#just something I wrote down in my notes the other day
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David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:
"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."
"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."
"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"
[source thread]
User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]
User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]
#dragon age#bioware#fenris#the fenaissance#video games#long post#longpost#cole#spirit boy#solas#dragon age 5
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[songs for women] anton x reader | 0.6k words drabble, musician!anton, best friends to ???, childhood friends au, implied college au, mutual pining note. a short lil thing i found from a few months ago in my drafts <3 wrote it for the beginning of fall. may turn this into a full length fic but i wanted to put this out for now bc i really like it.
now playing: songs for women by frank ocean
"don't even listen to the songs i record, but she be bangin' that drake in my car ... all damn day long, it's like she never heard of me, heard of me."
turning his key in the ignition, anton hears his car engine thrum as it comes alive. the fall air is warm and balmy and you’re sitting in the passenger seat, head propped on your hand as you gaze out the window.
“wanna roll it down?” anton’s soft voice coaxes you back to reality and you turn to look at him with a grin on your face, nodding excitedly. he smiles softly as he watches you turn the handle and let the fresh air into anton’s old four door sedan.
plugging the aux cord into the his phone, anton bumps your shoulder, handing you the glowing screen.
you gingerly take the phone out of his hands, fingers typing away in the search bar of his spotify app to queue a song.
turning towards the road, anton finally eases his foot onto the pedal, and the car’s wheels squeal slightly as he turns out of his driveway into the neighborhood’s winding roads.
the citrus colored leaves bring a fond smile to his face, and the breeze from your open window tickles his face and ruffles his hair.
old memories play through anton’s mind, flashes of long bike rides and pool days with you. you’re weaved into all of the moments he holds close to his heart, and he thinks it’ll always feel this way.
anton doesn’t think the jumps and twists in his stomach when he’s around you will ever fade. not when you smile so brightly at him, or laugh so prettily at his dumb jokes.
the two of you aren’t kids anymore, you’ve outgrown your bicycle helmets and kiddie pools. anton is an upcoming singer and you’re about to graduate college. but somehow whenever you end up in your hometown again, it’s like you’re teenagers again. you spend hours in the old coffee shop that was your favorite studying spot for finals, and you go to the same drive in ice cream parlor.
the song that you handpicked floods anton’s ears as his hand glides across the steering wheel. with a sigh and roll of his eyes, he looks over at you.
“park wonbin again? seriously?” you laugh at his dismay, fingers turning the dial to increase the volume. anton groans in response, his adam’s apple moving under the skin of his neck. your eyes catch it for a second, brain forming an unusually erotic thought at the sight. you’re brought back to earth by the sound of anton’s voice again.
“i’m starting to think you don’t listen to anything else.” tucking some hair behind your eyes, you grin at your best friend.
“what else do i need besides wonbin?”
“you know, other people would kill to be driven around by me, and you refuse to even listen to my songs.” it’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you do so with another cheerful laugh.
“someone’s gotta keep you humble.” you chide, shoving anton’s shoulder playfully.
as anton trains his focus back to the road, he looks over at you one more time, just for him. you’re laying your cheek against the car door and watching the trees pass. the wind sweeps your hair into something of a halo, and the setting sun makes you look like an angel glowing in the sky.
a familiar thought plagues the boy’s mind again. anton wonders if you’ll ever sit down and listen to some of his songs, like really listen to them. maybe one day you’ll see past the playful melodies and soft guitar and hear his songs for what they really are:
love letters to you.
#riize#riize imagines#riize x reader#anton lee#lee chanyoung#anton x reader#anton imagines#anton lee x reader#riize fluff#anton fluff#chanyoung x reader#anton#riize anton#riize fics#anton fic#anton lee fic#riize fic recs
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Trouble In the Library // D.M x reader
word count: 1.3k
Summary: You liked helping your friends with their class work, but Draco saw it differently. (Fluff / slight angst / crying)
Authors note: I wrote this at work lmaooo so apologies if it’s not fleshed out. Working in grocery the week of Thanksgiving is disgusting. Send me ur prayers.
[masterlist]
// REQUESTS OPEN //
Much love, Saige
————————
You hated being called ditzy. You weren’t ditzy, you actually were acutely aware of your surroundings at all times. You swore people despise you for your optimism and positive outlook despite being placed in Slytherin. You hated automatically seeing the dark side of things and the generic snobbiness your housemates had. You understood what you were in control of and you used that to your advantage. Draco secretly loved you for it. He felt consistently tested, surrounded by negativity and horrors no matter where he went. He was constantly battling his own mental health and the general wizard in public at any time. His image was on the line.
Sometimes it felt like yours too now that you hung out together. You didn’t exactly fit into the popular group but you were invited to sit and mingle every once in a while. Draco was cautious about his advancements towards friendship with you, wanting to keep his quiet power forthcoming; but he liked how you were unapologetically yourself. Behind closed doors he thought of you fondly. Wondering how you could be around so many assholes all day, him included without blowing your top. He didn’t want to make you upset but he wondered what it took.
He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt protective over you around the others. What he didn’t like was how other people treated you. Not only for being associated with him, but he began to notice how people would use your kindness against you. You weren’t really ever bothered by it, but Draco had an outsider point of view. He could see they weren’t actually being your friends. For a while he let it go, trying to be unwavering. After a little while, he became suspicious of his posé and they’re use of you.
-
“Wait, you’re not in transfiguration this term?” Draco whispered learning over your shoulder. He noticed your hands scribbling down notes on parchment. You just furrowed your eyebrows trying to focus not looking back.
“Of course I’m not. This is for Pansy.” You whispered back.
You were in the library, attempting to use any last bit of school to be productive. Christmas break was around the corner and everyone was cramming or writing for their finals. Draco surprised you with his presence, but he usually found himself meddling with whatever you were doing.
Draco sighed quietly behind you, taking a seat next to you. You looked up at him, halting your hands from writing.
“Pansy huh.” He mumbled. He sat back lazily in the chair, his legs outstretched.
“What’s wrong?” You looked at him inquisitively, worried he had something on his mind that was bothering him. He just shook his head smilled lightly at you. He didn’t want to make a fuss, especially not in the library of all places. He made note to ask about it later, but you persisted.
“Come on-“ you smirked “I’m an academic.” you lifted your shoulders smiling at him jokingly. He chuckled, taking a breath in. He supposed now was a better time than any.
“I know, you’re incredibly smart. I just wonder if Pansy could do her own work.” He reached across the table scooting the parchment in front of himself to read. It wasnt just class notes, it was an essay. The final essay for advanced transfiguration; Pansy’s name scribbled on the top right corner.
“Well Pansy is my friend” You whispered. “She just asked for a little help. That’s all.” You grabbed it back taking another look at it.
You thought about it after a second. She was your friend. Right? She hung around you and Draco a lot; always around.
You sat back in the chair, laying your hands in your lap. You thought she was. She wouldn’t force you to do anything. She asked you fair and square, you could’ve said no. Right?
“Y/n.” He begins to notice your face change. Your demeanor more tense, your eyes looking around the library as if to find Pansy amongst the students.
“I must be wrong. I’m sorry for overstepping -“ Draco started
You soon started to recall when Pansy would approach you in the hallway. She was always surrounded by others, her questions quick and one sided. You always asked her how she was and she would brush it off, getting right to the assignment she “needed help on”. Not just Pansy, but your own housemates, strangers, anyone. You thought you were just reliable. A good friend? You didn’t understand.
You were soon embarrassed, how could you not see? You looked at Draco, his eyes empathetic. You looked at him, a small scowl on your face, pushing back the lump swelling in your throat.
“It’s fine. It’s none of your business anyway.” You begin to roll up the parchment, shoving it in your bag. Wasn’t Pansy his friend too? What was he trying to imply?
“I was just trying to be nice.” You whispered, clasping your bag shut, shoving it over your shoulder. Draco sat up in his chair now noticing how upset you were. “There’s nothing wrong with that” you choked.
“They were clearly taking advantage of that!” He finally stood grabbing your shoulder. You stood face to face, your cheeks red from embarrassment but also his touch. It sent flames through your body but your mind was too occupied to focus on it. He was close enough to smell the fabric softener on his uniform. A small mole on his jaw you’ve never noticed before.
“Since when do you care so much!” You whisper back. You knew that was rude to say, your own emotions boiling over. Draco’s grip on your shoulder tightened holding you where you were. A single tear fell from your eyes, releasing the floodgates. Draco sighed pulling you into his arms. You both stood in the library, his arms enveloping you, muffling your cries as you let it all out. You kept your arms to your side, too afraid to hug him back.
“I just want to look out for you.” He whispers into your ear. You say nothing, just crying into his chest. It was true. You were ditzy and unaware. No matter how kind you tried to be, how different of a slytherin you wanted to be, you were naive. Draco was tense, but his chest was comforting, the sound of his heart beating against your ear.
You felt yourself relax after a minute, the tears running dry. You slowly wrapped your arms around his torso hiccuping slightly trying to catch your breath. You could feel his heart speed at your touch. It ran rampant but his body language wouldn’t have revealed it to you if you didn’t have your head on his chest. He didn’t say a word, worried it would end the moment between you two. He laid his chin on the top of your head holding you tighter as you grip his shirt.
You don’t dare move. Both of you are afraid of the other's actions. Something changed between you two after today. Did Draco feel the same about you? Was it naive to think that? You were too confused in your own feelings to make clear of anything already upset from misreading the relationships of your so-called friends.
But Draco did feel the same. He relished in the feeling of your hair tickling his chin. He loved how short you were, fitting into his arms like a puzzle piece. He loved how different you were from him, the idea of him softening up because of you was welcoming. He wished he could hold you daily, not just to comfort you in times of pain.
“You don’t need to do their work anymore. And if they give you trouble I’ll be there. You can promise that.” He whispered. You swear you felt like you could fly. Only time would tell if his words rein true.
#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco fanfiction#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy#harry potter imagines#harry potter#harry potter x reader#harry potter headcanon#harrypotter#harry potter fanfiction#hogwarts#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin x reader#slytherin
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something about you | draco malfoy
Summary: After a rough week, you have one two many butterbeers and get help from the last person you’d expect. Warnings: being tipsy?? Word Count: 1.4k Authors Note: this is a repost from my old account. i wrote it in 2020 so its not the best but i wanted it on this account to keep all my best fics in one place <3
Weekends meant Hogsmeade trips which were your favourite part of the week. There was nothing like getting out of the school grounds for a bit after a hectic week of classes. As much as you loved Hogwarts, it was nice to get away from the chaos of the castle sometimes even if it was only for a few hours. It was even nicer after a stressful week and to say this week had been stressful was an understatement. Right from the get go everything had seemed to be going wrong. You’d managed to forget your potions homework which had resulted in detention then, because of that, you’d missed your date with Seamus. It hadn’t been that big of a deal — it wasn’t like your relationship was serious but you had liked him. It wasn’t enough for you to be upset when he asked if you could just stay friends instead but it did put you in a foul mood. It seemed that every time you had something good planned the world tried it’s best to disrupt it. So, the trip to Hogsmeade was needed. Very needed.
Usually, you tagged along with the golden trio but you decided to go solo today telling them that you’d meet them for a drink later on before you all headed back to the castle. As you walked through the main road, you spotted Draco Malfoy and his goons harassing some third year. You and Draco hadn’t really interacted much other than the casual ‘hello’ here and there but he’d always been rather polite around you so why couldn’t he be like that with everyone else? You knew your friends had an issue with him and couldn’t blame them but you had nothing against him. So far he’d done nothing to you but it did annoy you to see him bullying a poor, defenceless boy just trying to enjoy a day out.
“Hey, come on. Leave him alone,” you said walking up to where the incident was happening. Goyle was the first to hear you, turning to face you with the ugliest sneer on his face.
“Back off. This is none of your business,” he said gruffly.
“What exactly has he done to deserve you bothering him? Just leave him alone. You’re a sixth year and he’s a third. Pick on someone your own size.”
“I said back off.”
“Goyle! That’s no way to talk to a lady.” Draco had finally spoken up, glaring at his friend. “Since you asked so kindly, we’ll let little Roger here be on his way.”
“Thank you,” you gave Draco the tiniest of smiles as little Roger ran past mouthing a ‘thanks’ to you.
With that all sorted out, you went on your way not noticing the youngest Malfoy watching you as you did. He’d always found you intriguing. Honestly, he’d always wanted to strike up a conversation with you but since you were in two completely different houses and he had a reputation to maintain, he opted for mostly ignoring you and trying to be civil. Part of him really hated the fact that he couldn’t just do the things he wanted to but he couldn’t take any chances of his father hearing about him doing such things. Befriending someone outside of Slytherin house was frowned upon so keeping his distance was his only option but little did he know that was about to change.
“Barkeep, another!” You yelled out earning funny looks from Harry, Ron and Hermione as you slammed your glass down on the table. You’d been sat with them for half an hour now and had already thrown back about four butterbeers. They didn’t even know how many you’d had before they’d arrived but it was safe to say that with the way you were acting, you were pretty darn tipsy.
“Maybe you should make this your last one,” Hermione suggested, reaching out to place her hand on yours in a comforting manner. “I know you’ve had a tough week but if you want to talk then I’m here.”
All you did was shoot her a big, toothy grin in thanks as your new drink was placed in front of you. “It’s not like I’m sad or anything. I just… need to blow off some steam, you know? When have you known me to get tipsy off butter beer anyway? It’s just one time. It’s fine.”
After another half an hour, Harry declared that he wanted to go back to the castle — Hermione and Ron agreed. They tried to get you to go with them but you refused telling them you’d make your own way back. Harry had tried to pull you up and drag you with them knowing you weren’t exactly sober but you were too stubborn to budge. Ron had somehow convinced them you were smart enough to know what you were doing and with that they left.
It was one drink later when you’d finally decided you’d had enough, getting up out of your seat. But, you’d stood up too fast and with the butterbeer in your system it didn’t help one bit, the whole room spinning. You gripped the chair with one hand to steady yourself.
“You doing okay?” A familiar voice asked you. Your eyes glanced up to meet none other than Draco’s.
“I’ll be honest, blondie, I might have drank a little too much,” you said and couldn’t help but grin at him.
“I can tell.” He pondered for a moment almost having an internal battle with himself before he decided he had to be a decent human being and help you out. “Here,” he said, grabbing your jacket nd helping you put it on. He held his arm out for you. You didn’t even argue lacing your arm through it so he could help you back up to the castle.
The first few moments were silent until you spoke up curious as to why Draco Malfoy of all people was helping you out. “Got a feeling you don’t really do this much especially when I caught you bullying a poor innocent boy earlier.”
“You’d be right but contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a decent guy. I have manners and know when to not leave a lady alone in your state,” he mumbled.
“I’m not that drunk, you know. Just tipsy.”
“Tipsy enough for me to be concerned and it takes a lot to concern me. Why’d you even drink that much anyway? It takes a lot of butterbeers to get anyone drunk. Rough day?”
“Try rough week.”
“Is this about that imbecile Seamus? You can do much better,” Draco pulled a disgusted face at the mere sound of his name coming out of his mouth. At your confused look, he went on to explain. “I was walking past when you two were having a chat. Complete idiot he is if you ask me.”
A little laugh passed by your lips. “Don’t hide how you really feel. But, yeah and no. He and I weren’t even really together. It was just an culmination of things coming together all week. I’m fine, though.”
He looked at you to examine your face for any signs that you were lying but he couldn’t find any. You really did seem okay which was a relief to him. The last thing he wanted was to have some deep hearted conversation. It was a shock to him and you that he was even talking to you as much as he was.
Silence took over again as you reached the castle. Although, you didn’t want to admit it being in his company felt nice. Natural, even. You felt comfortable even when it was silent. There wasn’t any awkwardness. If you didn’t know any better you’d think you actually liked being in Draco’s company. He liked being in yours too but he was nowhere near comfortable enough to admit that.
“Thanks for walking me back. You’re alright, Malfoy,” you gave him a playful nudge with your shoulder causing a slight grin to form on his face. Funny, you’d never really seen him smile before. It looked good on him.
“You too. I meant it, by the way. You can do much better than most of the boys in this retched school.”
“Are you about to make some overly dramatic speech and ask me out?”
This time a large, hearty chuckle came from him and you couldn’t help but feel a little hint of butterflies start up that you’d been the one to get that out of him. Draco shook his head. “You wish but who knows what the future holds, eh? See you around.
With a wink, he headed on into the castle. Well, now you couldn’t wait to bump into your new favourite Slytherin more often.
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Steve is banging at the trailers door like his life is depending on it. After a few minutes a sleepy eddie opens the door, his eyes going big when he sees Steves face.
‚Whats up man you okay?‘
‚Uh yeah I just need to aks a favor‘ Steve says running a hand through his hair. Now that he‘s actually standing in front of Eddie he gets a bit nervous. He bites his lip and asks: ‚Uhm can I come in? Are you alone?‘
‚Uh yeah sure Waynes working.‘
Eddie steps aside and closes the door behind Steve who awkwardly stands in the living room like he never has been here.
Eddie looks at him chuckling. ‚Sure you okay?‘
Steve laughs to make the nerves go away, nod and shakes his hands out and after a few seconds decides to sit down.
‚Yeah sorry to just show up here but…‘
Eddie grins ‚no worries man you know you‘re always welcome. So what do you need? If its drugs I‘m sorry to disappoint but I just sold my last gram.
‚Uh no its not drugs. I wanted to ask If I can kiss you?‘
For a moment its completely silent then eddie laughs and looks at steve confused. ‚what?‘
‚yeah its well its for proofing robin something.‘
‚You got a bet going or something?‘
‚No not really more like a discussion. Like we talked about sexuality and I asked her how she knew she was gay and she said that she had a crush on a girl and also she kissed a guy and didn‘t like it and then I said well what if the guy was just a bad kisser and what if you still like guys like you like girls like how does she know she doesn‘t like both because you can do that aparently so she said she just knows but then I said kissing a guy and kissing a girl can‘t be that different like a mouth is a mouth right so I need to proof that to her.‘
Eddie looks at him for a moment completely baffeld by his rambles then stutters: ‚ By…by kissing me?‘
‚Well yeah you‘re my only male friend at the moment like besides the kids but I‘m obviously not gonna kiss a kid so yeah…‘
‚oh’
‚oh?‘
Eddie fidgets for a few seconds with his fingers then smiles shyly: ‚I just woke up I haven‘t even brushed my theeth like…‘
‚Doesn’t matter its just a kiss no big deal.‘
‚Like with tongue?‘
‚Yeah of course with tongue or else it doesnt count!‘
‚Oh okay. I… I dont know Steve…‘
Steve‘s confused for a second because he hasn‘t really seen Eddie being shy like this. Usually it‘s Eddie who‘s flirting with him or making fun of him but this seems to comptely throw him off. So Steve decided that this was probably a bad Idea and he really doesn‘t want to scare him off and lose him as a friend so he says:
‚Look if you don’t want to it’s alright of course you don’t have to…sorry that was a bad idea never mind.‘
‚No its fine Steve.‘
‚No I shouldn‘t have asked you this just because you’re my only male friend its no fair…‘
‚It’s okay Steve really it’s just…‘ Eddie laughs nervously ‚I‘ve never kissed anyone.‘
‚What?‘
‚Yeah I mean I‘ve never kissed anyone besides Chrissy in sixth grade but was just a short peck definitely without tongue so apparently it doesen’t count anyway I didn‘t really like it because you know gay and everything so yeah no I haven‘t kissed anyone since…‘
‚What?‘ Steve just looks at him completely thrown off. Eddie chuckles.
‚Why are you so surprised? I mean its not like Hawkins is crawling with gay people just available for kissing and also im like the town freak so it’s not like there’s a line of single men waiting outside to be kissed by me…‘ Eddie trails off a bit embarrased while Steve just contious to stare at him.
I’m sorry Eddie…‘ he starts saying but Eddie interrupts him. It‘s okay don’t worry it’s not like I‘m desperate or anything.‘
‚I can’t be your first kiss!‘
‚Why not?‘
‚Because it should be real and not just an experiment.‘
‚You know what why not? I mean you can probably also teach me a thing or two I mean you‘ve kissed loads and I mean I should train a little bit for that chance that a real kiss comes up right?‘
‚Right but…‘‘
‚Now c’mon Steve you have to kiss me now!‘
‚Okay are you sure Eddie?‘
‚Yeah sure let’s go!‘
Steve stands up and walks over to Eddie who has been standing at the kitchen counter the whole time and he takes his face in one hound and holds the other to the back of his head.
‚Ready?‘ Steve asks and suddenly he‘s so close that he can feel Eddie‘s breath on his skin. ‚Yeah’ Eddie whispers and gets closer both hands gripping the kitchen counter not daring to move an inch. Steve closes the gap between them and feels Eddie’s warm lips on his.
