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Buttermilk
It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au
Part 2 | masterlist
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Sweat beads on your brow as summer approaches its zenith. Its hottest point. You splurge on an iced caramel latte from the gas station on the way over and pick one up for John as well. Your arm is already stretched out when he opens the front door to let you in, offering it to him.
“I, uh…thought you might want one as well,” you explain, stuttering through your words. Crumbling under his amused expression.
You crave it though. His approval. That fond smile that seems reserved especially for you. The rare murmured good girl, his hand sometimes coming down to ruffle your hair. Even the memory of it makes your breath get lodged in your throat. You covet every crumb of it.
He takes the iced latte from you though before heading out for the day. Gift received. Even squeezes your shoulder in thanks before he shuts the door behind him, and you manage to keep from swooning until you hear his car pull out of the driveway.
You stand by the window with the baby pressed to your chest for so little that you can’t blame when a little fist tugs at your hair.
“Sorry, lovie,” you whisper into his fuzzy hair. Inhale deeply.
It’s not as though you’re starved for things to do. Were John’s son a few years older, you might have your work cut out for you, but there’s still plenty to do around the house even when you put the baby down for his morning nap. You save the vacuuming for when baby is awake and you’re not in danger of hearing him suddenly start crying through the baby monitor, but you dust and fold laundry and start the dishwasher and take the recycling out and by the time the baby is ready for lunch, you’ve already broken a light sweat.
Let no one tell you that babysitting is a walk in the park.
That being said, you do put the baby in his stroller for a walk in the park after lunch.
The park isn’t terribly far from John’s house, so coupled with the short path around the park and the walk back, you’ll get a good amount of steps in today without risking the baby being late for his mid afternoon nap.
It’s hard to not have an accidental, forbidden thought. Something like I wonder if anyone thinks I’m the baby’s mom when you push the stroller past a group of moms gathered together near the jungle gym, their kids sprinting on wobbly legs and climbing like dexterous little wildlings.
Those thoughts are dangerous though, best kept under wraps. Clandestine. Because once you start having those thoughts, they never really go away; they just get relegated to a part of your brain that switches on when the lights go off and you think about what it must have been like to carry a baby in your stomach for nine months.
You’re in danger, girl, a small voice in your head warns you. It’s hard to hear her clearly these days.
John comes earlier for once, around midday. It takes you by surprise. You jump when the door opens, the sound ricocheting off the walls like a gunshot and, in that same second, a wave of terror and rage washes over you, your heart already racing at the thought of someone breaking in while it’s just you and the baby home. You spring to your feet, hands already trembling by your sides, and then his familiar shape walks into the room, boots still on and all.
He pauses when he sees your shoulders slump with relief.
“Sorry,” you breathe, heart still racing. “I thought you were…” Your voice trails off towards the end because you don’t know how to say it without sounding silly.
His eyes cut to the baby in the bouncy chair behind you, your body still stood protectively in front of him, and then they soften.
“No, that’s on me—should’ve given you a ring before I left,” he says, a light apology in his voice. He throws his keys into the bowl in the foyer before stalking towards you. You stare up at him wide eyed, only blinking when he ruffles your hair before bypassing you to go pick up his son.
“How’s my baby?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the baby’s milksoft cheek, and your heart spins and cartwheels in your chest. All sorts of tricks that keep you rooted in place, unable to manage a single word. “You been good today?”
I’ve been good, you almost croak out, the words on the tip of your tongue. You swallow. Force them back down. You’re not his baby.
Another dinner invitation that you can’t turn down. Not because it wouldn’t be polite but because you couldn’t muster up the will to refuse even if you really did have plans. Lucky that you don’t.
When he puts the baby down to sleep for the night, you linger by the door, sure you’re a platitude or two away from being shown out for the night. John calls your name from the kitchen though, drawing you deeper into the house again.
“Go put something on,” he instructs when you idle under the archway of the door. With his back to you, you can’t make out the expression on his face, leaving you no choice but to gawp at the undulation of his shoulder muscles as he washes out the dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher. “You want something to drink?”
“Just, uh—” you rasp, clearing your throat. “Just juice, thanks.”
You can’t settle on anything to stream, nothing perking your interests; or maybe you’re just too antsy to make an informed decision on what to watch right now.
There are other things to worry about. Like John moving around in the other room or the way your denim shorts ride up when you sit down, bunching up at the crotch. You make an attempt to lift your hips and pull them back down as much as you can, but you panic and abort your plan when John comes into the room, embarrassed at the thought of being caught readjusting yourself.
The cushion under you bounces slightly when John drops himself down onto the couch beside you, the motion making your shorts ride up even more. You wince when the seam presses tight against your clit, on the edge of mildly painful and turning you on.
“Here, sweetheart,” he says, putting his own drink down on the coffee table before handing you your glass of juice.
“Thanks,” you bleat, taking a sip almost instantly to mask the look on your face, afraid he’ll read the panic there and press for details.
He sits closer than usual, as he always does these days. It’s not something you ever discuss. It just seems to happen. Slowly, like ice sheets drifting over water. One day you’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch and the next he’s all up in your space, thigh to thigh with you while the living room goes dark and the TV glows, the reflection throbbing against the glass. An ever-flickering light that illuminates the side of his head when you peer up at him.
Your tongue rests against the roof of her mouth, dry; sparing.
With his arm resting on the back of the couch over your shoulder, the scent of him is almost smothering. Each inhale makes your head spin. If you were to tilt your head to the side, you’d be level with his armpit, his scent strongest there, and that thought spins in your head like a merry-go-round until someone in the movie you’re supposed to be watching shouts, dragging your attention back to it.
“Christ, these are little, huh?” John grunts, suddenly reaching over to pinch the frayed ends of your shorts between his fingers. “This what the kids these days are wearing?”
You don’t know how to respond to that. Your body’s so hot that you feel like you’re swimming in heat, sweat prickling at your hairline and on the back of your neck.
“I-it’s hot out,” you stutter, your whole body suddenly hot. With how high your shorts have ridden up, his fingers are precariously close to your core, just a hairsbreadth from skimming up your inner thigh and brushing against your folds, now plump and sensitive.
You wonder if he can make out the outline of your pussy from underneath your shorts. They hug into the seam of your legs, pinching the skin of your inner thighs. You don’t dare glance down.
He hums, pulling his hand away and you stare wide eyed at the television in front of you when you shift and the glide between your legs tells you just how wet you are. Sitting on the couch next to your boss twice your age with a wet pussy.
You lean forward to try and readjust, masking the movement by reaching blindly for your glass on the coffee table at the same time. You must pick up the wrong glass by accident though because when you go to lift it to your lips, John’s hand stops you, fingers curling around yours and easily tugging the glass away from your mouth.
“No, baby, that’s mine; bit young for a drink, aren’t you?” John chuckles, eyes squinting with his smile.
“I’m legal,” you frown, pouting.
He acts like that sometimes; like he doesn’t keep track of how old you are.
“All right, but only a sip, got it?” he cautions, handing you the glass.
You don’t know why you take it. You would’ve been better admitting to your mistake and putting the glass back down.
He chuckles when you wince on your sip, nearly spitting it up. Horrifically embarrassing because it’s not like you’ve never had a drink before. You’ve gone out for drinks plenty of times with friends.
“Yeah,” he rasps, taking the glass from you and flicking his knuckle against your bottom lip as he does. “That’s what I thought.”
And it happens again and again. Head resting on his shoulder when you drift off on the couch before he shakes you awake. In the grocery store, he comes up behind you while you’re pushing the cart and puts his arms around to steer you down another aisle, his broad chest pressed against your back.
You hold your tongue. Bite off and chew the words. Because it’s nothing; it’s innocent. You’ve known from the get-go that John is more of a man of action than words. If anything, you’re the one reading too much into things. Little touch-starved girl from the bad side of town. It’s not his fault that you preen when he praises you; that you bunt your head against his hand when he ruffles your hair. Every drop of affection soaked up, savoured. Nourishing your heart and your soul. So lonely, so wanting. All those years holed up on your own, no warm body in the bed beside you.
Then John Price waltzed in and you expected to keep everything sealed up tight in your chest.
So it’s no wonder you gorge yourself on his touch and hope he doesn’t notice the way you lean into it. The rabbit-quick beat of your heart. Your want simmering under your skin, a disgusting, base thing desperate for gentleness.
You wonder if he sees the same thing when he looks at you.
In the heat of summer, John invites you to join him and the baby for a weekend at the beach in Portugal.
You only say yes because it’s the dog days of summer. At the beach, there’ll be umbrellas to sit under and beer coolers of cold drinks and the ice cold Atlantic to swim in. Plus, you’ve had little opportunity in your life to travel—you’ve barely stepped foot in France, never mind Portugal. But John has friends with a house in the Algarve that have graciously offered him the week, so who are you to say no to such a thoughtful gesture?
The only reason you consider not going is because you can’t shake the sense of foreboding.
“Baby, can you get my back?” John asks when you arrive at the beach the first day of your trip, and when you turn back to him, you have to act quick to catch the sunscreen lobbed your way.
That’s how you find yourself kneeling in the sand behind him, rubbing sunscreen on his back. His shoulders flex under your hands, and you can feel the muscle bunching and relaxing with each swipe across his shoulder blades. The worst is when you get to his low back. John’s groans are obscenely loud, guttural rumblings from the back of his throat. Ravenous.
“Okay, that’s everything,” you chirp, rubbing the excess off on your thighs.
“Good,” John says, twisting around. “Now it’s your turn.”
Your eyes widen.
“Wait—I don’t need to—”
You don’t know quite how he manages it, but a couple minutes later, you find yourself lying flat on your stomach on your beach towel, John squirting a good amount of sunscreen onto the middle of your back. All you get as a warning is the sunscreen bottle tossed to the ground beside your head before two big hands come down to your back to massage the cream into your skin.
There’s nowhere for you to go when John throws a leg over your hips to straddle you. He holds the majority of his weight off you, but despite his best efforts, you can still feel his dick against your ass, his loose swim shorts doing nothing to hold him in place.
He doesn’t ask for permission before undoing the knot holding your bikini top together, one quick pull and then the garment loosens around your chest. You can feel the fabric pool around you on the towel.
“John, you—” you start, almost coming up onto your elbows before realizing that your top won’t be coming with you if you do.
“Just gotta make sure I get your whole back, baby,” he reassures you, both hands gliding up your back to curve around your shoulders before dragging back down. “Won’t be more than a minute.”
It’s no use calling him out on the lie because there’s nothing you could do even if you did.
With hands as big as his, his fingers can’t help brushing the sides of your tits every time he smooths his hands down your back. You bite your lip nearly raw to keep from letting your moans escape, toes curling in the sand underneath you and thank god John is facing the other way or else your arousal would be clear as day to him. The gusset of your bathing suit is already damp and you haven’t even gotten in the water yet.
His hands drag up and down your back, lathering the lotion into your skin, massaging it into the muscle. Each pass of his hands making your eyes roll back, breath coming out in choppy pants. Tweaking when the palms of his hands easily encompass your shoulders, nearly tickling under your arms.
“There we go. All done,” he announces, jolting you out of the lustful fog you’d slipped into during his ministrations.
“All good?” you ask, a touch breathy.
“Mhm,” John rumbles, smoothing a hand up your back one last time, just to double check. Only clenching your fists until the skin around your knuckles tighten keeps you from shuddering at his touch. “Lemme just—”
Your throat constricts when you feel him reknot the back of your bikini top, fingers quick and deft for their size. He’s tied knots before. It’s better not to let that thought sink in too deep.
Turning over onto your back takes a near insuperable amount of energy, the rest wrung from your body by the hands now preoccupied with readjusting his shorts.
“You alright if I take him for a swim?” John asks, holding his squirming son against his bare chest.
You wave him off, a hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun.
You can’t help but stare at his ass as he walks away, practically mesmerised. In the water, he wades up to his knees with his son still cradled in one arm. The ocean water laps at his shins, dappled with light, low waves in the distance scintillating at their peaks. The ends of his swim shorts cling to his legs as the water leaches into the fabric.
Trying to keep your eyes off him is a losing game, not when John’s clad in nothing more than a pair of swim trunks, broad shoulders and chest on display, and now your hands tingle with the memory of how they felt rubbing suntan lotion over his skin. His trunks are pulled taut around thick thigh muscles, just barely loose enough to keep from being indecent.
The panic returns when you catch some nearby women ogling him, one angling her body towards him like she’s considering walking over, and that’s when your heart beats too fast and you stumble to your feet, leaving your beach towel and umbrella behind to go join John in the water.
“Hey sweetheart,” he greets when you’re only a few steps away, shivering when the cold water touches your feet. “Missed us, did ya?”
He reels you in with his free arm, pulling you into his side before transferring the baby into the cradle of your arms. Doesn’t even flinch when your breast is pressed against his side, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. As if your cheek wasn’t nearly flush with the pelt of dark hair growing in whorls on his chest, your eye level with a dark, flat nipple.
The girls hovering nearby scrunch their noses up when they notice you snuggled up against John’s chest. Assuming you must be someone special for him to be holding you that way; like a girlfriend or a wife—
You choke off the rest of that thought before it can take root.
The rest of the trip is no better. You’re a right mess made worse by the cloying heat and the forced proximity. At the restaurant, John pulls your chair out for you and then sits right beside you, arm resting on the back of your chair while he talks, cologne clotting the air around you. He’s popular wherever he goes—easy candour and winsome smile able to make anyone, from the servers to the other patrons, want to get to know him better.
All you can do is bask in the radiance; a sun in the middle of any room.
Back at the house, you sleep in the other room, only a single, flimsy wall between your room and John’s. The walls are so thin that you can hear every groan and snore and snuffle, head ringing with his sounds until you fall asleep and they permeate your dreams instead.
At seven in the morning, you wake to the sound of him rolling over in his bed, the mattress squeaking under his weight, and taking himself in hand. The sound of flesh against flesh; the groans bitten off too late for you not to catch them, sweat beading on your hairline as you stare at the white wall and picture John on the other side, big chest panting with his breaths as he tugs on his cock. You listen until his final groan, fingers petting at your clit until you have no choice but to turn your head into your pillow to muffle your sobs.
As best as you try to put it out of mind, you can’t meet his eyes at breakfast.
You flinch when the same hand that he must’ve used to jerk himself off comes down onto the top of your head when John goes to refill his mug of coffee. “Sleep well last night?” he asks, deep voice still coated in sleep.
“Not bad,” you whisper.
Shivering when he drops his hand to the junction between your shoulder and your neck and gives it a squeeze.
#ceil writing#cod x reader#price x reader#price/reader#john price x reader#john price x you#price x you#captain john price x reader
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Mama, I’m in love with a criminal
Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.
Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.
An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.
Session one.
His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.
He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.
Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.
He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.
Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.
Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”
The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”
“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”
The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.
Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”
After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”
“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.
“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.
Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”
The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.
“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.
“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.
“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”
The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.
“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.
Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”
The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.
The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.
“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”
The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.
-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ
His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.
“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”
Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.
“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”
Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.
He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.
The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.
“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.
“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.
The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”
“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.
“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”
The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.
Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”
Bang! Bang Bang!
The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.
“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.
“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#fanfic#drabble#jjk sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#dark romance
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The Secret Folders - Or Surprisingly Exposed
Seulgi x Male Reader
word count: 4.5K
The horror movie flickers across the TV screen, casting dancing shadows around Seulgi's dimly lit living room. But you can barely focus on the generic slasher plot - not with her sitting so close beside you on the plush leather couch. Your best friend since college is wearing those damn gray pajama pants again, the ones that hug every curve of her toned legs and petite frame. Combined with a loose t-shirt that's always sliding off her shoulder, giving a glimpse of her collarbone; she's the perfect mix of casual comfort and unintentional sexiness that's been driving you insane lately.
"Earth to spacehead," Seulgi says with a playful nudge, breaking you from your wandering thoughts. "That's like the third time you've jumped at absolutely nothing. The movie's not even at a scary part yet."
You force what you hope is a casual laugh, hyper-aware of how her half-bare shoulder brushes against yours as she shifts position. "Just tired I guess. Long week at work and all that."
"Bullshit," she counters with that knowing half-smirk that makes your stomach do backflips. "I've seen you marathon horror movies until 4 AM after double shifts. Try again."
"Maybe I'm just getting old and jumpy?" You attempt deflection, but your voice comes out higher than intended.
Seulgi pauses the movie mid-scene, turning to face you fully with her legs tucked under her.
"Or maybe," she draws out the words slowly, dark eyes studying your expression, "you're distracted by something else entirely. Or should I say... someone?"
Your heart rate kicks up several notches. There's a glint in her eye that you've never seen before - something predatory and knowing that makes your mouth go dry. "W-what do you mean?"
"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean." She leans in slightly, her vanilla-scented shampoo filling your senses. "See, the other day when I borrowed your laptop to print those work documents? I may have accidentally stumbled across some... interesting folders."
The blood drains from your face as realization hits.
Fuck.
Those folders.
The ones you thought were safely buried in obscure subfolders with innocuous names. The ones filled with carefully edited split-screen videos - porn on one side, usually featuring petite Asian women who looked just like...
"Your face is doing that thing it does when you're panicking," Seulgi observes, seeming almost amused by your deer-in-headlights expression. "The same look you had that time we almost got caught sneaking into the campus pool senior year."
You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. How do you explain away folders full of porn videos meticulously edited to display alongside photos of your best friend? There's no platonic explanation for that level of obsession.
"I have to say," she continues casually, as if discussing the movie rather than your darkest secret, "I'm a little hurt you didn't just tell me you were into me. We've been friends for what, six years now? That's a long time to keep those kinds of feelings bottled up."
"Seulgi, I..." you start, then falter. "I never wanted to mess up our friendship. You mean too much to me to risk that. And I know those folders were fucked up. I promise I'll delete everything! I'm so sorry you had to see that-"
"Shh." She presses a finger to your lips, effectively silencing your rambling apology. "I'm not finished. Because while I was surprised to find those folders... What surprised me more was realizing how much they turned me on. Damn, I didn't know you were such a dirty boy."
Your brain short-circuits at her words, unable to process this turn of events. Seulgi takes advantage of your stunned silence to slide closer.
"Want to know a secret?" she whispers, her lips barely an inch from your ear. "I've thought about you too. All those times we've had sleepovers, sharing my bed... I'd lie awake wondering what would happen if I just rolled over and kissed you. If I told you how wet I get when you look at me with those hungry eyes you think I don't notice."
"Fuck," you breathe out shakily as her hand lands on your thigh, fingertips tracing idle patterns through your sweatpants. "Is this really happening?"
"That depends," she replies with mock thoughtfulness. "Do you want it to be happening? Because I saw those videos you like... all those pretty Asian girls taking it up the ass... is that what you want to do to me? Do you want me to be your anal princess?"
Your grip on the couch cushion tightens as arousal shoots through you at her blunt words. Hearing your best friend talk like this is driving you crazy.
"Don't worry, I always wanted this too," she continues, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Do you remember all those times I'd sit in your lap for no reason? When I'd 'accidentally' grind against you while reaching for something?" She grins wickedly. "That wasn't accidental at all. I've been trying to make you hard for months."
Your mind races back through countless moments - Seulgi plopping down on your lap during movie nights, wiggling her tight little ass against your crotch as she "got comfortable." How many times had you gone home afterward to jerk off thinking about it?
