#my expectations were getting a bit low as of recent

[mscherub]

Courting with Jade(Jade Leech x Reader)

Gender neutral reader, referred to as Perfect or Y/N ✦

Warnings!:

swearing as usual, just in my nature

Jade being…creepy. We like him for that tho ig…

Uneducated reader on merfolk mating rituals

Word count: approximately 2.63k

Exactly how long has it been since jade has been acting weird? Well…weirder than usual. He was a little more out of it, that being the nicest way to explain his actions. This is Jade we’re talking about, Jade, the man who was always pristine in looks and words, well mannered, knew proper etiquette while also being absolutely creepy nice…but the way he was acting now was different, going as far as calling it absurd, even!

Jade was never like this, he had never smiled so wide when you accidentally brushed your hand against his, and you have never ever seen that guy blush before, that is until you yawned while facing him after so graciously helping clean and close the lounge (which you only did for the money). It’s confusing, baffling, bewildering, yea, you get it. What happened to the mushroom obsessed eel boy? Maybe he ate one too many mushrooms and that’s why he’s acting like this. But, who knows why? Well, you want to. Jade, no matter how cynical he appeared to be, no matter how many threats he made that you didn’t quite know were empty or not, you liked him, and all this bullshit that he’s pulling is freaking you out way more than his normal personality!

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

Grim and you were in a tight situation, as usual. Money was running low, food stock was running low (more so Grim’s tuna), and the recent check from Crowley never managed to disappoint. How many thaumarks did you get, you ask? A whopping $650…again? Shit. It seemed his checks kept dwindling more and more by the month, which evidently caused you to have to score a job at the lounge, which Azul happily took your offer up on. Definitely wasn't just using you because he knew most of the student body liked you, pshhhh...

Azul was always there to lend you a helping hand when you needed it, although you usually never took his hand, physically and metaphorically speaking, but you had to these past few months, all because your little furbaby needs his food or he might just burn down Ramshackle, and you can definitely not afford that catastrophe right now. While working there, Jade grew a little closer to you but never ceased to be a pain in the ass, same with his brother, runs in the family you suppose. You look at the time and realize you have to get going.

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

Hours tick by, the lounge now closed for the night after a particularly busy day, and you just stand wiping the same spot on the table over and over again, zoning out as drowsiness overcomes you in a flash. How long had you been working? Let’s see, your shift started at around 2:00 p.m. which is when classes are usually over and– HOLY SHIT! As realization dawns on you as you look at the clock, you see It’s 1:30 in the morning.

You pause and you take a breath in, looking down at the table which you had been absentmindedly cleaning more than it needed to be. You pick up the rag and you throw it on the cart. Jade and Floyd looked as graceful as ever as they mopped the floor and wiped off the seats, their earrings jingling in sync it seemed. You sit down at a booth and take off your lounge uniform blazer and slip your gloves off…

“Stupid things…fuck my life, fuck this.” you murmur under your breath. You lean back and close your eyes. How did they do this? Did they do this every night? You knew Azul could be cruel, but damn…working them that long every day? You wouldn’t survive that, that’s all you know.

“Done already? Azul doesn’t like slackers, which I’m sure you know.” Jade smirks. You snap your eyes open, jumping a bit. His footsteps were always eerily silent, always catching anyone least expecting him to pop up off guard. You shake your head and sit up again, clearing your throat.

“Uh, yea. I’m done. Sorry.” you huff out, grabbing your gloves off the table. You look up at him, his smile never faltering.

“Ah, amazing job. Shall I walk you back to Ramshackle then?” He tilts his head. You narrow your eyes at him. That’s different. But you nod and grab your blazer, standing up.

Jade takes it right from your hands, holding it open so you can slip your arms in.

“I can do it myself” You sigh. You wait for him to do something, but he shakes the blazer and smirks even wider. What is up with him?

"I insist." He grins. You roll your eyes, and you slip your arms through the sleeves. Jade then gingerly slips his hand to the small of your back, rambling on about whatever it was that he has on his mind as he leads you out of the lounge. You’re way too tired to comprehend anything he says or even notice the hand placement, all you know is that your bed is calling your name.

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

You slump down on the couch in Ramshackle, kicking off your shoes and running a hand down your face, letting out a small yawn, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

Jade chuckles and watches from the doorway with evident amusement at your appearance and actions. “Difficult day I presume?” he chuckles. You are definitely not in the mood for his antics today.

“You were there the whole time, so yea, obviously. Goodnight, Jade.” you grumble and make a swatting motion with your hand towards him. He simply grins wider.

“Ah, humans are so different. In the deep, staying up long hours is essential to make sure you’re always safe, never let your guard down.” He muses. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the couch.

“Ok, well we aren’t in the deep and I honestly don’t care. Goodnight, Jade.” you say more sternly, slightly harsher than you had intended, but if he would leave you alone so you could sleep, that would be the best thing ever at this rate.

“Ah, ah. How harsh, Y/N, I was simply stating how we are superior as a species, all fun in games.” He chuckles again. “So angry it seems. You should join me for a hike one of these days, it helps to clear the mind, especially after such stressful situations.” he remarks.

“Yea, yea, sure, whatever.” You drawl on as you find your eyelids getting heavier and heavier.

“Would this weekend work then for a hike?”

“Sure. whatever. Yep. good, or whatever. Bye.” your words stumble out of your mouth as you slump down onto the couch more and sleep finally takes over, sending you into a well-deserved rest.

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

Well…that happened, you guess?

Over the next few days, you forget about what you said in your tired state, more focused and confused on the little trinkets you find in the pocket of your work uniform whenever you arrive back at Ramshackle late at night, each one ranging from something shiny, like a pearl, or something like a scale from who knows who. You don’t know who these “gifts” are from, and it’s ominous in a way…but you don’t have time to question it, and you just throw it in a small box, just keeping the thought of money in your mind to keep the motivation of making bank to continue to have a place to live. Crowley, when you see him, it’s on sight, instantly.

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

The weekend comes quick, and you honestly forgot about the whole “Deal” you made with Jade, just happily awaiting your check from Azul.

You practically skip your way to the lounge, the only word on your mind being “money.” You hum a tune quietly as you push your way past people waiting in line to get a table and head straight to the VIP lounge.

“Azulllll, I believe you owe me something!” You smile as you push open the door. In the room is the octotrio themselves, Azul scribbling on paper, Floyd looking bored out of his mind, and Jade dressed in– dressed in hiking gear, which jogs a memory in your mind. Your “agreement” to go on a hike with him, which seemed innocent, but knowing him, he was hiding something.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd perks up and instantly stands up, walking over to you and giggling happily. He picks you up and hugs you tight. You let out a short puff of air as most of it is squeezed out of you. Azul clicks his tongue and grumbles under his breath, going to fish through his drawer as you’re being suffocated to death. Jade gets up as well, smiling calmly at the scene before him. Floyd sets you down, bored already, and walks away, although he seems a bit wearier of Jade all of a sudden, which is quite unusual.

Azul then comes over as well and hands you an envelope with what you hope is a thick stack of money inside.

“Thank you.” You smile triumphantly. Jade, finally having enough of being quiet, clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

“Perfect, I thought you would have come prepared with proper attire, but it seems I have been mistaken.” he grins. You feel your stomach sink and you look away from him. You sigh and look down at your shoes. To be fair, you didn’t exactly have proper gear to begin with anyways, but you also weren't trying to go on this little trip in the first place.

“Fear not, the Mountain Lover Club is always prepared for newcomers, which means luckily for you, we have just the correct items.” Why was he using “we?” Only Jade was in the club, ah…whatever, the bigger problem here is that not only will you be hiking, but you will also be hiking alone, with Jade.

You purse your lips and nod. Azul sighs, gaining both yours and Jade's attention. “Discuss this somewhere else, I am a very busy man.” he huffs as he glances over at the door. Jade instantly takes the hint and walks out towards the door, looking over his shoulder to make sure you follow him.

Uh oh.

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

After getting suited up and getting permission to head off campus, rightfully excused by Jade since he was president of his club, you and Jade hiked up a mountain, a pretty steep one at that.

“Oh. Look, these mushrooms are special to this mountain due to its higher level of humidity. See how it grows along the trees and logs? Certainly fascinating.” He thrums out as he continues to observe the blue, glowing mushrooms. Meanwhile, you were leaning against a tree, heaving in and out as you finally were able to take a break to catch your breath after climbing, and the worst part of it all? You “were not to the desired destination yet,” quote Jade.

You glare over at him, but your gaze softens as you see him so interested in the mushrooms, his facial features softer and lacking that formal facade he’s so perfectly crafted and wore around everyone at NRC. You push yourself off of the tree and kneel down next to him, reaching out a hand to touch the blue thing, but he stops you.

“They are quite deadly. Toxic, in fact. It's better not to touch them, especially to prevent any incidents where you may inhale any spores released.” He schools you, looking down at you with a smile. You pull your hand away and keep it glued to your side, ok, no touching any blue glowing mushrooms, got it, though that should have already been common sense. An awkwardly pleasant silence falls between the two of you. Jade takes one last look before standing up again, holding a hand out to you. You take it and you both continue to hike up again.

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

“Jade? I have something that’s been bugging me.” You sigh out, the thought finally being too much to ignore.

“Give me a name and you’ll never have to deal with them again.” He answers firmly. You pause and open your mouth, then close it again, a confused look on your face.

“That’s…not what I meant.” You murmur out. Jade simply smiles and chuckles.

“My misunderstanding, what seems to be the trouble then?” he inquiries. You recall how you kept finding the little items in your coat pockets after work, thinking it had to have been him since he walked you back to ramshackle after working at the lounge.

“The little things in my pockets–”

“Those were from me. Why has it been bugging you, hmmm?” he hums as he ducks under a branch, continuing to move, his long legs helping him easily step over long roots sticking up from the ground. You pause your movements and stick your hands in your pockets, shrugging.

“Dunno, not like you.” you whisper out. He stops and turns to look back at you, quirking an eyebrow as he stares at you. But the look quickly goes away as quick as it came, and he smirks.

“You’ll find out soon. Follow along.” He turns back around and heads up the path again.

“Hey! No, Jade, I wanna know, stop being all secretive–

Jade pushes back a tree branch and reveals an open spot at the top of the mountain which overlooks the entire mountain range. The high peaks in the distance are spotted with snow, and the pine trees in mass quantities spread across the range, fog blanketing the dips and valleys. You stop in your rambling and go quiet as you slowly walk up next to him, your mouth agape at the sight.