***
Part 2
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie ficlet#steddie fanficiton#just something I wrote down in my notes the other day#and decided to post it#is this something?#i really don‘t know you have to tell me#also tell me if you want a part two#anyway english is NOT my first language so apologies for any mistakes#my writing
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you're my shotgun lover and i want it all | tyler owens (twisters)
masterlist ❈
summary: Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells. author's note: i...wrote this...in one.......single......afternoon. my fingers hurt anyway he's so hot i have had a crush on glen powell since 2018 (set it up supremacy) but this movie reawakened something in me. i should probably watch top gun now
pairing: tyler owens x f!reader word count: 9,123 (...oopsie) warnings/tags: pWp (with, y'all!), alternate universe: canon divergence, friends to lovers, friends with benefits
also cross-posted to ao3 okay love you bye xoxo your comments and reblogs are appreciated but not required i will love you all the same i hope u like !!!! <3
all characters are 18+ these are 18+ activities minors pls do not interact my eye is twitching as i write this
It has been one hell of a week.
The tornadic activity has been off the charts – more storms built up under ideal conditions for weather hell-bent on destruction in a multiple-day stretch than you can remember ever tracking before. Your team had obviously been up for the chase, but now that the storms have passed, and the sun shines on the cleanup efforts, you can’t help but wish you’d chosen a different life path. You love what you do, but God, were you tired. Blisters have formed on the palms of your hands despite the gloves you’d donned. You could practically feel the knots forming in your neck. You shovel one more load of leaf litter before heaving the blade into the ground and leaning against it. Across from you, a backhoe is demolishing and excavating the remains of a house.
You close your eyes and try to just let the sun warm your face, thinking about how fast it can all just be gone. Mother Nature’s a beautiful force, but she can be cruel.
“Hey, don’t be slowin’ down on me,” Tyler jokes, clapping a hand between your shoulder blades. You hadn’t heard him approach, and his voice has startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’re ‘bout halfway done with our part, I think.”
“No,” you reply, swiping the back of your arm across your forehead, trying in vain to clear your bangs from your eyes, but they won’t budge. Tyler reaches up and, almost as if he isn’t even thinking about it, takes the unruly pieces of hair between his thumb and forefinger and tucks it behind your ear, underneath the temple of your sunglasses, to make sure it stays this time. The action is so intimate it sends a flush crawling up your neck. You chance a look around to make sure no one else has seen. “Not slowin’ down, I promise. Just thinking about how lucky we are to be alive. How sad it is that all these people just lost everything.”
You’ve known Tyler since the two of you were in college together, fast friends who’d stuck together through a lot that could've put a strain on any other relationship, although you hadn’t studied meteorology – you’d been in school to be a librarian.
One night, he’d asked you to stay up and help him with a lab he’d missed for one of his classes, and he loves to say he knew it then – that you were hooked – but you were too far along in your degree to do anything about it now. Switching from an arts degree to one in STEM? You’d have had to start over from scratch.
Tyler had formed his team while you were in grad school and he was working as a cowboy for the rodeo back home, and you’d dropped out without a second thought when he asked you to be a founding member, to travel the country with him every tornado season. Said he wouldn’t – couldn’t – think about doing it without you. You’ve been riding with him ever since.
The two of you share everything, always have, and sometimes you wonder if it might be too much for the professional relationship you’re supposed to have.
“That’s what we’re here for,” Tyler grins, the hand still glued to your back rubbing gently, sending goosebumps across your skin under your shirt. “To help ‘em feel like their luck is turnin’.”
Always the optimist, Tyler Owens. He clears his throat, the hand on your back pulling away, and steps slightly closer to you.
“One of the folks over there gave these to me,” he says, gesturing to a group of people gathering in front of a house that looks like something had tried to suck it into the ground from dead center. “I saved their cat from their screened-in porch, poor thing had been yowling all night apparently. Know these’re your favorite, so, here you go. I think you earned it.”
You take the tin from him and open it, your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the small, round butter cookies inside. “God,” you groan, picking one up and taking a bite, savoring it over your tongue. You can feel Tyler watching you carefully. “Thank you. You get me.”
“Do we get cookies, Tyler?”
Lily’s voice sounds from your left, and you glance over at her. The shit-eating look on her face tells you she did see Tyler fix your hair for you. Your stomach somersaults.
“If you’re good,” Tyler says, smirking, “after the sun sets, we can head back to the motel, find some shitty bar, and drinks’ll be on me, okay? How’s that sound?”
Lily whoops, turning to Dani, who’d since appeared beside her, and the two snicker and fist bump.
“You need any help over here?”
You look back at Tyler, cupping one hand above your eyes to shield them from the sunlight. Despite your glasses, it shines bright from directly behind him, and you can hardly stand to look at him.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you murmur in reply, bending down to toss some siding that had been blown off one of the houses on this street into the wheelbarrow you’ve been using. “You should go see what Boone’s up to – I don’t think anyone has seen him in a minute.”
No doubt Boone was hiding somewhere with one of the breakfast burritos Lily and Dani have been rolling since early that morning, seeing how long he can get away with not doing his part. He’s a good guy, but the manual labor side of the job isn’t really his thing.
“Eh, he’s better off wherever he is,” Tyler laughs, and a small smile takes over your face, too. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? You don’t need a break? You can take a minute to yourself, no one’ll judge. I know how this can all get to you a little more than it gets to everyone else.”
You know him well enough to know he’s not calling you weak-stomached, that he’s genuinely concerned for how you feel, but he’s right. It does all get to you. Settling in to help survivors of these natural disasters is just something that comes with the chasing – there isn’t one without the other for you and the rest of the crew. You nod, glancing back up at him.
“I’m okay, Tyler. Go off and be the face of the operation – you don’t have to worry about me.”
Tyler’s eyes narrow, his gaze shifting between your eyes, trying to find evidence you’re withholding the truth from him, but he seems to find nothing. With a minute tip of his head, he turns to resume working through a long-term plan for rebuilding the town with the mayor and some other members of the local government.
This is something else you know he loves to do – shmooze with higher-ups, show off his people skills. Not only are they higher-ups, they’re small-town folk. His kind of people. He knows how to get through to them, how to get them to trust him. You love that about Tyler. He’s never condescending – he always has a genuine desire to help. He’s been through this hundreds of times, and these people may only have been through it this one time. You look around at them, at the people of all ages picking up the pieces that remain of their community, then cross your fingers and send a thought out to anyone listening:
Please let it be the only time.
After a few more hours of genuinely back-breaking work, you hear Tyler’s sharp whistle and know it’s time, meandering over to his truck where it’s been parked for almost eighteen hours. Using your teeth, you pull your gloves from your hands and hiss. They’ve been rubbed raw, the skin blistering where each finger meets the palm. You try to ignore the throbbing sensation, leaning against the passenger side door and closing your eyes. The rest of the crew sidle up to you, taking long drags from water bottles and cigarettes and trying to make peace with how you’re leaving this place tonight.
“Does anyone else want to break off to shower first?”
It seems Dani’s the only one, and they shrug, putting their hand out, palm up, to Dexter, who hands them the keys to the RV.
“Meet y’all there,” they say, stifling a yawn, and you know it’ll be a bit before you see them. The rest of you will have to pile into Tyler’s truck, and before you can object, the other three crawl into the back seat and leave you on the front bench with Tyler. You let yourself in and close the door behind you, buckling and watching as Tyler shakes someone’s hand and hustles to meet the rest of you. His Texans cap hits the bench before he does, between the two of you, and he turns his keys in the ignition, buckling his own seatbelt.
“Where we headin’?”
“There’s a place with a mechanical bull nearby. I vote there.”
“How nearby is ‘nearby,’ Boone?”
“Uh,” he pulls his phone from his pocket, does a quick Google to double-check. “Forty-five minutes?”
Dexter leans over and grips Boone’s phone, reading the screen. “In the opposite direction of the motel, Boone.”
Everyone groans, objecting, and you press your hand against your temple to alleviate the pressure there. The noise, God, the noise.
“Could we go somewhere closer to the motel, maybe?”
“It’s got a mechanical bull,” Boone stresses, and everyone rolls their eyes.
“Boone, you know damn well we’re not making it back to the motel if we go that far away.”
He groans, and you pull your own phone out, checking Maps to see what’s around the motel.
“This one’s three minutes from where we’re stayin’,” you say, showing Tyler your screen, and he nods, shifting into reverse, backing out, and starting down the one lane of the street that’s been cleared of debris.
“Hey Boone,” you toss over your shoulder as Tyler shifts into second gear. “By the way. Long time no see.”
Lily snorts, smacking you on the shoulder to let you know she thought that was a good one. Boone shakes his head.
“Hey, just because you didn’t see me all day doesn’t mean I wasn’t out there, too. How do I know you were workin’, weren’t sitting on your ass in the shade somewhere, hm?”
You hold your raw, red palms out for him to inspect and that shuts Boone up quick. Tyler whistles as he gets an eyeful of your skin.
“God damn, girl,” Lily murmurs. “That looks like it hurts. I think I might have Aquaphor in my bag back at the motel if you want some.”
“I’ll be alright,” you reply, knocking your elbow against her knee behind you in thanks. “Appreciate you.”
The rest of the drive is taken mostly in silence, everyone in the backseat trying to rest their eyes, but you stay up, your eyes on the road, so Tyler isn’t the only one making the thirty-ish minute drive back to where you’re staying, where you checked in only after it’d been decided which towns had been hit the worst, so you could reach all of them easily by truck.
“What’s goin’ on in your head? Hm?”
You turn to look at Tyler and he glances at you from out of the corner of his eye, then at your lap, at the fingernails you’ve picked down to the quick. “Real quiet over there.”
“Nothing,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t let Boone get to you,” Tyler says, tapping his right fist on your thigh once, twice, then letting it rest there. You brush your knuckles against his and he opens the fist immediately, taking your hand in his but not squeezing, careful not to put pressure on the blisters on your palms.
“It’s not that,” you start, then realize your mistake, your admission. “I really – I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”
You’re acutely aware of your hand in Tyler’s. It’s not like you’ve ever been shy around him – your cheeks flush at the thought – but this is…different. Sweet. More.
“Yeah, that it has,” he sighs, adjusting his left hand on the steering wheel so he can drive a little more comfortably, but his right hand stays in yours.
You settle back into silence, Tyler seemingly having dropped the subject, and your eyes return to the road, but you feel him looking over at you, checking on you, every once in a while. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze.
Soon enough, Tyler is putting the truck in park, then shutting the thing off. The noise – or lack thereof, you guess – wakes Dexter in the back, then Lily, who snorts when she sees your hand in Tyler’s. You pull away and unbuckle your seatbelt, watching as Tyler, with a hurt look on his face, wipes his hand on his jeans and swings himself down and out of the truck.
“C’mon, Boone,” he shouts, slapping a hand on the door that Boone has his head resting against, and the man sits up straight, wiping sleep from his eyes. “The sun hasn’t even gone down yet. Drinks on me, pal!”
The motel really is that close to the bar, so you all decide you’ll leave the truck parked there and walk home at the end of the night. The unspoken verdict is that you will all be getting shitfaced tonight.
The lingering smell of cigarettes in the air seems to rejuvenate everyone and Lily pumps a fist when she spots the old-fashioned jukebox across the room, then claps a hand over her mouth when she realizes there’s a TouchTunes sitting right next to it.
“Oh, I am so forcing you fuckers to listen to Chappell Roan all night,” she says gleefully, and you laugh along with her, looping your arm in hers and letting her pull you across the room while the boys settle in at the bar.
“So what was that all about?”
“What was what all about?” You play dumb, shrugging when Lily gives you a hard look and unhooks her arm from yours.
“Girl, seriously,” Lily scoffs, bumping your hip with hers and slipping a twenty dollar bill into the TouchTunes. Evidently she wasn’t joking when she meant you’d be listening to Chappell Roan all night. “I saw that thing earlier, the hair thing, don’t think I didn’t. And y’all holding hands in the truck. What’s going on there?”
You shake your head but she grabs your wrist. “I’m serious, Lil. Nothing’s going on. We’re friends – good friends. He noticed I was having a hard time today, and wanted to make sure I was alright. That’s all.”
You can tell she doesn’t fully believe you, and when she opens her mouth to object, you cut her off.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?”
Lily watches you, trying to read the small line between your eyebrows, but eventually she nods and lets go of you, letting you turn away from her. You push through the door to the women’s restroom, your nose wrinkling at the smell, but you ignore it. Standing in front of the sink, you watch yourself, hands shaking. This isn’t you. You’re better than this at shoving these feelings for Tyler down, way down – or, rather, you had been, up until this week broke you, apparently. Turning the knob for the cold water to the left, you let it run over your sore hands, hissing at the feeling. Carefully, you cup your palms and watch them fill, then splash the water onto your face, soothing the flush. There. That should help.
There’s a cold bottle of Coors in front of the seat next to Dexter when you arrive back to the group, “Red Wine Supernova” playing from the speakers. You almost snort at all the old men – regulars, no doubt – groaning out their distaste for whoever chose the music all across the room.
“Thanks,” you toss over your shoulder at Tyler, sitting on the other side of Dexter and Boone. He nods and nurses his own. You frown and settle onto the stool, leaning an elbow on the bartop so you can turn and face your friends. The cold beer against the palms of your hands feels so nice.
What’s wrong with him? He won’t make eye contact with you, and you notice his jaw clicking as he grits his teeth. What’s got his panties in a twist?
As the night unfolds, you find yourself laughing more and more, loosening up, letting the stress of the last week fade into memory. Someone has produced a deck of cards from God knows where and Dani – who did join the group eventually – is showing off card tricks you didn’t even know they knew. You feel a warmth spreading through your body, and you can’t stop thinking about how much you love all of these people. Your friends. Your family. Empty bottles are swiftly replaced with full, cold ones without notice, and everyone is languid, relaxed, unburdened by the work that you’re all doing.
You take a pull from your drink, using the cover of the bottle to risk a glance to Tyler three seats down from you to find that he’s already watching you, and the look in his eye tells you exactly what he’s thinking. That somersault-y feeling is lower than your stomach now. You’re only three beers deep, but the air in your head reminds you that you’ve barely eaten all day, so you’re a little more affected by the alcohol than you’d usually be. Impolitely, you reach across Dexter next to you to grab a handful of peanuts from the basket to his left.
Glancing back up at Tyler, you meet his heady gaze again, and he smirks around the lip of the bottle against his mouth. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you. You swallow nervously around another sip of beer.
Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells.
“Alright, y’all,” Lily says, slapping a hand on the bar, startling you out of your thoughts. You watch her, popping a nut into your mouth. “Think I’m gonna head out. I suggest you all do, too, fuckers, it’s late.”
Everyone starts to protest, but one glance at the clock tells you you’ve all stayed much longer than you thought – it’s a quarter past midnight, and you’ve got to be up with the daylight. You balk, but if you want to talk to Tyler tonight, you know you’ve got to shoulder your exhaustion and stick it out a little longer.
“I think I might stay for a bit,” you murmur, watching everyone stand and gather their things. You glance over at Tyler, who you can see clearly now that everyone’s out of their seats, and he’s watching you, too. The look on his face reads plain, now – he wants you.
“I’ll stay with her,” he says, eyes on yours. The green in them has disappeared almost completely, you notice, his pupils blown wide. “Walk her back. Y’all head back if you want.”
“I might stay, too –” Boone’s voice cuts off, coughing as Lily elbows him in the stomach, maybe a little too hard. “What the fuck was that for?”
“You’re going to bed, too, Boone,” Dani interrupts, a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the door. They poke him once when he starts to protest. “C’mon, now.”
Everyone shuffles out the front, Dexter calling good night, and all of the sudden, it’s just you and Tyler. You don’t know why, but your palms begin to sweat at the thought of being alone with him again. He stands, palming his drink, and slides onto the seat next to you, his body angled towards yours.
He’s never made you nervous like this. You don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you.
“So,” Tyler starts, grinning at you. “You come here often?”
You snort, emboldened by the booze, and he chuckles in response. “Idiot.”
“God, but I do love making you laugh.”
You blush under his scrutinous gaze, and take a quick swig of the dregs of your drink, unsure what to say to that. He mirrors you, taking a sip of his own while his eyes bore into yours. Accusatory.
“You don’t do it much anymore, you know that?”
“Do what?”
“Laugh.”
You press your fingertips to your mouth and Tyler’s eyes follow your hand. “I guess I just haven’t had much to laugh about lately,” you start, sighing deeply. “Tornado season’s been hard this year, and you know how much that – it gets to me. As much as I love what we do. You know. Remember that family a couple weeks back whose daughter was stuck under her bunk bed when it pressed on her too long, lost her leg below the knee? That got to me, Tyler. It did.”
“It gets to me, too,” he murmurs, knocking his knee against yours. “I guess I’m just better at hiding how bad it affects me. You can talk to me about it, though. You can talk to any of us.”
“I know I can,” you breathe, trying to keep your hands from shaking. “I know. Sometimes I don’t know what to say, though, you know, what is there to say? It’s not fair to complain about how sad it makes me to watch these people lose everything.”
“You’re allowed to feel sad. And to feel frustrated. It’s not fair, you’re right, but we’re doing good work, yeah? Fighting the good fight. Figuring out what makes these things tick, how to warn people when they’re in the path, get them outta the way and safe. Maybe they lose their house, their car, but they won’t lose themselves, or each other. That’s what matters most. Just remember that.”
You look up at him, set your elbow on the bartop, and prop your chin on your open palm. Your hands don’t hurt so bad anymore, you notice. “Thanks, Tyler.”
“Anytime,” he smiles, but you shake your head.
“Seriously. You always know what to say.”
A look crosses his face then, too quick for you to read, and he sets his drink down, flagging the bartender over to close out the team’s tab. You frown, wondering if you’d, ironically, said the wrong thing.
“What’s up?”
Tyler looks back to you, and this time, the look in his eyes is unmistakable. It burns. “Taking you home, sweetheart.”
The walk back to your motel is done in silence. Tyler’s hand swings next to yours, and you feel it searching for yours more than once, but you don’t take it. You climb the stairs together, slowly, and he walks you to your door. His room is one more floor up.
You can tell he thinks you won’t invite him in, that you’ve changed your mind – or maybe that you never made it up. He hadn’t, after all, told you plainly that that was why he’d stayed with you at the bar. You unlock the room with your key card and step inside, opening the door only far enough for you to fit through it. You turn back to look at him, his face awash in the street lights shining into the hallway. You flip the lightswitch on next to you, illuminating the room behind you, too.
“Well,” he murmurs, making to head back down the stairs. “Good night.”
“Tyler?”
His head turns back to look at you, watching as you hold out one hand and he takes it, letting you pull him closer to you. You press yourself into him, push your whole face against his chest, your hip keeping the door from closing on the two of you. You inhale deeply, the smell of him overtaking your senses. His cologne, yes, but underneath that, the smell of dirt, earth. Home.
You feel his arms wrap around your back and you turn your head to the side, press your ear to his heartbeat. Your hands come up to scratch down his back and you feel it when he shudders.
“Stay?”
You hear his breath hitch in his chest, then the deep rumble of his voice as he says, “Alright, baby.”
With a short inhale, your eyes flutter, nearly closing at the term of endearment. You step back, pulling him with you, and as you close the door behind you, he pushes one hand up into your hair and pulls your head toward his.
“I, uh,” you whisper against his lips when they get close enough to yours, “I think I might shower first, if that’s okay with you?”
“Alright,” he murmurs, unlacing his hand from the strands of your hair before toeing his boots off and carefully setting them under the chair next to the front door. “You want company?”
You swallow. You’ve never done anything like that before. It’s always been quick. When you do this with him, you hardly ever have time for a chat before he’s got your shirt over your head and his mouth on your skin.
“Sure,” you reply. You feel him watch as you turn around and pull your shirt off, reaching back to unclasp your bra. The modesty feels redundant, but you can’t help it.
“Not gettin’ shy on me now, are you? S’not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” he chuckles, and you throw a look at him over your shoulder just as he’s pulling his own shirt over his head. He left his hat at the bar, you think. You’ll have to go back in for it when you pick up the truck.
“Tyler,” you scold, and he laughs at you, steps across the room to wrap an arm around your torso and press a kiss to where your neck meets your shoulder. The place he knows makes you melt. You sigh and push back against him, the feeling of his hard chest against your bare back a welcome one. This feels more like what you know, what you’re used to.