"I could feel it, you know," she continues, her voice dropping lower. "How hard you'd get. Sometimes I could even feel your cock twitch through your pants. It made me so wet knowing I was affecting you like that."
You groan, unable to help yourself. "Fuck, Seulgi..."
"And you know what really got me hot?" She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear. "Sometimes I could feel your cock right against my asshole through our clothes. The way it would press right there... god, it made me want to just pull my pants down and let you fuck my ass right then and there."
Your cock is straining painfully against your jeans now as Seulgi's dirty confession pours out. She notices, of course, and presses her palm firmly against your bulge.
"You still haven't answered me: all those videos you picked - they were all anal scenes. Is that what you think about? Fucking my tight little ass?"
Unable to form words, you just nod. Seulgi's hand squeezes your cock through your pants.
"Tell me," she demands. "I want to hear you say it."
Swallowing hard, you force yourself to meet her intense gaze. "Yes. Fuck yes! I think about your ass all the time. Every time you wear that fucking leggings, I can see every curve, how tight and perfect it is. I go home and jerk off thinking about spreading those cheeks and burying my cock in your ass."
Seulgi moans, grinding the heel of her hand against your erection. "Keep going. Tell me more."
The dam breaks and all your pent-up fantasies come pouring out. "I think about eating your ass first, getting it nice and wet with my tongue. Spreading you open and licking you until you're begging for my cock. Then sliding into that tight hole inch by inch while you take it all..."
"Fuck," Seulgi gasps, her free hand sliding between her own legs. "I knew we had a connection. Want to know a secret?"
You nod eagerly, hypnotized by the way she's rubbing herself through her pants.
"I have toys," she confesses. "Butt plugs, dildos... I use them in my ass almost every night thinking about you. Imagining it's your thick cock stretching me open instead."
That confession breaks the last of your restraint. With a growl, you grab Seulgi and pull her into your lap, crushing your lips together in a desperate kiss. She responds immediately, grinding her ass against your cock as her tongue invades your mouth.
You grab her firm ass with both hands, squeezing and spreading the cheeks through the fabric. Seulgi moans into your mouth, rolling her hips to create more friction.
"Bedroom," she pants, breaking the kiss. "Now. I need you to fuck my ass properly."
You don't need to be told twice. Standing up with Seulgi still wrapped around you, you carry her down the hall to her room, hands firmly gripping her ass the whole way. She attacks your neck with kisses and little bites that make your cock throb.
Once in her bedroom, you toss her onto the bed and she bounces with a giggle that quickly turns into a moan as you grab the waistband of her pajama pants and yank them down. Her tiny black thong comes with them, leaving her lower half completely exposed.
"Fuck, look at that ass," you breathe, taking in the sight of her small, perfectly round cheeks. You've imagined this view countless times, but reality is so much better.
Seulgi wiggles her hips teasingly. "Touch it. I've been waiting so long to feel your hands on me."
You don't hesitate, climbing onto the bed and running your palms over the smooth globes of her ass. Her skin is incredibly soft and warm under your touch. You squeeze and knead the firm flesh, spreading her cheeks to reveal her tight pink hole.
"God, it's perfect," you groan, rubbing your thumb over her puckered entrance. Seulgi pushes back against the touch with a whimper.
"Taste it," she demands, arching her back to present herself better. "I want to feel your tongue in my ass."
You dive in eagerly, spreading her cheeks wide and dragging your tongue from her dripping pussy up to her asshole. Seulgi cries out, pushing back against your face as you circle her rim with firm licks.
"Yes, fuck, just like that," she moans. "Get my ass nice and wet for your cock."
You alternate between broad licks and pointed jabs with your tongue, gradually working the tip past her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi's whole body shudders as you tongue-fuck her ass, her pussy dripping onto the sheets below.
"More," she begs. "Stick your tongue in deeper. Get me ready for that thick cock."
You redouble your efforts, gripping her ass cheeks hard enough to leave marks as you bury your face between them. Your tongue pushes deeper into her hot channel while your nose presses against her taint. The musky, intimate taste of her ass only makes you harder.
Seulgi reaches back and spreads herself even wider for you. "That's it, eat my fucking ass. God, I've dreamed about this so many times."
You pull back just enough to spit directly onto her hole, watching it clench and relax. "Me too. Every time you sat on my lap, I wanted to bend you over and tongue-fuck this perfect little ass."
"I knew it," she pants. "I could feel how hard you'd get. Sometimes I'd grind back extra hard just to feel your cock pressing against my asshole through our clothes."
You press your thumb against her spit-slicked entrance, watching it slowly sink in to the first knuckle. Seulgi moans and pushes back, taking it deeper.
"Look how eager your ass is," you tease, working your thumb in and out. "Such a greedy little hole."
"Only for you," she gasps. "I've been saving my ass for your cock. Now stop teasing and fuck me already."
But you're not done exploring yet. You've fantasized about this too long to rush it. Pulling your thumb out, you replace it with two fingers, slowly working them into her tight channel.
"Fuck yes," Seulgi hisses. "Stretch me open. Get me ready for that big dick."
You pump your fingers steadily in and out of her ass, watching in fascination as her hole grips and releases them. Your other hand slides around to find her clit, rubbing the swollen nub in time with your thrusts.
"Oh god," she moans, rocking between your fingers. "That feels so fucking good. Add another finger, please. I want to be nice and loose for you."
You comply, working a third digit into her stretched hole. Seulgi's back arches beautifully as she takes it, a long moan escaping her lips.
"Such a good girl, taking it so well," you praise, scissoring your fingers to open her up more. "I can't wait to feel this tight ass wrapped around my cock."
"Please," she whimpers. "I need it. Need your cock in my ass so bad."
You continue finger-fucking her ass while your other hand works her clit, building her up slowly. Seulgi's moans get higher and more desperate as she approaches orgasm.
"That's it," you encourage. "Cum for me. Cum with my fingers in your ass."
Seulgi's whole body tenses as she crashes over the edge, her ass clenching rhythmically around your fingers as she cums. You work her through it, only stopping when she collapses bonelessly onto the bed.
"Holy fuck," she pants, looking back at you with glazed eyes. "That was so good."
You slowly withdraw your fingers, admiring how her hole stays slightly open. "Just wait until you feel my cock in there."
"Yes please," she purrs, rolling onto her back. "But first, get naked. I want to see what I've been missing."
You quickly strip off your clothes, your cock springing free rock hard and leaking. Seulgi's eyes go wide as she takes in your size.
"Fuck, you're bigger than my toys," she says appreciatively. "No wonder I could feel you so well through your pants."
She sits up and pulls her t-shirt off, revealing small, perky breasts with hard nipples. Your mouth waters at the sight of her toned body, tight abs leading down to her bare pussy.
"Come here," she beckons, reaching for your cock. "Let me get you nice and wet first."
You move closer and Seulgi wraps her small hand around your shaft, stroking slowly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.
"I've wanted to touch your cock for so long," she admits, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside. "Every time I felt it getting hard under me, I wanted to pull it out and suck it."
Her tongue swirls around the head before she takes you into her mouth. You groan as she sucks you deeper, her hand working what doesn't fit.
"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing," you pant, threading your fingers through her hair.
Seulgi hums around your cock, the vibrations making your legs shake. She works you expertly, alternating between deep throat attempts and focusing on the sensitive head.
After a few minutes of this heavenly torture, you have to stop her. "Wait, I don't want to cum yet. I want to save it for your ass."
She releases you after a long suck on the tip. "Mmm, yes please. I want you to cum deep in my ass."
Seulgi rolls over onto her hands and knees, presenting her ass to you once again. "I need your cock in my ass so bad, babe. The lube is on the nightstand."
You grab the bottle and drizzle it generously over her hole and your cock. Using your fingers, you work it into her ass, making sure she's well-prepared.
"Ready?" you ask, lining yourself up with her entrance.
"God yes," she moans. "Fill my ass with that big cock."
You press forward slowly, watching the head of your cock stretch her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi whimpers as you breach her, her hands fisting in the sheets.
"You okay?" you check, pausing to let her adjust.
"Yes, don't stop," she pants. "Keep going. I want all of it."
You continue pushing forward inch by inch, groaning at the incredible tightness of her ass. Seulgi rocks back slightly, helping to work you deeper.
"Fuck, you're so big," she gasps. "My ass feels so full."
Finally, you bottom out, your hips pressed flush against her ass cheeks. You both moan at the sensation of being completely joined.
"How does it feel?" you ask, running your hands over her back.
"Amazing," she breathes. "Better than I ever imagined. Start moving, please. I need you to fuck my ass."
You pull back slowly until just the head remains inside, then push back in at the same pace. Seulgi's ass grips you like a vice, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
"God, your ass is perfect," you groan, establishing a steady rhythm. "So fucking tight around my cock."
"Yes, fuck my ass," she moans. "Use my tight little hole. I've been saving it just for you."
You gradually increase your pace, watching in fascination as her ass swallows your cock over and over. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her stretched hole is hypnotic.
Seulgi reaches between her legs to play with her clit as you fuck her ass. "Harder," she demands. "I can take it. I want you to really fuck me."
You grip her hips tighter and start pounding into her ass with more force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with both of your moans and gasps.
"Yes, just like that," she cries. "Fuck my ass hard. Make me your anal whore."
Her dirty talk spurs you on and you slam into her even harder, watching her small body jolt with each thrust. Your balls slap against her pussy, adding to the obscene symphony of sounds.
"You like that?" you growl, spanking her ass cheek. "Like having your tight little ass stretched around my cock?"
"God yes," she pants. "I love it. Love feeling you so deep in my ass. Don't stop, please don't stop!"
You can feel her getting close again, her ass clenching rhythmically around your cock as she works her clit faster. The extra tightness is bringing you closer to the edge too.
"Gonna cum soon," you warn, your thrusts becoming more erratic.
"Inside," she begs. "Cum in my ass! Fill me up with your hot load."
The combination of her words and her tight ass proves too much. With a final deep thrust, you explode inside her, painting her walls with rope after rope of cum. The feeling of being filled triggers Seulgi's own orgasm and she screams your name as she cums hard around your cock.
You continue pumping slowly, working both of you through your climaxes until you're completely spent. It's when you collapse forward, careful not to crush her smaller frame. Both of you pant heavily as you come down from your respective highs.
"Stay inside me," she murmurs when you start to pull out. "I want to feel your cum in my ass as long as possible."
You comply, remaining buried in her stretched hole as it continues to pulse around your softening cock.
"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, bringing your face closer to kiss her neck. Her tight hole squeezes you and you can feel your cum starting to leak out around your shaft.
"I can't believe we finally did this," Seulgi says softly, turning her head to look at you with those beautiful eyes that always drive you crazy. "I've wanted you for so long..."
"Really?" you ask, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea. I mean, I've always been attracted to you too but I figured I wasn't your type."
She lets out a little laugh. "Are you kidding? You're exactly my type. I've been fantasizing about you fucking me like this for years." She rolls her hips slightly, making you both moan as your semi-hard cock shifts inside her cum-filled ass.
"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you ask, running your hands up and down her smooth back.
"Same reason as you probably - didn't want to risk ruining our friendship," she admits. "Plus I wasn't sure if you saw me that way. I mean, you were always so shy, never showing any obvious interest, despite your glances at me... It was hard to decipher what you really wanted."
"Well, now you know what I really want. Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about that perfect little ass of yours?" You give her ass cheeks a squeeze for emphasis. "Or those cute little tits? Or those fucking gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?"
Seulgi moans softly at your words, her ass clenching around you again. "Mmm tell me more... What else did you think about doing to me?"
You can feel your dick starting to harden again inside her as you continue: "Fuck, everything. Bending you over every surface in my apartment. Watching you bounce on my cock. Filling all your tight little holes with cum. The way you'd look with my dick stretching out that pretty mouth..."
"God yes," she whimpers, beginning to slowly grind against you. Your cock is definitely getting hard again now, making her gasp as it swells inside her ass. "I used to imagine you just grabbing me one day and taking what you wanted. Pushing me up against a wall and shoving your big cock inside me..."
"Yeah? You wanted me to just use you like a little fucktoy?"
"Yes! Fuck yes," she confesses. "I wanted you to treat me like your personal cumslut. Make me take that fat cock however you wanted..."
Your dick is fully hard again now, throbbing inside her cum-filled ass. You can feel your previous load still leaking out around your shaft as she continues grinding against you.
"Well now we can make up for lost time," you tell Seulgi as you pull out of her slowly, laying on your back on the bed as you pull her on top of you. "I'm going to fuck this tight little ass whenever I want now. Fill you up with load after load of cum..."
"Promise?" she asks breathlessly, grabbing your cock in her hand as she slowly reinserts it into her ass, sitting on top of you. The new angle lets you fully appreciate her perfect petite body - those perky tits, flat stomach, and that incredible ass currently impaled on your shaft.
"Fuck yes I promise. But now I want to see your perfect little body riding my cock..." You grab her hips and thrust up into her, making her cry out in pleasure.
"Oh god! Yes! Let me ride you," Seulgi purrs. She starts rolling her hips experimentally, getting used to the feeling of controlling the penetration. Your previous load of cum makes obscene wet sounds as she moves, some of it leaking out around your cock and dripping onto your balls. The sight of your thick shaft disappearing into her tight little hole is fucking mesmerizing.
"Fuck, you look so hot like this," you groan, gripping her slim hips. Her ass clenches around you at the compliment, making you both moan.
"Yeah? You like watching me bounce on your big cock?" she asks breathlessly, starting to lift herself up and down properly now. The way she moves is absolutely perfect - she clearly knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.
"God yes, love watching this tight little ass take my cock," you tell her, giving her ass cheeks a squeeze. "Such a perfect little slut, riding me like you were made for it..."
Seulgi throws her head back and really starts going for it, bouncing enthusiastically on your dick. Her small tits bounce with the movement and you reach up to pinch her hard nipples, making her cry out in pleasure. The wet sounds of your cum squelching around your shaft get even louder as she picks up speed.
"Fuck! Your cock feels so good in my ass," she pants, grinding down hard against you. "Love feeling it stretch me open... Love having your cum inside me..."
You thrust up to meet her movements, driving your cock deeper into her tight hole. The way she's riding you is absolutely incredible - her ass is still gripping your shaft like a vice even after taking your first load. Every time she drops down, taking you balls deep, she lets out these perfect little whimpers that drive you crazy.
"That's it baby, ride that cock," you encourage her, running your hands up her sides to cup her tits. "Show me how badly you've wanted this..."
"Wanted it so bad," she moans, bouncing faster. "Dreamed about riding your big cock like this... Feeling you stretch my tight little ass..."
Her dirty talk spurs you on and you start thrusting up harder, making her cry out with each deep stroke. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her perfect ass over and over, still slick with your previous load, is absolutely incredible. Some of your cum is leaking out around your cock, running down onto your balls in thick white streams.
"Such a perfect little anal slut," you growl, squeezing her tits roughly. "Taking my cock so well, begging for more... Were you always this much of a cumslut or is it just for me?"
"Just for you," she gasps, grinding down hard. "Never wanted anyone else like this... Never begged for anyone else's cum..."
Her words make your cock throb inside her and you start really pounding up into her tight hole. The way she's moving her hips is absolutely perfect, grinding down to take you as deep as possible before lifting up until just the tip remains inside her. Her ass clenches around you each time she rises up, like she doesn't want to let your cock go.
"Fuck yes, ride that dick," you encourage her, gripping her hips tightly. "Show me how badly you want another load in this tight little ass..."
"Want it so bad," she moans, bouncing frantically now. "Want you to fill me up again... Want even more of your hot cum deep inside me..."
The sight of her riding you like this is absolutely incredible. Her perfect little body bouncing on your cock, her tight ass gripping and milking your shaft, the way your previous load is leaking out around your cock - it's all driving you crazy with lust.
"Gonna fill this tight hole up again," you grunt, squeezing her ass roughly. "Paint your insides white with another huge load..."
"Yes! Please cum in my ass again," she begs, grinding down hard. "Want to feel you pump me full... Want your hot cum deep inside me..."
You can feel your orgasm building as she continues riding you frantically, her tight hole milking your cock perfectly.
"Fuck, I'm close," you warn her, gripping her hips tightly. "Gonna fill this perfect little ass up again..."
"Do it! Cum inside me," she moans, grinding down hard. "Fill me up, mark me as yours..."
A few more bounces and you're there, groaning loudly as you start pumping another huge load deep in her ass. Seulgi cries out and clenches around you, her own orgasm hitting as she feels your hot cum flooding her insides.
"Oh god, yes! I can feel it," she gasps, grinding against you as you continue spurting inside her. "So much cum... Filling me up so good..."
You thrust up a few more times, making sure to deposit every drop of cum as deep as possible in her tight hole. When you're finally spent, she collapses forward onto your chest, her sweat-slick skin sliding against yours, both of you breathing heavily as your softening cock remains buried in her thoroughly fucked and cum-filled ass.
"That was fucking incredible," you pant, running your hands up and down her back.
"Mmm it really was," she agrees, nuzzling against your neck. "Best night ever. We definitely need to do this again. Like, a lot."
"Oh we will," you assure her with a grin. "I meant what I said - I'm going to use this perfect little ass whenever I want now. You’re mine. Officially. No take-backs.”
Her grin softens into something more genuine, and she cups your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “So we’re doing this? Like, actually doing this?”
“Hell yes, we are,” you reply without hesitation. “We’ve wasted enough time pretending we didn’t want this. And now that I know how good we are together, you really think I’m letting you go?”
She pulls you into a kiss, slow and deep. “Good. Because I don’t want to go anywhere. I'm stuck with you now.”
“Stuck with me?” you repeat, smirking. “Babe, I'm the one who'll have to deal with your insane ass from now on. If anyone’s ‘stuck,’ it’s me.”
“Oh, please,” she fires back, rolling her eyes. “You love my insane ass.”
“Damn right, I do,” you say, sliding a hand down to squeeze it for emphasis. “And I plan on showing you just how much, every chance I get.”
She laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck. “God, we’re so screwed up. Who the hell starts a relationship like this?”
You shrug, leaning down to kiss her again. “Us, apparently. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The two of you stay tangled up in each other, talking and teasing until the conversation drifts back to the years of near-misses and unspoken feelings. It’s all out in the open now, and for the first time, it feels like everything’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.
—
You slowly open your eyes, still groggy from last night's intense activities. The morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Seulgi's bedroom, casting a warm glow across the messy sheets. Your naked body feels pleasantly sore as memories from yesterday flood back - how your petite best friend discovered those edited porn videos you made of her, and instead of getting pissed off, she got turned on. Who would've thought sweet little Seulgi was such a dirty girl?
The bed beside you is empty but still warm. You stretch lazily, enjoying the lingering scent of sex in the air mixed with her perfume. Your morning wood is already throbbing as you replay highlights from last night - Seulgi's tight little ass bouncing on your cock, her moans when you ate her holes, the way she begged for more...
The bedroom door opens and there she is - your best friend in all her sweaty glory. She's wearing a sports bra that shows off her perky tits and skin-tight leggings that hug every curve. Her skin glistens with perspiration, loose strands of hair sticking to her flushed face. Your cock instantly gets even harder.
"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Seulgi chirps, grabbing a towel to wipe her face. "Hope you don't mind, I always do my morning workout. Gotta keep this body tight, you know?" She strikes a playful pose.