“I…Woah.” Is all you can manage to stutter out.

“Truly a most ethereal sight. Things like this don’t exist under the sea, another thing that makes both worlds so different from one another, which evidently brings me to another drastically different aspect of the cultures.” he smiles and looks down at you, watching as the sun hits your features just right, casting you in a sort of golden glow. You turn your head up at him and a look of bewilderment flashes across it.

“I thought you to be smarter, Perfect. But one can only hold another in such high regards for little time.” he sighs, a pout on his face, though as well as you knew him, you knew it was just a ploy. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“I certainly expected you to catch onto my advances. You see, Y/N, I was courting you. Had I been too subtle?” his pout deepens. You’re speechless. You look into his eyes, and damn! That fucking pout, as fake as the meaning behind it was, he was incredibly cute at the moment, and the sun giving him an incandescent look didnt help either. You clear your throat and try to mutter something, anything out, but nothing comes. You glance away, flustered.

So that’s what all this weird behavior has been coming from him? He’s been trying to court you. It seemed unbelievable, but when you look back at him, he’s smiling his well-worn sinister smile, though it seems more genuine.

“You’re blushing, Perfect.” he snickers. “At a loss for words?”

Who knows what comes over you, maybe the past confusing moments finally making sense and you wanting to get revenge on him, but you pull him down by the collar of his jacket and you place a kiss on his cheek.

“Bastard.” You grumble as you pull away. Now it’s his turn to be left speechless, a faint tint of pink to his cheeks, but it quickly fades as he smiles again. His gaze softens again

“Glad you feel the same, Y/N…it’s truly a relief.”

Hope you enjoyed my lovelies! I’ll be posting more soon, I promise, lol. I’m just trying to get all my works over to here, but two other ones I have not posted are on my Ao3 —> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_cherub

I was editing this on the bus so mb if I missed any spelling mistakes or anything like that! That’s it though <3

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, repost if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[cyle-stuff]

Yo forget about this poll I made!

The gay shit is actually happening!

I’m still surprise that they animated the hand holding, I didn’t think they would

But they did!!

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[dollarbils]

tell me i’m your only fan | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your most active fan on onlyfans soon piqued your interest as she became something much more.

warnings. phone sex, ofstar!reader, (i probably made up half of the features on onlyfans)

request masterlist

regardless of the public opinion, you quite liked your job. you’d made the switch to onlyfans just recently, finding it a much more comfortable platform, and most importantly: much more profitable.

most of your ‘fans’ so to say were the regular dynamic of people you’d expect. rich, older men with nothing better to spend all their money on. but curiously, a huge part of your audience was women. in particular one woman. your favourite, you’d call her. she’d been subscribed for about a month now, consistently watching your uploads and streams. often taking the spotlight as well, sending gifts and paying large amounts of money for personalised content. but what seriously did it for you, was when she bought your entire wish list five minutes after you’d published it, requesting a special ‘unboxing’ of everything she’d bought you.

naturally, it didn’t take long for you to start talking. it was difficult to remember she was one of your fans, your conversations straying far away from anything you’d ever talked to a fan about. she seemed to care about you, take interest in your personal life. and once you’d gotten wrapped up, it was almost too easy to get attached.

“god just keep speaking, baby.” her voice was almost a whine, as she relished in your soft laughter and emotive expression.

“how are you always turned on?” you remarked somewhat as a joke, knowing it was true though.

“i’m talking to the woman i jerk off to, i think it’s justified.” she never failed to be bold, often taking you by surprise.

“well you’ll find my recent uploads have been the outcome of what some would call a ‘muse’. you’re quite sexy yourself, babe.” she groaned and it went straight to your core, the familiar pulse settling in.

“jesus. it’s like your tryna make be bust a nut in my pants right now.” the masculinity to her words only made them more filthy, urging you to rile her up some more.

“i won’t deny it.” she chuckled, a momentary pause before she sighed.

“i bet you tell that to all of them, huh? your fans, they all think they got lucky, that your reserved for them.” her words stung quite a bit, knowing the truth was far from it.

“hardly, it was pretty stupid of me to give you my number. i’d take it as a sign that you did get lucky.” she almost scoffed at your words.

“i’m going to need to cut back on the glazing if your gonna act like this.” she was serious now, testing the waters before committing.

“oh yeah? tell me what’s so wrong with my behaviour.” a low sound from the back of her throat revealed the success of your words. clearly it was turning her on.

“you’re really testing me, baby. you can’t even imagine what i’d do if i was there with you right now.” you felt a pool in your underwear forming, liking how this was going.

“please, tell me.” her breath hitched, her confidence faltering slightly. but when she spoke again you’d never have questioned her confidence.

“i’d treat you like what you are. a fucking slut.” her filthy words only turned you on more, your skin tingling at the sound of her heavy breaths through the phone speaker.

“oh yeah? and what are you gonna do about it? you’re not here, you cant stop me from doing anything.” she chuckled, a mocking tone following.

“oh please angel, it’s cute you think so. i bet your hand is doing some filthy things as we speak. am i turning you on, baby?” your hand stopped at your lower stomach in an act of a sort of shame, your breaths quickening.

“i’m guessing the silence means i’m right. don’t deny yourself babe, touch yourself for me.” you couldn’t help but follow her demands, seeking your own pleasure along with your submission.

“fuck.” she laughed softly, again, enjoying the vocal effect she was having on you.

“you’re gonna kill me angel.” a smile formed on your lips, as you continued pumping your own fingers into your heat.

“tell me i’m your only fan.” her words were seductive, a plea to recognise her as more than a fan.

“you’re my favourite fan.” your reply seemed to satisfy her as she sunk deeper into her mattress, the sheets ruffling through the phone as she bit back a moan.

“are you close?” she mumbled, evidently riddled with her own sweat release.

“fuck, y-yeah.” you stuttered, the heat of the moment taking over, fogging up your senses.

“i like that title, favourite fan. sure seems well deserved, doesn’t it.”

“more than well deserved.” you huffed, slightly out of breath as you chuckled into the phone.

[entitled-fangirl]

Bravery.

Cregan Stark x Strong!reader; Aemond x forced betrothed!reader

Summary: Aemond drags Y/n Strong alongside him on his journey to appease the great Lord Stark. Seems she's more loyal to her deceased father and brother than she cares to admit.

Warnings: cursing, manipulation, talks of death

Masterlist

.........................................

"You're a fucking fool, Aemond," she sneered at him.

"You don't think my conscience speaks that enough?!" He exclaimed. "I made a mistake, but my love, I did not kill my brother's heir. That was Rhaenyra's choice. Not mine."

"You killed one of hers!" She argued. 

"I did not pay men to become traitors to the crown," he growled.

"You do not have to," she sneered lowly. "You have the greatest dragon alive in your claws. You're like a snake the way you spit venom on everything you touch!"

Silence filled the room, the two staring at one another in full contemplation of what had just been said.

"Aemond, I-"

"ENOUGH!" He yelled, throwing his hands up. He took a breath and continued. "I have given everything to my mother and brother. My grandsire. This kingdom. And I get nothing."

"True service is doing so without expecting return."

"I expect recognition for sacrifice." Aemond glared.

"And what of your brother's sacrifice for the kingdom? His own heir?" When his jaw ticked, she continued. "And do not think for a moment that Rhaenyra has not sacrificed, because she knows it better than you. Better than anyone."

"Better than my mother?" He dared to ask.

Her mouth opened to combat him, but she had nothing so her mouth closed again.

"I'm tired of sacrifices," he explained.

"Do you believe that your family is the only one? What of the scattered high lords throughout the kingdom? What of me?"

"What of you?" He asked, as if the thought was ridiculous.

Her jaw dropped a bit in shock. "You don't…" She then scoffed, the shock turning to anger. "You don't think I sacrifice? My duty is my sacrifice."

"Oh, and mine is not?" He asked. 

"If this is your duty, then you're piss poor at doing it!"

Something flashed in his eye, the blue somehow holding red to it, as if that's all he could see. "Get out." His voice was low, clearly a final warning to her. 

She took that as it was, going to leave. She paused in the doorway, "We leave on the morr-"

"Go."

…

With the recent happenings, Aegon had almost reconsidered sending the two to the North to reason with Lord Cregan Stark. The thought had been questioned, as well as the girl's loyalty. But all in all, what family did she have but her older brother Larys who had taken her under his wing after the mysterious death of their father and brother? They couldn't ever see the girl daring to side with her bastard nephews. The idea was ridiculous. The Strong house under Larys refused to claim the boys, and so was she expected to.

So when they arrived in Winterfell, Cregan was surprised. 

He knew they were coming. They had said so moons ago, but that was before the attacks, before Jace's visit, and he had figured it would be put aside until matters grew better.

As if war ever got better.

"My prince," the stone-faced lord greeted. "My Lady Strong."

"I thank you for your hospitality, Lord Stark," Aemond smirked. "The Crown thanks you."

Cregan gave a small nod. "Yes. I see." His eyes dart to Y/n, and back to Aemond. "Please rest and we'll discuss in the morn-"

"-Let's discuss now," Aemond remarked, dragging his betrothed along and moving past the Lord.

Cregan's eyes watched the two walk by. Though he already knew his loyalty was to the blood oath he made to Jacaerys, he would enjoy watching the Hightower squirm for his honor.

…

"And what might appease you then?" Aemond asked. 

"And what could the crown have that I would want?" Cregan countered. 

"Gold, honor, protection… dragons," he listed.

"I have gold, honor, and though I have no dragons, I hold a direwolf that does more than enough protection." Cregan leaned back in his chair. "You are asking a Stark to go back on an oath made by my father. We do not do so easily."

"Tell me what you want then," Aemond reasoned.

"It will take some time to figure that out, I'm afraid."

"That is the one thing I cannot give you. We're running out of time."

Cregan gives a curt nod, then completely turns his attention to Y/n, "My lady, surely some sustenance would do you well. You've traveled far."

Her eyes snapped to him, now realizing that he was indeed talking to her. "Do not fret over me, my lord. I am completely content."

Aemond smirked, reaching beside him to grab at the back of her neck. "Indeed. Don't worry over her. Let us focus on our business here." He leaned towards her, "To bed with you. The morning will come sooner than expected."

Y/n stood, giving Cregan one last look before quietly excusing herself.

The door closed behind her and Aemond gave a sigh. "Women are life's greatest pain."

"Women are images of the Mother," Cregan snapped harshly. There would be no talk like this in his halls. "That is your religion, is it not?"

"Rather she be like the Maiden," Aemond retorted.