“Shower,” you remind him, and he nods, his forehead pressed into that spot now, and he pushes his fingers underneath the waistband of your jeans, running them along the bit of skin there around to the front, where the fabric splits at the button. He pops it undone, then uses his thumb and forefinger to grip the zipper and slowly – so slowly – pulls that down. He can’t help himself, you know that, and so you hold your breath and wait for him to push his hand into your panties. Ever a predictable man, he does just that, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm hand against you.
“Are you sure?” Tyler’s breath against your neck makes you shiver, and you press your ear to the side of his chin. He runs his fingers along the seam of you, finding first your clit, your legs twitching at the sudden rush of pleasure when he brushes his hand against it, then pushing down to find you wet and wanting. You cry out softly. “You don’t sound sure. You don’t feel sure.”
You hum, your neck stretching back until your head is pressed to his chest, and he pulls his hand back up to start working small circles on your clit, your wetness on his fingers allowing for smooth movement, with just enough friction to have you panting for more.
“Sounds more to me like you kinda want me to fuck you with my fingers.”
“Tyler,” you whimper, telling him with just his name that you are getting close. He smiles against the side of your neck, pulling his hand away and shoving your jeans and underwear down just enough that his hand has room to smack your clit lightly. You squeal, right leg kicking out at the feeling, and he continues moving his hand in circles to soothe the hurt.
Your breath is coming out of you in short huffs, and before you can come, Tyler takes his hand off of you and wraps it around your stomach to join the other. You pant and whine, rubbing your thighs together to chase the feeling he’d had you practically pressed up against, now ebbing with the loss of his fingers.
“You said you wanted to shower,” he whispers in your ear, pulling your panties back up, and you scowl, pushing away from him. He laughs and holds his hands up in defense as you pick your t-shirt up off your bed and crack it at him like a whip. “Let’s shower, baby.”
“I might kick you out right now, Owens,” you snark, but the small smile on your face gives you away, and Tyler unbuttons his own jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor at the end of the bed. Your jeans join his, and you’re both left in your underwear.
“You wouldn’t,” he replies, pulling his briefs off slowly, biting his bottom lip as you watch him. “You like this cock too much.”
You can’t help laughing at him, but the sight of him bare in front of you does have you biting your lip. You step forward to cup his growing length in your hand. Before you can move it, Tyler puts a hand on your wrist.
“How’s your hand?” He makes to pull it away, presumably to turn it over and appraise your blisters, but you shake your head.
“S’fine,” you whisper, tightening your grip. You tug once, twice, and press a kiss to his bare chest, then tip your head back to search out his lips. He leans down to oblige you, his lips parting against your mouth as you twist your fist. You love these moments you share with him, when you’re both bare, physically, emotionally, away from the real world, and you can pretend this is an everyday thing. When you’re not trying to tell yourself you feel nothing for him. Like this is just how it is between you.
Tyler groans when you pull your hand away from him and you click your tongue, press that same hand against his bicep.
“Doesn’t feel so good, now does it?”
Before you even know what’s happening, Tyler is picking you up, one arm underneath your back and the other around the backs of your knees. You look up at his face and laugh. “Put me down, Owens!”
He grins and carries you the few paces into the bathroom, placing you on your feet in front of the tub. Tyler leans down and pushes his thumbs underneath the waistband of your panties, waiting for you to put your hands on his shoulders and step out of them.
He lets you pull away from him to turn the hot water on, adjusting the cold side until the temperature is perfect, before pulling you against his chest once again. This time, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your backside, and you hum appraisingly. You reach behind you to fist him again, but he shakes his head – you feel his chin brush against the top of your head – and he groans out, “Mm-mm.”
“What?”
“We’re gonna shower, baby, c’mon.”
You glance back towards him and watch as he flicks the overhead light on. “So we don’t slip and die,” he says, and you laugh, pushing the shower curtain to the side. Holding Tyler’s hand, you step over the lip of the tub and under the steady stream of warm water, inhaling deeply when it hits the sore muscles in your shoulders and back. Tyler groans at the feeling, too, when he steps in behind you.
“Here, switch with me,” he murmurs, guiding you by your waist until you’re the one underneath the water. You let it fall onto the top of your head, over your face and down the back of your hair, for a moment, eyes closed, relishing the feeling. Tyler reaches both hands up and brushes the water out of your eyes, runs his hand over the top of your head.
“Shampoo?”
You open one eye, the other shut against the water, and nod. You gaze up at him, heart squeezing at the way he’s watching you. His smile widens and he takes the tiny bottle in his hand – it looks even more comically small now – and dumps the product into his other palm, setting the bottle down onto the edge of the tub and rubbing his hands together.
“Turn around.”
You do as he asks, inhaling sharply through your nose when you feel his hands run through the hair at the crown of your head. Your stomach aches with longing as you register how unnaturally intimate this is. His fingers feel so good against your scalp, which is slightly sunburnt, you’re now realizing. He massages the shampoo further into your hair, running his fingers down the back of your neck and across the tops of your shoulders. When he’s satisfied with his shampoo job, he steers you by your arms to face him again, then carefully helps you tilt your head back and rinses it all from your hair.
You watch him pick up the other small bottle from the shelf, warm water still running down the back of your head.
“I’ll do my conditioner,” you murmur, taking the bottle gently from his hands. “It’s a – it’s a science.”
“I am very good at science, if you can recall.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s something I’ve gotten perfectly right. It’ll take just a sec.”
So you work the conditioner through the ends of your hair, avoiding his gaze as he watches your hands first coat your hair in the product, then rinse it out. He reaches forward to run his own fingers across it, as gently as he can.
“Hm,” he makes the noise in the back of his throat, pulling his hand away. “Soft.”
You can hardly look at him, the twisting feeling in your stomach shifting to something warmer, something further from apprehension, something that feels a lot like want. “You?”
Tyler shakes his head. “I’m good. Here,” he says, rubbing his hands across the plane of your upper back. “You’re tense. You worked hard today. Let me help.”
You weren’t going to protest, but before you can, Tyler guides you forward and out of the direct spray of the shower, then presses his thumbs into your muscle. You groan, your head falling forward onto his chest at the feeling, and he chuckles at you, continuing with his hands. “Feel good?”
“So good,” you whimper, and you feel his cock twitch against your stomach.
“You fucking dog,” you joke, and Tyler laughs against you, pushing your hair off the back of your neck and pressing his thumbs in there, too.
“Hey, what can I say? I like making my girl feel good.”
You freeze. His girl? His girl. He hasn’t noticed your reaction, and he keeps pressing his fingers into your sore muscles, pulling one hand away briefly to push the showerhead down and away from the two of you. You glance up, already missing its warmth, but you find that the steam rising around you is doing a good enough job at that.
“Here, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and guiding you to press your hands against the tiled wall to your left, running his hands down your back.
“What are you –”
Before you can finish the thought, you feel Tyler’s fingers parting the seam of your cunt from – from behind, and you groan at the feeling of his middle finger slipping inside of you.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his knees hitting the floor behind you. You toss a glance at him over your shoulder and your own knees nearly buckle at the way he’s looking up at you – with hunger, and with reverence, and with something else entirely unrecognizable. He looks wild. He looks in love.
One of Tyler’s hands clamps down around your hips and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh as his finger starts to shift in and out of you. You shiver and push your face into the cool tile, groaning softly when he finds that rough bit of flesh inside of you, the one that makes you come undone if he works it long enough.
“Yeah?” Tyler sounds fucked out already, his voice breathy against your skin, and you can picture the look on his face, the concentrated expression he gets when he’s trying to make you come. You try to focus on the feeling of the shower’s spray where it hits the edge of your foot rather than how good his finger feels inside you because if you think too closely about how good it feels, you’ll get lightheaded. And nobody wants that.
“Yeah,” you reply weakly, and for a few minutes it’s just like that, the only sound in the bathroom the shower, your panting moans, and the noise your pussy makes as he pulls his finger in and out.
“Sound so good for me, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh again, and you whine, trying to protest when he slips his finger from you. He laughs deep in his chest and lightly smacks the swell of your ass.
“Don’t complain when I’m doin’ somethin’ nice for you,” he jok, and you can feel then that he’s shifting himself around. You want to look over your shoulder, want to see for yourself what he’s doing, but freeze when you feel his palms cupping your ass, his nose pressing against the inside of your thighs.
Your mouth forms the word oh, but no sound comes out until you feel his mouth press against your cunt, tongue pushing inside of you, and then you cry out, chest heaving, when he presses a sloppy, wet kiss to your clit. You pull your face from where it’s still resting against the tile and look down at Tyler to find he’s already looking right up at you. His grip on your ass tightens when you make eye contact with him, and he spreads you open wider for him, eyes narrowing as his tongue flicks again, and again, and again.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans against you, the vibrations causing your legs to twitch. You already thought you were going to burst, the steam from the shower, the way he’d washed your hair, the fact that he was in your room at all – it all made you feel slightly insane. To add insult to injury, he’s just pushed two fingers inside of you and immediately found the spot that takes you out, and you start to shake a little.
“Tyler,” you whine, pushing one hand down to grip his hair. He groans when you tighten your hold on it, fucking into you a little faster. “Tyler, fuck, gonna come.”
“So come, baby,” comes his reply, and you do, you come so hard that the toes on your right foot curl until you’re on tiptoe and Tyler has to reach up and grip your waist to steady you. You feel it crest, and peak, then subside, but he keeps working you through it, his mouth moving against you still, and a second, smaller – though still good – orgasm wracks your body right after the first.
You breathe through it, push your foot down so you’re standing flat on the surface of the tub again, and wait for Tyler to pull his fingers out of you.
“Baby,” Tyler groans, squeezing your hips, his fingernails biting slightly into your skin. “You gotta let go’a me, if you want me to get up.”
His voice, fuck, his voice, you think, releasing your grip on his hair and turning to watch him rise from his knees, the tile cold against your back. You surge forward to kiss him square on the mouth and he catches you, smiles against you when you part your lips to taste yourself on his tongue.
“Was that good?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, pressing one, two, three more quick kisses to his mouth, before he reaches behind you to turn off the water. “So fucking good.”
Neither of you bother with a towel, instead opting to stumble toward the queen bed in the middle of the room and climb right underneath the covers.
“Hi,” you whisper when you’re settled in, the duvet pulled up under your chin. Your eyes rove over his face, then glance over to the alarm clock behind him. 1:56 in the morning. “You still wanna fuck?”
Tyler snorts, reaching over to poke you in the side, gripping the skin there until you start to laugh. “You still wanna fuck?”
“Yeah,” you reply, grinning, when you catch your breath. “Wanna?”
He’s quiet for a second, watching the duvet rise and fall with each breath you take, before he peels it off of you, using his elbow to push himself up until he’s leaning over you. There’s a rosy flush on your chest, your breasts heaving and it’s all he can do not to lean down and take one of your nipples in his mouth, the one closest to him. Instead, he runs the back of his other hand across your chest, catching against the hard peak, and watches your breath stick to the inside of your throat. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning toward him as his face comes toward you. You want him to kiss you, but instead, he angles his mouth to kiss the skin below your chin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your neck, pressing his open mouth to you there, and you gasp at the feeling – of his mouth against you, and of his praise. It all feels so nice. He just made you come in the shower, and now he’s going to make you come in this bed, hopefully more than once.
You wrap your hands around his back and pull him toward you, watch as he settles in between your thighs. You can feel his thick cock, heavy, insistent, where it presses against you, and you want to take him into your hands, but he has other plans.
With one hand pressed into the pillow on either side of your head, Tyler uses his knees to knock your legs out further, sitting back against his heels when he’s satisfied. He wraps his big hands around your thighs and pulls you closer, smiling down at you. “You’re so beautiful.”
You blush when he repeats himself, suddenly feeling very bare. He’s just as naked as you are, but you can’t help but feel like he’s seen your whole hand, meanwhile you hardly have any idea what cards he might hold. In the dim light from the lamp beside your head, you notice that you can see the green of his irises again. It seems like the shower sobered the two of you up very quickly.
His gaze locked on yours, Tyler takes himself into his hand, groaning at the pressure of his grip after neglecting his own want for so long, but he suddenly curses, pausing just as he’s about to press inside of you.
“What?”
“I don’t have a condom,” he breathes, sitting back again. He runs one hand through his hair, visibly weighing the options.
“It’s okay, Tyler,” you murmur, leaning up onto your elbows. “It’s okay. I have an IUD, and I got screened after the last time I was with someone. I’m good. I’m good if you’re good.”
Tyler heaves a heavy sigh, running his hands up your thighs. “You’re sure? I’m clean, too, cross my heart. But only if you’re sure.”
You nod. “My head is clear. I think I shook off my drunk an orgasm or two ago.”
A grin crosses his face, and you roll your eyes at him before he even opens his mouth. Two? he mouths, then whistles lowly. You smack his stomach, and he grabs your wrist in his hand, lightning quick, pressing a kiss to the pulse point there. Your jaw falls slack, and you go all soft and pliant, letting him pin your hands above your head. His body comes down over yours, and his mouth presses to your cheek, then your forehead, and when your eyes flutter shut, the ghost of a kiss crosses them, too.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he murmurs, and normally if a man were to say that to you, you would immediately regret letting him into your bed. But for some reason, when Tyler says it, it sends that familiar warmth spiraling down into your gut. You know he means it.
Slowly – too slowly – he guides himself back to your entrance, shifting his hips so they’re resting comfortably against yours, and he presses himself inside of you. You hiss; the girth of him, although a welcome stretch, is also a bit of an uncomfortable one. He leans down to kiss you, working you through it with a thumb pressing circles into your clit, sliding himself in bit by bit until he’s fully seated.
A groan pushes out of him when you clench around him, testing the waters.
“Careful,” he murmurs, easing his hips back. “I’d like it if this lasted longer than ten seconds, please.”
You laugh against the side of his head, pull your hands down from where he’d left them above you and wrap yourself around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Tyler grips your thighs and starts to work himself in and out of you, carefully, gently, but you squeeze his waist with your knees. Encouraging him. Asking him to pick it up. You can handle it.
His hips start to pull back and snap against yours quicker and quicker, Tyler panting in your ear, lifting up onto his palms and pushing himself off of you. He sits up onto his knees and tilts your hips up for a different angle, one that sets sparks dancing in front of your eyes. You groan, head tossed back, and dig your nails into his thighs as his pace picks up.
“Fuck, yeah, that it, baby? I can feel you – fuck, feel you squeezin’ me.”
You hardly have a voice with the rate he’s slipping in and out of you, barely enough to squeak out, “Fuck,” before your cunt has him in a vice grip, working through another orgasm.
“Ohhh, that’s it, huh, that’s it.” His mouth is going a mile a minute, neither of you really paying much attention to anything he’s actually saying. You’re both focused on his own mounting orgasm – you don’t feel like your body is capable of much more than that – and you weakly clamp down around him once more. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips stutter, and he grits out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” before he slots against you and you feel him filling you. You run a hand down his back, soothing him as he comes, biting your lip at the feeling, foreign but enjoyable.
Tyler groans and glances down to where his cock is softening inside of you. He eases his hips back, cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your forehead as he does. “Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?”
You nod meagerly, pressing the back of your hand against your warm cheek. He watches you and, assured that you’re not going to pass out on him or anything, stands and hobbles into the bathroom. The sink turns on out of sight, and you close your eyes, listening to the water run. Tyler returns with a warm, wet towel and wipes the inside of your thighs, swiping gently across your cunt, before folding the towel and letting it fall to the floor at your bedside.
You feel loose, calm. Safe. You hardly notice him turn the light off, but you do feel the bed dip beside you as he rejoins you under the covers and pulls you into his arms. You melt against his sturdy chest, his heartbeat under your face a comfort, the rhythmic tick tick tick of it lulling you to sleep. But there’s still one thing you have to know before you can relax completely.
His breathing has started to even out, but he hasn’t snored yet, so you know he’ll still hear you when you ask, “Are you gonna leave?”
He grunts an acknowledgement of your question, nuzzling down into the top of your head.
“Do you want me to stay?”
You know your answer, but you still bite your lip, considering the question. You hadn’t thought before that maybe he left after every night you spent together because he thought you didn’t want to wake up with him. “Yes.”
“Okay,” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll stay.”
If he’s at all worried about what will happen when you wake up tomorrow, he doesn’t show it, but anxiety courses through you at the thought of anyone finding out. Does he want the others to know? Because that’s what it feels like.
“Stop thinking about it,” he whispers, like he can hear your thoughts racing. “It’ll be fine. Just go to sleep.”
Easy for him to say. He’s out like a light. And you’re left alone with your thoughts until you fall into fitful, dissatisfying sleep sometime around when the world outside starts to turn blue.
A pounding on your door wakes you from deep sleep – the deepest you’d gotten all night, at least – and you try to sit up but find there’s a heavy weight on your chest blocking you. You rub the sleep from your eyes, glancing down at the sleeping body next to you. It takes a second for it to register: Tyler’s here.
Tyler’s here. Sidled up against you, arm thrown over your stomach like this is where he belongs. He didn’t leave. He stayed, like he said he would. His face looks so peaceful – so beautiful – you almost hate to wake him.
“Come on, sleepyhead! Time to get a move on!”
Almost. You scramble to push Tyler off of you, ignoring his noises of protest, jumping out from under the covers and grabbing various articles of clothing off the floor to pull over your naked form. You plop back down on the bed, this time on his side, right next to where he’s starting to wake.
“Dude, get up, they’re gonna know you’re not in your room. They’re gonna know you’re in here.”
“So what,” he grumbles, rolling over as you push him and settling deeper into the bed. “Let ‘em.”
You sit up straight, one hand on his arm. “You mean that?”
He hums and turns his neck to glance at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, ‘course I do. You’re my girl.”
Your face flushes a deep pink and Tyler grins, reaching over to wrap an arm around you and drag you back down into the bed, pinning you under him and peppering an assault of open-mouthed kisses all over your face. You grin, thinking that you could get used to this – just not right now.
“Seriously, Tyler,” you laugh, pushing a hand against the side of his face. He squeezes your hip. “We have to get up. We gotta get back out there.”
Tyler sighs, loosening his grip on your body and kneeling over you. “Yeah, you’re right. Alright, alright.”
He stands and takes the top sheet with him, wrapped around his waist, and heads to the bathroom. To brush his teeth, you hope. God.
“You know,” he says, head popping back out into the room, mouth full of toothpaste. “Yesterday. I wanted them to see us holding hands.”
You watch as he smiles at you and disappears back into the bathroom, then fall back onto the bed, hands pressed over your eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are dressed, teeth brushed, hair taken care of, day packs slung over your shoulder, and you’re pulling the door closed behind you when you hear a whistle that pulls your attention to the parking lot.
“Damn, Owens!”
The voice makes you jump, and you groan. You thought you were going to get away with the sneaking around, but the rest of your team is watching from next to the RV as the two of you descend the stairs together.
Lily and Dani turn to Boone with smug looks on both their faces, and he rolls his eyes and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. They hold their hands out for him to slap two twenty dollar bills down into.
“What’s that?” You ask when you get close enough to them.
“We had a bet that you and Owens would come out of that room together. Well, that one or his. Didn’t matter which.”
“A bet I just lost,” Boone groans, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I thought for sure…”
The rest of the crew snickers, including Tyler, who won’t look at you. You poke a finger into his chest.
“Did you know about this?”
“No, I swear,” he says, hands up, and you don’t know why, but you believe him. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t drunkenly confess to Lily weeks ago that sometimes we, you know…”
You scoff, almost mad, but then Boone shouts and the scoff turns into a snicker because, hey, you love him, but you can’t help but relish in his defeat.
“So they knew?! That’s cheating!”
He storms off while the rest of you laugh, Dani clutching their side and following him around the side of the building to try to make amends, trailing off, “If it makes you feel any better…”
Lily looks over at you, then at Tyler, a grin swallowing her face. “So, are you guys, like, together now? Or something?”
You look up at Tyler, who’s smiling softly at you, clearly deferring to you to answer that question. You feel a surge of affection for him swell in your chest. Clearing your throat, you turn to Lily.
“Or something.”
#twisters#twisters 2024#twisters movie#glen powell#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens smut#glen powell x reader#glen powell smut#as a former tyler dater this was soooo triggering for me to write#JFNLKQJBNF
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DUAL LIFE — s.jaeyun
PAIRING: mafiaboss!jake x fem!reader GENRES: smut, angst, slight fluff WC: 10.8k+
WARNINGS: swearing, mention of drugs and illicit things, mafia stuff, jake implicitly jealous, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected sex (do it safely, please). lmk if i missed anything else.
SYNOPSIS: being a serious and respected businessman was the only side of him that jaeyun wanted you to know, afraid that he would let you into his life and, over time, you would get to know not only sim jaeyun, but also sim jake, the mafia boss.