"Fuck, you look incredible all sweaty like that," you growl, drinking in her athletic form. The way those leggings cling to her ass should be illegal. "Your body is fucking perfect."
She bites her lip, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Mmm, someone slept well I see," she says, eyeing your obvious erection beneath the sheets. "Still naked under there?"
"Want to come find out for yourself?"
"Actually..." Seulgi's eyes gleam with mischief. "I could use some extra cardio. Work up even more of a sweat..."
You throw back the sheets, exposing your rock-hard cock. "Get that sexy ass over here then."
Seulgi saunters toward the bed, her hips swaying. The musky scent of her post-workout sweat hits your nostrils and makes your mouth water. When she gets close enough, you grab her wrist and pull her down on top of you.
"Mmm, someone's eager," she giggles, grinding against your erection through her leggings.
You bury your face in her neck, inhaling deeply. The salty tang of her sweat mixed with her natural scent is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to taste her glistening skin, trailing up to her ear.
"Fuck, you taste so good all sweaty," you growl. "I want to lick every inch of you."
Seulgi moans as you suck and nibble at her neck, leaving marks. Your hands roam over her toned body, squeezing her ass through those sinfully tight leggings. You've fantasized about her in workout clothes so many times, and now you finally get to live it out.
Your mouths crash together in a heated kiss. She tastes like mint - must have brushed her teeth before working out. Your tongues battle for dominance as you grind against each other. One hand slides up under her sports bra to pinch a hard nipple.
"These fucking leggings," you groan between kisses. "Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about ripping them open and fucking you in them?"
"Show me," she purrs. "Make those dirty fantasies real."
You don't need to be told twice. Gripping the fabric between her legs, you tear a hole right over her pussy and ass. The sound of ripping material fills the room as Seulgi gasps.
"Fuck yes, ruin them," she moans. "I love how fucking nasty you are."
You run your fingers over her exposed holes. Her pussy is already dripping wet, her asshole still slightly gaped from last night's pounding.
"I gotta admit, I'm gonna miss these leggings," Seulgi whines, but her pussy visibly clenches at the dominant display.
"I'll buy you new ones," you reply, tearing the hole wider until it extends from her lower back to her upper thighs. The torn edges frame her holes perfectly. "Now get to work on my cock while I eat this pretty pussy.”
She straddles your face in reverse, giving you a perfect view of her holes as she wraps her lips around your throbbing shaft. You groan at the wet heat enveloping your cock, the vibrations making her moan around you.
You spread her ass cheeks wide, admiring how her holes glisten with arousal. Her pussy is swollen and pink, cream already gathering at her entrance. Her tight asshole clenches invitingly.
"Such a pretty view," you murmur before diving in, dragging your tongue from her clit all the way up to her asshole. She shudders and moans around your cock, taking you deeper.
You alternate between broad licks through her folds and targeted flicks against her clit, gathering her tangy juices on your tongue. Her thighs start trembling as you suck her sensitive nub, her own oral efforts becoming sloppier as pleasure overtakes her.
"Mmmph!" she gags slightly as you thrust up into her throat, your hands gripping her ass to hold her in place. Tears gather in her eyes but she doesn't pull away, relaxing her throat to take you deeper.
You release her clit with a wet pop. "Good girl, taking my cock so deep while I eat this pussy." You punctuate your words by spearing your tongue into her dripping hole, tasting her deepest parts.
Her hips start grinding against your face as you tongue-fuck her, smearing her juices all over your chin. The torn leggings frame the erotic sight perfectly, the ripped edges emphasizing how thoroughly you're debauching her.
You pull back slightly to admire your work - her pussy is even more swollen now, her inner lips puffy and glistening. Her clit stands out prominently, begging for more attention. Above, her asshole clenches rhythmically, practically begging to be played with.
You drag your tongue up to circle her puckered entrance. Seulgi's whole body jerks at the contact, a muffled moan vibrating around your cock.
"Your ass is perfect," you murmur against her skin before diving back in, circling her rim with firm pressure. Her resistance melts away as you continue the rimming, replaced by breathy moans and hip rolls against your face.
You alternate between her holes - tongue-fucking her pussy until she's dripping, then moving up to tease her ass until it's quivering. Her own oral efforts match your intensity, her throat muscles massaging your cock as she deep throats you.
"Such a dirty girl," you growl between licks. "Getting your ass eaten while deepthroating cock... I bet you were planning this when you invited me to watch a fucking horror movie yesterday.”
She pulls off your cock with a gasp. "And it worked so we- Oh fuck, don't stop... feels so good..." She immediately swallows you back down, sucking with renewed vigor.
You focus your attention on her asshole, pointing your tongue to breach the tight ring of muscle. She practically squeals around your cock as you tongue-fuck her ass, her thighs shaking uncontrollably.
Her pussy is dripping steadily now, cream coating your chin and neck. You reach up to gather some on your fingers, using it to lubricate her asshole as you continue eating it. One finger slides in easily alongside your tongue, making her whole body jerk.
"Gonna make you cum just from eating your ass," you promise, working a second finger into her tight hole while your tongue continues circling the rim. Your other hand moves to her clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub.
She's barely sucking your cock anymore, just holding it in her mouth as she pants and moans. Her hips rock desperately between your fingers and tongue, chasing her release.
"That's it baby, ride my face," you encourage, curling your fingers inside her ass while flicking her clit rapidly. "Want to feel you cum all over my chin..."
Her inner muscles start fluttering around your fingers as her orgasm approaches. You double down on your efforts, tongue and fingers working in harmony to push her over the edge.
She pulls off your cock with a cry as she starts cumming, her whole body convulsing. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuck!" Her pussy gushes, coating your chin and neck with cream as her ass clenches rhythmically around your fingers.
You work her through it until she's whimpering from oversensitivity, then slowly withdraw your fingers. Her holes clench around empty air, still quivering from the intense orgasm.
"I-I n-need your cock in my pussy," she pants. "You didn't even fuck it last night because you were so focused on my ass. Time to make up for that."
You give her holes one last long lick before letting her climb off your face. Seulgi turns around and straddles your hips, rubbing her dripping pussy along your shaft.
"Watch how easily your big cock stretches my little hole," she purrs, positioning you at her entrance.
You groan as she sinks down, taking you balls deep in one smooth motion. Her pussy grips you like a vice, so hot and wet around your throbbing member.
"Fuck, you're so tight," you growl, gripping her hips. "Ride that cock, baby. Show me how bad you want it."
Seulgi starts bouncing on your shaft, her perky tits bouncing in the sports bra. Sweat drips down her toned stomach as she works herself on your cock. You reach up to pinch her nipples through the fabric, making her clench around you.
"Your pussy feels amazing," you moan. "So fucking wet for me."
She speeds up her movements, slamming down to take you as deep as possible. Her pussy makes obscene squelching sounds as your cock pistons in and out of her soaking hole.
You thrust up to meet her bounces, making her cry out each time you bottom out. Her pussy cream coats your shaft and balls, making everything deliciously slick. You can feel her inner walls fluttering as she gets close to cumming again.
"Play with your clit," you command. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."
Seulgi reaches down to rub her swollen nub while continuing to ride you. Her movements become more erratic as pleasure builds. You grab her ass cheeks, spreading them wide and teasing her rim with your thumb.
"Fuck! I'm gonna cum on your cock!" she screams. Her pussy clamps down on your shaft as her orgasm hits. You keep thrusting through her climax, prolonging the waves of pleasure.
When her spasms subside, you pull out of her drenched hole. Your cock is coated in her cream, making it perfect for what comes next.
"Get on your hands and knees," you growl. "Time to stuff that tight little ass again."
Seulgi quickly assumes the position, arching her back to present her ass, the torn leggings frame her still-twitching holes perfectly. Her pussy is still pulsing from her orgasm, cream dripping down her thighs. Her asshole winks invitingly, already loosened from your fingers and last night's fucking.
You kneel behind her and rub your slick cock between her cheeks, teasing both holes. "You want my cock in your ass, don't you? Such a dirty girl, getting off on having both holes used."
"Please," she moans, pushing back against you. "Fuck my ass! I need it so bad!"
You press your cockhead against her tight rim, watching it slowly stretch around you. Despite being fucked there just hours ago, she's still deliciously tight. You grab her hips and steadily push forward until you're balls deep in her ass.
"Fuck yes," Seulgi pants. "Your cock feels so good stretching my ass!"
You start with slow, deep strokes, watching your shaft disappear into her hungry hole. Her ass grips you perfectly, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. You reach around to rub her clit, making her moan louder.
"Such a good little anal slut," you growl, speeding up your thrusts. "Taking my cock so deep in your ass while I play with your pussy."
Seulgi pushes back to meet each thrust, clearly loving the double stimulation. Her pussy drips steadily as you pound her ass, adding to the lewd sounds filling the room. You give her ass a hard smack, watching it jiggle.
"Harder!" she begs. "Wreck my fucking ass!"
You grab her hips tight and really start hammering into her. Your balls slap against her pussy with each thrust as you drill her asshole. Sweat drips down your chest, mixing with hers where your bodies meet.
The sight of your cock stretching her tight rim combined with her wanton moans has you getting close. You increase the pressure on her clit, wanting her to cum again before you finish.
"Gonna cum again," Seulgi gasps. "Keep fucking my ass just like that!"
Her whole body shakes as another orgasm rips through her. You feel her asshole spasm around your cock as she screams in pleasure.
“Fuck, I'm almost there,” you moan. “This time I'm gonna cover your little body with my cum.”
You pump into her stretched asshole a few more times, savoring the tight grip before withdrawing with a wet pop. Her gaping hole clenches around empty air as she quickly flips onto her back, her abs glistening with fresh workout sweat. The torn leggings frame her lower half perfectly, her pussy still dripping from her previous orgasms.
"Fuck, look at you," you growl, furiously stroking your cock as you kneel between her spread legs. Your shaft is slick with her ass juices, making obscene squelching sounds as you jerk it. "So fucking hot all sweaty and messy for me..."
Seulgi runs her hands over her damp skin, pinching her hard nipples through her sports bra. "Come on baby, mark me up. Want to feel your hot load all over my abs..."
Your cock throbs harder at her words. She looks like a fucking goddess lying there, skin golden and gleaming with perspiration, hair messy from getting railed, lips swollen from sucking your cock. The contrast of her still being partially clothed in her workout gear while being completely debauched is driving you wild.
"Play with yourself," you command, stroking faster. "Want to watch you rub that clit while I cover you in cum..."
She immediately slides a hand between her legs, fingers circling her swollen clit. Her other hand pushes her sports bra up to fully expose her perky tits, rolling a nipple between her fingers.
"Please," she whimpers, hips bucking as she pleasures herself. "Need your cum so bad... want you to paint me with it..."
You can feel your orgasm building, pressure mounting in your balls. Your cock is angry red and leaking precum steadily. Seulgi notices and licks her lips.
"Are you gonna cum for me baby?" she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Want to feel it hot and thick all over my sweaty body... want you to mark your territory..."
"Fuck... gonna cum so hard for you..." you grunt, your hand a blur on your shaft. The wet sounds of her fingering herself mixed with your jerking is obscene.
"Do it," she demands, her fingers moving faster on her clit. "Fucking cover me... want to feel it splashing on my skin..."
Your orgasm hits like a freight train. The first rope of cum shoots out with incredible force, landing in a thick stripe from her collarbone down between her tits. The second and third spurts paint her ribs and abs, hot white streaks stark against her shiny skin.
"Yes! More!" she cries out, her own orgasm hitting as she watches you mark her. "Cover me!"
You continue cumming, decorating her sweaty stomach with rope after rope of thick seed. Some lands on the torn edges of her leggings, soaking into the fabric. The final few spurts dribble onto her lower abs, mixing with the sweat pooled in the grooves of her muscles.
When you're finally spent, you sit back to admire your work. Seulgi looks absolutely debauched - covered in sweat, cum, and pussy juice, workout clothes torn and disheveled, hair a mess. Your cum is already starting to run down the sides of her torso in rivulets, mixing with her sweat.
She runs her fingers through the mess on her stomach, spreading it around like lotion. The sight of her rubbing your seed into her sweaty skin makes your spent cock twitch weakly.
"Mmm, so much cum," she purrs, gathering some on her fingers and bringing them to her mouth. She maintains eye contact as she sucks them clean, moaning at the taste. "Love how it mixes with my sweat... makes me feel so dirty..."
She continues playing with the cum on her body, alternating between spreading it around and tasting it off her fingers. Some has dripped down to her pussy, mixing with her own juices.
"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, watching her enjoy your mess. She gathers more cum on her fingers and offers them to you. You eagerly suck them clean, tasting the salty mixture of your cum and her sweat.
"Love marking you up like this," you say as she continues rubbing the cooling cum into her skin. "Looking all sweaty and used, covered in my load..."
"Mmm, me too," she sighs contentedly. "Want you to do this every time I come back from working out... mark your territory all over my sweaty body..."
The combination of the visual, her dirty talk, and the various fluids coating her skin makes your cock start to harden again despite having just cum. Seulgi notices and laughs.
"Already getting hard again? Such a horny boy..." she teases, running a cum-covered finger down your shaft. "Save that energy for the next workout... want you nice and pent up so you can cover me in an even bigger load..."
You spend the next few minutes trading lazy kisses and caresses, enjoying the afterglow. Seulgi's skin is still flushed and glowing with sweat. Her sports bra is stained with your cum, marking her as yours.
"I should probably actually shower now," she says eventually. "Want to join me? I could use help getting clean... or maybe getting dirty again."
"Lead the way," you smirk, admiring her ass as she heads to the bathroom.
—
After the shower, you throw on some clothes and head to the kitchen. While Seulgi makes coffee, you raid her fridge for breakfast ingredients. The domestic scene feels surprisingly natural after the intensity of your sexual encounters.
"I still can't believe this all started because you caught me making porn edits of you," you say, cracking eggs into a pan.
She laughs. "I mean, I was shocked at first. But then I watched them and... fuck, they were hot. Made me realize how much I wanted you."
"Could have saved us both a lot of sexual frustration if we'd admitted it sooner."
"True. But making up for lost time has been pretty fun," she winks. "Plus now I have a personal trainer who really knows how to motivate me."
Breakfast becomes less about eating and more about stolen touches. Her fingers graze yours when you pass her a plate, and your knees bump under the table like it’s on purpose. Each bite of food comes with a side of heated glances that linger too long. The energy between you is still electric, even after having sex twice just this morning, alive with the kind of hunger that never truly fades.
Seulgi reaches across the table, her thumb brushing a crumb from your lip. Her touch lingers, her gaze heavy with desire. "We’re really bad at pretending this isn’t gonna happen again in about five minutes, huh?"
You grin, pushing your plate aside.
"Who’s pretending?”
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would you be able to do hotch’s adult daughter meeting the team?
—Hotch introduces his daughter to the team. 1.3k
“Aaron?”
He’s grateful you didn’t call him Mr. Hotchner, but dad might not hurt. “Everything okay, honey?” he asks the phone.
“Sure, um. This might be presumptuous and, like, embarrassing for me, but my last class got cancelled and I was wondering if I can come to your office today?”
He feels his brows rise of their own accord. He checks his watch. You’ve picked a good day to want to come. “Sure, it’s quiet here.”
“You don’t want me to explain why?”
“Presumptuous and embarrassing for me, I thought it might be to see your dear old dad.”
You laugh funny on the other side, like Jack when he’s surprised. “Kind of. I do want to see you, but I was wondering what it’s like. In the FBI, I mean.”
“You’re interested?”
“In working there?” you ask.
“It’s fine if you were, you don’t have to worry.”
“It looks too intense for me, but… yeah, I guess I want to know what you do all day. I don’t know anything about that part of your life, and it’s such a big part of it.”
He’s trying hard to say Yes to you at every opportunity, and this yes is easy. He sends a car to get you because he can, preparing himself for a lot of fawning and surprise. The BAU team, namely, Spencer, Derek, JJ, Emily, Dave, and Penelope, know who you are, but the office itself has little knowledge of you. There was chatter the day you turned up here unannounced. You haven’t been to the office since.
He exits his office and finds Spencer, Emily, and Derek in the bullpen doing their paperwork, among other things. Derek’s peeling an orange. Spencer has his nose in a book despite a hand on the computer mouse.
“Are you ready?” he asks them.
“For what, the round table?” Emily asks.
“Y/N’s coming into the office.”
Three backs straighten in unison. “The kid?” Derek asks with a grin. He’s the only one who’s actually met you, and it drives the others mad with jealousy.
“My kid, yes,” he says. He can’t help smiling. “She wants to see what we do. Please don’t show her anything with blood or gore, though. Please.”
“Scout’s honour,” Emily says, standing from her desk to brush herself down. “Out of everything that’s happened when I started here, is it strange that this is the craziest?”
“It’s up there,” Spencer says.
“It’s certainly the nicest surprise I’ve had,” Aaron says, not quite missing the look Emily and Derek share even as he spots you at the office doors with your visitor’s pass clipped to the belt of your skirt.
He walks to meet you, lest the sheer sea of faces intimidate you. “Everything okay?” he asks.
You pull your jacket tighter around you, but it’s not a warm thing —if anything, it seems to be a stiff cardigan, grey and white plaid with ornate buttons. “It’s freezing out there.”
“You’ll feel much warmer in a minute. The heat has been on high all day, JJ’s orders.” He slips his hand behind your back and shepherds you to the bullpen. “Honey, these are some of the members of my team. Supervisory special agents Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid.”
“Emily,” Emily says, thrusting her hand forward to shake.
“Spencer,” Spencer adds, managing to escape a handshake as Derek steps in.
“Derek Morgan,” he introduces himself, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I can see now why you were reluctant to tell me what you were here for.”
Your smile goes sideways, like you’re startled, but pleased nonetheless, “I– honestly, I thought you’d make me leave if you heard what I had to say. It’s still not believable.”
“You sound like him,” Spencer says. “Not masculine, but–”
“Mellifluous,” you and Aaron say at the same time.
“Exactly.”
“Freaky,” Emily says, though her smile is brilliant.
When Aaron sat the team down to tell them, it wasn’t because he necessarily wanted to. He loves you as any man loves their child even if he still has mountains to learn about you, and the urge to brag about you doesn’t go away, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer so many questions about you at the time. As far as anybody in Aaron’s life knows, he and Haley haven’t ever split, it was a private parting, and so the first thing he sensed from everyone was a shift in image. “I didn’t cheat on Haley,” he’d said quickly, with a suffering sigh, “we were broken up at the time.”
“Like, on a break?” Emily had asked, cringing.
No, not really. Aaron assumed he and Haley were broken up permanently when he slept with your mother, but that brief relationship cemented for him that he loved his now-wife. Now that the team know he’s not an adulterer, the only thing he has while presenting you to them is pride.
“Y/N’s class was cancelled today, so I’m going to show her around the office and give her some insight into what we do here,” he says, catching your attention with a grin. “It’s not as though you need today's lecture, hm? She’s nearly the top of her class.”
You shake your head at him, beaming but mortified, “Don’t.”
“If she didn’t work so hard–”
“He’s trying to get me to quit my job,” you tell the others. “He’s overbearing.”
“We know,” Emily says.
“I just think that now is a time for studying, and you’ve worked hard enough already.”