Cregan chewed on his bottom lip to keep his thoughts straight. "And what would you wish to be, my prince? What beacon do you follow?"

"The Father," He answered without thought. "I follow the Father."

The northern man stood with a loud creak from his large chair and began to lightly pace the room. "Justice is a narrow slope. Sometimes you become so focused on it for others that you become the judged."

"Meaning what?" Aemond's eye narrowed. 

Cregan shrugged, as if he didn't mean anything by it, though he clearly did. "Meaning… we all have our faults, my prince. If I lived for justice and justice alone, I'd find myself paying for every crime I committed."

"Don't Starks live by honor?" 

Cregan's lip turned upwards. "Aye. But those do not compare. Not in the slightest."

Aemond picked at his nails, his hands on the table. "How so, Stark?"

He stopped and considered the prince's question- more… how to answer it without saying all of his thoughts. "Judgment can easily turn to anger. Honor upholds hope over anything else."

"You can't compare something so complex as if they're simple things like night and day," Aemond taunted. "You cannot be all honor, for you'll be the one ruled, and your people will stomp you into the ground. Judgment keeps peace-"

"-At what cost?" Cregan countered, his head tilted as he dared to argue with the man.

Aemond's jaw ticked, and Cregan quickly realized that he may have said the wrong thing. The prince's head tilted down for a moment, then back up as he decided his words. "You believe Rhaenyra has honor?" He asked, pure venom in his tone, though his metaphorical fangs weren't showing.

Stark paused. "It doesn't matter what I think. Does it?"

Aemond's lips turned up into an amused smirk. "So stuck in your idea of honor that you won't do what's best for your people?" His arm waved dramatically. "A dragon lies outside your castle and still it does nothing to your 'honor'?"

"I won't go back on my father's word. That is my answer to you."

Aemond slammed his fists onto the table and stood with a glare that could melt the Wall. "And your answer is death!"

Cregan met his glare with one of his own. "So be it."

…

He let Aemond stay that night against his better judgment. He should have made him leave, but the thought of dragging the Lady Strong into their fight cause an ache in him. 

The next morning, he stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. He had a lot on his mind, and no way to fix them.

"Jace's promise to you must have been grand," a voice piped up from behind him.

Cregan turned to see Y/n standing there with a polite smile to her. He felt himself grinning. "More of mine to him, my lady. He'll accomplish great things for the Realm."

She hummed. If she caught onto his meaning, she didn't voice it. "Tell me about him. My nephew Jace."

Cregan's face fell a bit. "My lady-"

"-Lord Stark," she said with a knowing look. "I only meant that I will be married to Aemond soon, and therefore Jace will soon be my nephew. I don't care about titles. I care about Jace."

He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "The prince is… honest. And kind. And quite fair. Should he be named the successor, then I hold no fears for the Realm."

"He seems to be like his father," she quipped. "Harwin was… His very essence was beautiful. I wish I remembered him more."

Cregan ran his tongue across his teeth. He knew that Jace was no Velaryon as well, but he found himself not caring. Jace was more than the lack of royal blood that ran through him.

"Aegon holds the crown, though," she admitted heavily as if the very thought of it was horrid to her.

Cregan shuffled his weight to his other foot. "Tell me. Why are you marrying such a fool of a man?"

"Aemond is," she hesitated, realizing there was no point in defending something that has no defense. "It wasn't by choice."

"Stay in Winterfell."

Her head shot up, her wide eyes meeting his confident ones. "No."

His nose twitched. "Why not?"

"I can't. He'll have my head. And… and Rhaenyra would never accept me-"

"-You don't know that."

She sniffled and studied him. "What you do mean?"

Cregan cleared his throat as he prepared to finally say the thing he'd been holding back. "Jace spoke of your kindness. From when they visited King's Landing just before the death of the King. You… you welcomed them more than his own family."

He was right in that. She had. And she had scolded and fought with Aemond endlessly that night about it after helping clean Luke's bloody nose and Jace's split knuckles. She shifted uncomfortably, "I suppose you're right."

"What I mean by all this is," he paused and heaved a sigh. "If you and Jace are truly made of the same blood as I know you are, then you cannot idly sit by while your brother's sons' inheritances are taken."

The thought brought back the tears from her fight with Aemond not a day ago. 

Aemond had killed Harwin's boy. 

How could she sit by and let herself be married to such a man?

"Larys is like a spider," she whispered, unsure if Cregan even heard it. "You crawl into his web and… and you only realize the dangers of it when your hands are tied."

Cregan gave a tiny nod.

"I'm tired of his web. I may be tied to Aemond forever if I do this."

"Then stay here. I'll get you to Dragonstone."

"Those are too high of promises. Even for a Stark."

Cregan's shoulders moved back. "Starks do not forget an oath."

"What of Vhagar?"

"What of Vhagar?" He retaliated. "She's useless here in the cold. And to unleash an attack on the North is to seal the victor of this war before it truly begins."

She let out a small scoff and threw up her hands. "You Starks and your bravery. Do you think that's what makes a man? Bravery? Bravery only makes a man dead."

"Then I'll die contently," he calmly answered. His head tilted. "Will you?"

Her eyes shifted down to the northernman's lips, noticing the small quirk to them as if the strongforce of a man was somehow holding back a smile. 

"I die regardless. Might as well be for my brother's sons."

....................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Stress Relief

Summary: After a recent promotion, Javi has had a lot on his plate. Thankfully, you know just what to do to help him de-stress.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, post season 3)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (make safe choices pls), oral (m receiving), creampie, size kink (ish?), praise kink, sex as stress relief, Subby, whimpering Javi because giving him a surprise blowjob when you know he's stressed would make him crumble, this is literally porn without a plot WHOOPS

A/N: Shoutout to my job for having a system wide data outage today so I didn't have to work and got to write this instead 🤪 Poor bby cow eyes deserves all the stress relief in the world, and who am I to deny him 🤷🏼‍♀️ Also proud of myself because this is the first thing I've written without an obscene breeding kink in God knows how long, gold stars for me LMAO

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

“You’re still working?” 

“No, I just really like sitting here and going through all this fucking paperwork for fun.” Javi sighed, sarcasm oozing out of his words as he leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

As thankful as Javi was for his much more structured, low risk job at the Laredo Sheriff's Department compared to his time back in Colombia, his recent promotion had put way more on his plate than he had expected. 

Begrudgingly, Javi had been bringing work home with him most nights to make up for what he couldn’t finish in the office, leaving him in an exceptionally sour mood that he was spending his nights finishing paperwork instead of spending time with you. 

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be an asshole, Querida.” Javi huffed, upset with himself that any ounce of him was resorting to taking his frustrations out on you. “I just- I’ve just been really stressed about trying to get all this shit done.” 

“Really? I can’t tell. You don’t seem stressed at all.” You quietly teased, your sarcasm enough to at least crack a small smile out of his pouted frown. 

Pushing the office door open, you softly padded into the room, placing yourself behind Javi’s desk chair and draping your arms around his shoulders, gently resting your chin on his shoulder. His hands reached up to wrap around your arms now resting against his chest, his thumbs rubbing soft circles onto your skin as he let out a heavy sigh, your presence flooding him with at least a little bit of calm amongst the chaos.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You asked, pecking a soft kiss onto the scratchy stubble of his cheek. 

“No, it’s just some paperwork shit.” 

“You sure?” 

“No, thank you though, Hermosa. I promise I’ll be done soon, baby.” 

Javi assumed his reply and gentle pat to your arm still wrapped around him would have enough to send you back out of his office so he could finish the rest of his work, but as your lips began to slowly travel from his cheek to down his neck and back up to nibble at his ear while your hands slid down his chest, he slowly realized that your offer to help had nothing to do with the actual work he needed to finish. 

“You sure there’s nothing? It sure seems like you could use some stress relief, Javi.” The tone of your voice shifting from sweet and innocent to low and sultry, the whisper of your words dancing in Javi’s ear and fingertips raking lower across his stomach and thighs making his breath hitch in the back of his throat as he realized what kind of “help” you were planning to offer him.

You smirked as you watched the bulge in his slacks begin to stiffen, your hand just grazing along the seam of his crotch while you kissed his neck, sucking at his pulse point and nipping at his skin. You could practically feel Javi melting into his chair at your touch, hoping that your plan would provide your husband with some much needed stress relief. 

“Pobrecito (Poor thing). You’re so tense. And so hard,” You laughed quietly to yourself, hand now cupping the full blown erection in his pants, “You gonna let me help you, baby? Help you get rid of some of this stress?” 

You began to swivel his desk chair to face you, Javi’s lips already parted for his heavy breaths as his hungry gaze met yours. Slowly, you climbed into his lap, your legs straddling over his hips as your hands ran up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt to expose his soft and tanned skin. 

Your mouths met in a hungry clash of tongues and teeth, capturing Javi’s muffled moans as you kissed him with an electric intensity that already had him needily bucking his hips up into you, desperate to ease how painfully hard he was from the few short moments since your proposition. 

Javi could barely find it in his mind to string together a coherent sentence, frantically nodding his head in agreement to your question between sloppy kisses, letting his hands roam down your back until they were grabbing your ass, kneading the plump flesh in his grasp. 

“Use your words, Javi. You want me to take care of you?” You cooed, grinding your hips into his lap as you watched his head tip back against the chair, jaw going slack and mind running blank as you rubbed against the straining fabric of his pants. 

“Fuck. P-Please, baby.” He moaned, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he gulped, trying to use any ounce of composure he could to somehow make words travel from his brain to his mouth. 

“Good boy.” You smirked, placing one last kiss on his lips before climbing off his lap to settle yourself between his legs on the floor, letting your fingers toy with the clasp of his belt buckle until it broke free.

“Fuck me.” Javi whispered to himself under his breath, watching you free his belt to carefully unzip his slacks, lifting his hips just enough to help you pull down his boxers to reveal his aching cock, tip already red and precum weeping from his slit. 

“Maybe if you behave and let me take care of you, then yes.” You teased before letting your kisses trail up his thighs, inching closer and closer to his length, only making him groan more. His hand ran through the dark locks of his thick brown hair, trying to center himself enough to keep from busting right then and there. 

Your hands ran up and down his thighs as you scooted closer to him, kisses trailing behind the gentle graze of your fingertips up towards his length. You couldn’t help but smirk at him with a devilish grin, seeing how needy and worked up he already was without you even touching him yet. 

Letting your lips inch closer and closer to the base of his cock, your hand wrapped carefully around him, your thumb swiping over his tip and collecting the precum that had been leaking from it, sending a shiver down his spine and a low groan in his chest.