NOTES: idk how, but i thought about it for a day and just wrote it down. i let my mind run wild and wanted something completely different for jake, so here it is. i hope you like it!
part 2 | masterlist
The corporate environment could be challenging and misogynistic when a woman holds a position of great power. At first, the fear hit you hard when your name was molded onto a plaque and, below it, the title of the boss was stamped. But alongside all this, you found yourself supported by your colleague and partner Sim Jaeyun. The first man who saw you with respect, who treated you like a boss and a partner, who handed you demands with the same intensity as he handed demands to other men in the company.
He was incredible when he signed the contract to share that company with you. And it was a good deal because once your name was linked to Jaeyun's, everything inside that building seemed to be moving perfectly toward success. Numbers and shares grew faster and faster, and meetings were shared late into the night where you and Jaeyun reviewed what you had done so far, whether you needed to change any strategies in your approaches, and how you two could take the next step.
You were surprised every time because even though he was there for everything, his word was always final. Jaeyun seemed to want your approval even if his vision was the opposite of yours. It was as if your permission was worth more than his, even though you saw him think for a while before making any decisions. Carefully and cautiously when he asked you about shares and employees, about investments, and what he should do, he was careful and very intelligent, but in his view, you were so much more. So having your approval before his was more important.
This meant that the two of you shared more time than necessary, apart from being in the office. Jaeyun constantly calls you to have dinner and go over some papers when, in reality, the two of you did everything but go over papers. Or when he called you for coffee in the middle of the day to de-stress from an annoying client in question, you gladly accepted because the combination of his company and a hot coffee was all you needed after a moment like that.
What started as routine things became a little different when Jaeyun became warmer towards you at work. It was hard to tell at first since he was always very professional and the looks you got from him were either approving ones or small smiles after a good idea in the corporate environment. You never noticed anything more than that. Until that moment. Where he made a point of touching your hand when he sat next to you, reaching for your pen while he was resting on the other side. Or when Jaeyun would gently rest his hand on your lower back so that you would enter the rooms before him as if he would lose sight of you at any moment even though the room was quite large and there was no way he could lose sight of you.
Dinners no longer had the excuse of work stuff, Jaeyun just wanted to go out and talk to you about everything other than shares, money, and boring investors. He wanted to know more about you, he wanted to hear you tell stories and he wanted to share his too. However, in this respect, you could feel him wavering a little as if he was afraid to talk about something he shouldn't have.
In your mind, Jaeyun had something difficult he was dealing with, so he tended to be more reserved about it, but you learned enough about him as the dinners became weekly. Every detail about his life – which he managed to share with you – and every quirk you picked up on as the two of you spent more time together. Jaeyun was a little box of surprises that you were trying to unravel little by little.
But as things naturally grew closer between you and him, something about the boy's behavior caught your attention. From time to time Jaeyun seemed more scattered at meetings, as if his mind was anywhere but on the words of an old, gray-haired man talking about work. Or how dinners between the two of you became the company cafeteria, him refusing – politely – to go out with you with the excuse that he was too tired. But at the same time, he didn't want to break his silent promise that you and he would share a meal at least once a week.
That didn't bother you, after all, you still had his company even if the dishes varied from pasta with fancy sauce to ramen that he asked an employee to pick up at the corner convenience store. That wasn't so important, at least Jaeyun was sitting in front of you with a faint smile and talking about how hard his day had been and how he wanted to go home and be with his dog.
Everything changed that night. You did everything in your routine, working tirelessly in your office while receiving a few emails from Jaeyun to line up a thing here and there. Answering a few calls and dealing with the staff as best you could. After you finished work, you just wanted to be in the cafeteria and try another flavor of ramen that Jaeyun had bought, claiming that you would love it. Your mouth was already starting to salivate because you knew he could find the most unusual flavors, always impressing you with the smallest things.
But your heart sank when the door to your living room opened, revealing Jaeyun and a grocery bag. Everything happened slowly before your eyes, even though the scene itself was so fast.
“I can't stay today” Jaeyun's voice snapped you out of your reverie, the bag placed on your desk while his hands were now hidden inside the tailored pants he was wearing.
“Why? Did something happen?” you asked, trying not to sound disappointed enough for him to see that he had messed with you.
But what you didn't know was that Jaeyun knew you as well as you knew yourself. Your every expression, tone of voice, everything. He knew exactly how you felt, perhaps because he was the same way, but also because he watched you too much.
“Some personal problems” he sighed softly, looking away from the bag to you “I brought you the ramen, so you can try it and tell me what you think.”
Jaeyun tried to smile to lighten the mood, taking his hands out of his pockets to fiddle with the bag and take out the bowl, showing you the new flavor he'd found. You bit your lower lip to keep from letting out a sigh or saying something you shouldn't have. Your heart was strangely bothered by it.
“It's no fun without you, Jaeyun” was the most you could say without sounding desperate or showing too much.
He felt the weight of everything fall on him as his eyes fell to the pot of ramen, seeing a spark of sadness shine in your eyes as your hands touched his and took the pot from his hand. Putting it back in the bag, you closed it and pushed it towards him.
“I—” Jaeyun turned away from your table, not wanting the ramen packets back “I'm sorry, Y/n. I really have to go.”
“Jaeyun—”
He was afraid that if he heard you say anything, he'd stay for dinner with you. That's what he wanted most. But he couldn't. Jaeyun had to leave as soon as possible before everything went to shit. So, just as quickly as he entered your office, he left and closed the door before he heard anything else come out of your mouth.
You stood there at your desk, staring at the bag that had been left there. It was the first night since you two started eating together that he didn't stay. The first night that Jaeyun barely looked at you before saying goodbye. He didn't even touch your hand as he did when he picked you up for dinner or coffee. He was so distant that it seemed like you didn't recognize him.
Meanwhile, Jaeyun was racing against time to try to balance the double life he was leading. Getting involved with you wasn't in his plans, not least because corporate life was just a façade for him, so the moment he found himself nurturing any feelings for you, he knew he was screwed. Jaeyun couldn't fall in love, but he also couldn't help feeling it when everything seemed natural when he was with you. Your presence made him forget all the bad things he experienced outside that office. That is there he was Sim Jaeyun, your partner and someone who was slowly taking over your heart.
But unfortunately, that couldn't be forever and he knew it. Leaving the elevator and walking hurriedly to his car, he took off his jacket and threw it on the passenger seat, the place where you had sat countless times in your work clothes as beautiful as any woman he had ever seen in his life. That symbolic place belonged to you, even if he didn't want to admit it. Jaeyun let his head fall back against the steering wheel of the car, uttering swear words that he remembered and that made his body explode with rage.
He wanted to be Sim Jaeyun forever. Your partner, the man who was slowly making you fall in love.
But leaving there he was Jake, one of the mob bosses who was now rushing to help his friends with new charges and problems coming up.
The sound of his fingers drumming on the marble of the table was a little louder than usual. Jaeyun tried hard not to show how annoyed – and angry – he was to be there that night. He knew it would be impossible to hide from his friends how much he disliked being there, but at the same time, he couldn't forget what an authority figure he was there too.
“Are you in a bad mood?” he heard Sunghoon's voice cut through the air, entering the room with all the grace he had compared to the other boys. Jaeyun sighed, stopping his drumming to slide his hand to the glass in front of him and drink all the liquid it contained. He wasn't sure what it was, but he would thank Heeseung later for putting in the highest alcohol content he could find.
“Don't tease me, Park” he replied after feeling the burning go down his throat.
Sunghoon laughed a little and sat down next to Heeseung, facing Jaeyun.
“I asked you a question, bro” he said, “Why are you in such a bad mood? Jay and San have already managed to corner those idiots and take what they tried to steal from us.”
Looking at it that way, Jaeyun could be relieved. Smuggling drugs wasn't something he was proud of doing, but he knew how respected he was for carrying on his father's work as well as he would have liked. At the time, Sim wished he hadn't been so good and just stuck to executive work, without getting involved with the family mafia. But he knew how much confidence his late father had and how much he wanted Jaeyun to take over.
“I know, it's just—”
“He's mad because we ruined his date with his girlfriend” Heeseung winked at Sunghoon, who quickly understood everything.
“Shit, tonight was the night of your romantic dinner.”
“It's not a romantic dinner” Jaeyun tried to make amends.
“I told us not to call him, damn it, Heeseung” Sunghoon pretended to be angry, knowing that there was no way not to call Jaeyun. This was of a gigantic magnitude and even though the two of them were his right-hand man, they couldn't make decisions without consulting him first. A form of respect for their best friend, who had taken them in even after taking on a dangerous and important position.
“What did you want me to do?” Heeseung tried to defend himself, sliding down the back of the chair and running one hand through his hair “They tried to rob us” he continued “My only thought was to run to the shed and stop it, but I couldn't do that without Jake's approval.”
Jaeyun listened intently as the conversation unfolded in front of him. Heeseung and Sunghoon knew that they had complete freedom when it came to any decision, especially if Jaeyun was playing the role of partner in a big company. Wearing a suit and tie, expensive tailoring, and with you by his side. It was a persona he wanted to maintain, even though reality hit him every time he received a call from his best friends informing him of something concerning his second job.
He ran a hand through his hair, the sting of the drink gradually fading from his throat as he looked at the two boys still talking.
An absurd urge to disappear and leave the business to the two of them, to run to the office because Jaeyun knew you'd still be there working, eating the ramen he'd left for you. A strange tightness in his chest made him sigh. He had left you alone for the first time after everything had happened. It wasn't because he wanted to, but Jaeyun was afraid of involving you in the second life he was leading. He didn't want to put you in danger, make you go out to dinner with glances lingering between the two of you.
That life brought Jaeyun and his friends a lot of good things, but just as many bad things. He walked around with plainclothes security guards all the time, but it wasn't as if he could do that for you without your permission. It would be handed to him on a plate to tell you about his life in the mafia because on what pretext would Jaeyun say he wanted to offer you private security? It wasn't as if it was necessary for the life of a company boss. No one would want to hurt you for that. So with his lack of creativity in coming up with an excuse, he found himself doing the one thing he didn't want to do: hide you.
Dinner in the company cafeteria was safer than parading around with you by his side, even though it was the only thing he wanted at that moment more than anything. Holding your hand again with the excuse that the restaurant was full and he didn't want to let you out of his sight. That may have been true, but a large part of it was because he was worried that someone in disguise might harm you.
Jaeyun had declared enemies and he knew what some were capable of. Anything could be done against him, but no one should lay a finger on you.
“Jake!” Heeseung's shout brought him out of his thoughts quickly, blinking hard to regain awareness that he'd been immersed in his thoughts for too long “Dude, do you have her on your mind again?”
“At least disguise it” Sunghoon muttered.
“I think I'm going to shoot your ass, you idiot” Jaeyun pointed at his friend, getting up from his chair.
“Calm down man, I'm kidding” he said “Messing with her really puts you in a bad mood.”
Jaeyun ignored it because he had no way of refuting it. He realized that everything that involved him made his nerves frayed and his feelings more acute. It wasn't as if he could control what he felt. If he could, Jaeyun would have chosen not to involve any feelings because he wanted to protect you. But the next thing he knew, any little detail about you made him lose his mind. He wanted to keep you close, he wanted to feel you, he wanted to have you even if it meant risking everything.
A remnant of conscience made him keep his touches a little simpler, although he felt the absurd urge to grab your waist and feel your lips pressed to his.
“I'm going to check what Jay's got so far” Heeseung got up too, passing the seats and going around the table to leave the room “Any news I'll let you two know, so keep an eye on the phones” and left.
Now with Sunghoon being the only presence in the room besides him, Jaeyun felt the weight of everything almost crush him. His friend's gaze almost pierced his insides because he knew how Sim felt. Sunghoon had a better view of Jaeyun's feelings than the other two.
“Sit down” he said when he saw his best friend lost in thought, barely able to utter a word apart from opening and closing his mouth a few times. Obeying, Jaeyun sat back in his chair “What's going on?”
What about? He wanted to ask but knew it was a waste of time. There was nothing Park Sunghoon couldn't figure out. So the other just sighed, leaning back even further in his chair and closing his eyes.
“I shouldn't have liked her in the first place” it was almost natural to let it out, as if he wanted Sunghoon to hear those words “Things should be professional, I should just focus on the actions and nothing else. Then go back home, deal with the mafia problems my father left behind, and later think about marrying the daughter of some other mafia boss.”
“Better than marrying Y/n?” Sunghoon asked.
It was strange that his best friends spoke your name. This was proof that the two worlds Jaeyun lived in were colliding. Then he opened his eyes, wanting to scream out everything that had been squeezing his chest for the last few hours.
“That's what happened to my father, I just—”
“It doesn't have to happen to you” Sunghoon interrupted him with a certain kindness, although there was none in his tone. He still looked at his best friend as he said each word with deep sincerity “You fell in love with her and you have to go with that. Make Y/n part of your life like Sim Jaeyun and—”
“Don't even finish it” it was his turn to interrupt him “I would never bring her to meet Jake Sim.”
“But if you two got engaged, sooner or later she'd find out about the double life you lead, man” Jaeyun hated how certain Sunghoon seemed about anything. He was the most rational when it came to work and personal life and always had the best advice. He was responsible for not letting any of his three best friends commit any kind of madness.
“This can't happen” his hands ran frantically through his hair, messing up every strand that Jaeyun managed to get his fingers through. He wanted to pull them out of his head in a moment of small sanity but came back to reality when he heard Sunghoon's voice next.
“Maybe you don't need to tell her at first, but it might make Jaeyun's life a little more enjoyable” he said calmly, “You really are falling for her, we can see that.”
We. Jaeyun had always been good at hiding his feelings, from the prettiest to the worst, from his friends. Or so he thought since he had to swallow so much just to make his father proud and be where he was at that moment. Bringing Sunghoon, Jongseong, and Heeseung with him was a baggage of confidence and a remnant of the normal life he had before getting involved in the family business. The only three people in his circle who knew everything, who never judged him, and were always there for Jaeyun. The best childhood friends who stuck together, and that in itself made them get to know more about each other every day.
That's why the three of you could see Jaeyun slowly falling in love with you. Although the words never left his mouth, the way he talked about you could already be deduced from afar. The sparkle in his eyes when he opened a message from you on the meeting table in the room as Jake Sim. The spark of a feeling emerged as he replied sweetly. When the boys attended a company dinner as fake investors, talking to you about the profit they could generate for your and Jaeyun's company. The reality was that they were there at Sim's request to check if anyone was a possible suspected smuggler or rival since his name had been talked about so much in the city at the famous dinner. He was afraid of someone showing up and ruining the double life he had fought so hard to hide.
It was the first and only time the three of them had met and talked to you, but it was enough to see the way Jaeyun looked at you. How he behaved next to you and the tired sighs he released throughout the night as each man approached you. Before, your name was a legend to them, Sim Jaeyun's lousy partner in the company, but when they saw you in person, it all seemed to make sense.
Now we know why Jake fell in love so easily, Heeseung almost lost his teeth when he made that comment inside the shed, after counting out three hundred and eight suitcases of cash. Payment for the container of drugs they had distributed. Jongseong was in charge of separating his best friend so that he wouldn't beat Heeseung to a pulp, while Sunghoon calmly intervened.
Everything went so slowly until he realized that he had fallen too hard for you. In the feelings he was having for you.
“What can I do about it now?” Jaeyun finally looked at Sunghoon, really looked at him. Looking for an answer and no longer wanting to run away from what mattered at that moment.
“How about making amends and asking her to dinner?” he asked.
“I don't want to go out with her and be seen— You know, I don't know who might be following me…”
“Come on Jake, how many men do you have doing security for your dead father's mafia?” he glared at his friend, always teased by the way Jaeyun didn't like to say that it was all his now. It would be easier to say that it still belonged to his late father, that all those men followed the command of Mr. Sim, to whom Jaeyun gave his voice. He didn't like to be called boss, although it happened at the teasing of his friends.
“Many” Jaeyun answered him.
“Then put them in charge of her security once a week” Sunghoon swiveled in his chair, his eyes never leaving Jaeyun's for a second “We have enough men to put in one a week without her noticing, and you'll still be able to go out with her in peace.”
He seemed to ponder this for a moment. He didn't want to be awkward about mentioning to you that men were escorting you for your safety, after all, he was afraid that something would happen to you even if the two of you had no involvement whatsoever.
“That's a very good idea, Hoon, but—”
“There's no such thing, you know it's the only way if you want to have something with her.”
For a while longer he seemed to think about the possibility. It wasn't as if Jaeyun was hiding something terrible from you, not least because he would be looking out for your safety. He'd also be freer to go out with you again for the dinners you two shared during the weeks.
“Not to mention that if you and she start dating, the security will be doubled, don't you think?” Sunghoon stood up from his chair “Everyone will know about her if something gets serious.”
That was Jaeyun's fear, that everyone would know about you besides him and his best friends. In that world where he was Jake Sim, there was no way anything could be hidden. It wasn't like the world where Jaeyun could get away with it under an expensive suit and a lot of stock. He sighed heavily, throwing his head back without the strength to continue the conversation. Knowing how right his best friend was.
“Right, thanks for the advice, anyway” Jaeyun asked.
“At your service” Sunghoon smiled “Are you going to stay there now? I'll check on Heeseung if Jay needs any help too…”
“I'll stay a while longer, I'll be going soon” he said, still sitting down because his body seemed to be weighed down by the barrage of information and advice thrown at him in such a short space of time.
Sunghoon walked to the door of the room, opened it, and turned to Jaeyun with a playful, silly smile on his face.
“Yes sir, boss” giving a mock salute, he ran off before Jaeyun could gather up a load of papers to throw in his direction, but Sunghoon was quick to close the door. Not before hearing the other swear at him for his provocations.
Jaeyun got to know you little by little, his first impression being of you as a strong and fearless woman. Someone he could easily work with among the men who underestimated you and who made him feel angry. Little by little, he noticed how easy it was to live with you and how you could read between the lines when things were happening. He was surprised when he started to notice the moment you felt uncomfortable in a meeting or in the presence of a man who tried to put you down, or how he could understand how bothered and angry you were with some stupid comment or action that had gone wrong.
Over time, he realized that he knew a lot about you just by interacting with you professionally. But when he decided to take a step and invite you to dinner, under the pretext of reviewing something from work, Jaeyun knew he was ruined. He knew that the first sincere smile you gave him had ruined and torn down any barrier he had built over the years in an attempt to not bring anyone into the dark and double world of his life. Jaeyun didn't want you to be a part of that.
So trying to push you away and keep you safe was the first and only thought he had, swallowing the physical and carnal desire that consumed him for wanting to have you in his arms. He couldn't afford to make the mistake of going around glimpsing you and your beauty, enjoying life as a couple that he knew was dangerous.
Sim Jaeyun was a good man, but Sim Jake was the opposite of that. And between the two personas he found himself divided on what to do because he knew that in both his lives, he was in love with you. It was the only thing he couldn't separate.
He knew it was too late to try to make Sunghoon's advice count for anything. Arriving at the office the next day, Jaeyun knew he had screwed up when he saw the bag of ramen on his desk, the two untouched pots very well placed next to the papers he needed to fill out during the day. What surprised him was the way you treated him throughout the week.
Professionalism took over again and you were the Y/n he had met when he joined that company and took on the role of being his partner. He saw the old woman with whom he had shared the management of that building and whom he had always admired – later he had fallen in love – and now he was back to the beginning. At least you, because he felt that he was falling more and more into your charms and letting his feelings take over.
It wasn't easy that you were monosyllabic in meetings, your gaze never meeting his, and every time you both needed to talk about any decision, you said you were busy and asked Jaeyun to talk to your secretary. You were running away, he knew that. So it could only mean that, besides being upset about him leaving you that night, something told you that you also had feelings for him.
Because no one would be upset about canceling a dinner. Even with the shitty excuse he gave you, if neither of you had feelings for each other, Jaeyun wouldn't have been frustrated to get Heeseung's call that night and you wouldn't have been upset to see him leave without even eating with you and then leaving.
It was a silent competition of who was handling it the worst way possible.
But he didn't know that jealousy was being added to the mix when he saw a new investor smile at you. How bold he was to approach you after the meeting, in the coffee room, and ask if you wanted to go out for something to eat.
I've seen this happen before, idiot. Don't even try. That's what he hoped the look would convey, but Jaeyun forgot that you hadn't looked in his direction for a few days, trying to ignore him as best you could. That's why you accepted the invitation. A little hesitantly because it had never happened before, other than Jaeyun, it was the first time that any man inside that building had invited you for something other than your partner. At that moment, after so many days, you looked in his direction, afraid of what you might feel when your eyes met. But seeing the discomfort on Sim's face seemed to give you some satisfaction.