You shift marginally closer to him. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Aaron does, and he suspects his team do to. “I’m fine doing both,” you say.
He’s sure he’ll win the argument one day. For now, he escorts you through the office to the round table, then his office, pulling you into Rossi’s office for a charming hello and then to JJ’s, where you’re greeted with excitement and a disarming amount of love. Aaron forgets sometimes how much he and his team have been through together. You really are a good surprise.
“Where are we going now?” you ask, following Aaron down a long corridor.
He smiles. “You don’t have a sensitivity to high-pitched noises, do you?”
Your confusion is plain on your face. Aaron takes you to a familiar door, placard reading in big, black letters: PENELOPE GARCIA, BAU TOP TECH AND DATA ANALYST. It’s surrounded by pink heart shaped stickers.
He knocks the ajar door politely. “Garcia?” he asks.
“Sir?” Penelope says back.
He eases open the door with his foot. Penelope turns in her chair, blonde hair in windswept curls, her lips painted a pink-orange.
“Garcia, this is Y/N, my daughter.”
Penelope’s mouth falls open. “I know who she is,” she says, nearly monotonous.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard so much about you. I love your trinkets,” you add, nodding at her wild desk.
Penelope gives Aaron a pleading look. He nods.
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Penelope says, rushing forward to throw her arms around you. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
You laugh and bow gently under her weight. “Me neither,” you say sincerely.
“Oh my gosh. Oh my god,” she says, pulling away to smile at Aaron, “she sounds like you, you weren’t kidding! How is it possible that she sounds like you?”
“Strong genetics?” he suggests.
“I’ve never been this happy in my life,” Penelope says.
He watches you take Penelope’s excited hand and thinks, that makes two of us.
“You’re so adorable, I’m looking for Hotch in your face but you don’t look like him at all. But your clothes! You’re so cute, like a baby politician!”
“I’m almost twenty three.”
“So young,” Penelope fawns.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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Always There
Agatha Harkness x Vampire!Reader x Rio Vidal
Word count: 4.9k
Notes: Non-major character death, depictions of violence, graphic violent content (blood, mob violence/torture, detailed wounds), angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, small mention of suicial tendencies, italics=past
Summary: Vampire reader has had a casual relationship with Agatha and Rio, but eventually too many years pass since their last encounter, the vampire starts to wonder if they still cared for her.
An: Posting this immediately after I finished writing it. Hope you enjoy. Likes, replies, reblogs, and all of that are appreciated 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️ Edit: Not me saying itallics and forgetting to actually put them lol
Masterlist
You’ve had a casual fling with Agatha and Rio for as long as you can recall. There’s a stereotype about witches coming and going as they please, and you find it to be frustratingly true.
It's easier to get ahold of Rio than Agatha, which is ironic considering that Rio is literally Death. With the title comes the job, so all you truly needed to get a glimpse of her was a body. Perhaps you could arrange the carcasses in a way that said ‘stay with me forever’.
As a vampire, you had time to wait. There was no rush, which is how you believe things got so casual. You could never forget how you met the pair.
At the time angry mobs were running rampant, looking for anyone to persecute. You were a known vampire living not to far from a village. They hunted you for sport. There were many of them that you killed, but eventually they were able to ambush you. When they did, they used wooden spikes to pin you to a large ‘X’ that they built. The scars from were they impaled your flesh still present today.
They tortured you; punching, spitting, stabbing, you had eventually lost track of time after a few hours. The need for blood weakening you enough to where breaking free was nearly impossible.
They’d come in shifts for the torture and leave only one person to watch you in the night. That was their only flaw. You didn’t expect anyone outside of the village to come across you, but someone did.
Your head was hung low, when you heard the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. You raised it slightly, to see the guard that was supposed to be watching you, dead on the floor.
“You don’t look too well.”
It had been days since you had tried to speak, so your voice was hoarse, “I wouldn’t think so.”
“What are you? Only someone different, is worth all of this trouble,” a different voice spoke.
Your eyes look to where the voices are coming from, but you only see shadows. Your tongue is dry as it passes over your bloody chapped lips.
“Vampire,” you mumbled.
“Help me get her down.”
When they approached, you finally got a good look at them. You couldn’t help but stare at their features. Both youthful with rosy cheeks. Rio’s large brown eyes caught your attention immediately, warm yet hiding something. Agatha’s features were sharper, her cheekbones, her jawline, even her eyes.
“This will hurt,” Rio examined the wood embedded into your skin.
“I know,” you spoke weakly.
You expected them to pull the spikes out with their hands. Instead your eyebrows furrowed when purple and green tendrils of magic worked around the spikes. Instead of 4, painfully slow, agonizing moments, there was only one rough pull, before your body fell off of the ‘X’. Only your knees hit ground as Agatha and Rio held up the rest of your body.
Your full weight pushed against them as your head rested in between their shoulders, “Thank you.”
“Hungry?”
Your eyes glowed a dim red, “I could drain a village.”
“Bloodthirsty, even in this state?” Agatha teased.
“Especially in this state,” you corrected.
You could hardly move, but you attempted to stand on your unstable legs. You grunted in pain as you put one foot in front of the other. Your focus was on the dead guard. His heart was no longer beating, but blood still filled his veins. It was calling to you, it had been too long since you had fed.
Your fangs snack into the man’s neck viciously. You had no remorse for the corpse as his body began to lose color as you drank. He wasn’t a large man, which was unfortunate, but he sufficed for the moment.
Harsh breaths and clearing of your throat, were indicators of how much you needed that. You wiped the blood off of your mouth with the back of your hand.
Your wounds were slowly closing, but it was taking all of the energy you had just gained.
“I can heal you faster,” Rio said tentatively grabbing your forearm.
She extended it so that it’s flat, before quickly running her tongue over the spot. You looked at her as if she was crazy, but then back at your wrist. The hole from the stake was gone, in its place was only a scar.
If you had a pulse, you were sure that it would be beating wildly.
You glanced at Agatha, who watched on, “Do you do that too?”
She shook her head, “Earth witch specialty.”
“How long did they have you like that?” Rio’s eyes have examined your body, noticing the extensive damage. Her finger trailed one of the nastier slashes across your stomach.
“I don't recall,” you spoke honestly.
Rio was careful as she healed the larger wounds on your body, you told her not to worry about the less significant ones. Even when she was done you were still caked in dirt and mostly your own blood.
“Let me help you out doll,” Agatha waved her fingers swiftly, and soon you were clean as a whistle.
Your tattered clothes replaced as if they were new, dirt and blood alike removed from your body. Ugly scars, now covered except for the few that littered your face.
“Why help me? We are only strangers, I don’t even know your names.”
“Abominations to humanity must stick together lest we want them to wipe every one of us out . You can call me Rio.”
“Agatha Harkness, pleasure to save you beautiful.”
One of your eyebrows raised, “Witch killer, Agatha Harkness?”
The woman chuckled, “I see my reputation supersedes my community. Does my aura scare you…”
“Y/n, and it does not. There are no rules when it comes to preservation of self. I’ve killed my own kind for good reasons and some not so good reasons. Bodies just seem to pile up when I’m around.”
“That why they nail you up like that?” Rio questioned.
You shrugged, “I suppose, a mixture of that and fear.”
“People fear death,” she spoke.
You shook your head as you corrected her, “Mortals fear death. I know people who are thousands of years old, who run from ailments of morality. They are foolish, death cannot be outran. Though it may take longer for her to come, she will eventually get all of us.”
“You aren’t afraid to die?” Agatha questioned you.
“No, there’s no point. She’ll come for me when it’s my time, but until then what is there to fear besides a wasted life.”
Rio had a small smile on her face, “Quite the philosophy you’ve fostered. Just one question, if you feel that way, then why kill anyone in the first place?”
It was your turn to chuckle, “If someone was meant to live, they simply would. I’m not stealing life, simply gifting death to those who have decided that it is their time.”
“How do you know that they’ve decided?” Agatha counters.
“Well you see, many people are weary of vampires and they should be. They let their guard down, they get comfortable, they play with their food instead of finishing the job. Those actions have consequences and I like to deal with those consequences personally. So I suppose when they choose to wrong me, they’ve chosen to die.”
“And the villagers who did this to you?” Rio pondered aloud.
You eyed her cautiously, “Do you stand to stop me?”
Rio shook her head, “I keep a witch killer in my company, you think I’m above a rightfully earned massacre?”
“Well you spoke of solidarity amongst-”
“Think of it this way, we can do what we want amongst each other, as it is our business. The humans have no right, to do what we do.”
You nod, “I agree.”
“So, you’re going to destroy the village?” Agatha questioned.
“My goal is to drain every last one.”
After that first encounter you were drunk on the thought alone of Agatha and Rio. Finding out Rio's true identity only made you lust for her even more. You knew that both had bonded with each other in ways you hadn’t understood, but that didn't stop your feelings from developing.
It didn't take long for them to fold you into their relationship, at least partially. They weren’t always around, but when they were everything seemed to fall back into place.
However, you’d be lying if you said you hadn't been getting restless these last few years. It was feeling like you saw less of them, especially Agatha. It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Somehow you had ended up chasing after them.
Tonight you walk the streets bored, part of you looking for trouble. Rumblings of new age vampire hunters in the area had piqued your interest. So you’d have a chance to have some fun or at minimum find your next meal.
Your fingers play with the rings they had gifted you, centuries ago. In the past you could feel both of them signaling you through the jewelry. It was a faint buzz, something like a hum, through the ring. A feeling that you hadn’t felt in ages. You longed to feel it again, to feel them.
Alleyways didn’t scare you, hardly anything scared you these days. Yet as you take a step into this alley, you sense something immediately. You feel eyes on you, as you walk.
��Has anyone ever told you to be mindful of where you settle demon?”
You continue walking, the empty threat meant nothing to you.
“I know what you are, I can smell it on you,” the voice echoes against the walls.
Your ears twitch, and soon you’re holding a frail man against one of the concrete walls in the alley.
“If you know what I am, you should be more mindful of how you approach me,” your strength speaks for itself.
You don’t give him the pleasure of seeing your fangs or glowing red eyes.
“Ah, you’re one of the older ones. This will be quite fun,” he says gleefully.
“What are you-" the question dies on your lips as you feel a needle being jabbed into your neck.
Your hand instinctively shoots over the spot, and your growl in frustration. You drop the man against the wall, turning your attention to the person who stuck you from behind with the needle.
This man was much bigger than the other. He was about twice your size, but it did not matter. You bare your fangs, hissing at the muscular man.
“Why isn’t she dropping?” He yells, fear laced through his voice.
You take the moment to pounce on him. Your teeth wasting no time, sinking into his neck. The man convulses under you, but you’re stronger than him. Even when he grabs your neck you don’t relent.
“Impossible,” the frail man, whispers from his spot against the wall.
“Nice try, but-”
The sensation hits you like a truck. You feel your vision get blurry and your muscles weaken. You blink a few times trying to will yourself against the late acting sedative.
The frail man nods excessively as you begin to lose consciousness, “Slower than usual, but captured nonetheless.”
You’re jolted back into consciousness when you feel the stake being driven into your skin. You attempt to shoot out of whatever position you are in, but it only causes you a familiar pain. Unlike the first time you were nailed to something, this time it was straight up rather than ‘X’ formation. Your arms hung up straight above your head and your feet were slightly spread underneath.
One spike was used to pierce both of your hands in place while you had one for each foot. Your breathing only quickens even more upon noticing you are in a forest. This couldn’t be happening.
“Glad you could finally join us,” the frail man from earlier want alone this time. He had a group of people with him.
“Let me go, and I’ll consider sparing you one I'm free,” you say, yet no one moves.
“You hold no power here, demon,” the man walks around you. “I am doctor Helsing, you may be familiar with my ancestors.”
Your jaw twitches, “ Van Helsing.”
He chuckles, “What a smart creature you are?”
“What do you want from me?”
His chuckle turns into a boisterous laughter, “ You can't offer me anything that I don't have the ability to take.”
You glare at the people in front of you, eyes turning a vicious shade of red, “The last group of people that tried something like this, paid for their sins with their lives. I hope you’re prepared to do the same.”
“They did quite a number on you, I can tell by your markings. Their only mistake was letting such a beautiful thing like you go,” Helsing says, his hand sliding across the scar on your abdomen.
“They didn’t let me go. I got out.”
His eyes had a glint as he leaned in, “And then you killed them all, how sad.”
He stabs you in the scar. Carving harder and deeper than the previous person. You grunt, but try to steel yourself under the knife. Yet you squirm finding the sensation to be more unpleasant than you had recalled.
“Silver cuts a little different doesn’t it?” He says watching the cut pour blood.
“You’re going to regret this.”
He turns his attention to the people, “Empty threats mean nothing when a beast is tied up. Would anyone else like a turn?”
People in his crowd begin to circle around you. Some with weapons, others cracking their knuckles. You're being attacked from all sides. The pain makes you tear up, but you avoid crying.
Instead you left out a bitter laugh, “That’s all you’ve got. Come on if you're gong to torture me at least put some passion behind it.”
“Oh, we’re just getting started. I want to hear you beg for your life, I want to see you broken, beaten, defeated. I want you to ask for death and then I'll award it to you.”
You spit at Helsing, “I’m not scared of death.”
He wipes your spit off of his face, a scowl now present, “For centuries my family has been driving your species to extinction. The failures may eclipse the successes, but don't think that we were never successful. You will fall at the hands of Van Helsing, creature.”
He has a device in his hand, he shoves it into your mouth. It forces your mouth open and your fangs out. He stares at them in awe. You try to clamp your mouth shut or retract your fangs, but you are unable to. You start to panic.
“Just like a snake, de-fang the vampire and a lot of that fear is gone,” his smile is sadistic.
You feel your adrenaline sky rocket as you shake violently. Your eyes wide in terror. The wood stake ripping your skin, but the pain was nothing akin to the fright.
You don’t remember the last time you were truly this scared.
He laughs and some of the crowd laugh along with him, “Are you afraid now, demon?”
Tears fall from your eyes and he coos. You flinch at his hand touching your face. His fingers were rough and callused against the swollen skin. You move your head as if to attack him and he stumbles back.
He grabs your jaw roughly, “This is the power of man.”
“Looks like someone is having a party and forgot to invite us.”
You know that voice. It makes you close your eyes in relief. The panic you felt in the moment begins to dissipate.
Everyone looks to the sky following the sound of the voice. It’s there that they see Agatha and Rio floating in the sky. Most of the crowd has their mouths agape, not believing what they are seeing.
“Should we offer them mercy, Agatha? Maybe our invites got lost in the mail?”
“This matter does not concern you foul wenches, be gone,” Helsing says, his voice trembles a bit at the end.
It’s Agatha that cackles looking down at the man, “See that’s where your wrong because…”
Rio appears behind the man, her skeletal form on her face, “If it concerns her, then it concerns us.”
Her dagger lays on his neck and he looses his composure.
“Anyone want to be brave?” Agatha questions the crowd, who screams when she shoots her magic at a nearby tree exploding it.
“What happened? A second ago you were lining up to torture her, but now you’re scared,” Rio adds pressure to her dagger.
“Don’t get shy now, doctor. Nothing to say?” Agatha gets closer to him.
The group tries to scatter but she traps them in a circle full of fire. They’re forced to gather close to each other. Their screams make you smile.
Agatha pulls the device out of your mouth carefully. Her hand caresses your face gently. You lean into her touch.
“We have to stop meeting like this doll,” Agatha mumbles only for you to hear.
“We wouldn’t have to meet again if you stopped leaving,” you shoot back.
Agatha casts her gaze away from you and over to Helsing. She and Rio switch places. The Green Witch, uses her vines to pull the spikes out of your body. It’s a feeling that never gets easier to experience.
You land on your feet ignoring the burning sensation. With your back tall you walk over to Helsing. You crouch in front of him, despite your own agony.
You hold his eyes, “Funny, I recall you telling me I’d beg for death. Well now she’s here for me, just not in the way you expected is it?”
Rio wiggles her fingers at the doctor, “I loved dragging the souls of your family to eternal damnation, can’t wait to reunite you with them.”
“Humans are all the same, always playing with food that’s not yours,” you stand towering over the man.
“Hey I like to play with my food,” Agatha pouts.
You smile, “When you have power you can do what you want.”
You open your hand and Rio drops her dagger into your grasp. The crowd watches in panic behind the flames as you approach the man.
“However, I’ve never been one to play with my food,” in a swift motion you slit his throat.
The gasps and screams of his followers sounds like music to your ears. He gargles his own blood reaching for his neck.
“Your blood isn’t worth drinking,” you watch as he collapses. You turn to address the crowd, “None of you have worthy blood. Cowards, followers, miscreants, I hope it was worth it. The price is your life, now burn.”
Agatha waves her hand dismissively and the crowd of people are quickly evaporated. Ash and burnt grass the only remnants of the aggressors.
Upon their destruction you crumble to the floor. Your body screaming at you for the abuse you endured.
Rio starts with the wound on your stomach before healing the spiked points. Your body still aches when she’s finished, but it’s substantially less than before.
“Déjà vu isn’t it bunny?” Agatha opens the floor for conversation.
“Now isn’t the time Agatha,” Rio scolds the woman, who raises her hands in defense.
“I was just reminiscing, is that a crime?”
You stand, “Well, good seeing you. Same time… in the next few centuries or…”
“You’re hurt,” Rio argues.
“You healed me enough,” you shrug.
Agatha rolls her eyes, “What’s with the attitude princess?”
You place a hand on your hip, “When was the last time we saw each other, Agatha? Rio, you only come when I leave bodies in my wake. So sorry if I’m not thrilled it takes me being captured and tortured to get some time together.”
“It’s always been this way,” Agatha argues back.
Your voice takes on an uncharacteristically soft tone, “I know and I’m tired. I don’t want whatever this is. I need something more, something tangible. It’s fine if you don't want to give that to me, but I can't keep waiting.”
You try to keep calm as you pull the rings off of your fingers, hand out stretched to give them back to their original owners.
“Y/n…”
“Take them… please. Free me, from whatever this is. I’m grateful that you saved me on our first day and maybe the same thing happening again is fate telling me that this is our last day,” you get the courage to look at them with teary eyes.
“You don't even believe in fate,” Agatha tries to reason with you.
“How would you know, you haven't been around. Things change, people change,” you tell her.
Agatha looks to Rio for help, but The Green Witch, just keeps her eyes on you.
“That’s bullshit! If change is so real, how’d we end up right back where we started hmm? Poor little hung up bat, in need of saving and here we are like always,” Agatha’s theatrics peak through her words.
“Like always?” You repeat, in disbelief.
“Look sweetheart, I know that-"
You ball your fists at your side, “What could you possibly know Agatha? Tell me, I’m interested in hearing. Did you know I spend all my time waiting for either of you to tell me if you want me or not? I don’t sleep, I just think and think and think about finding a way to end it all without having to see either of you. Hard to kill yourself with Death keeping tabs on you, even without a heartbeat. I knew this guy was tracking me, I knew what he wanted to do, and I said fuck it. I don’t care, what’s there to live for anyway?”
“You can't be serious?” Rio doesn’t want to believe what you’re saying.
“Of course I’m serious, part of me thought that after all these years humans would be over torture, but that was foolish of me. Why would I think that you'd come to save me? I still don’t understand why you did.”