Slowly, your kisses made their way up his length, your lips replacing your hand, tenderly licking at sucking at his tip, eliciting a low groan from deep within his chest. “Relax, Javi. Let me take care of you, okay?” You cooed, letting his cock tap against your tongue before licking a long strip from base to tip, the sensation making him shutter. 

“O-kay. Fuck- Yeah, okay, baby.” He managed to stammer out, looking down at you perched between his legs, beginning to sink your mouth down on his length, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him hitting the back of your throat, coming back off him with a pop and a satisfied smile, batting your lashes at him. 

Javi’s head hit the back of his chair as you began to repeat the motion, slowly taking the full length of his cock in and out of your mouth, letting his tip graze the back of your throat with each movement.

Letting your tongue drag up his shaft, your lips wrapped around his tip, sucking and flicking at his most sensitive spots. One hand was wrapped around his cock and working in tandem with your mouth, while the other grasped at his bare thigh, fingertips digging into his skin. 

You began to pick up your pace, shifting your hand to cup his balls so you could take him back into your throat, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

You couldn’t help but let a small smirk form between your lips as you worked at his cock, seeing and hearing just how wrecked Javi was from the short time that you had gone down on him, quiet whimpers and moans escaping from his lips, followed by muffled whispers of mixed expletives in Spanish and English to himself in any attempt to keep from spilling down your throat just as soon as you had started. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… F-fuck me. You feel- mierda- you feel so good, Hermosa.” Javi managed to stammer out between gasps, looking down at you nestled between his legs with a desperate expression painted across his face, already feeling his balls beginning to tense and stomach start to swirl. 

While you knew it wouldn’t take much more to get Javi to your intended point of stress relief, you selfishly couldn’t deny the fact that you were now also in need of your own relief, feeling the arousal that had been pooling in your underwear, coating the inside of your thighs and forcing you to squeeze them together in attempts to ease your growing ache. 

Pulling off Javi’s cock and planting a soft kiss to his tip, you peered up at him with a devilish grin, phrasing your next proposition as a question, even though you undoubtedly already knew what his answer would be. 

“You wanna cum down my throat, or cum inside me? You choose, handsome.” You cooed, fingertips grazing the inside of his thighs as your kisses trailed behind, teasing Javi to the point you were half convinced he might cum just like this, considering his half coherent babbles as he tried to string together words to form any sort of thought. 

“I-inside. Fuck- Let me cum inside you, please.” He stammered, nodding his head frantically in confirmation of what you already knew would be his answer. 

Gripping your hands around his thighs to push yourself up to stand, you reached down to tug the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, quickly followed by your bra, both now crumpled in a pile on the floor. 

You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at how Javi was gawking at you and your now bare chest, eyes bulging out of his skull and jaw hitting the floor as if he was a goddamn cartoon and it was the first time he had seen you topless in his entire life. 

Your bottom half slowly followed the same fate as your top, pants and underwear shuffling down your hips and legs until they were pooled around your ankles, leaving you completely naked as you began to crawl back into Javi’s lap. 

You let your legs straddle over his hips, your cunt ghosting over his cock as you placed your hands on his stomach, letting them slide up his chest until they were buried in the thick locks of his dark hair, gripping and tugging his curls while your mouth engulfed his in an electric kiss. 

A soft moan rumbled in your chest as his firm grasp found a home on your hips, his fingers digging into the meat of your stomach, holding on for dear life while he felt you hovering over his length. 

“Please, Hermosa. I need to feel you, baby.” He whispered into your ear, now all but begging for you to sink down onto his cock and let himself get lost in the mesmerizing warmth and wetness of you. 

Reaching below you, you wrapped your hand around his cock, positioning it beneath you to lower yourself down, whimpering at the sweet stretch and sting of his girth, letting his tip kiss your cervix as he filled you with every inch of himself that you could take. For as many times as you had found yourself in this position, you were convinced that you would never get over just how full you felt with Javi inside you, and how breathtakingly incredible it felt. 

Cupping Javi’s strong jaw in your hands, your forehead rested against his as you let your hips start to grind into his, long and languid circles of your lower half, rolling back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. 

“Fuck me. Holy fuck.” Javi groaned, his hands snaking up your front to grab your breasts, kneading the soft flesh greedily in his hands. His fingers reached for your pebbled nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger, the new sensation sending a jolt of pleasure to your core. 

That, combined with the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously on your clit and the way Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot was already making you see stars, vision going white and brain going blank from just how good he felt buried inside you.

Instinctively, you rocked your hips faster, feeling an all too familiar tingle begin to build at the base of your spine. Almost as if Javi could sense the way your cunt was starting to clench around his length, he couldn’t help but buck his hips up into yours, his thrusts filling you in a way that had you absolutely reeling and breathless, the two of you both teetering on the brink of collapse to chase your own highs. 

“You feel, oh shit- you feel so good, Javi. Feel so good inside me. I’m close, baby.” You whimpered, burying your hands in the sweat curled hairs at the nape of his neck, lost in your own pleasure as your stomach swirled faster and faster with arousal. 

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you and nearly incomprehensible babbles were all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone. 

“Yeah? F-fuck, I love being inside you. So fucking wet and tight, holy fuck.” 

You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, moaning as you buried your head in the crook of his shoulder, fingernails digging crescent moons into his skin as you braced yourself for the wave that was about to crash through you. 

 “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Gonna cum so deep inside this tight little pussy.” Javi reached down so the pads of his fingers rubbed along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckkkkkkkk!” You cried out as you felt your orgasm pulse through you, pleasure shooting through your body as you came, clamping down around Javi’s cock and gushing with your arousal, your body melting limp into his as he followed suite. 

“That’s it, baby. I’m gonna- fuck- g-gonna cum too. Fuck me, gonna fill you so full of me you’re- oh shit- gonna be dripping out of me f-for da- Oh fuckkkkkk-” With a final stutter of his hips, Javi thrust up into you, letting the warm rush of his spend coat your walls, milking himself of every last drop before carefully pulling out, letting the rhythmic breathing of your chests rising and falling sync together. 

“Holy fuck.” Javi sighed, kissing your bare shoulder before letting his plush lips peck across your neck and jawline before meeting yours. “I think it worked.” 

“Think what worked?” You asked, still trying to come to in your blissed out state, gently combing your fingers through the sweat ridden curls of Javi’s hair, giggling as he knowingly ghosted his fingers across your stomach, smiling to himself at your ticklish laughter. 

“The stress relief. God, I love you. I’ll never know what the fuck I ever did to deserve you, but I won’t question it. Thank you, baby.” Javi grinned, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, leaving his other arm to wrap around your waist and pull him closer to his chest. 

“I love you, too, Jav. Glad I could help. Hopefully this was enough motivation to get you through the rest of your work.” 

As you started to scoot yourself off Javi’s lap to clean up the mess of arousal, clothes, and a few scattered papers you had left in your wake, you were taken aback to feel his grip tighten around you, holding you in place. 

“It’s gonna be a long night, because I’m not even close to being done.” Javi smirked, his tongue darting between his lips as his eyes darkened with a hungry gaze. 

“Then you need to let me get off you, you goofball. Last time I checked, your naked wife sitting on your lap isn’t helping anyone to get paperwork done.” You teased, playfully crossing your arms over your chest, tilting your head at Javi in a mix of sass and confusion until a shriek of surprise escaped from your chest as Javi stood up to set you on top of his desk, caging his broad body over yours. 

“Oh I’m done with all of this shit,” He paused, gesturing to his desk before letting his kisses lazily trail down your body until he was on his knees with your legs draped over his shoulders, spreading them open to reveal the swollen and glistening mess still between your thighs, “but there’s not a chance in hell I’m done with you.” 

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @purpleprincess75 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[luviwon]

MY PERSONAL STYLIST | y.jw

kinktober day 2! back to the masterlist here!

☆ stylist!jungwon x model!reader

; jungwon always finds the most fashionable pieces of clothing for you to try out, but when one day he decides to wrap you up in his own hands, well that becomes your new favourite fit.

genre ; smut

taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma

“i don’t think that fits well,” you complained loudly, without any sort of shyness. “i want something that screams that girl, you know? something to turn heads when i walk by, something that no one else has”

what a hard life, indeed. you pouted while laying down on the leathered sofa, throwing away the last piece of dress you’ve tried on. unhappy, disappointed and frustrated. these were 3 amazing words to describe the exact way you were feeling. it did, although, make sense, as the [brand name] fashion week was approaching by and all you could do was pray you will find something unique before that.

on the other side, jungwon snorted at your gesture and picked up the delicate dress from the floor, making sure to get rid of any dirt before putting it back on the hanger. it’s been nothing less than 6h since all the wardrobes in the building were emptied out for you to try every single item, but your expectations were somehow higher than the 24th floor you were on.

“look, giving their most recent collection, i believe we need to definitely include denim. it’s basically their signature, we couldn’t not take advantage out of it” the stylist explained in his simplicity while closing the doors of the closet. “what about a denim skirt? that’s both stylish and comfy; although going for a sleeveless denim top would be just as great”

you nodded, having a look around you. there were now low chances to try something new on as you were more than 99% sure you put on everything already. "i shouldn't be doing this," jungwon mumbled under his breath, casting a quick glance over his shoulder as if someone might walk in at any second. your interest piqued immediately, sitting up straighter on the sofa, eyes glued to his every movement. he turned his back to you, walking towards a wardrobe that had a small lock to it. he effortlessly took the keys out from his pants' pocket, following to unlock the mysterious closet.

the soft clink of the lock turning was like music to your ears—something forbidden, exclusive. jungwon swung the door open with a sense of purpose, pulling out a garment that instantly caught the light. a smile tugged at his lips as he walked over, holding up a stunning denim corset.

"now this—this is what you've been waiting for," he said, carefully laying the piece across his arm like a treasure. it wasn’t just any denim. it had the perfect balance of structure and softness, the kind of piece that would mold to your body, hugging your curves in all the right places. the corset was minimal in design but bold in impact, with sharp seams and an impeccable cut that made it scream sophistication. there were no buttons or zippers, just a sleek back, held together by what looked like a barely noticeable magnetic closure.