“I still have a few more things to take care of, so—” the man extended a hand to you, gently holding yours. His touch was gentle and you tried to smile a little wider, looking away from Jaeyun to the boy in front of you “Do you mind meeting at the restaurant on the corner in half an hour?”
“No. It’s okay” you replied, feeling him squeeze your hand and lean in to kiss your torso, pulling away and letting go of your hand. He smiled at you once more, returning to the circle of men that was in the other corner of the room to say goodbye and do what he had to do.
You thought you should chat with your employees after a meeting, have some coffee like you always did, and then go to your office. But Jaeyun’s gaze was starting to make you feel strange. He didn’t miss a single movement of yours, from the moment you moved to get a cup of coffee to when you approached your secretary to whisper to him.
“I’m going to my office” you said quietly, not wanting to make a fuss with anyone. “I’ll be leaving for dinner soon, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am” he smiled at you, looking away to Jaeyun and swallowing hard. Your secretary had always been a bit wary of the man who was staring at you, but since there had never been any disagreements, that was passed on as he showed himself to be completely professional.
Jaeyun had never felt jealous until this moment, watching you gracefully leave the room and close the door.
It was all his fault and the idiotic way he tried to push you away even though he wanted to keep you close. Now, not knowing how to act, Jaeyun had to witness that scoundrel of someone asking you out and, worst of all, you accept it.
Something settled inside him and, without measuring any effort, he walked out the door quickly to your office. His mind had never worked well under pressure, whether from anger or jealousy like it was now. Jaeyun had never been jealous, after all, he had never met anyone who aroused that kind of feeling in him. It was like an urban legend or only hearing about the romantic stories that Jongseong and Sunghoon had here and there. But he had never felt that in his life.
When he stopped in front of your office door, his heartbeat almost rose to his ears as adrenaline and anxiety ran through him. Jaeyun didn't know how he would act after finding you in your office and confronting you. He knew something would happen, you could feel the tension in the air every time the two of you were in the same room, he just didn't know how intense it was. He had a slight impression, but he couldn't decipher you from that yet.
He decided not to knock, gripping the door handle and turning around without beating around the bush, entering right away before you could say anything else.
“What—” you quickly turned around from the table, where you had been facing away until then, packing your things and ready to leave. Your heart almost jumped out of your mouth at the sight of Jaeyun standing in the middle of your living room. The thud of the door as it closed went unnoticed by your ears and the only sound was your own racing heart. “Jaeyun?”
He approached slowly, one step at a time as he thought about what to say or how to act. You could tell how fast his chest was rising and falling due to the rapid breathing from the fright he had gotten seconds ago.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to stay calm as he continued to approach. The steps stopped just a few inches away when he cornered you between his body and your table, making your body almost bend over if it weren’t for your hands being quick enough to hold on to the edge of the table.
“You’re not going to this dinner” the authority in his tone of voice made your legs tremble, but you were grateful to hold yourself firmly against the table and your hands tightened their grip on the edge. Jaeyun still had the ability and knowledge to read you so perfectly that when he saw your mouth open – probably with the intention of asking why – he was faster and leaned in to press his lips to yours.
He expected anything: a slap, a sudden pull away, a loud curse that could echo throughout the building. But the surprise came when you let go of the edge of the table to spread your hands against his chest, slowly moving up until you grabbed the collar of the shirt he was wearing, pulling him closer to you.
You were an amazing woman and he knew it, every single thing you did drove him crazy. And feeling you pulling him between your legs, giving way by opening your lips and welcoming his tongue and tangling it with yours.
Everything seemed magical to Jaeyun and you. Each touch took its time, something that had been repressed until now. He brought his hands to your hips, keeping you in place as he made a small effort to lift you up and sit you on the table.
Your pride in trying to ignore him was going down the drain more and more, as Jaeyun intensified that kiss and moaned against your lips. You should have pushed him away and gotten out of there when it was time, but now it was too late. He was tangled between your legs and his hands were doing a great job squeezing you and sliding down to your lower back to slide down to your ass. It was your turn to moan against his lips, your nails going inside the collar of his shirt and scratching his shoulder to mark something against the skin you wanted so much to know.
“Jaeyun” you whispered breathlessly and he swore that was the best sound he had ever heard in his life. Pulling his lips away from yours to get some air for his lungs, he let you ramble on as he lowered his mouth down your jaw. Feeling the taste of your skin and the texture of it between his lips, marking a path of saliva until it reached your neck.
“Yes, babe?” Jaeyun had no idea how much he moved you, because if he did, he would never call you by that nickname in the form of a whisper, while still kissing your skin and sucking a good amount of it between his lips. The pop noise he left after a long suck, certainly leaving the spot marked a few minutes later.
“I need—” you wanted to say that you needed to go, that this would be a provocation on his part. But your mind wasn’t working right and it didn’t help that he started pressing his hips against yours. “Holy shit” you moaned softly, the hardness of Jaeyun’s cock slowly making the right pressure against your still-clothed clit. You couldn’t say how he had the exact notion of where to press and how to press.
“I already told you that you won’t, Y/n” Jaeyun gasped against your neck, moving his kisses up and trailing the tip of his tongue across your skin until his face was level with yours again.
That sight was hell on earth for you. Jaeyun with his lips red and shiny from the kiss they had just shared, adding to the kisses and hickeys on your skin. His eyes drooping and dark with desire staring at you with a possessiveness you never thought you would know. You wanted to be able to say something, but it was impossible while you had his hands on your shoulders now.
“Tell me if this is too much, okay?” What did he mean by that? What was Jaeyun thinking when he asked you that kind of thing? It was already too much to have felt his kiss in a situation like that, but you were sure that it was too much to have his fingers unbuttoning the buttons of your shirt.
Every particle of your skin is exposed for his eyes to admire even more. You were never one to wear low-cut tops at work and his sanity was grateful for that, so he didn't know what to do as each button was undone until he reached below your breasts.
“Shit” he cursed softly, praying that you wouldn't hear the hint of vulnerability in his voice as he noticed the light lace adorning your breasts. They were beautiful and he didn't want to think about anything else but touching them. But Jaeyun didn't want to rush, he needed to feel you because he had been depriving himself of it for so long and almost lost.
When the last button was undone, he bit his lower lip to keep from moaning at the sight of you naked in front of him, sitting on the table with his body between your legs. Jaeyun would be lying if he said he had never thought about being in that position with you, or any other, where only his cock inside you and your voice moaning his name would be enough for any scenario to be propitious. He felt like a pervert for it, but there was no denying the desire that radiated inside him every time you showed up.
Leaning down, Jaeyun left a kiss in the space between your neck and your collarbone, enjoying the sounds you made and smiling against your skin when he didn't hear any objections from you. This meant he could continue with the kisses until he reached the curve of your breast, tracing the outline with the tip of his tongue. He looked up, seeking eye contact with you and when he did, he knew he was where he belonged. The way you looked at him, the tense and longing expression you maintained as you held his gaze was all he needed.
“Can I continue?” he asked.
“Please, yes” you answered, nibbling on your lower lip at the same moment that Jaeyun's teeth slid over the lace of your bra, lowering the fabric enough to expose your chest. He was on the verge of madness to taste every part of you, but desire consumed him with every reaction you had to his touch.
The tip of Jaeyun's tongue circled your exposed nipple, making a moan run through the room as it slipped out of your throat. He felt his cock tighten even more in his pants with each sound you made. His hands – which had previously remained calm when touching you – now impatiently ran over your shoulders to remove your shirt with a quick tug, going to the middle of your back to unbutton your bra and rip it off your body as well. Turning his attention back to your breasts, he sucked your nipple with such desire while his large hand covered the other and squeezed to feel its softness.
You were on cloud nine, his every touch coated with possessiveness and desire, making your head spin as you felt Jaeyun's warm tongue against your nipple. The silent sucking compared to the sound of your moans, while your hands quickly went to his hair to pull the strands as a sign that he would never stop what he was doing.
But he also didn't intend to take his mouth off your body. If Jaeyun could talk at that moment, he would tell you how good it was feeling every part of your skin, hearing every one of your moans, and he still hadn't done half of the things he wanted to do with you.
Missing your mouth, he went up to your lips again to share another kiss, this time a little more sloppy and slobbery. Your tongues ran against each other for dominance while your mouths fit perfectly, the synchrony of the movements making you both gasp into each other's mouths.
Jaeyun's hands went to your hips again, but this time his speed and strength came to the advantage as he took off your skirt along with your panties. At another time you could notice how skilled he was and wonder – or not – why he was in such a hurry or knew how to do it so quickly. But now you just wanted to focus on the cold air of the room hitting your pussy and how Jaeyun released your lips with a lewd and wet noise.
It never crossed your mind that Sim Jaeyun, your partner, the man you had seen many times seriously across the room – regardless of the number of times you had dinner together – and for whom you were harboring feelings, would now be kneeling in front of you. He was perdition personified in that submissive and vulnerable position. His eyes were bright, like a puppy begging for a reward. And you knew that what he wanted, besides making up for lost time, was to be between your legs like that.
A mutual and wordless agreement between you and Jaeyun was drawn at that moment, with him slowly approaching your pussy and you opening your legs enough to accommodate him even more. As a test, he stretched out his tongue and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clitoris, collecting your essence and feeling your taste linger on the tip of the wet muscle that he passed through your entire intimacy.
“Fuck, Jaeyun” you tilted your head back, the deliciously warm sensation of his tongue licking your pussy was too much to handle. His hands wrapped around your thighs and held them wide open as he licked a little more, seeming to be hungry as he collected a little more of your essence.
You rested your hands in his hair, your legs feeling like jelly as Jaeyun moved a little further. He focused on sucking on your clit, circling his tongue over the sensitive bud as he looked up to try to catch some reaction from you. Your head was thrown back, but he wanted you to look at him, just once. Just once to see him eat you like a good meal.
“Look at me, Y/n” Jaeyun asked hoarsely, pulling his lips away from your pussy to get your attention. You wanted to pull his hair and bury his face in your pussy again, the lack of contact with your clit made you whimper softly, it was a great torture. But you had to obey if you wanted to feel him again, so your head lifted, your eyes searching his to find the sinful sight.
There was no way Jaeyun could be that desirous more than anything else, it was impossible that that man could look so good in any position or situation. You almost cursed him if it weren't for how quickly he maintained eye contact as he approached your pussy again. This time he sucked you more slowly, drawing circles on your clit and maintaining eye contact, not losing a single second of his eyes on yours. He moved one of his hands away from your leg to slide between your folds, introducing his index finger into your hole.
“I— Fuck, don't do this” you pressed yourself against his finger, the introduction being too much for you. He wanted to fuck you so badly now, with your moaning and your eyes nearly closing, it was torturous to keep them open as he inserted the second finger and continued to suck on your clit.
The movements were now combined quickly, making him alternate between scissoring movements and rotating his fingers inside you, at the same second he sucked your clitoris and ran the tip of his tongue over your pussy, opening your lips so he could spread his saliva along with your essence. The wet sound of his fingers going back and forth inside you, Jaeyun's prominent knuckles almost making you come undone right there. Your walls sucked him so deliciously that he wanted to feel his cock being buried inside you and how hot it would be to be inside there.
The thought alone made Jaeyun feel his underwear get wet, he knew that his pre-cum was almost overcoming the tailoring of the pants he was wearing. It was already too much to have to endure all of that without being able to feel the slightest relief in his cock. But when he decided to introduce the third finger inside your pussy, it was as if he had seen the vision of heaven. Your head fell back again, you couldn't keep your eyes on him.
“Y/n, look—”
“Come up here, please,” you begged. He gave your clit one last kiss as if to taste you one last time before moving up his body to be close to you again. His fingers continued to work your pussy harder and harder as it clenched around his sliding, wet digits.
When Jaeyun brought his face closer to yours, you didn’t wait for any response other than to place your lips on his, sharing the taste of you that lingered on his lips. It was all so intense as your body shuddered and the knot in your stomach broke. You hugged Jaeyun’s body between your arms and held him by the hips between your legs, your pussy convulsing on his fingers as his mouth muffled the most obscene and loud moans you could make calling his name. Cumming on his fingers so hard that all of your liquid easily ran down the palm of his hand.
He wanted you to take the time you needed to catch your breath, the intensity of your orgasm taking over every cell in your body as he was careful enough to pull his fingers out of your pussy. You moaned and whimpered, the lack of contact making you feel empty and weak, but something sparked in you when Jaeyun pulled away enough to bring his fingers to his lips, licking the length of his cock until he reached the palm of his hand.
“I knew you tasted amazing” he whispered, completely cleaning up what had been your orgasm liquid until there was nothing left.
You pulled him back to you, running your thumb over his chin that held more of your liquid. Jaeyun smiled slowly as he felt your soft touch, your fingers sliding down it until they reached the waistband of his pants.
“Y/n, don’t—”
“Shhh, it’s okay” you kissed his jaw, your lips slowly sliding down Jaeyun’s neck to part of his exposed collarbone “It must hurt, huh?”
“No” he lied, moaning the second your hands undid his belt and opened his zipper so his cock would be less tight. He wasn’t good at that kind of lie per se, but he wasn’t stupid enough to want to demand too much from you either, considering the intensity of your orgasm, Jaeyun was already happy to see you satisfied like that.
“We can make this less painful for you” your voice whispered so sensually that he almost came undone right there, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he felt your mouth kiss him, right in the middle of his throat. “Put that down for me” your request was an order that had no objection, so Jaeyun quickly pushed his pants along with his underwear, his cock jumping out and hitting against his pelvis and stomach. Your eyes quickly scanned down, seeing the size of it and sighing at the thought of it being inside you in a few seconds.
“Y/n” Jaeyun moaned, an absurd need to have any kind of touch from you against him. Then your fingers quickly went to the head of his cock, red and shiny with pre-cum, spreading all the liquid with the sole purpose of stimulating him and teasing him a little. “What the fuck, shit” he cursed.
It was too much to suffer, considering that Jaeyun had been untouched for a long time, even more so after hearing your moans and seeing what your body was capable of with just a few touches from him. Impatience took over and he pulled his shirt by the collar, not bothering to undo any buttons, he just wanted to get rid of any piece that held him and feel the heat of your body against his.
“I want—” he moaned again, pushing his hips against the palm of your hand when you held the base and went down the entire length, masturbating his veiny and thick cock between your fingers. Jaeyun wanted nothing more than to feel your touch and what you were making him feel.
“What do you want?” you asked, your lips still against the skin of his throat, slowly sliding down to one of his ears to whisper the words. He spread his hands on your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and pulling your body over the table so that he was at the edge of it. Your hips and your pussy are a little more exposed to him.
“I want to be inside you, Y/n. I— fuck” Jaeyun knew he was being a mess just moaning and fucking your fist as your hand tightened more and more on his cock. Spreading the pre-cum all over the length until it reached the base.
He went crazy when you leaned in enough for a ball of saliva to escape between your lips and slide down to the head of his cock, spreading some of it along the length with your – almost–perfect aim. That helped spread it even more across Jaeyun’s cock and he couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much for him and the boy was afraid he would explode in his hand and cum right there. It would be shameful to do this without him being inside you, even for a few seconds.
“Y/n, please…” it was his turn to beg now. The feared Sim Jake would never do this, would never be in this role, much less Sim Jaeyun. Both respected and feared, but now he just wanted to be yours and beg for whatever you had to offer.
Without further provocation, you knew how painful it was for him. And your pussy got wet again just from the sounds he made and the unfolding of the scene in front of you. Positioning his cock at your entrance, it was a silent invitation for him to insert himself into your hole. Your hands left there to hold him, one on each side of his neck, letting Jaeyun lead the movements.
Slowly he thrust his cock into you, the warmth of your pussy and the wetness of your juices being enough to shelter him so well and facilitate the entrance of his cock that you swore it would not be possible to fit. Soon he was all the way inside you, his breathing uneven as he finally had his cock shoved into your pussy.
“How do you feel?” Jaeyun uttered with some difficulty, his chest rising and falling quickly as he leaned his body towards you.
“Amazing” you tried not to moan, pulling his face close to yours so that his forehead rested on yours. “You can move now” your request, again, became an order when Jaeyun finally moved his hips to remove his cock and leave only the head inside you, returning with a slow but strong movement. His pelvis touching your clit with the movement.
He could no longer hold back his good manners and the desire to go slowly, wanting to make you feel every time his cock entered and left your pussy. Jaeyun pressed his fingers into your thighs, leaving marks that could be seen later as his nails dug into your skin, gaining momentum to start the movements. The sounds of skin slapping and the wetness of both your arousals are the perfect symphony accompanied by the moans that you and he left in your living room. It was visible the way you tried to keep your body each time Jaeyun thrust his cock even deeper into you, the burning slightly appearing in your groin with each more force that he thrust inside you. Your walls fluttered around his cock and sheltered him each time he entered with even more force.
“Shit, you feel so good.” Jaeyun gave a small smile when you tried to say something, only managing to moan and nod in agreement. Knowing how hard it would be for you to say anything at that moment he went faster and faster, pressing his fingers harder and harder against your body, now moving up to your hips. He felt you move your body against his, rubbing your clit against the length of his cock each time he pulled out completely before burying him deep inside you again. Jaeyun’s pelvis stimulated your sensitive bud each time he went so deep that there was no space left between your bodies, his balls slapping against your thighs and adding even more to the obscene noises in the sex between the two of you.
Jaeyun’s cock twitched as your pussy tightened, indicating that your orgasm was just around the corner. He was also about to cum, practically holding it in for so long that he feared how much would come next.
“I need—” Jaeyun whispered.
“Inside” you cut him off, knowing he could cum just by the way his hips bucked between thrusts. Your hands slid down his neck and up to his cheeks, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Your tongues tangled, your lips quick and desperate for some pressure as he picked up the pace to drive his cock even deeper into you.
A combination of his hip thrusts and the pulls he gave your hips to meet him, he felt your pussy clench around him so hard that it was enough for Jaeyun to spill. He came, painting your walls milky white as he moaned your name relentlessly. You weren’t far away and it only took a few more thrusts for you to cum on his cock. The white ring formed around his length as he continued to thrust in and out of you, not indicate that he was stopping just because cum was still gushing from the head of his sensitive cock.
With one last movement, your pussy milking every last drop, Jaeyun stopped moving. The strength draining from his body and giving way to calm, the high serotonin running through you and him after you both came together.
Jaeyun left a slow kiss on your lips, waiting a long minute until he finally pulled out of you. The sensitivity hits you both and makes you moan into each other's mouths.
“Sorry” he said as he knew you might be hypersensitive, even though he wanted to stay inside your pussy all night if he could.
“Okay” you replied, smiling tiredly before looking to the side and searching for your clothes. He went faster before lifting his underwear and pants, leaving a hint of sadness in your body for depriving you of the sight of him practically naked in front of you. But what caught your attention was that Jaeyun picked up his shirt from the floor, stretching it towards you.
“I don’t know where there are tissues, but—” he smiled a little, using the sleeve of his shirt to clean you between your legs.
“Jaeyun” you tried to stop him, but it was too late. Jaeyun cleaned you so carefully that it was practically impossible to believe, especially after what the two of you had done and the marks he had left on your body.
He helped you change, putting each piece of clothing in its proper place and still waiting for you to fix your hair, turning to him after a long time. The stain on the sleeve of his shirt, after it was put on, made your cheeks burn more than looking into his eyes and thinking about what the two of you had done.
“So…” you began, looking at him with a shy smile. Jaeyun smiled too, biting the inside of his cheek to keep it from growing even bigger as he got closer and wrapped one of his arms around your waist.
“Then I’ll take you home, and we’ll have dinner properly again from now on” as a couple, he wanted to add. But that was too much for just one night, Jaeyun wanted to tell you that as the two of you went out more often.
Explaining the fear he felt about his feelings for you was the most that could come out of Jaeyun's mouth. That made him feel good enough to not think he was lying – completely – to you. He was really afraid of what he felt, but at the same time, he was afraid of bringing you into his double world. The last part was still a secret, but at least hearing that you forgave him and that you accepted having a relationship with him was all that needed to be said.
Two months in which Jaeyun stopped being afraid to tell you what he felt for you. That the two of you, besides being business partners, had become a couple. You started to frequent his apartment and met his friends too, those who had to lie about their professions and never let it slip that they worked for Sim Jake, who you didn't even know.
Two months in which you had private security, unknown to you because Sunghoon's idea was better. At least one man every week took care of you from afar and kept Jaeyun informed in case anyone suspicious approached. No consequences were made as the relationship progressed. He was a little more relieved. Keeping it just in Jaeyun's life was what he wanted for a while, if things really progressed and became even more serious, he had to tell you about his other life. But there was no need yet.