“Because we love you, you fucking idiot!” Agatha shouts at you.
You scoff, “Do you really? I couldn’t tell by the hundreds of years apart.”
“We were protecting you,” Agatha gets in your space.
“What could have possibly been protecting me? Oh no, a loving and caring environment? How ever could I have managed such domestic delights and pleasures,” your voice drips sarcasm.
“You do realize that Rio is Death, right? Her job is literally to reap souls, you aren’t the only one that doesn’t get to see her often. And me… I’m all trouble, doll. There’s not a pleasant bone in my body.”
You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “Did you forget who I am? Have you had a head trauma recently, or maybe you need a refresher? I’m not the greatest either, cupcake. I just slit a man’s throat and had his followers executed.”
“By me,” Agatha points out.
“Ok and you want credit for the villages I killed too? The vampires I murdered? The people I lied to? The whores I fucked? I’m not some sweet innocent thing you picked up off of the side of the road. My ledger has had blood on it since before you killed your original coven.”
Your eyes are red as they stare into her blue ones.
“We were scared,” Rio interrupts the rising tensions between you and Agatha.
“Scared of what?” You glance at her.
“Of committing to you. Hell, Agatha and I can’t even fully commit to each other. This game of cat and mouse, it’s all we know. You’re right, you deserve more, so much more, but we don’t know how to give it. We don’t know what a domestic life looks like, we aren’t domestic people. I didn't think there would be any doubt in your head that we loved you, and maybe that just shows how fucked up we really are,” Rio monologues.
Her words hit you harshly. They make you want to start crying all over again. You cast your gaze to the floor.
“I guess that brings us back to the original point then, doesn’t it? Maybe it’s better if we just, end it here,” you can’t look at them.
“If that’s what you want?” Rio nods solemnly.
Agatha looks between the two of you, “Are you two stupid or something? You have to be if you think I’m just going to agree to this.”
“Agatha-”
“Don’t. I love you, both of you. I don’t want this to end and if that means changing the way things operate, then I guess things just have to change,” Agatha speaks seriously.
“What are yo-”
You startle when Agatha grabs your hands in both of hers. Her eyes locking fiercely onto yours. She doesn’t blink as she speaks, “Move in with me.”
“What?”
“You want time together, we can have time together. We’ve basically been together for centuries, come live with me.”
“Agatha, I think you've lost the plot,” Rio says, cautiously.
“You too Dr. Green Thumb. Let’s all move in together,” Agatha nods her head.
“That doesn’t fix everything,” you focus on her hands over yours.
She doesn’t hesitate to raise her hands to cup your face, “There’s obviously a lot to fix, but you can’t tell me this isn’t a step in the right direction. Y/n, I don’t want to- I can’t lose you. I’m not willing to let you go without a fight.”
Your face heats in her hands. Her eyes are ablaze with passion as they keep contact with yours.
You sigh and rest your forehead against hers, “I don’t know Agatha.”
Rio joins the moment, carefully wrapping her arms around your torso, “I don’t think any of us really know, but I think we’re supposed to find out together.”
“Please,” Agatha’s breath hits your lips. “Just a chance to make up for lost time. If it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t, but please don’t give up on us yet.”
Hearing Agatha beg like this tugs at your heart. You don’t want to give in this easily, but you’ve already wasted so much time.
“Ok.”
As the word falls from your lips, Agatha surges forward. You can recall the last time her lips were on yours. The warmth that they were able to send through your body. How firm she was in her kiss, not scared or uncertain as your lips moved together. She knew what she wanted and it was hard to picture a world in which she’d kiss someone she wasn’t interested in the way she was kissing you. You were the one she wanted.
Your legs grow weak, but Rio holds you steady. Her shifting grip, makes you turn to face her. Unlike Agatha she hesitates. She takes a moment to admire your features, she wasn’t in a rush. Neither were you. Rio’s kiss is softer than Agatha’s, her plush lips, move experimentally against yours. It’s not like she’s forgotten, more like she’s re-exploring. She's playful, as her teeth nibble on your bottom lip. You laugh at the sensation.
Rio rests her head on your shoulder. She extends her hands, motioning for the other witch to get closer. Agatha wraps her arms around the both of you. Her front to your back while her hands rest on Rio’s back. You’re encased by them, a feeling that is welcomed yet foreign to you.
“Promise that you'll keep me close” you say to both of them.
“Until the road ends, my love,” Agatha kisses the top of your head.
“I’ll hold you even after the road ends,” Rio kisses the base of your neck.
“Do you always have to one up me?” Agatha says to Rio.
Rio chuckles, “Sounds like a skill issue sweetheart.”
“Oh, we’ll see who has a skill issue later, when you’re begging me for help because my fingers are longer than yours,” Agatha says smugly.
Rio pulls back from you to glare at Agatha, “If you don’t want to ‘help’ me, I’ll just ask Y/n. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”
You blush at the innuendo.
“Nuh uh, bunny. I think I recall you liking my treats better, because someone has a skill issue,” Agatha sticks her tongue at Rio.
You turn an even deeper shade of red.
“You can never let an emotional moment be,” Rio says.
“Well you’re always trying to out ‘emotional’ me,” Agatha replies.
“It’s not my fault you’re not as smooth as me, mi vida,” Rio counters again.
Agatha throws her hands up, “I know Spanish and Latin too, you’re not special Vidal.”
Rio raises an eyebrow, “And who taught you?”
The back and forth makes you laugh, “Are you sure you don’t do domestic, because you bicker like an old married couple?”
They both huff at your statement.
“We’ll continue this at home,” Agatha points at Rio.
The brown eyed woman puts her hand over her heart in faux-fear, “Oooo, I’m terrified.”
Agatha opens a portal to her house and both women step through. Not stopping their bickering for a second. You smile as you watch them, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time.
“The portal isn’t going to stay open forever, bunny, come on,” Agatha reaches her hand to pull you through.
You take it, stepping into your new beginning.
#lowkeyerror#agatha x reader#agathario#agatha harkness x rio vidal#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal x reader#rio vidal#agatha harkness
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tear you apart
》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader
》 wc: 3.3k
》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.
》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut
🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin
It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.
Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season.
Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you.
"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.
"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."
There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment.
It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful.
Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist.
The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented.
From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.
His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.
Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast.
—
It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.
You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.
The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.
Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.
Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you.
“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”
He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.
“I’m Y/N.”
"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."
You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.
He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.
Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.
"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."
The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.
That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.
“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.”
There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?
“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry.
He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away.
"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again.
"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.
"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.
Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"
Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted… it causes complications."
He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.
"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little… issue of mine."
Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter.
"And how exactly would I… help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."
—
You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles.
The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves.
“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.”
You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.
“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.
“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin.
“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter.
You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will.
His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest.
“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”
—
You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis.
You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds.
“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily.
Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.
Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away.
Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt.
Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.
“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.
You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled.
Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.
“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.”
Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”
You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.
Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity.
When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.
He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.
Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament—how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.
#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut#seonghwa scenarios#park seonghwa smut#park seonghwa#park seonghwa x reader
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SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO
SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity
INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.
He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.
And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.
Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.
Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.
Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.
“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.
He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.
“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.
“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.
“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.
He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”
His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.
And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.
“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.
“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.
“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.
“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.
The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.
You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.
Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.
“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.
Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.
“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.
His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”
As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.
“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.
“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.
“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.
“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.
“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”
You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.
#—☆classyrbf#jjk#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk smut#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x reader smut#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x reader smut#choso kamo smut#choso smut oneshot#choso kamo smut oneshot#jjk x reader smut#jjk smut oneshot#jjk choso#choso kamo
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Can you write a blurb for leah please? Leah’s been working out more & trying to get reader to notice her abs & compliment her. Funny with flexing plz 🤣
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Leah’s been walking around shirtless for three days.
Not that you’re complaining, exactly—your girlfriend is gorgeous, and you’re only human—but the constant parading is starting to feel deliberate. She’s not usually this brazen. Leah likes a good hoodie, a T-shirt, or one of your oversized sweatshirts that somehow still fit her perfectly. But lately, every time you turn around, there she is, abs out, like she’s auditioning for the front cover of Men’s Health.
It starts with the “accidental” stretches. She’s lying on the sofa, scrolling through her phone, and then—oh!—she just happens to sit up and twist, her arms above her head, the faint outline of her six-pack on full display.
“Stretching again?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
She shrugs. “Been working out more. You know, core strength and all that”
“Right,” you say, biting back a smile, because you know exactly what she’s doing.
Then there’s the kitchen incident. You’re making tea, minding your own business, when Leah decides to “help” by reaching for something on the top shelf, her tank top riding up conveniently as she does.
“Need a hand?” she asks, glancing down at you.
“I’m good,” you reply, trying not to laugh.
“Sure? I’ve got great upper body strength now. All those planks are paying off”
“I’m sure they are,” you say, turning back to the kettle.
But the pièce de résistance comes later, when you’re curled up on the sofa watching a film. Leah’s sitting beside you, shirtless again (because, of course, why not?), and she’s fidgeting in that way that lets you know she’s desperate for attention.
You decide to test your theory.
“Are you cold?” you ask innocently.
“Nope,” she replies, flexing slightly.
“Comfortable?”
“Very.” Another subtle flex, this time accompanied by her arm draped casually over the back of the sofa, as if to frame herself perfectly.
You smother a laugh and glance at her, deadpan. “Alright, show-off, what’s this about?”
She blinks, feigning innocence. “What d’you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve been walking around here like a Love Island contestant for three days. What’s the deal?”
She shifts, looking sheepish. “I just… thought you might’ve noticed”
“Noticed what?”
“My abs!” she blurts, sitting up straight. “I’ve been working on them for weeks, and you haven’t said a word!”
You stare at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“Leah Williamson,” you say between giggles, “are you fishing for compliments?”
“No!” she protests, but her ears have gone red.
“Babe,” you say, reaching out to poke her stomach. “Your abs are amazing. They’re the eighth wonder of the world. I’m shocked the sun hasn’t come out just to reflect off them”
“Alright, don’t be a knob,” she mumbles, though she’s smiling now.
You lean closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Seriously, though. You look incredible. Always have, always will”
She tries to act nonchalant, but you catch the way her chest puffs up slightly.
“And just so you know,” you add, smirking, “I noticed. I’ve just been enjoying watching you work for it”
“Unbelievable,” she mutters, though she can’t hide her grin as she pulls you into her lap.
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things matt does that makes you question your friendship | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. unestablished relationship headcanons wc 618 (library) + (request)
best friend!matt who's so attentive to your needs. he's always checking in on you, especially when you're out together. he'll rest his hand on your back before leaning towards your ear to whisper and ask how you're doing. during dinners with friends he'll look over at you and raise his eyebrows in question, waiting for your signal. if you're ever uncomfortable, he has no qualms about gathering all of his things and dragging you away from the chaos. your comfort is always above everything.
best friend!matt who adds love songs to your shared playlist. you both update your joint playlist pretty frequently, sometimes even sending the songs to each other beforehand. matt often will send a song with an attached message like 'this song reminds me of you' or 'i think you'll like this, just added it to our playlist'. you didn't notice it at first but once you started looking at the lyrics of the songs, they always mentioned love, infatuation, unrequited love, and more romantic topics.
best friend!matt who created a nickname for you that only he can use. he gets incredibly upset when someone uses the nickname he gave you, and even more upset if you let them. he made it up and reserved it specifically for you while making it known that you're the only person who has that privilege over him. he'll be giddy if you create your own special nickname for him, and will ignore anyone who addresses him by it if it's not you.
best friend!matt who doesn't correct people when they think you're dating. it's happened plenty of times, the way the two of you cuddle up to each other in public and have animated conversation that only the both of you can hear, anyone with eyes would think the two of you were dating. and whenever someone assumes, before you can interject to deny their claims, matt quickly throws out a 'thank you' with a smile before pulling you away and avoiding your question of why you didn't correct them.
best friend!matt who unknowingly seeks out your approval. after he makes a joke you're the first person he looks at, just waiting to see your smile and hear the familiar sound of your laughter. it always gave him a sense of pride when you paid attention and recognized him, even if it was for something as small as laughing at his crappy jokes.
best friend!matt who takes candid photos of you. it's always when you least expect it, building a lego set in the tranquility of his bedroom and you'll randomly see a flash out of the corner of your eye. at first you used to poke at him about it and beg for him to delete it, but it happens so often now that you can only grow a flustered smile, wondering just why he takes so many pictures of you. not realizing he has a photo album dedicated to just you with a matching wallpaper to prove it.
best friend!matt who can't get you of his head. he's surrounded by you, your face on his homescreen, the last hoodie of his you wore resting on the back of his chair, your hair ties on his nightstand, while one of your favorite childhood tv shows play in the background..he sees you in everything he does and everywhere he goes, and he makes it known. always sending you a small update text when he's thinking about you and sometimes a picture of what exactly reminded him of you. 'watching your show, made me think of u :) ❤️'
best friend!matt who is so utterly obsessed and in love with his best friend.
' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @madifilipowiczslvt @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @chrisprincesss @koilaniazul @chrispleasure
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo headcanon#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo#matt stuniolo fanfic
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Sorry Won't Fix This
lando norris x fem reader
summary: Lando makes the biggest mistake of his life, bigger than any apology, and you both hoped there was a way to fix it. Unfortunately, you both wished it at different times. (5.5k words)
warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of sex, manipulation, mede up characters, use of Y/N
a/n: I FINALLY WROTE MORE ANGST! This is a long one and I held nothing back. I really did try to make it as hurtful and dramatic as possible and ngl I was inspired by 'Don't worry darling' for a tiny part of this (you'll know when you read it) but anyway, this one does NOT have a happy ending so please let me know what you think!
Check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
You had a terrible feeling, but you were too scared to look into it, terrified you would be right.
Truth is, you started feeling like that just a few weeks ago, when you went back to Lando’s apartment to surprise him with lunch and found an empty room and the bed unmade from somebody sleeping on it. Any other day that would’ve been completely normal, but you had stayed with him the night before and made the bed as soon as you both got up to get ready for your separate plans for the day, leaving a perfectly made bed to come back to.
Before that day, you would’ve never in a million years thought that Lando would cheat on you. He had always been so loving and caring, even before you started dating, and once you officially became a thing, he would constantly remind you how much he loved you, and on special days he was the most romantic person ever, and you always thought that you would spend the rest of your life with him, but now... you didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t bury the thought of him with someone else after it crossed your mind briefly while looking at the messy bed.
Later that night you asked him about it, trying hard not to sound like you were accusing him of something, but his excuse just made you feel worse, your suspicions growing.
“What do you mean?” He asked as he inspected his bed, unsure of what was wrong with it.
“Well, you know, I made the bed this morning before we left, remember?”
“Oh, uh- yeah, I came back to- to take a nap,” he stuttered, not even looking at you.
But it kept happening, a few more times.
Things started to change after that; he cancelled the plans you made for when he came back home, he suddenly was too busy every day and your presence might be a distraction for all the things he had to get done for the next race, he was so tired at night he didn’t have the energy for anything, and he even asked you to go back to sleep in your own apartment, claiming he just needed to sleep on his own to be comfortable, even though you were used to sleeping together.
Long story short, he was distant; he was never around anymore, and even when he was, you felt like you were missing him. He was just... different, and you were beating herself up wondering what had changed.
He, on the other hand, didn’t miss you, seeing he didn’t make an effort anymore and he could go days without answering a text or returning a call, and it was not because you took a long time to reply; you would always respond in a heartbeat if it was him. If it weren’t for all the times you visited him at his apartment when a news outlet brought up that he was back in Monaco to make sure he was doing okay, you wouldn’t talk to each other at all.
But today you were feeling hopeful. It was your anniversary, and you had a date night planned — a date he didn’t cancel, so you took the entire afternoon to do your nails, your hair, and pick a beautiful dress to wear, his favourite dress. Your makeup took a while, but you still managed to be ready on time for the wonderful night you had ahead, so you made your way to him, your palms sweating when you knocked on the door.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Was the first thing he asked, wiping her smile off of her face.
“I thought we would go out tonight,” you replied, looking down at your hands to hide your clear disappointment.
“Oh- I guess I forgot to tell you but I remembered I have an important meeting tomorrow morning, so I’m not gonna make it." The door was barely open, and he was standing where the crack was, blocking his apartment as he held the door with a strong grip.
“Okay,” your voice was so faint you barely heard it yourself. “Do you need anything? I could stay here for a couple of hours.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I think it’s better if you leave.”
Tears pricked your eyes, swallowing the small lump forming in your throat. “Why?”
“Well, I’m busy with a few things. You know, I have a really early day tomorrow, and you can’t really help me with a McLaren meeting, can you?”
You shook your head slowly “I guess I’m leaving then.”
The tears you had been holding started to fall as soon as you turned around; you could feel your mascara clumping on your eyelashes and forming black streaks down your cheeks, ruining the contour and highlight you applied in hopes of impressing your boyfriend. You ran back to your car and let it all out once you closed the door. You really thought things would be different tonight, but you were wrong.
You started driving to your best friend’s house, desperate to vent about how terrible your relationship was going since you had been keeping a secret from everyone; the last thing you needed was the media to get in the middle of this.
“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you okay?” Mia asked you when she saw the mascara tears.
You shook your head as you stepped inside, small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to stop the crying.
“What happened?” She took your hand and guided you to the couch.
“Lando.”
“What about Lando?”
“I think he’s cheating on me." You had never said that out loud, and saying it broke your heart even more. “I wish I was crazy, but the signs... I know he is.”
“I’m not trying to defend him or anything, but what makes you think that?”
“Everything, Mia. He has been acting so... distant. Ever since-” You stopped yourself. You never told anyone your relationship with Lando wasn’t doing so well, making up excuses to cover his. You just wanted to hold on to everyone else’s idea of you two, thinking you were the perfect couple.
“What? Have you guys been fighting?”
You took a deep breath before saying, “Remember the last time I stayed over at his apartment?” She nodded in response, “Well, later that day I went back to surprise him with lunch, but he wasn’t there and the bed was a complete mess, and you know I always make the bed when I wake up. He said he went back to take a nap, but he was supposed to be with Carlos all morning, and it didn’t make sense he had time to come back, take a nap, and then leave again, so I asked Carlos, and they didn’t meet at all that day. Is that insane?”
"No, Y/N, of course not.” Mia didn’t know what to say; she wanted to comfort you but she didn’t know how. “And he’s been acting weird since then?”
You nodded, wiping your tears away. “Yeah, he’s been pushing me away since that day. Telling me he doesn’t have time because he’s so busy with the season, which I understand, but not even answering a couple of texts? And cancelling every date we had planned?”
“Is that what happened today? I thought it was your anniversary.”
“It is.” You were nibbling on your lip profusely, looking up so tears would stop falling. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
“Have you told him how you feel?” You shook your head again; you hated confrontation, and you were hoping you didn’t have to do that. “I think you should go talk to him.”
“Right now?”
“If not now, then when? You say you’ve been feeling like something’s off for a while, but you haven’t said anything to him.”
“I don’t know Mia-”
“If he is cheating on you then you need to break up with him, you don’t deserve to be in that situation, and you deserve to know the truth.”
You inhaled as you considered what Mia just said. She was right, but to be completely honest, you weren’t ready yet. “I really want to know, but I can't.”