"oh my god, jungwon," you gasped, practically leaping off the couch to inspect it closer. your fingers itched to touch the fabric, running across the smooth denim that was far softer than you’d expected. "this is perfect. no, more than perfect. this is exactly what i was talking about." he chuckled at your excitement but quickly added, "there’s just one little thing... it’s not out yet."

your head snapped up, eyes wide in disbelief. "wait, what? this is from the new collection?" jungwon nodded, grinning but looking a bit mischievous. "yeah, technically, it’s part of an unreleased line. i’m not supposed to show it to anyone just yet." you blinked at him, utterly floored. "but... you’re showing it to me?"

he shrugged, smirking like this was all part of some grand conspiracy. "i figured, if you’re just wearing it for the fashion week—after the official release—then we can make an exception, right? besides, this is the piece. the one no one else will have."

you could barely contain your excitement. "oh my god, yes! no one else is going to have anything like this!" you practically snatched the corset from his hands, already picturing how it would look paired with just about anything. the versatility of it was unreal—denim, but with an edge that made it feel couture.

“try it on,” he urged, standing back to give you space.

with a grin, you quickly shed your current outfit, slipping into the corset like it was meant for you. as jungwon helped close the back, the magnetic closure clicked seamlessly, feeling almost like magic—no fuss, just an instant fit. you turned to the mirror, barely recognizing yourself in the best way possible. the corset cinched your waist, accentuating your figure in ways that made you feel like a walking masterpiece. your reflection practically screamed that girl, exactly as you had wanted.

“how does it feel?” jungwon asked, watching your reaction closely.

“it feels…” you twirled, taking in every angle. “it feels like i’m going to break every neck at fashion week.”

jungwon smiled, a mix of pride and amusement. "good. that’s what we’re going for."

you couldn’t take your eyes off the mirror, completely mesmerized by your own reflection. the denim corset hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating every curve. the sharp lines of the piece sculpted your silhouette, making you feel powerful, like you were already walking down the runway at fashion week. a smile tugged at your lips, growing wider with every second you spent admiring yourself. you had to admit, jungwon had completely outdone himself with this.

but as you stood there, swimming in the confidence the corset gave you, you found yourself subtly adjusting it. your hands instinctively moved to your chest, pulling the corset up a little each time. it fit your waist perfectly, but around your chest, it felt like it was slipping ever so slightly, not quite sitting the way you wanted it to.

jungwon, who had been silently watching from behind, couldn’t help but admire the way the corset shaped you. the way the denim cupped your waist, accentuating your figure—it was flawless. his gaze trailed over your body, lingering on the soft curve of your hips and the way the fabric contoured to your form. his breath hitched as his eyes moved upward, taking in the way your cleavage was framed by the low-cut neckline. it wasn’t just the fit; it was the way the corset transformed you into something almost untouchable.

"wow," he muttered, voice low, almost like he was speaking more to himself than to you.

you caught his reflection in the mirror, his expression a mix of fascination and appreciation, and your smile widened even more. "you like it?" you asked playfully, even though you could already tell by the look on his face.

"it looks incredible on you," he said, stepping closer. the admiration in his voice was undeniable, and his eyes never left your figure as he moved. "every curve, the way it fits your waist—it’s perfect."

his gaze shifted to the neckline, noticing how you kept adjusting the corset. "except maybe here," he added, gently reaching up to pull the fabric up a bit for you. his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "feels like it’s not fitting you quite right up top."

you nodded, looking down at your chest and laughing softly. "yeah, it keeps slipping a little. not the best fit for my, uh, chest."

jungwon tilted his head, his eyes still locked on the way the fabric clung to you. "we could probably make a small adjustment to the top. just enough to keep it secure without losing that sleek look."

he stood directly behind you now, his presence warm and steady as he eyed your reflection in the mirror. his hands hovered near your waist, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel the energy between you. "but honestly," he added, voice dropping, "it’s hard to notice anything wrong when it looks this good on you."

you met his gaze in the mirror, cheeks flushing slightly at his words. there was something about the way he looked at you—like he was seeing more than just an outfit.

your heart fluttered as jungwon's words hung in the air. his gaze, warm and intense, never left your body, and it felt like every second he spent behind you made your skin tingle. you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and before you knew it, you were looking down, trying to steady your breath. your fingers played with the hem of the corset, pulling it up again, even though that wasn’t really the issue.

get it together, you thought to yourself, chewing the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning too wide. it’s a professional relationship. he’s your stylist. this is what he does.

but every time you dared to glance back at the mirror, your resolve cracked just a little more. jungwon was still there, standing close behind you, his eyes lingering on you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. and it wasn’t just the way he looked—it was the way he felt standing there, like the air between you was charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

your heart skipped a beat, and despite trying to keep your composure, you couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping back onto your face. god, get a grip, you scolded yourself, but it was impossible not to feel something when his gaze was that intense.

he seemed to realize it too. there was a moment—a brief flicker in his expression—where he caught himself staring. almost like he forgot for a second that this was supposed to be all about fashion. jungwon blinked, then let out a soft, almost embarrassed laugh, quickly brushing his hand through his hair. his fingers tousled his dark strands, and he turned away from you, moving toward one of the racks like he was suddenly very busy.

"so," he began, his tone light and casual, as though he hadn’t just been admiring your every curve moments before. "should we go with shorts or a skirt? i feel like either could work with the corset, but we should go with whatever makes the most impact for fashion week."

you exhaled quietly, feeling the tension ease as he busied himself with the clothes, his back now to you. he was already flipping through hangers, acting like nothing had happened, but you could still feel the lingering energy between you two.

jungwon rummaged through the rack with practiced precision, flipping through various fabrics before his hand landed on something. "ah, here it is," he said, pulling out a sleek skirt with a satisfied grin.

you watched as he held it up for you to see. the material was a smooth, structured twill—something that could perfectly complement the denim without clashing. the fabric had a bit of shine to it, just enough to elevate it beyond casual wear, but what really caught your attention was the unique detail at the waist. there was a thin, adjustable thread running along the top, almost like a drawstring but far more elegant, allowing you to tighten the fit as needed. it added a subtle edge to the skirt’s design, making it feel more versatile and modern.

"this could be perfect," jungwon said, his excitement matching yours. "the material’s got just enough weight to balance the denim, but it won’t overwhelm it. and with this thread detail," he ran a finger along the waist, showing how it worked, "you can adjust it exactly how you want it to fit."

your eyes lit up the moment you saw it. "oh my god, yes. it’s perfect." without even thinking twice, you reached for the skirt, your fingers brushing against his as you took it from him. "i’m trying this on right now."

he stepped back with a grin, giving you space as you slipped out of your pants and into the skirt, the fabric sliding smoothly over your legs. you turned to the mirror again, adjusting the waist with the thread until it sat snugly against your hips. it hugged your body in just the right way—tight where it needed to be but still comfortable, and it gave your whole look a balanced, polished feel.

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling an overwhelming sense of satisfaction as you twirled slightly to see how it moved with you. "what do you think?" you asked, your voice barely hiding your excitement.

jungwon was watching you again, eyes filled with approval as he nodded. "it’s everything. the corset and the skirt—it’s like they were made for each other." his gaze lingered just a moment longer before he added, "and they were definitely made for you."

you looked at your reflection once more, the outfit transforming you into exactly the vision you’d had in your mind since the beginning. "i love it," you said, beaming. "this is it. this is the look."

you couldn’t contain your excitement. the outfit was perfect—beyond perfect, and it made you feel unstoppable. without even thinking, you spun around and practically launched yourself into jungwon's arms. "oh my god, you’re the best!" you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck in a burst of joy.

he barely had time to react before you were in his arms, your body colliding with his in a tight hug. His grip instinctively tightened around you to steady the both of you as he let out a soft, surprised laugh. "whoa, okay, glad you like it!" he said, still smiling, clearly amused by your reaction.

but just as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, something unexpected happened. you felt a soft click behind you. for a split second, you didn’t understand what it was. then, suddenly, you felt the denim corset loosen completely.

your eyes widened in horror as you realized what had happened. the magnetic closure had come undone, and before you could even react, the corset slipped down, hitting the floor. you froze, every muscle in your body stiffening as the air around you seemed to stand still.

"oh my god," you whispered into his chest, your voice muffled and filled with embarrassment as you buried your face deeper, cheeks burning. you wanted to disappear, to melt into the ground and pretend this wasn’t happening. "oh my god, oh my god…"

jungwon’s body tensed at first, clearly just as surprised, but then, almost instinctively, his hands found their way to your waist. the warmth of his palms rested gently against your skin, holding you in place as if to steady you, even though both of you were standing perfectly still. his breath hitched for a moment, but he didn’t say anything.

the two of you just stood there, glued to each other, neither knowing what to do. you could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, a steady rhythm that seemed louder in the silence, while your own heart raced wildly, your face still hidden against his chest.

you let out a shaky breath, unable to move or even think straight, trapped in a whirlwind of embarrassment. "i—i didn’t mean for that to happen," you mumbled against him, voice small and apologetic, barely above a whisper.

jungwon, who had been frozen for what felt like an eternity, finally spoke, his voice low and soft. "it’s okay," he said, his hands still resting on your waist, as if anchoring you both in the moment. "it was the magnet."

you both laughed nervously, a quiet, shared moment of awkwardness but also something else neither of you could quite name.

jungwon's hands still rested gently on your waist, his touch warm and steady, grounding you in a moment that felt anything but. your heart was racing, and you could feel his pulse thudding just as strongly against your cheek. the awkwardness between you grew thick, heavy, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

but then, without saying a word, jungwon's hand moved from your waist, gliding up slowly. your breath caught in your throat as his fingers gently tilted your chin upward, coaxing your face away from where you’d buried it against his chest. your eyes reluctantly met his, wide and uncertain, your body instinctively pushing closer to him to keep your chest covered.

his touch was soft, yet there was something deliberate about the way he held your chin, guiding you to look at him. you could feel the heat from his fingers, his thumb grazing the edge of your jawline, and for a moment, the world outside of the two of you didn’t exist. it was just the quiet, the subtle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hands, and the intensity in his eyes as they locked onto yours.

but he couldn’t stop himself. his gaze flickered, almost unwillingly, sliding down from your face, tracing the line of your neck before settling lower. his eyes dipped, just for a heartbeat, to where the corset had fallen away, and though you’d pressed tighter into him, he could still catch the soft curve of your bare skin. his eyes did a slow, unintentional marathon—from your eyes, to your chest, and then back again, as if he was trying to fight it but losing that battle with each passing second.

you felt a shiver run through you, your entire body hyper-aware of his presence, the closeness, the heat between you. his fingers still held your chin, his grip gentle but firm, and the way he looked at you—like he was seeing you in a way he never had before—sent your heart pounding even faster.