“Love” your voice made him abandon the thoughts that constantly intrigued him, afraid that you would leave him at any moment for the lie he so wanted to get rid of, but couldn't. Looking in your direction, the smile came automatically when you approached him, going around the office desk to sit on his lap “Is everything okay?”
“Why do you ask?” in the last few months Jaeyun let the thought pass that you could also read him the same way he did with you. That you knew him as well as he knew you.
“Because I’ve been feeling quiet for a few days now” you wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders, at the same second he wrapped his arm around your waist “And because you’re twenty minutes late for dinner.”
Shit, the dinner. He had completely forgotten, staying inside the office to finish answering Jongseong and Sunghoon’s messages, trying to keep things out of danger with the new robbery that had been successfully carried out. He wanted to know if everything had gone according to the orders he had given that same morning, completely forgetting that he was supposed to meet you twenty minutes ago in the company parking lot.
“Shit, love, I’m sorry” Jaeyun leaned in, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His heavy breathing hit your skin and made you shiver. “I just—”
“How about we go home, then?” you asked, one of your hands going up to his hair and trying to stroke it slowly. “Your day must have been kind of rough, those men are annoying when they want to go back on their proposals.”
Every time you deduced that Jaeyun's tiredness and fear had something to do with the office, his heart sank a little more. His breathing hitched and he wanted to scream. But he held himself back and just nodded slowly, kissing your skin and lifting his head to look at you.
“Wait for me in the car? I'll fix everything here,” he asked.
“Sure,” you smiled once more, that being enough to calm all the nerves that persisted in his body. You leaned in to leave a quick and simple kiss on Jaeyun's full lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, Y/n,” he whispered back, kissing you once more before letting you get off his lap to leave the room.
Saying that he loved you out loud was like freeing himself from the bonds that suffocated him, held him back, and hurt him. He had never said that out loud to anyone other than his parents and his best friends. At first, it was as scary as wanting a relationship, but as you said and showed your love, Jaeyun knew it was the right thing to do. He felt that all that love was overwhelming, that as intensely as it scared him, it was the only thing that gave him the courage to continue.
Turning off all the appliances in the room and turning off the lights, he headed to the hallways of the building, greeting the security guards and some employees who were still there. Going to meet you in the parking lot. He just wanted to go home, enjoy your company, and take a hot shower. Many notes Jaeyun could think about having sex with you and using it as a form of calming, but that night he just wanted to feel your embrace, and your smell alone being the only thing capable of making his mind unfocused from everything that worried him.
A natural calming that was always right in front of him, the person who was the perfect balance between chaos and what he needed to stay alive.
“Jaeyun!” That was your voice, he could hear it from far away, but it wasn't like your call was as soft and calm as it always was. You were screaming. In desperation.
He looked around the open parking lot, trying to find you and why you seemed so desperate, but suddenly his world fell apart. Jaeyun's stomach was churning seeing your figure through the window of that van, screaming desperately and being pulled by someone hooded who wanted you to be quiet.
The car accelerated, making a complete turn in the parking lot before stopping next to Jaeyun and the passenger rolled down the window.
“We have something that belongs to you, Jake” the man smiled with rotten teeth, Jaeyun ran a few steps to grab him, but the driver took off “We want our drugs back!” he shouted before disappearing.
Your screams were the last thing he heard before the dead of night and the noise of the tires tearing through that parking lot. Jaeyun fell to his knees on the ground, the strength draining from his body. His scream echoed throughout the parking lot as he felt despair flood his body, along with the burning in his eyes and tears streaming down his cheeks.
What he feared most had happened. And he would stop at nothing to get you back.
© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
#enhypen#enhypen smut#jake smut#jaeyun smut#enhypen jake#enha smut#jake angst#jaeyun angst#jake x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen angst#jake hard hours#enhypen hard hours#jaeyun hard hours#enha fics#enha angst#enhypen masterlist#enhypen imagines#bay writes.
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Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)
Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.
Word Count: 1.957
“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.
“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.
“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.
“Just… Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”
“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.
It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.
As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.
Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.
It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.
“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.
“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.
“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”
“I would like that,” he smiled.
He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.
Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.
“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.
“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.
We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.
Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.
Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.
“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.
“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.
At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.
“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.
I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.
“Prep me up?” I mumbled.
Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.
“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.
“Francis…” I whimpered.
He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.
I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.
I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.
When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.
I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.
When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.
The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.
“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.
I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.
The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.
“I’m cuming,” I begged.
“Wait for me,” Francis urged.
He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.
“Francis, please” I begged again.
“Almost there” he grunted.
I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.
I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.
“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.
I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.
At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.
Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.
“I love you” he whispered between kisses.
“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.
He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.
“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.
“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”
“Just some water, please”.
I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.
The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.
Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.
#milkman#milkman x reader#francis mosses x you#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#francis#x reader#reader#x you#thats not my neighbor#doppelganger francis mosses#doppelganger#the milkman#francis x reader#smut
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my angel baby
(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)
[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )
(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)
(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)
(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )
You made it to heaven, lucky you.
Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,
all your sacrifices.
You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.
You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.
You wonder if it is in hell too.
'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.
You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.
Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.
What-- no wait-
You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.
Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.
Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?
_____ Altruist is who you a---
"HELLO??"
You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.
You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.
How peculiar.
Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.
"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.
"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"
She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"
Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.
"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.
The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.
"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"
And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.
"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.
"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..
Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.
"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.
Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.
The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.
The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.
Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.
"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.
"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.
"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.
The man that brought you up here in the first place.
The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.
"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"
The voice, the radio static over it, his name.
It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.
Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.
For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.
You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.
Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.
You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.
The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.
Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.
You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.
With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.
Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.
The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.
Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.
Oh-- wait.
That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.
It was you.
His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.
For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.
His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.
He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.
He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.
"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.
Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.
"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.
Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.
Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."
Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.
And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.
He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.
Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.
Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.
You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.
You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.
Your father wanted to talk to you.
Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.
His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.
"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.
The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.
He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."
Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.
You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.
"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.
"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."
Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.
Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.
With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.
(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)
#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel spoilers#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#hazbin spoilers#alastor altruist#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#hellaverse#alastor x reader platonic#alastor platonic#hazbin platonic#sera hazbin hotel#emily hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#hazbin charlie#vaggie
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"Are you serious...?" - Angst! [Hyung Line SKZ]
Notes : These are all obviously fictional situations, the red flags are just based off of habits we know they have (like Chan's need to be needed, Changbin being blunt/honest.) This post isn't me saying I think they have these red flags, it's just a fun angsty prompt I wrote down. If you don't like it, scroll and don't read.
If people like this - a maknae line will be written! If not, prolly not lol.
Warnings : Angst with no comfort, red flag behavior - some of these aren't even that bad or could be misunderstandings but still.
Maknae Line | "Good Luck, Babe." Part Two!! Here!
BangChan - Brushing off/Having the wrong priorities
One time, it was him forgetting a dinner date - the next, he was staying at the studio late when he was supposed to be meeting your parents for the first time. You let it slide because ultimately you understood that his job took up a lot of his time, and honestly? It wasn't easy to forget about but he had a tendency to take care of you and make up with it by quick gestures before he left the apartment or when he came home; Soft back hugs, quick cuddles before he fell asleep, or kisses in passing. Lately, however, he's been slacking. He'd begun to shrug you off any time you'd touched his arm or hand, nudging you away while he typed on his laptop. He'd tip his head away from yours while laying in bed together or he'd sit further away on the dressing room sofa.
The tipping point was when he was getting ready to go on stage and was standing in wait for the others to be ready. There was still five minutes and Chris looked a bit jittery, so you figured a quick hug or kiss would help ease his nerves. However as soon as you approach and reach to touch his arms, he steps back and keeps his eyes trained on his phone. You reach again, hesitant, and his brow furrows as he maneuvers to the side to get away. "Don't touch me."
Your lips pop apart in surprise. "...Are you serious?"
He looks over, eyes briefly wandering your face before he reaches to fix his in-ear and walks away to the door, disappearing around the corner and leaving you standing there alone. Even the soft touch of Felix's hand on your back as he passed by was warmer than anything you'd felt from Chris in the last two months.
Lee Know - Keeping secrets / Prioritizing Privacy within himself
Minho had a very, very bad habit of not telling you things. In this instance; That he was leaving for tour in two days.
A world. fucking. tour. The only reason you didn't know about it was because you hadn't been out of your home in the last few weeks unless it was for a quick coffee at the cafe or to grab lunch with a friend. Work was heavy during this time of year and as someone who worked remotely, you often spent grueling hours in your office on your computer - hunched, tired, head pounding and back sore.
So you would think that when you entered your bedroom one evening after just finishing up sorting files in your office, you'd be happy to see your boyfriend already there. And you were for a moment, until you realized he was packing three rather large suitcases full of his clothes and necessities. He looks to you, then away, wordless.
"Are.. you.. moving out, or something?" You breathe in a laugh, eyes wandering over Minho as he folds a t-shirt and tucks it into his suitcase with the others.
"No. I have to bring all of my luggage to the company building tomorrow so they can have it at the airport when we leave for Australia."
"Australia?" Your brows quirk. "When -- Why --"
"Tour." He stops his movements to stare over at you, a hint of irritation evident on his face. "We're going on tour for six months."
"Six--" You breathe out, eyes widening. "Six months. And you didn't think to tell me?"
Minho moves to drop a pair of pants in his suitcase. "I would've told you if you could handle the news, maybe. Every time I mention leaving all you do is whine and pout about how long I'll be gone."
"I get upset, yes, what girlfriend wouldn't be upset that her boyfriend is leaving for a week or two? But six months, Minho, I --"
"Don't start." He all but huffs out the words, shutting you up immediately. Minho turns away to continue folding items of clothing on the shared bed and as you watch him do so, you stand and have to wonder if you want to be there when he returns home from the tour.
Changbin - Not knowing the difference between being rude and being blunt
He didn't seem to understand when to stop. Changbin had a tendency to be honest, sometimes to a fault, though you never seemed to complain about it because most of the time it wasn't a big deal. He called Jeongin out for saying the wrong word when singing, or blatantly threw people under the bus when a joke was taken too far.
And he was like that with you, too. He would be honest with you when you asked his opinion of something - was the shirt unflattering? Were you being too loud? Was your makeup bad today?
He'd lay it on you point blank. Yes, the shirt fit a little weird. Yes, you were being a bit loud in his ear. And yes, your eyeliner was going in two different directions. Criticism that was asked for. But when it wasn't asked for? Oh.
"What is your problem?" He bites as he follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. "We have ten minutes, just wear the damn dress and put your shoes on. We have to go."
Your huffs mix with stifled sobs as you rip open your dresser drawer and dig for other options, hands shaking and eyes teary. "You just told me the dress looks ugly, Changbin. I'm not wearing it out if you don't like it--!"
"What does it matter if i don't like it? It's your body, wear what you want!"
"You're my boyfriend!" You retaliate, frustrated. "I want to look nice for you and -- for the group, and I want you to like what I wear, obviously!"
Changbin lets his eyes roll before he turns out of the bedroom doorway and down the hall. You pause to watch him go, listening as he bites about how he doesn't have time for this and needs to leave for the group dinner. You stand in front of your dresser in shock as the door to your apartment slams shut, leaving you in silence and all on your own.
Hyunjin - Being too cocky / Making you feel inferior
It hadn't happened before now, and you weren't sure why it happened at all. But it did.
You'd approached to gently hold onto your boyfriend's arm as he talked to an older idol - someone he looked up to and had just done a collaboration video with. You'd only come up to tell him that the food was delivered and he could have dinner before his stage, but the look he gave you when he finally turned his head was .... wild.
No words were needed. The way his eyes directed to the side you stood at before falling as if looking you over and then immediately looking away; The way the smirk on his lips only widened and his tongue pushed at his canines as he redirected his gaze elsewhere. The soft scoff that left his lips. The way his arm slipped away from your hold in clear nuance that he didn't want you touching him.
It made you feel like less. Like he was pretending he didn't know you - Like he wanted you to bug off and disappear from his line of sight.
Hyunjin had a tendency to put on a confident, bold persona when he was on stage and at first you thought maybe that was why he was acting this way. It was lingering in his body from the dance video he'd just filmed with the other idol and eventually, it would wear off.
But as he turned from you and lifted a hand to fix his hair, he talks to the other as if you're not even there at all. And you have to wonder if it's a persona for the video, or a side of him you had just experienced for the first time. Now you could only hope it wouldn't happen again.
#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz imagine#bangchan x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#leeknow x reader#skz angst#stray kids angst
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the way you wrote simon “my cock is too big it won’t fit” riley was jaw dropping, eye-rolling, and heavenly!!!
I’m imagining Simon who finally puts it in and is even more desperate than reader (cue male whimpering audio)
awww thank u so much!! i had such intense need that i bonked my head n went, “yup. this is the horny thought for the day” <333
oh but he was always soooooo desperate, even more so than the reader!! especially before they finally fucked!!!
thinking about the way he fucks his fist every night after your date ends :((
while you were at your home, stuffing your hole with your fingers (and toys, really—your eyes having devoured the chub underneath simon’s pants every time you two would sit close together, snuggled as you watched a movie, before rushing home and putting in on an order for toys because god do you need one. or four…), simon was locked in his room, messily fisting his cock.
there is too much lube, and it is staining his boxers and his pants because he was too horny to even strip properly. he bites down his moans, hesitant to let them out even when he is alone at his safe house, his eyes pressed close as he imagines the way he'll take you: on your knees while he pinches your nipples, flicking the buds with the blunt ends of his nails, or on your back with your legs folded to your chest because there is no way in hell that simon's not going to breed you.
it's that thought that always makes him cum, rumbled groans pouring out like rippling water.
“jesus,” he murmurs as he stares at his cum-stained palm, mind running at the way you clenched-and-unclenched your legs during dinner—something, he notes, was happening more often. “this is torture.”
(simon has always known how you look good in your own desperation, ragged in the way you stare up at him with furrowed eyes and lips jutted into a pout, but there was something different then. it was charged. primal. and simon realized how the ache must have peaked for you.
good, simon thought. i need you just as much.)
he slid two fingers in your twitching hole, relishing in your stuttered moans at the ease of their plunge. the wet squelch made his cock jump, thumping against his thigh, but he wasn’t done.
it wasn’t enough.
(simon has had countless partners before you, just like you had others before him.
you told him of the dissatisfaction, how cocks only ever breached your walls for the pleasure of the body it was attached to and never for your own. you told him of your elation that bubbled into sputtering disappointment because they never knew how to coax an orgasm from you with just their cock. you told him of the accidental orgasms, those that they cannot recreate because it wasn’t intended. sure, you told him of their wonderful fingers or mouths, of their robust laps you were grinding on during those days when sex is more foreplay than the penetration, but it wasn’t what you ached for.
you told him all of this, in return, simon told you the others who could never really fit him. the others who tried but they were never really interested in the preparation. the others who could only take half of his length, hissing when an inch slides in even when it shouldn’t.
“impatient,” simon murmured when you asked why his ex-partners couldn’t fit him.
“and they don’t have that…” he trailed off, tongue heavy in his mouth.
“they don’t have what?” you prodded, blinking at him all so darlingly, your blood buzzed with alcohol.
“they don’t have that masochistic streak,” simon replied, voice gentle. testing.
your only reaction was a quiet gasp, heavy eyes widening a fraction as the words settled in. he watched as you began fidgeting, throat bobbing at your dry swallow.
that was all simon needed to know you are made for him—soul and body.)
the moment your greedy hole managed to gobble all of his four fingers was when simon knew you were ready. he flicked his eyes away from your dripping slit and watched as you laid on the bed twitching, your eyes red from your tears, your skin dotted with sweat.
you looked like a beautiful, hot mess and simon was ready to engulf you whole.
simon slots himself between your legs, fist warm around his flushed cock. your glazed eyes focus on him, watching with open-mouthed gasps, and simon coos, unable to stop himself.
“ready f’r me, pup?” he asks, tapping the head of his cock against your sensitive sex.
it makes you keen, hips squirming, mussing up the already soiled sheets. simon chuckles, heat filling his cheeks, and taps it once, twice, three more times before finally lining the leaking head of his cock against your twitching hole.
the slow press in makes you two moan, bodies locking at the explosion of ecstasy that fills up your senses. overwhelming pleasure quickly razes through him, overtaking his sanity as the wet squeeze of your walls grips him deliciously.
he buckles, muscles liquifying, and the dizzying euphoria makes him stumble. he slips, his cock sliding in deeper, breaching further—
simon whimpers, unable to stop himself as unadulterated bliss grips him. he couldn’t help it: he sinks all of himself in you, your walls not even protesting as they swallowed him in, hungry in the way you are all filled up by him.
“si-!” he hears your delirious squeal, the rumble of your voice scratching into a ragged echo, and simon—
simon gurgles a response.
his mind has been zapped by the peaking high, rendering him unable to string coherent thoughts as all of his synapses sing nothing but the enveloping pleasure, running him on overdrive.
simon feels like he is being devoured. like he is stripped into nothing but his sensitive spots.
“t-too good,” he mewls. “pup, s’too good–”
#anon#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley smut#simon and his big dick galore 🥰#ask#suns#I YELLED OMG SORRY THIS IS FILTHY
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oh how you love longhair!jungkook . . .
pairings. jungkook x reader (f)
genres/aus. fluff, smut, established relationship
warnings. long hair jungkook, oral (f receiving), minor cum play, hair pulling, fingering, squirting, finger sucking
notes. wrote something about long hair haechan awhile ago, it’s only fair i write about long hair kook too 🙇🏻♀️ likes and reblogs appreciated !! stay safe and healthy <33
masterlist
—
"ahh, this is annoying." you hear jungkook from the kitchen, not really talking to you but voicing his thoughts aloud. you turn your head away from the laptop in your lap towards the man fighting the hair in his face as he towers over the kitchen sink.
you laugh to yourself, focus back on your laptop screen.
"yah, are you laughing? help meee," he pointedly stares at you while you fake innocence.
you sigh, placing your laptop on the coffee table in front of you before marching to the kitchen. jungkook is attempting to move the hair out of his face with his shoulder as he scrubs a plate clean. his bare wrists missing his usual black hair tie that would suit his wrist, so you just use on yours that was meant for you.
"girlfriend here fulfilling girlfriend duties sir!" you jokingly say in a deep voice and saluting as the cherry on top. the corner of his lips lift slightly as he scoffs.
you stand behind him as he pauses what he's doing to lean his head back so you can reach. you strategically use your fingers to comb through his hair as you carefully gather a fistful and quickly tie it up. made sure to not tie it too tight because he gets headaches if they're too tight. you step back and admire your work.
"better?" you ask.
"much, thank you." he exhales. with that you were going to turn around but he stops you.
"wait, kiss!" he urged.
—
"is that my headband?" you tilt your head at the sight in front of you.
jungkook washing his face with—pretty sure it's yours— a cute tiger headband pushing back his hair. soap suds coating his entire face.
he squints his eyes at you. "perhaps?" he says questioningly.
"what do you mean perhaps, that is mine." you snickered, walking past him to do what you originally came in the bathroom for.
"sorry baby, i don't know where mine went."
you flush the toilet and stand beside him to use the other sink to wash your hands. "it's okay, i'll buy you another one."
next day . . .
"really? a cooky headband?" he doesn't even look surprised, yet slowly a smile is creeping it's way onto his face. you just looked so excited when you came back from the store.
"it's fitting! it's literally you." you shoot your arms out, gesturing to him. "plus, now we can do face masks together."
—
"oh, fuck," you cried out, fingers harshly pulling his head into your center as he greedily licks into your cunt.
your stomach moving up and down from the uncontrollable breaths you're taking in and letting out. the pads of your fingers dig into his scalp and the feeling only urges him on more as he grinds into the bed. he's sure he looks pathetic humping the mattress, but your sounds and touch made him desperate and he did not give a fuck.
"taste so fucking good..."
"smell so fucking good..." he curses out in between munching on your juicy pussy.
you let out a strangled cry as his tongue leaves your hole and moves onto your clit, sucking at it. gripping frantically for anything and finding a pillow, you buck your hips, wanting more. needing more. the noises he makes as he eats you out were ungodly. whining, groaning, short breaths as he presses into your folds.
he did not want to stop, he was pussy drunk. his hands slowly drag its way up from your ankle to your leg then where you were needily craving. two of his fingers brush against your hole.
"hmph, kookie," god that nickname. the way it sounds coming out of your lips. the way it sounds in this extremely lewd situation. the way it's just you.
he huffs out. "shit," his fingers pumping into you fast and relentless.
his free hand moves to hold your hips down, licking and sucking on the sensitive bud harder. he felt you tighten around his fingers, your walls fluttering.
"i can't, i can't- oh fuuuck!"