“Why not?”
“Because what if he is?” Tears started rolling down your face again, Mia hugging you tight as soon as it happened. “I love him, and... I just want things to go back to normal.”
“I know you do, but believe me, it’s better if you know.”
You stayed there for a while, but ultimately decided to go talk to him, but you needed to put yourself back together before confronting him. Mia helped you to wash your face and fix your hair, comforting you and offering to stay with you once the two of you were done talking. You accepted; you didn’t want to be alone, and Anne, your flatmate, had been going out of town a lot recently, so your apartment was empty, and you knew it’d be a long night.
Once you felt better and ready to talk to him, Mia drove you to his place as you repeated in your head everything you wanted to tell him. You knocked loudly and didn’t stop until he opened. He looked annoyed, and you stormed inside as soon as he opened the door.
“What are you doing?”
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
You blinked at him twice. Did he not think you needed to talk? “About us, Lando. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Okay, now you were mad. “Lando, you have been ignoring me for days, and I understand if you’re busy, but it doesn’t explain you pushing me away at all times.”
“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”
There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other as you tried to remember the questions you were supposed to ask, but none of them seemed to make sense now that you were standing in front of him “That’s all you’re gonna say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“How about you tell me exactly what’s going on?”
You were both raising your voices, but Lando especially. “I told you already, I’ve been busy with the season-”
“I could’ve stayed here with you or gone with you to races if that meant spending more time together, like we have done before.”
“But why would you want to do that?”
“To keep you company, maybe?”
“But all you do is stand around while I do my job.”
“Lando, do you know how many weeks I’ve spent away from home just so we can be together? And you don’t even care anymore, you didn’t even care to say thank you.”
“I never asked you to come,” he mumbled.
You scoffed before shaking your head. “I wanted to, you know I worry about you when you stress yourself out about a race, you tend to overwork yourself-”
“I. Never. Asked. You. To. Come." He interrupted you, his tone punctuated with each word. “I would’ve been fine without you, I don’t need you in my hair at all times." His eyes hardened, his mouth opening to speak again. “Don’t you have better things to do?”
“I just- I’m your girlfriend, I guess I thought you liked to be with me.”
“I do, but you don’t have to be so clingy all the time.”
You didn’t say anything, hoping you heard it wrong or that he’d apologise, but he didn't. “What?”
“You know, we do everything together and-”
“No, we used to do things together, not everything." You corrected him.
He took a deep breath, as if he was done dealing with you. “Right. Look, I’m tired, we can talk tomorrow.”
You nodded, holding back the tears as you walked towards the door. “Happy anniversary,” you said before slamming it closed and running back to Mia’s car.
Lando sat on his couch with his head between his hands for a moment. How could he forget? He took a deep breath as he got up, looking for a ribbon and a gift he bought for you who knows how long ago.
He made his way to Mia’s flat; he assumed you would be there, and your car parked outside confirmed his suspicions, so he knocked on the door a couple of times before saying, “Baby, I’m sorry. I was caught up in all the things I have to do before leaving, and I didn’t realise what day it was." But he got no response. “Y/N please, I know you’re here. Will you please talk to me?”
“Go away, Lando.” Mia was the one to yell, making Lando realise he would not be able to fix it, not tonight anyway.
“Okay, I’m leaving this here. I- I love you.”
You called in sick for your job the next day, your sore eyes and pounding headache being the only things you could think about. Well, that and Lando.
You were staring at the gift he bought for your one-year anniversary — what you were supposed to celebrate the day before. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he remembered you mentioning it on one of your first dates ever, but it was the letter inside that broke your heart. It looked... unfinished, like he didn’t even care enough to give it a proper ending, so you were wondering how long ago he stopped working on it.
The days after that were rough, long nights of wondering what you could have possibly done wrong, but even then you didn’t talk to him. He tried to, a couple of times, but you needed a little bit of time.
A couple of weeks went by, and you found yourself alone at your apartment, catching up on the work you missed for calling in sick so many times.
It was your birthday, and Mia insisted a million times you go out and celebrate, clear your head, and forget about Lando once in for all, but somehow it felt wrong; you had made plans with Lando a few months back to bring your family to a race so they could finally meet him, but obviously that wasn’t happening anymore, so what was the point of celebrating? You just needed to focus and get things done anyway.
You were thankful that Mia had been for you through it all; you really were, but sometimes crying alone did more for you than having someone tell you ‘everything's gonna be okay.' You were tired of hearing that.
Hours later, you found yourself with a cup of coffee to finally catch up on the last project. It wasn’t really that much of a workload, and you didn’t need to stay up all night to do that, but you were going to anyway. Perhaps you just wanted to be productive, or maybe that was you trying to occupy your mind from the possibility of your boyfriend cheating on you.
You looked at the clock; it was 11:30 PM. You sighed, typing away whatever you were supposed to on your laptop, your eyes sore from staring at it for too long, when a text message interrupted you.
Unknown [Attachment: 1 photo]
Unknown: I heard they have been at it for a while.
That text message induced such a great shock on your tired, worn-out body, tears falling down your face as soon as you read it. You didn’t want to open it as you were sure of what this was about, but your curiosity got the best of you.
Tapping on the notification, you prepared yourself mentally to confirm your terrible suspicions. And they were confirmed.
Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you were able to see Lando standing next to his new Ferrari, and he was with someone else, except you couldn’t see who it was, the big jacket and a beanie protecting her identity. He was smiling down at her, eyes full of... love? Those green eyes you thought he reserved for you only, but clearly you were wrong. His big hands were around her waist as hers went around his neck, and his lips were stained with lipstick.
You broke down crying, curled up on your bed as you wore one of Lando’s hoodies that still smelt like him. You now knew what the truth was, but you didn’t want to accept it. What happened to you two? When did he stop loving you?
It was like your heart was ripped from your chest; all that time you spent together down the drain like it was nothing, like it all meant nothing to him.
You didn’t know for how long you cried the night before, but it was now 1 PM and you were just waking up, so you probably cried for hours. There was nothing left you could do to save your relationship, so you made up your mind to break up with him as soon as he came back from the American triple header.
Y/N: We need to talk, just let me know when you’re here.
The message was left unanswered, as usual. You rolled your eyes and put your phone down, returning to your video call with Mia.
“Do you know who that is?”
“No, sorry.”
You sighed as you sipped your hot coffee “What about the number? Do you know who sent the picture?”
“What’s the number? Maybe I can ask around to see if any of my friends know.”
You sent her the phone number, along with the picture of Lando and the other girl. “Thanks. Don’t show anyone that picture thought. I’m already embarrassed as it is.”
“Embarrassed? Y/N, he should be the embarrassed one, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Maybe I did-”
“No, stop doing that to yourself. We both know it’s not your fault.”
You nodded. “I can’t help it. I just don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Was I not enough? Why did he need to find someone else?”
Mia hated to see you going through that, how you felt like you were not enough or that it all ended because of you, and she hated Lando for causing all of that. “I know it’s hard right now, but I promise you’ll understand that none of this is your fault. Y/N you’re amazing, and he’s an idiot for not realising.”
Talking to her made you feel better, but all those terrible emotions came back whenever you looked at the picture again, a million questions invading your mind. How long has he been doing this? Who is she? Does he still love you? What did you do wrong?
A couple of days later, Lando finally replied to your text.
Lando: Just got back. I’m in my apartment
Your heart sank at the notification; you didn’t want to talk to him; you didn’t want things to be over. There was still a part of you that hoped everything was just a misunderstanding, hoping he wasn’t cheating on you and she was just a friend. But deep down you knew the truth, and the possibility of it being a mix-up was down to zero, and after he made it clear that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore, you decided to fulfil his wishes.
It was a long drive to his home; it felt longer than usual, but maybe you were just dreading the conversation you knew was about to happen.
You took a deep breath before knocking on the door, Lando opening it almost right away.
"Hey,” he said faintly, worried he got caught.
“Hi.” You entered the apartment you once thought you would move into and looked around. You had been there a million times, and so many of those times were special little moments you shared together, but right now it felt like you were disconnected from the space. “How was the triple header?”
“Not great- I don’t know. It was messy, I guess." He tried to give you a smile but stopped himself when he noticed your stare full of fury. “What did you want to talk about?”
Seriously? “I’m breaking up with you." Your voice was weak, but you did not dare let a tear slip past your waterline; he didn’t deserve to see you cry.
“What?” The shock in his eyes looked so real that you almost believed him “Why?”
“Did you really just ask that?”
“So that’s it? We’re over?”
“Lando, come on, we’ve been over for a while." You stepped closer to him, pain and anger written all over your face as the tears struggled to stay on your eyes. “We didn’t even feel like a couple anymore. Lando, you forgot our anniversary, and that day you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. And to think I planned a beautiful night for us and bought you a great gift. Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?”
“I didn’t know you were feeling like that.”
“Of course not, when have you ever listened to me anyway?”
Lando rolled his eyes “Okay, I understand, but we don’t have to break up, I already explained what happened that day, I was busy and completely lost track of time.”
“And I guess she doesn’t have anything to do with this?” You showed him the picture, his demeanour changing immediately.
“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry." His eyes and his voice softened as he tried to reach for you, but you turned around and wiped the tears that managed to leave your eyes, a million questions flooding your mind again.
“So it’s true." You were just confirming to yourself what you already knew. Anger and pain washed over your body. Why her? Why her when you’ve been nothing but perfect to the man you loved the most?
“Baby, I can explain.”
You turned around to face him again “Who is she?” He shook his head, his eyes begging you not to make him say it while yours watered, “Who is she?” You repeated.
“You don’t wanna know.”
“Why? Cause I might find out you’re cheating?”
A few tears started to roll down his face, his hands desperate to hold yours. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Cause you’re gonna hate me even more." You stared at him, even more tears falling as you tried to think who the girl could be.
“Did you two- did you sleep with her?” His nod was barely perceptible; if you didn’t already know the answer, you would’ve missed it. Maybe he was right; maybe it’d be better if you didn’t know.
“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”
“Stop it.”
“I know I fucked up, but she doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear.”
“Shut up, Lando. I just… I don’t understand.”
“Let me explain-”
“And I don’t care how many times you apologise, how do you expect me to forgive you?” You took a couple of steps back, trying to figure out what caused him to do such a thing. “Even if we stayed together and got married and started a family, how can I ever look at you and not think about that?”
"Baby, I want all of that, I want the rest of my life with you, like we talked.”
“That was before you ruined everything.”
“I know what i did is wrong-”
“Wrong?”
“But we can work this out.”
“What? No, Lando, stop.”
“Just give me another chance, please.”
“Is that why you've been so distant, huh? Was she here on our anniversary?” Lando didn’t say anything, and the flashes from Lnado’s knuckles turning white from holding the door closed that night creeped your mind. Your heart ached so much that every time you breathed deeply, it was scorching you to the core “How could you do that?”
“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologising.”
“You know I didn’t mean it.”
“Just stop… god.”
“Y/N just hear me out, I swear it only happened once.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I know that’s not true. Do you know how many times I came to an unmade bed? And how many excuses you made?” He stayed silent. “I don’t care how many times it happened, you still did it and nothing is gonna change that.”
“I know.”
“You’ve been hurt before, right? What if I was the one cheating? Would you just forget it ever happened and come back to me?” Once again, he didn’t say anything. “No. Of course you wouldn’t. Lando, how could I ever forget what you did? Or everything you said to me when we were fighting, and the fact that you lied and- and cheated-”
“But you came all the way here.”
“Because I care, and you... you never cared, you never tried-”
“I care, I care so much. Baby, please, you have to believe me." He tried to reach out to you, but you pushed his hand away.
"No, you don’t, and if I’m here, it’s because I know after this we’ll never see each other again, we’ll never talk again and this just has to end.”
“But I don’t want it to end.”
“Well, you ended it when you cheated on me.”
He stared at you for a moment before continuing. “But… I want you, she didn’t mean anything to me." He approached you again, his hope growing a little when you didn’t stop him. He put a strand of hair behind your ear, softly brushing your cheek. “I know I fucked up but I can’t go on without you, I just can't.”
“Well you have, countless times while I was left in the dark wondering if I had done something wrong, crying myself to sleep when I couldn’t get a hold of you, Lando, and in the meantime you were with her.”
“I’m sorry-”
“And you have the nerve to say all that shit to me, acting like I was suffocating you when in reality I was trying to save us!” You pushed him away.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Y/N, I’m sorry, please let’s talk about it.”
“Fine, let’s talk about it. Was she worth it?” He shook his head, ready to leave his pride behind as he kneeled in front of you and grabbed one of your hands. “What are you doing? Stop.”
“I promise it was an accident, it won’t happen again.”
“An accident? Lando, are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Please, don’t let me go." The grip on your hand tightened, pulling you closer to him.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“No. I don’t want anyone else, I want you, Y/N”
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“But everything I said... I meant it, I love you Y/N and every second we’ve been together has meant everything to me. Baby, you have to understand.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying, you know I’m not." You pushed his hand away, rolling your eyes when another tear rolled down his face. “I know I don’t deserve it but please... just one more chance and I can fix this.”
“Give you a chance? I gave you a chance when I believed your excuses, when I forgave you for cancelling every date we had planned, when I tried to understand why you locked me out, and when I almost forgave you for forgetting our anniversary, I gave you so many fucking chances!”
“But I swear it wasn’t like that, she meant nothing.”
“You’re unbelievable… god, what are you saying?”
“Just think about how great we are together,” he said, trying to hold your torso, but once again you stopped him.
“Lando, stop that.”
“We’re a great team, aren’t we? We understand each other so well, we know each other better than anyone else, god, I’ll do anything, I swear.”
“No, it’s not gonna work.”
“Yes it will, and I’ll make sure of that.”
“No.” You were having a hard time blocking out how much love you still had for him, but you weren’t forgiving him; there was no way.
“I swear I don’t want anyone else." He held your hands and started kissing them, his lips giving you a sense of home that you missed. "Y/N, please, I love you.”
You nodded weakly as you started crying again.
“You know I love you and I would do anything for you." He continued kissing you, a few tears falling on your hands. “Do you still love me?”
“I love you... Lan-” You released one of your hands from his grip, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face.
“See? It will work, we will make it work." You shook your head; you were feeling stupid for almost falling for that. "Baby, look at me, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”
A moment of silence fell into the room as you collected your thoughts again, and he just looked at you hopeful that he could get you back. “Who is she?” You dared to repeat the question as you looked at him again.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally answered. "Annie.”
Annie, your flatmate Annie. She had never met Lando before you, and she wasn’t interested in who he was when you first told her you started dating him, so you were the reason they knew each other for all those times he picked you up from your place, and even then you never considered them to be friends; they barely exchanged any words when they ran into each other. You felt betrayed on a whole new level, not only by Lando but by her too. You had lived with her for so long, literally since the day you moved to Monaco, so you thought of her as one of your closest friends; how could she do that? And these past weeks, when she had been mourning your relationship with Lando, she was there the whole time, and she knew exactly what was happening.
“How long?”
You were getting annoyed at how long it was taking him to answer your simple questions. “The day we went to meet my parents... I drove to your apartment to pick you up, but you weren’t there yet.”
“So you did it at my place?” It wasn’t really a question, and you felt even more disgusted at the thought of them in your own home.
“It was one moment of weakness.”
“One moment of weakness?” He nodded, his hands now holding on to your hips. “But it didn't stop there, did it?”
“I’m sorry.”
You swiped the tears away as you prepared to ask the question you had been asking yourself for weeks. “What does she give you that I can't?”
Lando shook his head quickly. “Nothing, you’re everything I could ever ask for.”
“Then why did you do that?”
He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t really know how it happened or why it kept going, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying it before he got caught. “I don’t know." He whispered.
“Do you love her?”
“No, of course not. I love you." He was holding you tighter, convinced that if he held you long enough, you would want to stay.
“Oh my god, I’m so stupid.”
“You know it didn’t mean anything, it was a mistake-”
“Get your hands off me, I’m leaving,” you said as you tried to free yourself.
“Baby, please don’t leave, you have to hear me out.”
“Lando, let go. I don’t wanna be here." Your words struggled to come out from how much you were crying.
“Please don’t, I don’t wanna let you go." He looked up at you, his eyes begging for forgiveness. “Let’s just talk about it, yeah? Let me explain.”
“Save it, Lando, it’s over.”
“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. This is obviously my fault, so I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay, just please, one more chance is all I’m asking for.” You finally freed yourself, and your only goal was to go back to your apartment and cry all your pain away. You turned around and headed to the door; his hand tried to come to stop you, but you flinched away. You couldn’t bear to hear another word from him. "Baby, please, I love you.”
You turned around to face him one last time, spotting Lando still on his knees in the middle of his living room. “So you’ve said, but how can you hurt someone you claim to love so much?” He was about to say something, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “There’s nothing you can do to get me to stay, you threw everything away.”
“I know, my love, but-”
“I’m gonna leave and you’re gonna stay here, just… leave me alone, I don’t ever wanna see you again.”
You exited the room, leaving Lando alone and a complete mess. He regretted what he did, and he wanted to think that if you would just give him a chance to explain himself, you’d forgive him. But he knew that would never be the case and that his mistake was bigger than any apology; you were right to leave him.
He stared at the door for too long, taking in every emotion he was feeling: remorse, anger, pain, agony... he just felt like life was being sucked out of his body because he ruined the most important part of it, and there’s no one to blame but himself.
#lando norris#ln4#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris angst#lando norris x y/n#lando norris oneshot#lando norris smut#lando norris one shot#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#giannaln4 writes
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can we please get a latina!actress and drew imagine where of how they got together or meeting his family??? I LOVED the first one sm!
meeting the fam
drew starkey x latina actress reader!
the parents
Drew’s parents were in Charleston for the weekend, visiting him at the set of the show for the last few shooting days before wrapping season one.
They had kindly invited you all out to dinner to finally meet Drew’s friends.
He was so excited you were finally meeting part of his family.
Everyone who knew Drew knew how much he loved and cared for them.
So getting to finally meet them was exciting and nerve wracking at the same time.
Madelyn, Chase, Rudy, Madison, JD, Austin and you had finally arrived at the restaurant, where Drew and his parents were already waiting for you all in a table near the back of the place.
A little Italian restaurant in downtown Charleston.
Was there a more perfect place than that?
The moment his parents saw you all approaching, they stood up embracing you all in tight hugs and lovely greetings, Drew standing on the side smiling widely.
You walked to his mom as you offered her a big smile.
“Hi, I’m…” you said looking at her excitedly.
She made a happy high pitch sound as she looked at you, pulling you in for a hug.
“You must be y/n!” she said giving you the biggest bear hug. “Oh my God, you’re so much beautiful in person” she said as she pulled back to look at you with bright eyes.
You blushed at her comment.
“You’re too nice…” you paused with a smile, not sure if you should address her by her name or if that would be too impersonal.
She smiles as she gives your arms a little warm squeeze.
“You can call me Jodi dear” she smiles at you as she hugs you one more time before letting you go.
You move on to greet his dad, Todd, introducing yourself as well, making little small talk as you all settle yourselves on the table ready to order.
The night goes on smoothly, filled with laughs and anecdotes of baby Drew, courtesy of his lovely parents.
You were all having too much fun hearing his embarrassing baby stories and juicy teenage drama.