"jungwon…" you whispered, your voice barely audible, not even sure what you were asking, or if you were asking anything at all. maybe just for the moment to slow down, or speed up—something. your cheeks burned with embarrassment, your arms still wrapped around his waist, pressing tighter as if that would somehow make everything less exposed, less vulnerable.

jungwon’s gaze was intense, almost overwhelming, and you felt your pulse quicken under the weight of it. his eyes seemed to linger just a moment too long on every part of you, tracing your features with a softness that made your breath hitch. unable to take the intensity any longer, you instinctively turned around, trying to break free from the moment, hoping to gather yourself.

but in your flustered state, you didn’t realize the full gravity of what you’d just done.

the cool air on your bare skin suddenly felt more noticeable, your nipples hardening in an Instant, and before you could react, you were standing there—completely uncovered—facing the massive mirror. your heart skipped a beat, panic flooding through you as it hit you: jungwon was right behind you, already facing the mirror. his eyes had a perfect view of everything reflected back at him.

"oh my god," you gasped, realization crashing over you like a tidal wave.

before you could move, jungwon was already there. his reflexes were quicker than you expected, and without hesitation, his hands shot forward, gently but urgently covering your exposed chest. his palms pressed against your tits, shielding you from both the mirror and himself, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through you.

the room seemed to freeze for a moment, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. you could feel jungwon’s breath behind you, shaky and uncertain, his hands resting protectively over you. your pulse raced beneath his fingers, the intimacy of the situation more than either of you had anticipated.

“i knew they would fit just right in my hands” jungwon whispered merely for himself but your ears couldn’t ignore it either. his hands were warming up your chest a lot in that moment, and if before you’d be positive that your nipples are the hardest they could be, well, jungwon decided to prove you wrong and circle his palms around them to make them even rock hard. he couldn’t stop staring at the mirror, at the way your body was glued to his, at the manner in which there was only one obstacle from seeing your beautiful chest and that was his own hands.

you bit your lower lip, resting the back of your head against his chest as he lowered his head to place a wet kiss against your exposed skin. you trembled under his touch as his plumped lips left saliva on your beautiful neck, following to be licked off by his long tongue, going all the way to your ears. and because he couldn’t leave them just like that, he bit your earlobe, still, so gently. his hands continued to tease your nips against his palms, now your shoulder being devoured by his hungry lips, kissing, licking, sucking and nibbling all over.

naturally, one of his arms went lower to unwrap the thread along your skirt, causing it to fall down so carelessly, exposing your simple, pale pink panties, along with a wet stain against them. “do i turn you on, y/n”? jungwon asked, eyes locked on the mirror, pushing his hand lower to cup your pussy completely. he rested it there, using his middle finger to press against your hole, hidden behind the drenched piece of lingerie.

“mhm” you nodded, closing your eyes as arching your back in response, unable to resist to his soft, attentive yet dangerous touch. you pushed your chest up, the lonely left breast showing off its round and perky shape. jungwon smirked at the view of that, turning you around and pressing you against the mirror. the cold touch of the glass gave you a short shiver, followed by another one coming from jungwon, who couldn’t help but get on his knees in front of you.

“as a model, you should control yourself regardless of the circumstances, is that true?” he asked you on a deliberate sarcastic tone, a mischievous smile appearing on his face. he stuck out his tongue, licking his lips like a hungry animal. “let’s see if you can keep your moans to yourself then, sweetheart” he added, just before pulling down your panties, his hot breathe hitting your soaked pussy immediately. you felt your legs getting weaker already, but jungwon made sure to hold you still, his mouth taking a full bite of your dripping wet cunt. if before he presented himself to be the greatest gentleman, now he surely proves the contrary. jungwon aggressively sucked on your clit, using a finger to push inside you unexpectedly.

you whimpered out, loud enough for the whole staircase to hear. “shh” he whispered to you, pushing his finger as high as possible and taking it out to make you desperate. his lips were taking over your folds, giving each of them their own turn, leaving wet kisses and fainted marks. additional to his index finger, another one joined him, pushed hard inside you again, letting another moan out, even louder this time. jungwon smirked, and curled them inside you, making your legs tremble. you clenched around his fingers, his tongue giving your clit now all of his attention.

at this point, you had no more strength to stand still and kept going lower, his fingers deeper inside you. “ride my fingers” he urged you, raising his head to see your face full of pleasure, rolling your eyes back with each movement. he stopped moving his hand now, and waited for you to do your turn. with a small gulp, you pushed you body lower until his finger were all hidden inside you again, biting your lips not to let another sound escape from you. it felt so good you couldn’t raise anymore, legs still shaking in pleasure. that’s when jungwon’s patience went down to 0 and his fingers curled again inside you, this time his thumb rubbing your clit in sync.

“do you like how i finger you, sweetheart? your wet sounds say it all”

his smirk couldn’t leave his face at all, not for a second, nor could his gaze let go of yours. he was obsessed with the way you rolled your eyes back, the way you pushed your chest up and the way your shaking legs couldn’t help you stand still anymore. all of this because of him, because of his hands, his fingers, simply him, his voice, his touch.

“i feel so close” you whined, the words barely coming out of your mouth correctly. but to be fair, how could you say anything right when all you could feel was pleasure? hearing your statement, jungwon stood up and pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, revealing his hardened length. “then cum around my cock” he imposed as he pushed his dick covered in precum inside your cunt. he pressed his hands against the mirror, pumping himself into you. he threw his head back, speeding up his rhythm as your tits jumped up and down.

“j-jungwon” you moaned aloud his name, crying along with it. you did not have a single thought on your mind anymore, all you could feel was jungwon’s cock hitting your g point a million times, until your body couldn’t take it anymore. “jungwon i-“ you started saying, but before you could finish, he was already painting your walls white. you let go of your pleasure and came on his cock, throwing your arms around his neck to find some support.

legs shaking, you were still trying to catch your breathe. completely naked against the dressing room mirror, you felt a shiver down your spine and a moan was shouted out again when jungwon pushed himself inside you one more time. he chuckled, seeing your reaction and lifted you up, walking effortlessly across the room to the leathered sofa. he sat down on it, you still on his lap, his cock still buried inside you.

“round two?”

[lustylita]

Switch Haven

COME AND GET IT!

@hurthermore and I collabed together and created this masterpiece! Enjoy!

Imagine him waking you up in the dead of night with his hot cock rubbing between your thighs.

With intrude, you wake up ever so slightly with a grogginess you weren’t expecting. Taloned claws gripped the flesh of your cheeks before a familiar voice hushed you, telling you, warning you to be good and just let him fuck your tight little cunt. “I’ll do all the work darling, I just need to feel you. Now open up and let me fuck you senseless.”

Still out of it, you respond with instinct alone by lifting one leg and bending it at an angle by the knee; giving him full access to the intimate area only he had the pleasure of ever experiencing. Your walls throbbing with need, you didn’t know what had happened for you to become so wet while you were still sleeping.

With praise, Alastor mumbled into your ear, vocalising how good you were, how you’re his perfect little slut, obeying him and only him without even needing to be fully conscious. His cock began sliding into you oh so slowly as one hand gripped around your neck whilst the other slid down to strum your clit.

The slow and passionate pace he set had your orgasm rising quicker than usual, the soft pets he gave you touched you just right, the way his hot, groaning breath tickles your ears as he kisses your neck had you overwhelmed with stimulation.

Clenching down on him with how fast your orgasm began to rise, your back arched to get his long length deeper into you, forcing an incoherent whimper of his name to become the only thing you could manage to articulate. The pull of sleep still trying to claim you, even though your body was exhaustedly hot and tense, you bucked into his cock that thrusted in and out of you, but the hand that played with your throbbing bud kept you right where he wanted you.

Softly, his sharpened yellow teeth bit into the flesh of your shoulder as your walls squeezed him with intent, massaging and pulsing down on him as you coaxed him further into his own peak. The fingers against your clit pressing harsher against it as his thrusts become slightly faster, his enjoyment of the situation becoming all too clear. Your eyes became heavy, unable to truly process anything as your exhaustion remained present, yet you cried out as Alastor claimed a peak from you, forcing your gushing juices to coat his hard and throbbing cock that laid within you.

The feeling was unique, the pleasure, on one hand, was blinding, but the relaxation it brought you was exquisite. Becoming slightly more aware, the tips of your fingers reached back, finding their destination through your lover's red and black hair before scratching at the base of his ears; knowing full well that this little act of petting would help him reach his peak quicker.

Rubbing his ears with softness, his groans became louder in a shuddering sensation. His lips that laid against your ear began to mumble away as his ecstasy induced orgasm began to cover not only your walls, but had seeped into your cervix. Whining out your name in a low husk as he fucks his orgasm into your cunt, he speaks, relaying to you how perfect you feel, how you belonged to purely him. As his cock began to splatter the last drops of his cum, he placed his lips against your shoulder, sucking with harshness, creating a suction against your skin as he left sloppy hickies marked on your flesh.

Letting out a content moan at the familiar feeling, you loved the sensation, the idea and the enactment of being filled so completely by him. Chuckling in his grasp, you had found this to be the most sexually arousing thing he had done to you by far. "You should wake me up like this more often, my love." Your voice is still groggy due to your unconscious mind only recently being awoken, but the call of sleep was far out of your reach now.

He sighs contently in your ear at your comment before whispering against it. “Careful what you say, my darling, or you’ll be losing sleep at a rate that will have you begging me to stop.” He mumbled before gripping your posterior, pulling you apart to watch, to witness his own ejactulation glisten from your cock stuffed cunt. 

“Promise?” You murmured in a tease, your own breath stuttering as you jolted from the sudden sensation of his large hand spanking against the flesh of your ass in a retaliating act of your comment, his pelvis pushing into you ever so slightly as he assaulted you.

With a wicked smirk you pushed back against him harshly, clenching down on his sensitive cock still buried balls-deep inside your stretched cunt. 

"Why don't I return the favour? You took care of me, my big strong buck, let me take care of you instead now." Turning your head to look at him in the eye, you batted your lashes softly, knowing, understanding, that this little act of begging would get him to agree to just about anything.

Breathlessly, he agreed by manhandling your still slightly sleep induced form to straddle his lap; his cock not once leaving you, somehow. With a moaning grunt, you flinched as his cock reached further within you, bullying the opening of your cervix at the new angle. 

“Go on then darling,” He groans as he gyrates his hips, thrusting them up into yours to push his tip into your cervix. “Take care of The Radio Demon and jump on his cock.” Letting out a breathy moan at his words, your form leaned backwards to grip onto Alastor’s thighs for support. 