"mmh," he groans out as you both cum. his warm cum coating the inside of his briefs leaving a sticky, uncomfortable mess. your juices are creating a pool from the dip in the bed created from the weight of your ass.
he pulls out his fingers, leisurely, as he sits up on the back of his shins, his thigh muscles become prominent and you clench around nothing from the sight. but you seriously cannot take a fourth orgasm. his face glistening from the meal he just had and hairs sticking out from his once neat man bun.
your body begins to calm down, with shaky legs you slide your feet up and open your legs to make room for him. holding out your hand for him to take he lets you pull him down, at your mercy, his arms on either side of your head. you reach up to pull his hair free from the ponytail, his thick waves cascading down from his neck.
taking a moment to admire the bare beauty in front of you. his cheeks painted a faint red from the previous rounds in here, his baby hairs stringy and sticking to his forehead and sideburns from sweat. the beauty marks that makeup and cameras cannot capture and only people close up can see. your hand comes up to gently cup his face and you almost cry when you can see him physically melt into your hand, his eyes fluttering shut while your thumb makes soft strokes.
you blindly reach for his hand that was penetrating you minutes before and take them in your mouth. your tongue lapping around his digits, humming at the taste of yourself.
he’s getting lost at the sight of you.
finally opening your eyes, he slowly pulls his fingers out from your mouth. the tips of his fingers dragging down slowly from your bottom lip, watching it bounce back. his eyes zone in on the wet streak he’s leaving down to your collarbone.
“we made a mess.” he mumbles, smirking.
“oops,” you shrug, smiling.
#instances where reader loves jungkook’s long hair :’)#twilghtkoo#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#jungkook drabble#jungkook oneshot#jungkook imagine#jungkook fluff#boyfriend!jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook fic#bts fluff#bts smut#bts drabble#bts scenarios
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Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!
I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3
Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader
summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara.
a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao
warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13
wc: 3.5k ish
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.
Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things.
Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax.
Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration.
It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers.
"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler.
"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."
Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words.
"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers! How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?"
"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"
"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!"
"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."
"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."
"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling.
"I could do this all day, princesa. "
You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure.
~~~
You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit.
You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive.
He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time.
You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far.
That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him.
You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.
"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar.
"You okay?"
He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you. "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all."
You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."
He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."
"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."
~~~
As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two.
Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand.
Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over.
It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you.
You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.
You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.
You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass.
It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder.
"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?"
You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink.
"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar.
He stretches out his hand, and you take it.
"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."
Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words.
"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"
"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish.
"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck.
"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."
The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do.
And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him.
Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you.
~~~
He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.
You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.
He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer.
He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in.
You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness.
"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him.
You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension.
You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip.
"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck.
He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders.
He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out.
"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper.
Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."
The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile.
You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face.
~~~
It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more.
He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words.
Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is.
He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate all your needs.
When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order.
So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk.
He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach.
"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -"
"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains.
You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary.
"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?"
Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-"
"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious .
"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body.
"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something.
You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up.
He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?"
You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression is steady, just as unreadable.
"Do you want to?"
You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over.
"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me."
You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust.
"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod.
Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man.
You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper.
"Fuck, Miguel."
"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot.
You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares.
"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans.
"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."
His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters.
" M-Miguel …"
He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm.
" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?"
You nod frantically with a stifled sob.
"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."
"...fuuck you."
" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."
"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.
"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."
" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please."
"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?"
"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks.
He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers.
You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath.
"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."
You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought.
You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy.
He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum.
Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago.
"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process.
"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?"
"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."
All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles.
"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa."
_
_
_
#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#smut#spiderman 2099 x reader#light angst#kat_writes😼#miguel o hara x reader#headcanon#miguel o'hara headcanons#jealousy
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I Was Heavenstruck
Summary - Wanda takes a liking for a young coffee shop worker. The only issue is, Wanda’s married. word count: 4.7k
Warnings - cheating, mommy wanda, age gap relationship, oral, begging, fighting, obsessed wanda, dom!sub undertones, angst
AN - milf wanda milf wanda milf wanda - I suppose I should post this rather than hiding all my writings in my drafts. Literally have like 3 currently held hostage begging to be let out. Part 2 here
18+ minors/men dni
Coffee shops have always been one of your favorite places. Luckily for you, your little college town had the cutest one. You’d applied nearly the second you’d gotten settled. Now you were happily on your third year of working there. You loved the busy work. It kept your mind occupied and distracted as you could focus on the coffee and making the customers happy. Recently, you found yourself getting slightly distracted at work. There was a woman who came in every morning at the same time. She would order the same cappuccino and chocolate croissant and sit at one of the corner tables while she caught up on emails. Lately, she had begun to get a little chatty. She would stop at the pickup spot, leaning over the counter as she would laugh and ask you about your day. The amount of darlings and sweethearts she used in each sentence never failed to make you blush. While she was older something pulled you towards her. You didn’t notice a ring on her finger. You found yourself quickly falling for her. Now, after two months of the same back and forth you needed more. Your hand shook as you wrote on a napkin your phone number. You placed it on the little dish visible next to the mug. You passed the dish over to her with a slightly shaky hand and a dark blush on your face. Her eyes glistened and riddled with confusion at your nervousness. She hadn’t seen your little note yet.
“Sweetheart, are you feeling okay? Maybe you should take a break. Come sit with me?” She offered as she set the dish down and reached to your arm. You shook your head politely declining. As much as you would love to sit with her, you couldn’t just leave what you were doing. There were other orders needed. She nodded and looked down at her mug as she went to pick it back up. It was her turn to blush as she noticed the note. She hummed a little ‘oh’ of contentment and understanding before hurrying to her typical table.
She was sitting there grinning to herself as she sipped her coffee. She pulled out her phone and you did your best not to stare as you tried to keep occupied. When you felt a buzz from your phone you glanced up at Wanda and your face quickly turned red as you locked eyes. Quickly, you looked away and pulled out your phone to see the notification. It’s from a new number with a simple text. “Hey <3”
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
After three days of spending much longer than you would care to admit texting you finally worked up the courage to ask her out. From there you’d decided on sandwiches and a walk in the park after your shift on Friday. Nervous as ever you’d woken up much earlier than anticipated but spent the entire morning anxiously getting ready for work. You did your hair in a half-up half-down look with two pieces in the front. You then did a simple makeup look. You got dressed before heading to work. Watching the time like a hawk, just on cue Wanda came in. She walked to the counter and ordered her usual drink but disregarded the croissant.
Your smile when you saw her had been apparent. She seemed almost as nervous as you as she made simple small talk as you made her coffee. When you passed it to her she smiled and winked before heading to her table. By the time she’d come in you’d have half an hour left of your shift. She waited patiently as she read a book, glancing up at you every once in a while. When you finished your shift she seemed to be lost in her book. You disappeared into the bathroom to put on a bit more of a casual appearance, changing your shirt and stuffing your old one into your purse. Looking into the mirror you took a few deep breaths to gain confidence before walking towards Wanda. She hadn’t even noticed you approaching her until you carefully settled your fingers on her book, pressing it into her lap softly.
“Ready?” You smiled down at her before pulling your bottom lip into your mouth with a nervous giggle. She nodded excitedly and shut her book, putting it into her bag before standing up.
“Ready.” She hummed and looked down at you now. She stood just a few inches taller than you which always made you blush. Her hand reached down and held yours confidently as if they were meant to be that way. She then softly tugged you out of the cafe and outside. Once outside she smiled down at you. “Where to?” You smiled and led her to your favorite sandwich shop. The conversation flowed easily as she confidently led you around. Anytime you would move too slowly a soft squeeze would be applied to your hand as a reminder, causing you to hurry next to her side again. The two of you walked closely, arms brushing every once in a while. The touch barrier is typically broken after several dates have been broken almost instantly with Wanda’s constant desire to be close to you. You didn’t mind it though. Her closeness and gentle grazes and touches made you feel comfortable as you moved down the busy streets. Eventually, you made your way to the park. She led you to a blanket with a small picnic basket and a bouquet on top. How she had set this up without you knowing and had nothing happen to it surprised you. You grinned excitedly as she handed you the fresh pink tulips. You practically squeezed with excitement and wrapped your arms around her engulfing her in a hug. She pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as you spoke. The action causes you to stutter slightly.
“I’ve never been given flowers before.” You muttered softly and she smiled at you before wrinkling her eyebrows in confusion.
“A pretty girl like you deserves flowers. What a shame. I’ll just have to fulfill that desire for you now.” She said with a little wink as she sat down. She motioned next to her for you to sit and you obliged, setting the flowers next to you. “Any other desires you need to be fulfilled, pretty girl?” She asked with a small smirk on her face. You blushed a bright shade and quickly looked away from her gaze. Flustered, you reached for the sandwiches and passed her hers. She grabbed the picnic basket and opened it. Inside she pulled out some fresh strawberries she had sliced up, a small container of veggies and hummus, and a bottle of wine with two glasses. You giggled when you saw the wine and bit your bottom lip slightly.
“Wanda is like barely noon.” You teased her for her drink of choice. You’d just barely turned 21 and despite how many college kids behaved you rarely drank underage. It had all been very new to you. She just chuckled and poured two small glasses, passing one towards you. You two fell into a simple conversation as you ate happily. Eventually, somehow you ended up lying, looking up at the clouds with your head in Wanda’s lap. Her fingers tangled delicately through your hair as she relaxed in the closeness. From an outside perspective, you two were moving quite quickly. But in reality, this was months of pining and small talk. Finally, you two were able to be close and together. When Wanda’s phone rang for the third time in a row neither of you could ignore it anymore. You reached over and grabbed it for her, passing it to her. You tried not to be nosy and avoided looking at the screen to see who was calling. She declined the call and set the phone to the side. You thought for a second before looking up at her, deciding to ask.
“Who’s in such a need for your attention?” You asked as you took her hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair into your own hands. Softly you played with her fingers, directing your attention to the clouds.
“Other than you? Nobody that deserves it.” She stated simply as she smiled down at you. You smiled at the answer before sitting up and flipping around to face her. You kicked your legs over hers carefully draping them over her lap. Her hands rested on your legs with a smile.
“Hmm.” You thought out loud as you leaned in a little bit. “I want you to tell me something.” You stated as you reached up to her hands with one of yours.
“Mmhm.” She hummed in response, causing you to continue.
“I want you to tell me a secret. Something no one else knows.” You said as a matter of fact. She chuckled at you and raised one of her eyebrows.
“No one else, huh.” She questioned as she leaned in a tiny bit. You nodded in response as you awaited her answer. “I want to kiss you right now.” She replied in a little whisper as she glanced down at your lips. You wasted no time as you quickly closed the gap between you. She immediately kissed back as one of her hands moved to your waist and the other settled on the back of your head. It was gentle and sweet. Delicate almost. She didn’t want to spook you too much. You weren’t exactly satisfied with her softness. When she pulled away you glanced back and forth between her lips and her eyes.
“Wanna know my secret?” You asked, desperation heard through your voice. She just nodded as the scene unfolded in front of her. Carefully you made your way to straddling her lap. Her breath hitched in her throat as it was finally your turn to fluster her. “I want you to kiss me, kiss me, Wanda.” You stated as your finger pressed into the center of her chest softly. She leaned in to kiss you again. This time it was real. It was passionate and deep and everything you could ask for. Her hands grabbed at your hips as she pulled you closer, your body’s flush. Her tongue swooped against your bottom lip, eagerly seeking entrance. You obliged happily as your hips ground softly against her. When you two eventually pulled away you became suddenly very aware of your public presence. You blushed red as you glanced around before hiding your face in the crook of her neck. She held you close as her hand found a slow pattern tracing up and down your back.
The next few days were electric. Then weeks passed and you continued strong. You’d hit the three month mark of your first date last Friday and you just felt more encapsulated with Wanda's aura than ever before. Sometimes after your shift ends you two would walk around the shops that line the street. Other times it was late and you just needed a break from the textbooks. You would end up tangled up in the backseat of her car like a high school couple hiding from the world. Your favorites have been when she shows up for her usual at work. Several minutes after she’s served, you take a ‘break’ and disappear off into the bathroom for hidden kisses. Never once have you gone all the way though. And never once has the conversation of going to either of your houses come up: Until today.
When Wanda came in for her usual you saw her and a big smile grew across your face at the sight of her. It quickly faded as you noticed her discomfort. You frowned in confusion as you saw the man surprisingly close to her. His hand rested on her back as they quietly discussed their orders. Wanda looked quite uncomfortable but you didn’t notice as you were trying to figure out who the man with her was. You knew you recognized him but weren’t sure where from. When he came to order you immediately realized.
“We’ll take a cappuccino and,” he started but you quickly cut him off.
“Vision?” You asked confused before gasping. “Vision. No way.” You exclaimed. Wanda’s confusion was evident as you two shared shocked expressions and surprised laughter.
“Wow! Oh my gosh! What are you doing here? Wow. Wanda!” He exclaimed as he looked down at her. “Our families were quite close when we were young! They still are but after college started I kinda disappeared into my own world.” He said as he shook his head. “We practically grew up together. Well, she is several years younger than me but you know.” He teased slightly before looking back at you. “This is my wife, Wanda.” He smiled. The words hit you heavily and suddenly you noticed all of Wanda’s discomfort. She was married. Your smile faded and you heard the blood rushing in your ears. You covered it well as he happily carried on.
“Yeah, uh, we’ve met sorta.” You said with a squinted look. “She’s quite the regular here.” You said with a faint laugh.
“We have to catch up soon.” He said suddenly and you just nodded sheepishly. “Friday. We’re having a little party. It’d be great to have you. Bring a plus one if you’d like? Boyfriend? Friend? Whatever.” You just nodded in agreement before smiling lightly. You scribbled down your phone number before sliding it to him and mumbling about getting their orders. They ordered it to go before leaving. The look on Wanda’s face stuck with you. How could she not have mentioned she was married? What was she doing with you?
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Friday came quicker than you’d expected. Throughout the rest of the week, you’d avoided Wanda: Her calls, her desperate texts, even your typical work hours. What you couldn’t stay away from was Friday. But you had a plan. Natasha. Your best friend. You’d asked her for a favor and she was quick to agree. Vision had approved you bringing a guest so there you did. You had a bottle of wine in your hand. You both were dressed quite nicely. Natasha in a tight red dress that complimented her hair nicely and accentuated her chest and ass. You were wearing clothes nicer than you’d put on in forever. A tight black dress that hugged your hips just perfectly and left your chest quite out and exposed. Despite your pleas of denial Natasha had encouraged you to wear heals and boy did they do wonders for your legs. You knocked on the door and waited nervously. Wanda opened it with a desperate but nervous smile. It faded when she noticed you had a plus one. She was wearing a white jumpsuit, a little more conservative than you two but it had you blushing anyways. You exchanged awkward highs and smiles. She let you in with a fake smile as she attempted to seem normal.
“This is Natasha. My girlfriend.” You smiled fakely as you watched them introduce themselves.
“Your girlfriend! Wow yes. So nice to meet you.” Wanda bore fakely through gritted teeth. She knew you didn’t have a girlfriend. Vision didn’t. And you planned on making the whole scene very convincing. You two entered and Vision made his appearance. You and Natasha were quickly pulled off into a conversation, weaving your way throughout the crowded house. You both found drinks and made attempts at casual conversation with people. Natasha made the practice of being extremely touchy. She would lean down and whisper in your ear which caused shivers down your spine. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you blush. Wanda watched the two of you interact from her place as she sipped her drink quietly. The quick kisses you and Natasha would share and her quite apparent hand on your ass caused Wanda to squirm from across the room. Your drinks were set down as you two moved off to the side of the crowd. Her hands roamed across your body as if there was no one else in the room. She leaned down and whispered in your ear causing you to blush deeply.
“Who knew this would all come so naturally.” She paused, her hands settling on your hips as she pulled your body’s flush. “I want more.” She whispered before leaning down to kiss you deeply. Thus began a heavy make-out. Her tongue made a quick fashion of taking control of the kiss. You moaned as you opened your mouth further. Your hand tangled softly in her hair as she squeezed at your ass. You grumbled a little when she eventually pulled away. She wasn’t done yet. She leaned down once more to whisper in your ear. “Forget Wanda. I could treat you so right baby. Let’s just get out of here.” Your eyes flickered over to where Wanda was standing as you made accidental eye contact. She was schaithing as she faked enjoyment with the people surrounding her. Her eyes rarely left you. You couldn’t even tell if this was all an act anymore or not. You didn’t even have a chance to consider the proposition Natasha had put up when Wanda practically stormed over. She seemed to have taken your eye contact as a signal to come over. A giant smile plastered on her face when she reached out and touched your arm.
“Honey, can we step over here for a second? I’d love to just have a word with you?” She asked as her arm slid down to your hand, gripping it tightly. She didn’t wait for a response as she began pulling you off down a hallway and away from everyone. You glanced back at Natasha and all she did was wink. The house was bigger than you’d expected it to be. She looked around making sure no one was paying attention before pulling you up the stairs. She tugged you into the nearest room and you clumsily fell into her embrace. She shut the door, catching you carefully before pushing you up against the wall. “What the hell is all this?” She started, as if she was allowed to be the person upset here. Your eyes avoided her as you looked around the room, noticing a bed and dresser you were suddenly fearful she had brought you into her bedroom. The one she shared with her husband. “Oh don’t get your panties all tied in a knot, this is the guest room.” She said coldly as she shook her head. You pulled against her grip causing her to just tighten it. You looked up into her eyes as you struggled with what to even say. Her cold demeanor dropped suddenly as she sighed. Her hands fell to her sides and her eyes looked into yours, now glossy.
“When were you planning on telling me you were married?” You started, cautiously. “That you have this whole extravagant life. And you just sneak around with me.” You groaned. “Because you’re married!” You practically yelled causing Wanda to quickly snap her hand up and cover your mouth.
“Shh.” She hushed you softly. You shook your head, shaking her hand off of your face as you swatted at her.
“Don’t shush me.” You growled as you frowned. She sighed and took a step back, giving you a little bit of space. Your arms fell to your sides in defeat as you finally showed how you really felt. The pit in your stomach grew as you spoke quietly. “I just thought it was real.” You looked away from her and shook your head as tears filled your eyes. “Was any of it even real?” You asked, not even sure if you’d want to know the answer. She stepped back towards you again and cupped your face softly.
“Sweetheart, it was real. It was all real.” She said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “It was more real than anything I’ve felt in so,” she sighed. “So long.” You finally looked back into her eyes. They were glossy as tears threatened to fall. “I got in too deep.” She whispered. “I fucked up Detka. It was never supposed to go as far as it did.” She now looked away from you, feeling guilty. “You were just supposed to be my little distraction in the morning. My beaming ray of sunshine I would get to enjoy with my coffee. I fell for you though. I hoped the date would be terrible and would push us apart and I would lose interest.” She looked back at you. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and frowned. “I didn’t. In fact, I grew to really quite adore you.” She smiled a tiny bit. It was a sad, guilty smile that faded when she saw your frown. Her thumb wiped your tears away and she kissed your cheek repeatedly.
“You used me Wanda. You used me as a distraction from your sad, boring life, and unhappy marriage.” Your words were cold and mean. They took her by surprise but she knew it all already. She frowned and sighed.
“Please sweetheart. You have to forgive me.” She pleaded, her hands sliding down your face and down your arms to your hands. The tears that had been threatening to escape finally fell. She gripped your hands tightly in hers as she began to beg. “Please.” She leaned forward again and began to kiss at your face and neck. Between each kiss a beg or plead would follow. Her hands moved to your hips and back to your ass. Her hands stilled as she leaned to whisper in your ear. “It can be our little secret Detka. No one has to know.” She nipped at your earlobe slightly, causing you to groan. You felt sick sneaking around like this. Though there was something that drew you to the situation so strongly. It pulled and urged you against all of your better judgment. You broke, nodding weakly. She saw you nod and gasped relieved as she kissed you deeply, passionately. It was a kind of desperation you had never felt from her before. The feeling suffocated you. Her utter obsession with you fueled a fire in you you hadn’t ever even dreamt of. She dropped to her knees, looking up to you with desperate eyes.