As the dinner went on with chatter, pasta and wine, you couldn’t help but smile at how happy and at ease Drew looked around his parents.
It made your heart warm.
Before you all left after having spent a wonderful night together, you approached his parents to wish them a good night.
“It was lovely meeting you two” you say smiling up at them. “I had so much fun, and now I know where Drew got his sense of humor”.
Todd laughs at your comment as Jodi hugs you.
“It was so nice meeting you too dear” she says as she leans back smiling at you. “We hope you can visit us back home soon, you’re welcome anytime” she looks at you and then at the rest of your friends. “You’re all welcome”.
You blush at her words, feeling their love and affection.
“Thank you so much” you say smiling at her. “You’re more than welcome at home back in Mexico whenever you want” you smile sweetly at them as you eye Drew smirking from behind them.
Jodi hugs you one last time before letting you go.
“We might take you up on that offer” she says laughing looking at Todd.
Everyone bids their goodbyes before Drew approaches you as you all walk out of the restaurant.
“Your parents are amazing” You say as you give him a smile.
She shrugs cockily as he looks at you.
“What can I say?” He says smirking at you. “They did raise a pretty cool kid”.
You laugh at him as you hit him playfully.
“A pretty humble one” you say sarcastically with a smile.
He laughs softly, throwing his head back and looking at you again.
“They really loved you” he says, looking attentively at you. “All of you” he lets out, his gaze never leaving yours.
You blush at his words.
The night had gone as perfect as you’d imagined.
the siblings
This was not how you imagined your morning starting.
The night before had been quite successful, if you could call it that.
Madelyn and Drew had invited you all over to their place, for a typical drinking night at their place.
So you all had gathered there to drink and chat, as usual.
But things might have gone a bit overboard than usual.
You had a few free days from filming, so you all took that and rolled with it, not caring about anything besides having fun all together.
And that’s how, that morning, you woke up with a headache and no phone at your place.
You had no idea how you had gotten to your apartment and tucked yourself in bed. You tried to remember but your mind was hazy and blurry.
And as you tried to find your phone, it was nowhere to be seen.
That’s how you ended up going down in the elevator to Maddie’s and Drew’s floor.
You prayed your phone was somewhere in their place, cause if not, you’d be cooked.
On your way down, you cringed as you caught the reflection of yourself in the elevator mirror. This was not your best look.
Your hair was messy tied in a low bun, and you were wearing a big oversized t-shirt with the obx logo, and underneath, some very small sleeping shorts that were invisible under your big tee and sleepers.
Yeah, you were not beating the hungover allegations.
As the doors of the elevator opened, you walked to their apartment as you knocked on their door.
You closed your eyes as your head throbbed a little, you just wanted to find your phone, and go back up to your place to drink a gallon of water and maybe take some aspirin.
And then you thought, where they still hungover and asleep? You hadn’t even taken a second to wonder that maybe you would be waking them up.
In all honesty, you didn’t even know what time it was.
But just then, you heard footsteps coming from inside the apartment and the door being opened.
Revealing a man with an unknown but familiar face at the same time.
Were you at the wrong floor?
This was too much for you and your brain in this state.
You squinted your eyes a little as you looked at the man in front of you. You looked from him to the apartment number, wondering if you had messed up. As you opened your mouth to speak his eyes narrowed as he looked at you.
“Can I help…” his eyes went from squinting to surprised. “You’re y/n!” he said smiling at you, looking happy and surprised. “I’m Logan, Drew’s brother.
You blink while looking at him.
He was Drew’s brother.
Now you remember. He had said his siblings were coming to stay with him for a few days to spend the break with him.
Oh dear God. You had totally forgotten.
And now you were standing in the door, in front one of his siblings, in pijamas and hungover.
Worst first impression ever.
“Oh my god, hi!” You say, accidentally sounding a bit too excited than you intended. “It’s so nice to meet you” you smile, clearing your throat, feeling too embarrassed to think of something else to say.
He laughs softly at you, and before you can say anything else, another voice from behind echoes.
“Logan, who’s that?” A girl with brow hair pops up from behind him while looking at you.
You wished the earth could swallow you whole.
“Hi, I’m y/n” you say smiling anxiously at her.
Your appearance definitely was not giving you any confidence at the moment.
“Oh my God” she says smiling at you while shoving his brother aside. “You’re the y/n!” she says excitedly while approaching you. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long” she finishes as she pulls you for a hug. “I’m Brooke”.
The only thing you could do was return the hug while laughing nervously.
“Come in, we’re making breakfast” Logan says as he invites you in, closing the door behind you.
You really didn’t wanna be there in that moment.
Like, it was lovely meeting them, they seemed like the sweetest persons ever, but, you were feeling sticky, nauseous and embarrassed that they had to meet you like this.
Just your luck.
“Oh thank you so much, but…” you were interrupted as a girl with blonde hair walked out the kitchen.
She paused her steps looking at you.
“Mackayla, you’re not gonna believe this, she’s y/n!” Brooke said to her sister, as she side hugged you.
You smile at her softly while waving at her.
Her eyes brighten while she smiles at you.
“Oh my God!” she says excitedly. “Drew didn’t tell us you were coming, we would’ve cooked something better than pancakes” she smiles at you.
God how you wished you could’ve showered before coming down.
“No, please don’t worry!” you say a little too fast, looking at them, causing them to eye you with a confused look. “I really don’t wanna interrupt your breakfast” you say smiling at them embarrassed.
This was the worst situation ever.
Or that’s what you thought.
Because as you finished talking, Drew came walking down the hall, shirtless, with only some sleeping shorts and a towel on his hand while he dried his hair.
“What are you guys bickering about?” he says walking to his siblings before he stops and notices you.
You look at him while giving him an awkward smile.
His eyes open a bit too much in surprise.
“Hi” you mumble out sheepishly. “I just came by to see if I had left my phone here” you say blushing a little at the attention. “Cannot find it anywhere” you say moving your hands, showing them how they’re empty.
God you were being pathetic.
Was this how animals at the zoo felt?
“Uh yeah yeah” he blinks at you. “I was gonna bring it up to you later” he says walking to the couch, picking it up and handing it to you.
You take it from him while sighing in relief.
“Thank you so much” you say as you hug your phone dramatically. “I was panicking” you say laughing while looking at his siblings.
They all looked between you and Drew smiling.
You cleared your throat.
“I should get going now” you say smiling softly at them. “It was really nice meeting you” you say, feeling way embarrassed as each second passed.
Mackayla shaked her head looking at you.
“Please stay, we’d love for you to join us!” she says smiling at you hopeful.
“I really don’t wanna impose” you say giving them a sheepish smile, before Brooke shrugs and shakes her head.
“None of that! Maddie will join us too” she smiles at you.
Drew lets out a chuckle.
“If she wakes up” he says laughing softly.
In that moment, Maddie walks out of her room towards the bathroom, stopping herself to give Drew a humorless look.
“I am wake” she says before hiding herself in the bathroom.
You all burst into soft laughter before you can feel all their eyes on you once again.
Your cheeks heat in embarrassment.
“Give me 5 minutes to shower and I’ll be down with a brand new box of cookies from home I have in my place” you say giving them a smile.
They all laugh while you’re already walking out the door.
“Deal!” Logan laughs as they all see the door close behind you.
You run up to you place, chugging an aspirin and getting into the shower to get yourself looking decent and to try and fix your first impression on Drew’s siblings.
Down at his place, they’re finishing setting the table and cooking breakfast.
“She’s cute” Mackayla says as she gives Drew a look.
He laughs softly under his breath looking at her suspiciously.
“Yeah, she can pull that hangover look, not everyone can, it’s hard” Logan lets out before Drew smacks him playfully in the head.
He groans while his sisters laugh at him.
“She seems funny too” Brooke says walking to them. “That’s a good quality to have you know” she lets out while looking at Drew.
He rolls his eyes at his siblings comments, trying to act nonchalant.
“Don’t be weird around her” he lets out, smiling at the memory of you at his apartment in your disheveled look.
How were you able to make the best impressions even having just woken up?
*
omggg I loved writing this request! thank you so much for sending it and liking my work, hope you love it<3
sorry for taking a bit to post it, I have been feeling a little off my game
please feel free to send in asks and requests if you wanna know anything about latina actress reader!
headcanons, blurbs, moodboards, social media posts, I’m open to anything!
#drew starkey#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx fic#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#obx imagine#obx x reader#obx#obx cast#obx3#obx season 4#obx4#fanfic#image#rafe cameron blurb
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“be honest,” seungcheol says, standing in the doorway of your bedroom with a familiarly sulky expression. “are you breaking up with me?”
the question should take you by surprise, but honestly, you’re more preoccupied with the fact that he’s wearing one of your necklaces, so you don’t really register his words.
instead, you’re spinning on your desk chair, looking up from your work and squinting at his collarbones. “is that my necklace? seungcheol, i’ve been looking for that everywhere!”
immediately, he tucks the gold chain under his t-shirt, pointing at you with an accusing finger. “see, this is how it starts! you’re drawing lines between us! what happened to what’s mine is yours?”
“you took your hoodie off me yesterday,” you retort immediately.
your boyfriend scrunches his nose. “you were wearing that for like, a week straight. i took it off you to wash it.”
now it’s your turn to sulk, your argument stumped. “well, you didn’t tell me that, seungcheol.”
he inhales sharply. “see, now, that’s twice you’ve called me seungcheol.”
“it’s your name!”
“just be honest. where are you hiding the divorce papers?”
“we’re not married!” you can’t decide whether to laugh or not. “i’m not breaking up with you. why would i do that?”
seungcheol gestures vaguely to his laptop in the corner of the room. “your spotify listening history is questionable, alright? you’ve listened to nothing but breakup songs for like, a week.”
you raise your eyebrows at him. “you mean the same week i spent hibernating in your hoodie?”
silence for a beat, before he breaks out into a sheepish smile. you spin your chair back to work as he speaks — “caught me. i just wanted to annoy you.”
“mission accomplished,” you snort, even as he slides his arms around you from behind, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder.
“you should take a break,” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. and another, further up, and another, right against your pulse.
“from what?” you laugh, teasing him lightly: “stalking people’s spotify history?”
he ignores you, but you can feel him rolling his eyes. “let’s eat something. or go somewhere. or both.”
you smile, relenting and leaning back against him. you know him so well. you especially know his subtle ways of getting you to take a break and come back down to earth, and it prompts you to turn your head and catch his lips with a sweet, chaste kiss. pulling apart a little too fast to agree, “yeah. yeah, both sounds good.”
an / it’s literally been like 2 months since i posted something omg. hi <3 sorry it’s very late and i should be asleep so i apologise if this is not coherent. as always not proofread or edited or anything
perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud
@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao
@smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee
@kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager
@qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng
@strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura
@iamawkwardandshy
@twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere @pearlesscentt
@sourkimchi @porridgesblog @ourkivee
#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol comfort#seungcheol x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#seventeen comfort#seventeen fanfic#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol angst#seungcheol fanfic#scoups fluff
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i don't believe in god, but i believe that you're my savior; my mom says that she's worried, but i'm covered in this favor; and when we're getting dirty, i forget all that is wrong───PAIGE BUECKERS
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | she was the kind of girl who lit up rooms and wrecked worlds in the same breath—a gravity too intense to resist. you’d sworn off falling, but the first time she laughed, smoke curling from her lips like an invitation to a wildfire, you were already in freefall. between stolen touches and reckless nights, you wonder if paige is your salvation or your undoing—or maybe a bit of both.
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | whoo, where do i begin? very angsty (but with a happy ending!), A LOT OF religious trauma, biblical allusions, descriptions of internalized homophobia, um... idk what else?
⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | okay i wanna preface this by saying... this is NOT a realistic reflection of paige because i know she is religious (i am too) but for the sake of this fic, it's just not a direct correlation. ANYWAY, i got this fic request a couple hours ago and this has been in my drafts for a while, and it's for sailor song so i decided just to mix the two. but fair warning; this is VERY self-indulgent, like super... but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless!
It started with her laugh.
Low, sharp, intoxicating—like she knew something you didn’t, and the knowing was half the fun. The sound carried through the room, brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth behind that didn’t quite fade.
You hadn’t meant to look. It was a casual glance, a passive observation of the crowd gathered in the dim light of some off-campus house party. But there she was, Paige, head tilted back, blonde hair loose and gleaming like spun gold in the chaos of flashing lights. Beautiful didn’t quite cover it. She was an image that felt ripped straight from a psalm—crafted by hands too divine to belong to this earth.
You told yourself to look away. But it was like trying to pull your gaze from the altar during a prayer; you knew better, but you stayed. Her presence burned, the kind of flame you’d always been taught to fear. And yet, the yearning rose in you like a hymn.
She held a vape pen in one hand, her other resting lazily against the kitchen counter. When she brought it to her lips and exhaled, the plume of smoke rose like incense, curling toward the low ceiling. It wasn’t just a casual gesture—it was deliberate, a communion, and you felt the weight of her gaze as she caught you staring. Her eyes—blue like stained glass on a Sunday morning—locked with yours, and in that instant, you swore she saw straight through you. Every doubt. Every prayer you’d whispered to keep yourself in line.
Your chest tightened. It felt less like a chance meeting and more like a test. A temptation. You wanted to pass. You wanted to fail.
Her smirk formed slowly, a deliberate curve of her lips that made your breath catch. She waved the pen in a lazy arc, motioning you over. Something inside you—rebellion, recklessness, or maybe just exhaustion—told you to move. So you did.
Every step toward her felt like crossing a line you’d drawn for yourself long ago. The room blurred, fading into irrelevance as you neared. She was all you could see, every detail sharper and brighter than it had any right to be. Her hoodie hung loose on her frame, the strings unevenly tugged. Her nails, painted the softest blush, tapped rhythmically against the counter.
“You always stare like that?” she asked, voice low but cutting through the din around you. Her tone was casual, but her eyes… they were anything but. They pinned you in place, unrelenting.
Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you fumbled for an answer. “No. I mean—sorry, I wasn’t—”
“Relax.” She leaned in, close enough that you could smell the faint mix of mint and something sweeter. “I don’t bite.” A pause, her grin widening. “Not unless you want me to.”
Your laugh came out shaky, a poor attempt at deflecting the rising tension in your chest. “Do you always talk like this?”
“Only when I’m interested.” The words landed heavy, like a confession in a darkened booth. Paige tilted her head, studying you. “What’s your name?”
You told her, and the way she repeated it back made it sound different—softer, like she was testing the weight of it in her mouth. She offered her hand, the gesture disarmingly formal. When your fingers touched, the spark was immediate, electric. You wondered if she felt it too.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, her grip firm but unhurried, like she had all the time in the world to unravel you.
You didn’t have all the time in the world. That was the problem. Years of sermons and Bible studies echoed in your mind like a chorus of warnings. Narrow is the road, straight is the gate, and you were barreling down the wide, crooked path without a second thought.
“So,” Paige said, pulling you back to the present, “you drink, or are you just here for the vibes?”
“I don’t drink.” The answer came automatic, instinctive, a remnant of the rules you hadn’t yet shaken off. Paige arched an eyebrow, intrigued but not mocking.
“Interesting.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping. “Guess I’ll have to figure out what your vice is.”
The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. You tried to speak, to say anything that would keep you grounded, but nothing came. All you could do was stand there, caught in the pull of her presence.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing her vape from the counter and motioning for you to follow her. “Let’s get out of here. It’s too loud.”
You hesitated, the weight of invisible judgment pressing against you. But then she smiled—soft, earnest, utterly disarming—and the resistance crumbled. It felt wrong, undeniably so. But it also felt like freedom.
So you followed.
The night air hit you like a baptism, cool and sobering after the crowded haze of the party. Paige walked ahead of you, her hands shoved into her hoodie pockets, her steps unhurried. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure you were still there, flashing you a smile that sent a shiver racing down your spine.
You kept a few paces behind, your mind a storm of contradictions. Everything about this felt dangerous, like stepping into a story you’d been warned against since you were a child. But there was something magnetic about her, something that made you ignore the small, insistent voice in the back of your head telling you to turn back. She moved like she owned the night, and for a moment, you wondered if maybe she did.
“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice a little too high, a little too thin.
“Someplace quiet,” she said, not turning around. “Don’t worry, I’m not a serial killer.”
“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.”
She laughed, and it was soft this time, less sharp-edged than before. “Fair point. But I think you’re safe with me. Trust me?”
You didn’t answer, but the fact that you kept walking was its own reply. Paige led you down a winding street lined with trees, the leaves whispering in the breeze like they were in on some divine secret. You felt like a lamb being led away from the flock, the shepherd nowhere in sight. But instead of fear, all you felt was the thrill of it—the breaking of the rules, the stepping out of bounds.
Eventually, she stopped in front of a small park, deserted except for a few streetlights casting pale pools of light over the benches. She sat on one of them, her legs sprawled out casually, and gestured for you to join her.
You hesitated for a fraction of a second before sitting, careful to leave a polite amount of space between you. Paige noticed and smirked, shifting slightly so your knees almost touched. The proximity made your pulse quicken.
“Relax,” she said, pulling the vape pen out of her pocket and twirling it between her fingers. “I don’t bite, remember?”
You tried to smile, but it felt stiff, unnatural. “Not unless I want you to, right?”
Paige’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Exactly. You’re catching on.” She brought the vape to her lips, taking a long drag before exhaling. The smoke curled lazily in the air, illuminated by the glow of the streetlight. She tilted her head, studying you. “So, what’s your deal?”
“My deal?”
“Yeah. You’re giving off… I don’t know. Saintly vibes.” Her tone was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity in her eyes. “Like you stepped out of some Catholic school choir.”
You stiffened, the words hitting closer to home than she could’ve known. “I… grew up religious.”
Paige raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Religious, huh? Like, church every Sunday, Bible verses on the fridge, all that?”
You nodded, a tightness creeping into your chest. “Pretty much.”
She leaned back, her expression unreadable. “And now?”
You hesitated. It wasn’t a question you liked answering, mostly because you didn’t know the answer yourself. “Now… I don’t know. I guess I’m figuring it out.”
Paige nodded slowly, her gaze softening. “That’s fair. Takes time to unlearn all that, right?”
The word unlearn felt heavy, like it carried a weight you weren’t ready to unpack. You looked down at your hands, suddenly unsure of what to do with them. “Something like that.”
For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. Then Paige spoke, her voice quieter this time. “You know, I used to go to church too.”
Your head snapped up, surprise flickering across your face. “You did?”
She nodded, exhaling another plume of smoke. “Yeah. My grandma made me go. Every Sunday, no exceptions. I hated it back then. All the rules, all the guilt… it was suffocating.” She paused, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “But now, I don’t know. Sometimes I miss it.”
“Miss it?” The idea seemed foreign, almost impossible. “Why?”
Paige shrugged. “I guess… it was nice, believing in something bigger than yourself. Feeling like someone up there gave a damn about you.” She looked at you, her eyes searching. “You ever feel like that?”
You wanted to say no, wanted to deny it outright. But the truth was, you had felt that once. Before the doubts, before the questions, before the endless weight of trying to reconcile who you were with who you were supposed to be. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “I don’t know.”
Paige nodded, as if she understood. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty damn interesting. Religious trauma and all.” She grinned, her teasing tone returning. “Maybe I’ll save you.”