You loved this side of Alastor. He had always felt so authentically himself when he was tangled in your sheets and his cock snugged within your core.

Lengthening out your spine, allowing his large cock to hit even deeper into your cervix, you smiled down at him as you began to move, began to rock against his thrusts, twisting your hips with every downward stroke. Increasing your speed, your breathy moans stayed still within the depths of your oesophagus every time Alastors tip rammed against your cervix, not caring that your core and thighs stung with overexertion.

"You feel so good my buck; so big. No one could fill me up the way you do." You moaned as you tilted your head back, exposing the bite on your shoulder that he had inflicted but moments ago before you bucked against him, practically bouncing on his fat length.

“And no one can take me like this, darling. Only you get to take my cock. Always you.” He murmurs as you bounce slowly against him, your mouth agape as his claws etch into the crevice of your hips. 

Crying out at his words, your back arched backwards as you pressed yourself further into him with every bounce. “I’d hope so,” You moan as your bouncing never ceases. “Considering that you’re all mine.” You hiss as your jumps against his cock become harsher.

Purring at your words, Alastor bucked his hips into you harshly as his palms assisted in guiding you onto his cock, showing how he loved it when you got as possessive about him as he was for you. "Prove it to me, my little doe~" He groans up at you, causing your eyes to light up in challenge.

Gracefully you lean forward, forcing Alastors thrusts to halt as he peers up at you curiously. Attempting to ignore the way his burning hot thick cock throbbed against your twitching walls, you place a supporting hand on the flesh of his sternum as the other wrapped around his throat with a subtle squeeze.

It was a sight to see; your delicate fingers hardly making it around the circumference of his neck. But with the help of your freshly manicured claws you were able to restrict his airflow successfully. "Careful what you wish for, my buck~" You smiled dangerously as you slowly began to resume your aggressive pace from before.

Oh how the tables had turned as you jumped against his cock with vigour, with such force it caused your skin to enact a slapping sensation against his with an echo. The bed creaking with more potency than intended. 

As his groans mixed in with the tunes of the sexual sounds that already reverberated within the room, his tongue lapped out from his lips as he panted like a damned dog, unable to speak but a word as you only slightly cut off his air flow. You could tell he was becoming dizzy, disorientated as his eyes stopped looking at your beautiful face as they began rolling back into the depths of his skull. 

“Dont you dare stop watching me as I fuck you, Al.” You mumbled through your teeth as his cock bullied your womb.

On your knees, you buck against Alastor harder, your combined fluids sticking your ass to his pelvis every time you grind down against him. Grabbing a fist of his red hair with your free hand, you forced him to make eye contact with you.

“I want you to remember every detail of this, Al.” You bared your teeth at him, the friction against your clit borderline excruciating, but it didn’t slow your pace, as you were determined to see the Radio Demon cry. Loosening your grip on his neck, you could tell he desired air as little droplets of tears emerged from his waterline. “Come on handsome, sing for me, I know you can.” You groaned down at him.

Lifting your hips up until only the head of his cock stretched your entrance, you grinned with cheek and cockiness. But knowing that your actions were sure to bite you in the ass later, you stop and clench down, intending on milking the entire situation as far as you could before it ceased.

“Fuck, darling.” He groaned behind his sharpened yellow teeth as your hips snapped your clenching cunt down on him, fucking him into submission, his cock twitching as you squeezed your walls with intention, milking him, coercing him into another orgasm.

His claws dug into you, forcing droplets of blood to seep from your flesh as you continued to bounce, each bounce harsher, harder and more ferocious than the last. His moans begging that you don’t stop, that you were perfect, and all entirely his. And as he focused his eyesight at the action of your core slapping against his cock and pelvis, he could feel a second orgasm peak as remnants of his previous ejactulation splattered against the flesh of your cunt and the skin of his pelvis.

Moaning at the delicious pain, your fingers grip against his neck again; Alastor's words of love and encouragement spurring you on, motivating you to go even faster. Without thought, you morphed into your demonic form, using the extra strength it provided you to stay upright and push against him harder.

Crying out your lover's name, your moans raised in volume and pitch as your own orgasm began building up within your lower abdomen, the heat of everything becoming more and more prominent. With a harsh grind against his pelvis, you crashed into your orgasm, full lips parting in a wordless cry as you gushed around him. You weren’t sure if you had screamed or not, as the blood rushing through your ears made it hard to audibly intake anything.

Feeling your walls clench in a fit of spasms, Alastor’s clawed talons gripped your neck and shoulder before pushing your entire form backwards; forcing your back to hit the bed behind you. With a snarling grin, Alastor fucked into you relentlessly as you continued to cum on his large, throbbing cock.

Eyes rolling back, you let out a pitched squeal that faded into a choked gasp as Alastor clenched his large, clawed fingers around the delicacy of your neck. Stuttering out Alastor’s name, you could barely coherently speak as the blood that circulated your body rushed south, his strong thrusts forcing your orgasm to intensify into a squirt, flooding his length with your orgasm-induced juices as he continued to abuse your cervix with his fat, wet and throbbing cock.

Needing something to grasp onto, your palms reached up to grab one of his pointed, fluffed ears as your other hand gripped the back on his head, forcing him down into a messy open-mouthed kiss.

Feeling his lips connect with yours. your cries become muffled, ceasing them to echo into the pits of the room and into the mouth of your lover. His reciprocation of the kiss forced your squirting cunt to prolong ever so slightly as your legs twitched around his hips. Yet despite your orgasm, Alastor seemed hell bent on fucking you back into submission. “Such a dirty girl, cumming all over me like that.” He teased you as he pulled away from the kiss. “It’s quite the sight when you take control, darling.” He had somehow managed to mumble through his sexual groans. “But I do love seeing you submit beneath me; so submit and cry for me.” He mumbled through his teeth as he thrusted into you at a pace that was sure to break your pelvis bone.

Lips trembling, you could barely hear your lover’s words, but the look he sent your way had you squeezing hard against his length. You loved egging him on, the rewards made it so worth it.

Would you be able to walk today? No. 

But will the ache be worth it? Yes.

Tilting your head back you let out a keening whine, eyes blurring with tears as your pelvis goes numb with the pleasure. Screaming out his name, your voice strained with how much you were screaming that your mind began to become dizzy, too overwhelmed, but also wishing that Alastor fucking you with such roughness and passionate love would never end.

As you yelled out his name again, his thrusts became uneven, uncontrollable. And as he continued to kiss your swollen and abused lips, Alastor’s cock stilled into your cunt as he released his own additional orgasm with an usual moan that echoed into your mouth. His movements twitched with every spurt that left his tip, forcing him to thrust against you when every new spill that exited his cock.

You swore you could hear him mumbling your name against your lips as he rode through his orgasm, and as your fingers latched around his face, he seemed so in love as he finally relaxed inside of you.

With a content moan, you trembled underneath him, body now aching in the best way as you became boneless. You craved to have him as close as possible, to have his heated skin flush against yours. Trailing your hands to travel up his back ever so gently, you ran your claws lightly up and down his back. "Fuck Al... i can barely feel my legs." You let out a breathless giggle, nuzzling into the crevice of his neck before pressing open mouthed kisses to any piece of skin you made contact with. "I hope you know I'm not leaving the bed today."

Pulling away from you, Alastor pressed a soft kiss against your lips before descending his head to your cunt. With wide eyes, you watched as he lifted your thighs over his shoulders, only to hover his face over your cum soaked core; his eyes not once leaving yours as he inhaled the musk of not only your cunt and its juices, but the musk of his own seed deeply.

Your eyes widen at his movement, your legs trembling as you suck in a sharp breath. "Al?" Your voice cracked as you knew if he even pressed his nose against your clit, it would sting in such a delicious way.

Choking a gasp, his face pressed against your core; his tongue flattened as he petted your clit. 

Mewling, you could only reach for his antlers as the pleasure and overstimulated pain he inflicted onto you had you conflicted on continuation. You could hear him almost growl as you tugged his antlers, seemingly unsure on whether you wanted him to pull away or carry on. 

But Alastor had seemingly decided for you as his claws latched into your thighs before he sunk his prolonged tongue into the depths of your cunt. Bucking against his mouth involuntarily, you let out a moan, not really understanding if it was induced by pleasure or pain.

Twisting your fingers you begin to stroke at the base of Alastor's antlers in retaliation, your hips twitching against his mouth from the pain. "Fuck!" You cried out with a stutter, panting so hard that your lips began to tingle.

How was this pleasurable? 

You had no idea how, but the warmth, sloppy and wet feeling of your lover's long tongue lapping at your walls began to feel less sore and more warm and tingly.

"Al, please!" You had no idea what you were begging for, but fuck did you need it. Feeling him tightening that stupid smirk of his against you, you cried out in overstimulated pleasure. His teeth grazing the lips of your cunt as he furthered his tongue within you; purposefully prolonging it to fill out your cum soaked walls.

You didn’t know how to feel as he drank up the juices of both of your and his evidence of cum that mixed within you, but you found it undeniably arousing. 

He wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t cease plunging his tongue in and out of you whilst smelling the flesh of your clit. His hair sticking against your sweat and cum soaked thighs as he became sloppily relentless with his pace.

“Al! Don’t stop!” Not caring that your voice reverberates through hell, you moan out loudly into the morning air, clamping your thighs against the sides of his face, further sticking him to you, needing him pressed against you.

“Use your teeth Al, please, I can barely feel anything.” Tears of frustration and overstimulation gather on your lower lashes as you grip his antlers harder, pulling him even closer, grinding against his tongue. “Please I need-“ you were practically babbling a stutter now, half delirious and half extremely aroused, your orgasm so close but not quite at the peak.

With a growl, he ragged his head away from your cunt, your palms being scratched deeply by the sharpened ends of his antlers as he pulled away. 

“Can’t feel anything?” He bared his teeth. “Greedy little darling, aren’t you? Always begging for more despite me going above and beyond for you.” His claws latched around your face, squishing your cheeks together as his tentacles slowly began appearing behind him menacingly. “I’ve had an awful day, my love. And I thought my lovely little darling could help alleviate some of that for me; but no.” His claws became sharper before he stuffed them into your cunt. “You always have to beg for more, don’t you?” Every word rumbled from his throat with anger and pause, making sure every single word was pronounced individually as his fingers rammed deeply into you along with every pronunciation.

"N-no Al that's not what I mea-“ Eyes widening at the switch from his soft tongue to his sharp claws had you drooling – head going empty, the pain travelling up your spine sharply and making you dizzy.