“Let me thank you.” She murmured, her hands sliding up your thighs underneath your dress. You groaned at her touches and nodded again as your hand went to her hair. It gently tangled in her curls as she left wet kisses up your thighs. You separated your legs a little as you leaned up against the wall. She pulled your panties down your thighs and faked a gasp at the wet spot on them. “I’ve barely even touched you sweetheart.” She teased and stuffed your panties into her pocket, not planning on giving them back. You whined softly as you pulled her head closer to where you needed it. She immediately gave you the attention you deserved. She lifted your leg over her shoulder for easier access. Her head was immediately buried in your cunt as she licked moved as if she was starved. Her tongue moved skillfully through your folds and around your clit. You had to hold back gasps and moans as you fell back against the wall harder. A hand covered your mouth to stifle the moanes she created as she hungrily ate between your thighs. Your hand held tighter in her hair as you pulled her closely, directing her to what you liked. You could feel her smiling below you, this caused you to blush a dark color as you closed your eyes tightly. The embarrassment washed away as you only felt pleasure. Her tongue brought you to a quick orgasm. You bit down on your hand softly to muffle the moans she was so easily eliciting from your body. As you came down from the high you nearly fell over. She was quick to catch you as she held you up carefully. Your eyes were still closed as you leaned your head against the door, catching your breath tiredly. She wiped her face a little as she chuckled at your exhaustion. She leaned forward kissing you deeply. You kissed back with desire. You moaned as you tasted yourself on her. You whined into the kiss as it turned sloppy. She pulled you into her arms, holding you closely as you snuggled into her embrace, leaning your entire body weight on her.
“Come here darling.” She whispered soothingly as she held you. “Mommy’s got you.” She whispered instinctively. The nickname she used on herself caught you a little off guard at first. But you smiled and blushed at the comfort and fuzzy feelings you were feeling. She lifted you carefully and walked you to the bed before gently setting you down. You laid back on the bed and reached for her to lay with you. She stayed standing though and tried to part from your body. When she tried to let go of you your eyes snapped open and you whined.
“No mommy.” You complained and grabbed her clothes. She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, soothing your worries.
“I’m just going to grab some things to clean you up sweetheart I’ll be right back.” She whispered, causing you to reluctantly let go of her. She disappeared into the bathroom and was gone far too long as she collected some things. She returned only a moment later and sat down next to you. You squirmed up against her and she made gentle work of cleaning you up. Her hands gripped at your thighs causing you to instinctively open them for her, whining at the touch. She gently wiped you up before setting the wash cloth aside and carefully taking off your makeup. Your eyes stayed closed as you drifted off into a relaxed, sleepy state. When she finished she peppered soft kisses across your face before stopping at your lips. Her tongue was immediately seeking entrance again, causing you to moan and press your legs together once again. She pulled away when she noticed your reaction, tisking you no softly.
“Mommy’s sorry honey, no more tonight.” She hummed and soothed your cheek. You nodded and looked up at her with big eyes.
“The party.” You looked up with concern. She shook her head a little with a sweet smile.
“I have it handled. I’ll be right back okay?” She assured you as she waited to leave your embrace until you approved. You nodded and she stood up. She went to the mirror and fixed up her appearance. You turned your body so you could watch her, a small smile on your face. She smiled back at you before leaving the room and going downstairs. She explained to Vision that you were quite ill and would have to stay the night. When he offered to come up and help she politely declined, explaining how he needed to stay to finish up the party. He agreed and Wanda returned upstairs. She stopped in her room first and grabbed some pajamas before returning to the guest room, locking the door behind her. You reached for her impatiently, whines leaving your lips.
“Come here.” You murmured, clinging onto her jumpsuit when she was within reach. She stood next to the bed while you nuzzled your face up against her thigh. She took your phone from you one hair playing softly though your hair.
“What’s your password honey?” She asked, causing you to mumble it out. She typed it in before finding Natasha’s contact. She sent her a text saying she could leave and you would be alright for the night. You didn’t even question what Wanda was doing on your phone, all you cared about was being close to the older woman. She then set to work getting you out of your dress and into some comfortable clothes. All of her touches felt like fire on your body. You squirmed beneath her as her fingers grazed up your thighs. She then stepped back and changed out of her clothes. You watched in awe, biting your bottom lip as she stripped in front of you. Her confidence radiated as she didn’t even hesitate changing with your watchful eyes. When she finished she climbed in bed behind you. You scooted back against her body as she pulled you flush against her. You relaxed in her embrace, falling asleep quickly. All of your comfort would be taken away though in just a few short hours when she had to return to bed with her husband.
#mommy wanda#wanda#wanda maximoff#wandavision#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda x reader#scarlet witch#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch x you
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you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
#hazbin hotel x reader#husk x reader#angel dust x reader#vox x reader#lucifer x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin vox x reader#hazbin hotel scenarios#lia writes 💌
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♡ Softer, Softest ♡
♡ Pairing: mafia!boss!san x stripper!chubby!fem!reader
♡ Genre: smut/angst/fluff
♡ Summary: A fun night of stripping takes a turn when an encounter with a particularly unpleasant customer leaves you in tears, running to your boss seeking comfort and protection. Both things he’s more than willing to give.
♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish
♡ Warnings: explores themes of body insecurities, reader has her arm grabbed (nothing violent but brutal violence against the person who grabbed it), mentions of blood/injuries (not yours, babes), kissing, heavy body worship, san’s obsessed with you, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), clit sucking, nipple pinching, a lil manhandling, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, low key mirror sex, pet names (baby, pretty).
♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this little fic for any of my chubby darlings out there who might not know or might need reminding that their bodies are gorgeous, worth loving, and desirable. I also really love myself a hot criminal and who better than San? K, let me shut up now. Just know I love you. Your body’s amazing. Never forget that ❤️
Midnight. Friday. The back alley of a strip club. The best in town. The strip club, not the alley. It’s a dark, starless night. The smell of fresh rain hangs in the air, the aftermath of a sudden downpour that left the ground slick with rain. Music from inside the club bleeds through the cracks of a heavy steel door. A neon red EXIT sign hangs overhead. The door creaks on its hinges as it swings open, sending the music blaring out into the night and with it comes a body. The blur of one at first, flying through the air, and then the weight of it. The heavy thud of bruised flesh and cracked bone colliding with the asphalt.
The man on the ground is unremarkable, nothing about him worth noting except the mangled nose that gushes blood down his face, leaking into the cavernous gash that is his busted lip. He said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now he can’t speak at all, only mumble. A brushed leather Dolce and Gabbana shoe collides with his cheek. His blood splashes scarlet against the pitch black soles, a horrible crack emitting from his jaw as more pressure’s applied. Now this man? He’s remarkable. He’s muscular, defined in every way so that, even through his black dress shirt, you can read the broadness of his shoulders. His features are sharp and intense. The kind you either fall for or fall victim to. There’s no in between. He’s a handsome devil but a devil all the same.
“You look like shit” San sighs, effortlessly kicking the man onto his back. He rolls his sleeves up, kneeling beside the man like a hunter inspecting its fallen prey. He stares down at him, emotionless, void of anything close to that thing we call remorse.
The man heaves in a breath of air before coughing it back out. “Mmm s-s-sorry” he croaks, “I didn’t know she was anyone fucking special.”
San grips the man’s face, grinning in a way that isn’t the least bit friendly. He squeezes tightly, forcing jagged teeth to press into the soft flesh of the man’s cheeks. “Well now you do.”
This is your boss and you, tucked away safe and warm in his office, are something special. But a part of you knew this already. You downplay it when the other girls point it out. You pretend not to notice the clear signs of favoritism but they’re there in even the smallest interaction between the two of you. Since day one San’s been your protector, your admirer. You’ve denied it a million times, convincing yourself you’re simply making more of things than what’s there. Still, after everything happened you couldn’t fathom running into the arms of anyone else.
You were dancing like any other night—working your section and getting your tips—when some asshole grabbed you by the arm, demanding your presence in one of the private rooms. Usually you could count on security to drag him out but on weekends the club gets packed and things slip through the cracks. Sadly tonight you were one of them so, like a proper lady, you told him to kiss your ass and sent the tip of your stiletto crashing into his balls. You might be a stripper but that doesn’t mean you’re some thing that men can treat however they wish. It’s a lesson he had to learn the hard way and you were happy to teach it to him. Two shots past drunk and embarrassed by your rejection he snapped, spewing the most vile things you’ve ever heard about yourself—about your body.
It isn’t news to you that you’re one of the bigger girls here. San says that’s what makes you special, why customers come in to blow a check on you and you alone. He’s right, your bank account says so. The customers love you, they eat up every inch of your plush body. By all means you should feel like the baddest bitch in this building, simply because you are, but in that moment his words had reduced you to nothing. A few seconds ago you were twirling around the pole like a goddess now you found yourself scurrying back to the dressing room with tears in your eyes.
At least that’s where you intended to go. Somewhere along the way you changed course, riding the velvet lined elevator to the third floor where San’s office sits at the end of a long hallway. At the time you hadn’t considered how much this might escalate the situation because, quite honestly, you didn’t care. More than feeling hurt, you were pissed the fuck off. Your tears were of anger and, whether you felt it at the time or not, you wanted that motherfucker to pay for it.
This place you work at. There’s more to it than what’s on the surface. It’s easy to get so distracted by the luxury and the lights and the pretty girls dancing that you miss the truth of it all. In fact, that’s the point, but you know a mafia front when you see one. You aren’t oblivious. You know what this is, who San is, and maybe that’s exactly why you were tapping at his door. A damsel in distress in black lace lingerie.
San’s heart dropped when he saw his favorite girl in tears. He stopped everything, sending his men away so he could place all of his focus on you. Resting his jacket over your shoulders, he gently cradled your cheeks, brushing the tears away to ask quite simply, “Who did it?”
You explained everything, how that asshole grabbed you and the things he said, and San’s anger grew quietly, simmering beneath a surface of calm. He took a seat at his desk, setting you down comfortably in his lap, and pulled up the security cameras. “Tell me when you see him, okay, baby?” he instructed sweetly, his palm massaging the smoothness of your thigh.
You nodded, struggling to focus on the screen with his hand on your thigh and him calling you “baby”. San touching you wasn’t a rare occasion but it was always something light. A hand on the small of your back or fingertips grazing your arm. Never this purposeful—this intimate. You couldn’t help imagining how it might feel if he gripped a little harder, moved a little higher. You felt your heart begin to race, your temperature rising the longer you sat there in his lap.
“That’s him” you sniffled, spotting that familiar face on the screen. San studied the screen a moment before turning back to you. “I’ll take care of it” he promised, his hand riding your thigh and coming to rest at the gentle curve of your hip. “And no more crying, baby. You’re too pretty to cry.” Too pretty to cry? Oh, but you were crying, absolutely weeping, only between your thighs this time.
San disappeared from the office, leaving you too lost in the lingering haze of his touch to even think about your insecurities, but that only lasted so long. Alone in the quiet of his office, the self doubt began to creep back in. You tried to distract yourself by exploring your surroundings—the impressive collection of vintage whiskey, the gorgeously framed art hanging from the walls—but nothing could distract you from how uncomfortable you’d become in your own skin. It didn’t help that the office was lined with mirrors, reflecting glimpses of your figure with every turn.
At last out of distractions, you turn to face the mirrored image of yourself, letting San’s jacket slip to the floor. You strike a pose, a half hearted copy of something cute you might do on stage, and watch the way the fat of your body squishes together here or there. You strike another then another then another but they’re there in every pose. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs. Your weight shows in all of them. Pinching your lower belly you think of how the other girls have had work done. Maybe if you got some done yourself…
“I left him out back. Clean him up before someone sees” San says, pushing through the door, his phone pressed to his ear.
You jump a bit at his arrival, scrambling to grab the jacket, but San slips in behind you, closing his arms around your waist before you can retrieve your safety blanket. You tense at first but find yourself settling into his embrace as if it’s the most natural place for you to be.
“So, what was that?” he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he inhales your perfume and the sweet scent of honey and jasmine fills his lungs. You smell as beautiful as you are, as beautiful as everything about you is.
“How’d everything go?” you press, quick to change the subject. Noticing a series of tiny red scrapes on the knuckles of his right hand, you carefully take it into yours, assessing the damage.
San shrugs it off like it’s nothing. It still stings but it’s far from the worst pain he’s ever felt. “I said I’d take care of it. It’s been taken care of.”
You giggle at the contrast of something so menacing being spoken by someone so regal. “San, you make it sound like you killed him.”
He leans into your neck, his lips grazing your skin on their way up to your ear. You shiver at the contact and his hold on you tightens, your bodies pressed flush against each other so that you can feel his bulge pressed into the plush of your ass.
“Killed him? Almost” he whispers, “I answered your question so it’s only fair you answer mine, isn’t it? What were you doing? I came in and you were…” San pinches your belly, his fingertips planting adoration where there was once doubt.
“I…uh…I was…” you stutter, searching your brain for a believable lie but you can’t find a single one.“There’s this doctor, a few of the girls have gone to him to get some work done, and I was just thinking, I don’t know, maybe...why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and anyway, it’s silly.”
“It is silly” he agrees, notes of that quiet, controlled anger you witnessed earlier resurfacing, “But you’re wrong to say that I don’t care. I care about how you feel about yourself, I care about you. You must know that.”
“I mean, I know you care about me. You care about all of the girls” you say, hesitant to accept this as a profession of anything in particular.
San spins you around, pinning you between the warmth of his body and the cool mahogany of the desk. “I don’t care for any other woman the way I do you.”
There it is, a profession of something very particular. He’d hoped that you’d seen it by now. He wonders if he didn’t do a good enough job of showing you. It’s been so long before you, years even, that he had feelings like this for anyone. The world he operates in doesn’t allow for soft spots. Soft spots are how you make mistakes and when mistakes are life or death you can’t afford to make them but he couldn’t help himself with you. You caught his eye the day you walked in for your audition and you’re all he’s been able to see since. You’re so delicate, so beautiful, a perfect contrast to the toughness of his life. It’s why he protects you—why he always will.
“Your body…” he says, his palms racing up and down your curves, “It’s perfect. There’s nothing about it that needs fixing. If you let that doctor touch you I’ll break both of his hands.” San’s gaze is heavy with lust, months of longing just begging to be satisfied. It burns him up inside, sets fire to his very being, and being kissed by the flames of that need is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.
“Is that the way you romance women? With threats of violence?” you tease, draping your arms across his shoulders.
“Sometimes but usually it’s like this” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue parts your lips, twining around yours to deepen the kiss. His movements are careful and deliberate. The kiss intoxicatingly slow.
San grabs you by the hips, lifting you onto the desk and you let out a little squeak of surprise as he sets you down. “You’re so fucking cute” he grins, spreading your thighs to fit perfectly between them.
“You think so?” you say so innocently it only makes him want to ravage you more.
Tangling his fingers in your hair, he tilts your head to look back at the mirror, “Don’t you?”
An unexpected wetness soaks the lace of your panties at the sight of your shared reflection. Nothing has changed about your body. It’s the same one you were picking apart, the same one you were doubting, and San loves everything about it. He praises it with his hands, with his fingertips, with whispered confessions of everything your body needs to hear.
”I watch you sometimes when you’re dancing” he says, effortlessly doing away with your bra, “I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself when you look the way you do. It’s like you’ve put a spell on me. My little witch.”
San captures one of your breasts, kneading the plump flesh in the palm of his hand. He pinches your bud between his fingers, tugging at it just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.
“But I don’t have any magic” you whimper, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. They pop open one by one, revealing a body that had to be sculpted by some divine feminine deity. You push the fabric away, your fingertips delighting in the perfection of her creation.
San’s free hand reaches between you, stroking your clit through your panties. He groans at how soaked you are, your juices leaking through the lace to coat his fingers in your juices. “You do have magic, baby” he whispers, tucking your panties to the side, “It’s right here.”
“Aah, Sannie” you moan, your hands sliding down his abs as his fingers stretch you open.
Your body falls back, a sharp chill coursing through you as your bare back hits the desk. San sinks his fingers deeper into your core, his cock stiffening at the sight of your body moving as hypnotically as it does on the pole. Only now it’s for him and only him. This is how San likes it, how he’s always wanted it to be. Him with his fingers buried deep into the warmth of your pussy, your walls greedily clenching around them, and you spread out across his desk, your gorgeous body on full display and your lips spilling out moans meant for his ears alone.
Kneeling between your legs he pulls your panties aside harder this time, nearly tearing the fabric as he knots it in his fist. He brings his thumb to your clit, toying with it just to see how your body twitches with every touch. “How can a girl be this perfect?” he says, nearly salivating, “Even your pussy’s gorgeous.” There’s an audible wet sound, another sweet whimper escaping your throat, as his fingers slip out of your core and his tongue takes its place.
“San, wait…” you beg, grabbing at his hair, but you’re too late. Your attempt at pacing yourself is useless. His tongue’s already filling the space between your walls, wiggling and curling against your sweet spot. His dark hair knots around your fingers, your hips raising to ride every wave his tongue sends washing over you.
San drags his tongue up through your petal soft folds, swirling it around your clit before diving into you again. He suckles at your clit, gently at first then faster, more ravenous. His gaze flicks up to you, taking in the way your belly jiggles and your breasts bounce. He’s drunk on your juices, already addicted to the way you coat his tongue. You taste like heaven and look like it too. It takes all of the self control he has to pry his mouth free of your pussy, snatching your panties down as he does.
Standing back up, he grips your thighs, spreading you open to watch the arousal drip from your pussy, leaving pretty little drops on his desk. Your eyes are glued to him as he unzips his pants, letting his cock fall right between your legs. The swollen tip throbs against your lower belly, leaking precum, warm and sticky, on your skin. You rock your hips, clenching around air, craving friction from that deliciously veiny cock of his.
“You want it, baby?” San teases, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. His length slips between your folds. They’re so smooth, so slick. Toying with your pussy’s like splashing in a lake. You’re wet enough to drown in.
“I want it, Sannie, aah, fuck…” you moan, your eyes widening at the realization that his tip’s pressed to your entrance now, stretching you the faintest bit.
“Then tell me how perfect your body is. Tell me you love it.” He pushes in an inch more, stopping to leave your hole spread wide around his cock, still needy and deprived.
The stretch has the room spinning, a single taste of him already making you want more. “My body’s, mmph, beautiful” you manage as he gradually feeds you more of him, “I love it.”
“Don’t stop. Keep telling me. Make me believe you” San demands, thrusting into you so hard that he bottoms out.
You cry out at the force of the thrust, your lashes fluttering away tears, “I love, aah, my body. I love my body. It’s beautiful. It’s…it’s…”
Tucking his hands behind your knees, San pushes them to your chest, snapping his hips against you hard enough that your thighs jiggle around him. All of you does. Every stroke of his cock makes you tremble and he’s hardly able to keep still himself. You’re so tightly wound around his cock that he can feel all the finer details of your walls. They’re glued to him, sucking him in every time he even thinks about pulling back.
Through heavy lids you watch the man you’ve only ever known to be a mountain crumble to pieces all because of you. San’s muscles are slick with sweat and a glossy haze dances over his eyes. His fingers are digging into your thighs, completely devouring them. He does what he can to swallow his moans but it’s impossible when you’re making him feel like his entire soul’s being snatched from his body.
“You feel so fucking good” he grunts, planting breathless kisses up your leg, “Come here.”
San props your ankles up on his shoulders, hooking an arm around you and sitting you up so that you’re close enough to kiss. He grinds against your sweet spot, forcing his tongue down your throat so that every moan you set free echoes between his cheeks. Gripping the back of your neck, he slams into you, harder, faster, forcing your body to give into him. He fucks you until your eyes are rolling back, your mind too blank to recall anything that happened before this moment. There’s no thought of the incident, no thought of your insecurities. High on euphoria, your body feels beautiful, every inch of it.
“S-San…” you whine, a familiar pressure building behind your belly. Your fingers begin to tingle as they cling to his muscles, searching for any stability they can reach.
“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he coos, not letting up on you, not even for a second.
Pulling his arm away he lets you fall back on the desk. With one hand cupping your breast and the other circling your clit, he watches you fall apart in the palms of his hands. For so long he’s had to watch you from afar, pretending that he wasn’t utterly obsessed with you, but now you’re all his. His pretty, moaning, teary eyed girl pouring your cum down his cock while you repeat his name like it’s the only word you know. He’s so singularly focused on watching you hit your high that his own takes him by surprise.
Grabbing him by the wrist, you lock eyes, a weak smile forming on your lips. “Fill me up, Sannie” you whisper, your voice sexy even in its brokenness.
San’s body shudders and you feel a new fullness inside of you. The warmth pools deep within you at first, cascading down your walls the more he empties himself into you. “Fuck, baby” he pants, catching himself before his body doubles over. He came so hard his ears are ringing and holding onto you is all he can do not to fall. You sit up to stroke his cheek and he kisses your wrist lovingly. You stare into each other’s eyes for a minute that lasts an eternity, letting yourselves get lost in one another’s gaze.
San breaks the trance with a kiss, holding you like one would the most precious thing they own. “Tell me, baby, how do you feel now?”
You contemplate his question, your attention drifting back to the reflection in the mirror. It’s all there. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs, and San looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world. You turn back to him with a smile, “Beautiful.”
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