The words hung in the air, light and joking, but they hit you harder than you cared to admit. You looked at her, the girl who seemed to embody everything you’d been taught to fear, and wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was right.
And that’s how this whole thing began—the beginning of the end.
It wasn’t a relationship, not exactly. It wasn’t even a proper friendship. You weren’t sure what to call it. Some blurry, undefined space where your worlds collided—recklessly, beautifully, disastrously. Paige would text you late at night, a simple you up? and before you even had time to think, you’d find yourself in her orbit again. Her dorm, a parked car, that same park bench. The locations changed, but the pattern didn’t.
She kissed like she had something to prove, like she knew exactly what you wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. And God, did you let her take it. Every time. Every brush of her lips, every tug at the edges of your carefully constructed world, it left you breathless. Empty. Full. You couldn’t tell anymore.
You told yourself it was just physical—nothing more than a release. But that was a lie, and you both knew it. Especially when she’d pull away and rest her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your cheek, her voice soft in the stillness.
“You okay?” she’d ask, her tone full of something that felt too much like care.
You’d nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Fine. That was another lie. You weren’t fine. You were far from it. Every time you left her, slipping back into the quiet safety of your own bed, you could feel the guilt clawing at your chest like a living thing. It whispered in your ear, cruel and relentless, reminding you of every rule you were breaking, every promise you were shattering.
But the worst part? You reveled in it. There was a twisted kind of freedom in the guilt, like stepping into a storm and letting it drench you. It was messy and terrifying and so far removed from the pristine, polished version of yourself you’d been raised to be. With Paige, you weren’t the good girl anymore. You weren’t the dutiful daughter or the pious believer. You were raw, unfiltered, unapologetically human. And you hated how much you loved it.
┈┈┈
One night, after another one of those late-night texts, you found yourself sprawled on Paige’s bed, your head resting against her chest as her fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm. The room smelled faintly of her lavender laundry detergent and the minty vape she always carried. It should’ve been calming, but it wasn’t. Not tonight.
“You’re quiet,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek. “Nothing. Just tired.”
“Liar.” Her fingers paused, and she tilted her head to look at you. “You’ve got that look again.”
“What look?”
“That I’m feeling guilty as hell but too stubborn to admit it look.”
Her words hit too close to home, and you shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She sighed, her hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was too tender, too intimate. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
You closed your eyes, the weight of her gaze almost too much to bear. “I don’t think you’d understand.”
“Try me.”
The room felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. You didn’t want to say it, but the truth was clawing its way out, demanding to be heard. “I just… I can’t stop feeling like this is wrong. Like I’m wrong.”
Paige stiffened beneath you, the softness in her expression giving way to something sharper. “Wrong? What does that even mean?”
You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest. “It means this. Us. Everything. It’s not… it’s not what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“Says who?” Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it now, a defensiveness you’d never heard before.
You looked at her, your throat tightening. “Everyone. My parents. My pastor. God.”
The word hung between you like a curse, and Paige let out a bitter laugh, sitting up as well. “God? Really? You think God’s sitting up there, keeping score of who you kiss?”
“It’s not just that,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s everything. The lying, the sneaking around, the… the way I feel about you. It’s too much.”
Paige’s jaw tightened, but instead of the defensiveness you expected, she exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing. “Look, I might not be the most religious,” she began, her voice steady but gentle, “but I don’t think God’s sitting up there keeping some cosmic tally of who you kiss or how you feel. That’s not love. That’s control.”
Her words made you flinch, and she reached out, her hand brushing yours lightly before pulling back. “You grew up being told He’s this all-powerful, all-knowing being, right? So, if He’s that big, that perfect, then don’t you think He’s got room for you, too? For… this?” She gestured between the two of you, her voice softening. “I mean, if God is love, doesn’t that include the kind you feel for me?”
Your throat tightened, and you felt the tears coming before you could stop them. Paige saw, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she leaned in, her voice dropping even lower, like she was sharing a secret just for you. “You’re not broken. You’re not wrong. And you sure as hell don’t need saving. Not from me. Not from anyone.”
For a fleeting moment, the knot in your chest loosened. Paige’s words were like a salve, soothing the ache you’d carried for so long. She made it sound so simple—love as something pure and whole, untainted by judgment or shame. You wanted to believe her. God, you wanted to.
And for a moment, you did. You let yourself lean into her warmth, let yourself imagine a version of this where you could breathe freely, unburdened by guilt. But it didn’t last. The weight of your upbringing—the sermons, the warnings, the whispered prayers for deliverance—settled back over you like a heavy cloak.
“Maybe you’re right,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “Maybe God doesn’t care. But I do.”
Paige frowned, her brows furrowing. “Why?”
“Because it’s not just about Him,” you said, your hands clutching your knees tightly. “It’s about everything. My parents. My community. The person I’ve spent my whole life trying to be.”
Her face softened, and she reached for your hand again, her grip firm and grounding. “But what about the person you are? The one sitting right here, right now?”
You couldn’t answer. Or maybe you didn’t want to. The truth felt too raw, too messy to say out loud.
Paige sighed, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Look, I get that this is complicated for you. But you deserve to love and be loved without feeling like you’re doing something wrong. And if no one’s ever told you that before, then I’m telling you now.”
Her words lingered, wrapping around you like a safety net. You wanted to fall into it, to let her catch you. But the ground beneath you still felt too shaky, too uncertain.
So you stayed quiet, letting her hold your hand while the silence stretched between you. It wasn’t resolution, but it was something. And for now, that was all you could handle.
Over the weeks that followed, something began to shift. Paige didn’t press you, didn’t demand answers you weren’t ready to give. Instead, she stayed patient, like she understood the weight you carried better than anyone ever had. She didn’t push you to talk about your guilt, but she made space for you when you did. Slowly, you began to let her in.
It started small. A whispered confession in the quiet of her dorm. A memory shared over takeout cartons and late-night reruns of shows you’d never admit to liking. The walls you’d spent years building began to crumble, piece by piece, under her steady gaze and unflinching kindness.
One night, as you lay sprawled on her couch, the conversation wandered back to the topic you’d both been skirting around for days.
“Do you ever think about leaving it all behind?” Paige asked, her voice soft but curious.
“Leaving what behind?”
She tilted her head toward you. “The guilt. The rules. The version of yourself you’re so scared to let go of.”
You didn’t answer right away. You traced the pattern of the couch cushion beneath your fingers, searching for words that wouldn’t come. Finally, you sighed. “It’s not that simple.”
“I know,” she said. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be as complicated as you think.”
The conversation stuck with you. Paige didn’t have all the answers, but she had a way of making you feel like you could find them yourself. She challenged you to ask questions you’d spent years avoiding, to rethink the parts of your faith that had been weaponized against you.
“I don’t think you have to throw it all away,” she said one night, her voice careful, deliberate. “Your faith, I mean. Maybe it just needs to look different. More… you. I never left that religious part of my life, I just... made it more me.”
You didn’t know what that meant yet, but the idea of redefining your faith—of making it your own—felt like a spark in the darkness.
For the first time in years, you began to feel something that resembled peace. There were moments, fleeting but powerful, where you allowed yourself to be happy without questioning if you deserved it. Moments when Paige’s laugh lit up a room, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. Moments when she kissed you, and the world went quiet, and the only thing that mattered was her hands in your hair and her breath against your skin.
It wasn’t perfect. The guilt didn’t disappear overnight. It still crept in, especially when you were alone, whispering that you were wrong, broken, sinful. But it didn’t consume you the way it used to.
Because now, there was something stronger than the guilt. There was Paige. And there was you. The version of you she saw—the one who deserved love, who could rewrite the rules, who didn’t have to apologize for existing.
And maybe, just maybe, that version of you was worth believing in.
Falling in love with Paige wasn’t a dramatic, earth-shattering event. It wasn’t fireworks or grand declarations or sudden epiphanies. It was quieter than that, gentler. Like the tide rolling in, it happened so naturally, so effortlessly, that you didn’t even realize it was happening until you were already submerged.
It was in the small things—the way she’d instinctively hold your hand during a scary part of a movie, her thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin. The way she always knew when you needed space and when you needed her closer, as if she could read the thoughts you couldn’t put into words. The way she’d say your name, softly, like it was her favorite word.
You started noticing how her laugh could fill a room, making even the dullest moments feel alive. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved—basketball, her dog back home, or the time she convinced her whole team to wear matching Crocs. Paige had this way of making the ordinary extraordinary, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to her.
She never tried to fix you, never made you feel like you were some puzzle that needed solving. She just saw you—the real you, the messy, complicated, guilt-ridden you—and loved you anyway.
Paige’s love wasn’t flashy or conditional or based on expectations. It was steady, like a heartbeat, a rhythm you could count on even when everything else felt uncertain.
It wasn’t in the grand gestures but in the little moments. Like when she brought you coffee the exact way you liked it, without asking. Or when she remembered the names of the books you’d mentioned in passing and bought you one “just because.” It was in the way she’d text you random memes during the day, just to make you laugh, and the way she’d listen—really listen—when you spoke about your fears, your dreams, your past.
One night, you found yourself lying beside her, the room lit only by the faint glow of her bedside lamp. She was doodling something on your arm with her finger, her touch light and absentminded.
“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft.
“Drawing stars,” she said with a grin. “Because you’re my universe.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. “That’s so cheesy.”
“Yeah, but it made you smile,” she shot back, her voice full of playful confidence.
And it did. She always did.
As you lay there, her head resting against your shoulder, you realized that this—she—made you feel complete in a way you hadn’t even known was possible. Paige loved you in a way that felt so simple, so natural, that it made you question everything you’d ever believed about love.
You used to think you were hard to love. That you came with too much baggage, too many rules, too much you. But with Paige, there was no effort, no hesitation. She loved you like it was breathing, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
And for the first time, you began to wonder if maybe she was right. If maybe love didn’t have to be hard or painful or earned. If maybe, just maybe, it could be as simple as this.
Over time, the love between you grew, not in explosive leaps but in quiet, steady steps. It wasn’t just the way she kissed you or held your hand. It was in the way she made you laugh until your sides hurt, the way she celebrated your victories, big or small, like they were her own. It was in the way she never gave up on you, even when you struggled to believe in yourself.
It wasn’t perfect. You weren’t perfect. But Paige made you feel like you didn’t have to be. She made you feel whole, even in the moments when you felt broken.
And as you fell deeper into this love—this easy, unconditional love—you began to realize something else. You weren’t just falling in love with her. You were starting to fall in love with yourself, too.
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You can't breathe.
Your mouth burns.
Your body won't stop shaking.
You can barely see through the tears in your eyes (when did you start crying?)
You're on the floor, in the kitchen.
You look over, Katsuki is next to you, hunched over himself so you can't see his face, his shoulders shaking violently.
He stills, and looks up slowly to meet your blurry vision.
You both pause, and for a moment you know nothing but the crimson of his eyes, still bright and piercing.
Then you cough, a mistake because you immediately feel the burn of spice going down your throat sending you into a coughing fit and bringing more tears to your eyes.
It makes him break into hoarse laughter and watching him makes you laugh brokenly through your coughing with him.
The empty packs of Extra Spicy Curry Masala Maggi noodles lay abandoned between you on the floor after your competition of who could eat the most spicy noodles.
You think all the spice may have had some sort of effect on your brain chemistry the way you and Katsuki couldn't stop the breathy laughs from escaping even in such a pathetic state.
You're not exactly complaining, it's not often you get to see him look so content and carefree. It fills you with a sense of self-satisfaction that he feels comfortable enough around you to lose the ginormous stick up his ass personality he generally keeps up around most people.
You know you're also laughing way to hard right now, but you've also made a mess on the floor and Katsuki in between cackles comes to your side to help wipe up the sauce that was spilled from your poor attempts at wielding chopsticks.
"It's ok, you can admit I won now."
Katsuki tells you with a smug grin.
You look at him incredulously.
"What are you talking about, this was obviously a tie, — both of us finished the same amount of noodles" you correct.
"Yea but obviously, I'm handling it way better than you are, nerd." He objected with an appraising look at the heaving breaths you took and your flushed nose from rubbing it so much.
You snicker a little because for all his talk, he's honestly not faring much better, with his cheeks all flushed and the constant sniffing.
You reach out and gently wipe a bit of sauce staining the corner of his mouth. He playfully sticks his tongue out and licks your thumb before you have a chance to retreat, laughing when you gasp scandalously and smiling boyishly at you in a way that makes your heart feel like it's filling with soda bubbles.
He uses the moment to really take in your appearance.
Your lips are swollen and a dark red from all the spice.
Eyes shiny from the tears and sparkling under the dim kitchen lights.
You're grinning a little too wide in a way that would absolutely make yourself cringe if you could see yourself.
And Katsuki really thinks you've never looked prettier in his life.
In some sort of fit, he suddenly reaches forwards and tangles his fingers into your hair and pulls your towards him.
the burn of his mouth on yours is almost more potent than the still lingering taste of the spicy noodles on your tongue.
You make a quiet noise of surprise and brace yourself with a hand on his thigh and on the cabinet next to you.
He pulls away just enough to watch you, your chests heaving, the brief kiss more than enough to steal the breath from both your lungs.
Once again that familiar scarlet consumed all your attention and you couldn't help but fall into him as he pulls you closer.
You meet him half way this time and you shiver when he groans into your mouth.
He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips and you can taste the way he feels and the way he licks into you has you reeling.
You're still a little lightheaded from the laughing and the spice and it's too much for you to stop your body from trembling when he holds you.
The realization crosses your mind, that you're sitting on the floor of your kitchen, making out with one of your closest friends, and you wonder when the line between friendship and something more had started to blur because it obviously had if you're in the position you're in now.
This time you pull away, a little embarrassed that your first kiss with Katsuki was when you tasted like Extra Spicy Masala Maggi noodles, but in a way it was perfect and you knew you were never going to be able to forget it.
Still, you can't look at him, turning your face to the side and closing your eyes when he dips his head low to catch your gaze.
He snickers lowly at your reaction and that only heightens your embarrassment, feeling the tips of your ears go hot.
You feel his lips meet your cheek, not gently at all, smushing up into your face with aggressive affection.
"Now will you admit I win?"
Masterlist
#don't look at me i wrote this in like an hour for the first time after like a year#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugou x gender neutral reader#mha#bnha#mha fanfiction#coffee's fics#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugo x reader
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Can I Please be Your Friend?
Billy doesn’t have friends. Between being Marvel and working odd jobs, he hasn’t really had the time some. So when he got invited to join the newly formed Justice League. He was ecstatic! Sure, these people were at least a very minimum of 20 years older than him and sure they would probably talk about taxes and stuff, but superhero friends! Meanwhile, the Justice League is like, “wow this guy is so social. I like it!”
Marvel: “You have a lighthouse…?” *sounds so amazed*
Aquaman: “Yeah. My dad was a lighthouse keeper so I got it when he passed.”
Marvel: “That’s so awesome! Can I come over?”
Aquaman: “Oh, okay? Sure?” *a little surprised he asked but eh whatever*
That was how Arthur spent the day showing Cap around the lighthouse. The man was a really good listener and was surprisingly very interested in listening to Arthur talk about how to use the light. You couldn’t even ask Arthur how they both ended up jumping off the railings of the lighthouse of dive into the water. You also couldn’t ask him how they ended up having a water fight, with the Atlantean calling for some sea creatures as back up. You also also couldn’t ask him how shocked a hotdog vendor was when he saw Captain Marvel and Aquaman, both of which who are supposed to be revered heroes, soaked, looking like wet dogs, asking for a couple of hotdogs after they nearly caused a tidal wave.
They got scolded by Batman a little while later for acting like children and almost causing the previously mentioned tidal wave. It was a little funny to see Batman scolding a man a solid two feet taller than him.
Soon after that whole incident, Marvel went to befriend Martian Manhunter next.
Marvel: *staring at J’onn while holding a box of cookies*
MM: *can hear him thinking about how to approach him and looks over to Marvel*
Marvel: *thinks a little too loudly and J’onn hears a nearly deafening “FRIEND”*
MM: *flinches and clutches his head* “Captain. Is something the matter.”
Marvel: “Oh uh…” *walks over and looks between the cookies and J’onn* “I was uh- wondering if you wanted to eat these with me.”
And that’s how J’onn spent the rest of the afternoon eating cookies with Marvel. J’onn had at first thought Marvel was quiet because he was something humans called awkward. But no, every now and then, when J’onn forgot that humans preferred to keep their thoughts private, he’d hear how happy Marvel was that he accepted. He’d also heard a couple other voices which was slightly concerning. He didn’t know if that was normal for humans or not.
Then, the next was Batman. Bruce honestly didn’t even know how they had started talking about this. All he knows is that they were talking about the team’s performance in the field, then that somehow transitioned into talking about superheroes in general, which then somehow led to fictional superheroes, which led to now:
Marvel: “Oh, you like Gray Ghost?”
Batman: “I was… a fan of him when I was a child.” *doesn’t know why he’s telling Marvel this*
Marvel: “Cool! Did you see the movies?”
From there on was a forty minute yapping session about Gray Ghost, his lore, the movies, the comics, the action figures, and so on.
Marvel: “I even had his comics as a kid too.”
Batman: “Really? Reprints or originals?”
Marvel: “I wanna say originals? What do you mean by reprints though?”
Batman: “Reprinting is when they take a comic, and remake it to look a little better, such as brighter colors or slightly tweaked dialogue, so they can sell it again.”
Marvel: “Oh. Then I’d say I probably have originals then.”
Batman: “Interesting. Those are collectors items now. They go for thousands.”
Marvel; “Really?!” *eyes nearly bug out of his skull* “Huh. I had no idea. Which ones did you have?”
Batman: “Mostly reprints. But I do have a couple originals on display.”
So yeah. The two were geeking out and stuff. Bruce honestly has literally no one to talk about this with so he’ll admit he was a little (a lot) happy.
We can’t forget the other JL heroes though.
Flash: “Like, he is so nice, and for what?”
GL: “I know right he let me ramble for like 45 minutes about planes! He was asking questions too!”
Supes: “And he’s always willing to help with anything. I didn’t even get to finish asking if he could cover my monitor shifts before he said yes.” *sounds slightly guiltily (he still feels bad for asking)*
In conclusion, Billy really wants to be friends with these guys, and his methods are definitely working.
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett#fawcett comics#batman#aquaman#arthur curry#bruce wayne#martian manhunter#j’onn j’onzz
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I started college in 1995, when email was still a relatively novel and arcane magic. There was a search engine called DogPile that worked better than Yahoo at finding what I actually wanted. Netscape Navigator was SO much better than Internet Explorer. (Granted, not a high bar to leap, but still...) I had a Pentium II computer that didn't come with so much as an Ethernet jack--you had to buy and install an Ethernet PCI card if you wanted to be able to check your email from your dorm room. Amazon was a wonder--an online bookstore with every author and genre you loved right there to ship to you in days! I posted my first few fanfics on message boards that are now defunct.
So yeah, I'm more than three times AO3's age. The facts about fanfic haven't changed, though.
ao3 turns 15 today
reblog if youre older than ao3
(there's a lot of people asking about this, but the legal age to use social media is 13, except in few countries. so yes, there are people here under 15)
#Mun on fanfic#AO3 is a whippersnapper#AO3#remembering the pre-Internet world#how did we ever survive
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