“I’m sorry you had- AH! A bad day-“ Barely able to get the words out with how aggressive Alastor was ramming his fingers into you, you truthfully felt bad; remorseful. But since your mouth was the one that got you into this situation, if hurting you slightly for being a brat would help your lover calm down, you would do it happily, and with a smile.

Baring your neck at Alastor you let out a soft moan. “You can take your frustrations out on me, I’m yours to do with as you please, Al.” Closing your eyes tightly, you attempted to ignore the way your walls clamped down on his fingers from the mere thought of being covered in his sharp, sloppy bites and hickeys.

Growling yet again, he leaned into your neck before piercing his sharp, pointed teeth into your flesh, forcing pools of blood to seep against his tongue as he continued to ram his fingers into you; his cum and your juices sputtering out of you with every push. 

Sucking the ink of blood that he had forced out of your skin, he lifted his mouth away from your throat, your blood dripping from the corners of his mouth before he spoke. “You just can’t help but be conflicting can you? Always good, always bad; the only thing you’re consistent at is being mine aren’t you? Dirty girl.” He spat as his fingers never relented, and before you could attempt to touch him, his black appendages wrapped around your limbs, holding them down tightly against the bed.

Writhing against the cool shadow-appendages you started to cry, you couldn’t help it, this was a new overwhelming sensation, the urge to be good outweighing anything else, the ache of the bite helping you go into this new headspace. No words could escape, not even moans, your chest locked up as your vision swirled.

All you could realistically do was do what he wanted; be his good girl and take it. And that’s what you did, what you had to do. Blinking the tears out to clear your vision, your breath hitched at that sight that greeted you: Alastor above you, his tongue lapping up the remnants of your blood, his tentacles pinning you down as he fucked his cum back into you at a painful pace.

The sun in hell had begun to rise, lighting up one side of the man above you. His eyes locked onto yours, the sunlight highlighting the cum and blood that still coated his mouth, his chest and lower stomach in a light sheen from his sweat and your cum. He was so attractive, especially like this. Closing your eyes, you couldn’t help but cum at the sight before you. 

How did you manage to get the attention of the Radio Demon to begin with?

[macabr3-barbi3]

CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes

Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Your new boss seemed stressed. 

Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.

You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 

Right over his head. 

He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 

He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 

“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”

“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”

God, but you wanted to be.

He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”

His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”

“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”

Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.

You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.

“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.

The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.

You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.

He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.

You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.

You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”

You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”

He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”

“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”

“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”

You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.

“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.

A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”

“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”

You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”

He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.

You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”

You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 

After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.

Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 

There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”

This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”

“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.

You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.

“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”

One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”

“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.

His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.

“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”

“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.

“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?

He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.

“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.

Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.

“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.

With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 

“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 

“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.

“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“

Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 

It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.

“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”

He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“

“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”

“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”

The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Exposed

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader summary: You come back from a mission with a tear in your suit. Miguel's reaction to what he sees underneath surprises you in the best way. tags / warnings: smut (minors do not interact!), p in v, fem reader, sassy spider-reader word count: 2.3k

You were coming back from a successful mission. Anomaly eliminated. No casualties. Well, except your spider-suit. An annoyingly claw-y bad guy had swiped at you from behind, and even though you’d just managed to dodge his attack, he’d nicked your suit and sliced a long strip of it down your side, from your back all the way down to the top of your thigh. Half your ass cheek was exposed, but you were so exhausted it was beyond you to care. You’d be suit-free and in bed soon enough. You just had to report in to Miguel first. He’d ordered you to because this had been a “potentially significant anomaly.” There seemed to be more and more of those recently. And he seemed to be assigning them mostly to you. You didn’t know of any other spiders that had to report to him personally after missions so often. 

You could feel the cold on your lower back as you walked up to his HQ platform, it slowly descending in front of you. You hop up as soon as it’s low enough, wasting no time. Miguel’s back is to you as he watches what seems like a million screens at once.

“Mission successful, spider-boss.” “Don’t call me that.” You knew he hated that nickname. That’s why you kept using it. 

“You prefer spider-captain? Spider-chief? Oooh maybe spider-king? No, that doesn’t sound right. Aren’t spiders more matriarchal anyway? You could be spider-queen if you want. Has a bit of a bite to it.” “Y/N,” he deadpans. “Hm?” “Shut up.” “Yes, sir, spider-queen!” 

He finally turns around to look at you, exasperation all over his chiseled features. You catch the end of his eye roll. Knowing engaging will only get more out of you, he opts to go straight to business. “You eliminated the anomaly?” “Yup.”

“Cleaned up the contamination afterward?” “Like the top-class interdimensional janitor that I am.”

“Anything unusual?” “Well, there was this big scary dude with giant claws that was only ever black and white when the rest of the world was especially colorful. Soo that was weird.” “I mean other than the exact reason I sent you there in the first place.” He runs his hand over his face, the other on his hip, looking sassier than he probably intended. “Oh! Then no.” 

You come over to his desk, leaning on it.

“And you’re alright? No injuries or anything?” In the back of your mind, you notice his voice softening as he asks you this. 

“I’m good. More than I can say for my suit though,” you laugh. You lift from the desk, turning slightly, twisting to look at the tear, exposing it to Miguel. “Why’s it called ‘tearing someone a new one,’ huh? Doesn’t make any sense. I need a new one specifically because this one’s torn.” 

You don’t expect him to respond to your stupid question, but when you look up at Miguel, the look on his face is more than unexpected. His eyebrows are shot up, his mouth the slightest bit ajar, his eyes fixed intently on your exposed ass. 

For once, you have no idea what to say. Why was he looking at you like that? Were you in trouble? Just because this was a bit inappropriate? I mean, c’mon, you were all spider-people; you’d all had your fair share of injuries that needed patching up and the like. It felt like a big sports team: bodies rendered just bodies by the heat of battle. Of course, you’d never admit to anyone out loud that while that was true for all the other spiders in your eyes, Miguel was the sole exception. His body could never be just a body. It was too imposing… too striking… too beautiful. You caught yourself staring at him much more often than you liked. Always talked incessantly when he was around to keep yourself distracted and from looking like an idiot. Well, you still looked like an idiot after everything you said, but you were an idiot on your own terms, usually getting some laughs while you were at it. 

“Miguel?” You come up with nothing else. 

Your voice snaps him out of his trance. His eyes shoot up to your face, and he looks — what is that? you’d never seen that look on Miguel O’Hara… was it… flustered?

“Um, yes, uh, right. Your suit,” he’s looking around at his screens again, trying to look busy but you can tell his gaze isn’t actually taking in any of the images. “We’ll get you a new one.” 

The tension lessened and, more importantly, his eyes no longer on you give you back a bit of your confidence. 

“You in charge of tailoring too? You really gotta learn to delegate, spider-boss.” He doesn’t say anything. Not even with you specifically trying to push his buttons with the nickname. “Okayy…” you elongate. “So, can I go now?”

He just grunts, not sparing another look toward you.

You start walking back across the platform but remember a detail of the mission you had wanted to tell him before making it too far. 

“Oh, there was this thing with my watch —“ you start, but all words get caught in your throat when you see Miguel as you turn back toward him. He’s staring at you like a viscous predator just about to pounce. His chin is down but his eyes are on you, even darker than usual and penetrating. You can tell by the rise and fall of his ridiculously broad chest that his breathing is a bit labored. He’d clearly been looking lower than your face level, as his eyes shoot up to yours when you look at him.

Neither of you say anything for what feels like the longest, heaviest moment of your life so far. Then, in what feels like the quickest, he’s closed the distance between you, coming to a stop just in front of you, closer than he’s ever been to you before.

He’s towering over you. Any movement forward at all and you’d be touching. You’re sure he can feel your heavy breathing as you look up at him. You can feel his.  

He looks like he wants to murder you. But Miguel O’Hara has a way of encoding all emotions into shades of anger and aggression. And you’ve watched him closely enough for long enough to sometimes think you have an idea of what lies beneath. You haven’t cracked it completely, but you certainly see shades of gray where others see black and white. 

The stakes have never been quite this high for your getting it wrong, but hoping beyond hope that you know what he actually wants, you push your face the fraction of a distance to his, crashing your lips together. 

From the moment they graze, his hands are on you, groping your exposed ass with one, pulling you into him with the other. He devours your mouth, so feral you even worry for a split second about his fangs coming out. You’re so consumed by him you probably wouldn’t mind if they did.

Not breaking apart from you, Miguel takes the few steps back to his desk, dragging you with him. When the backs of his thighs come up to the desk, he flips you around so that you’re pushed up against it. You’re caged between it and his broad body as his hands continue exploring your body, his tongue continues exploring your mouth. 

At this point you can feel the huge bulge between his legs pressing against you, his spider-suit doing nothing to hide it, doing little to separate you from it. 

When his mouth leaves yours, dragging hungrily down to your jaw and neck, you whine his name. He groans in response, and you feel the vibrations where your chests are flush.

Taking the opportunity to do something you’d often dreamed of, you lift your hand and run it through his thick hair. His moans get louder, and you take it as a sign scratch and tug harder. 

You know you didn’t pull strongly enough to move him if he didn’t want to be moved, but he pops off from where he’s sucking on your neck and looks into your eyes. He gives you a harsh kiss then says simply, “Turn around.” You do. He bends you over his desk.

You feel his hands on your hips first then they squeeze your ass hard. He slaps your exposed cheek, and you jump at the sudden sensation. 

“Tell me if I’m too rough,” he says, voice low. 

You nod and confess, “I want it rough, Miguel. Please.” “Fuuck, chula. You drive me crazy.” You just whimper in response. 

He spanks you again then tears your suit further, exposing your entire ass and your by now soaked cunt. “You walk in here with half your ass out like it’s nothing. Like you can show me what I spend my nights imagining and expect me not to do anything about it.” He slaps your other ass cheek. “You’re soaked, mami. You wanted this as badly as I did?” You nod desperately. “Tell me what you wanted.” “Fuck, Miguel. You. I wanted you.” 

“You want me to fuck you?” You can already feel him messing with his suit. 

“Yes, fuck, please; please fuck me.” When the head of his cock touches your cunt, your entire body shudders with anticipation. He pushes in forcefully, your wetness enough for him to start sliding in. But he’s big. Really big. As he keeps pushing, you feel a bit of a sting. When he hears you hiss, he slows his entrance but doesn’t stop entirely. “Relax, nena,” he coos. His hands massage your hips. “Breathe, baby.” You take a long inhale, and by the time you’re exhaling, you feel him finally bottom out. “Eso, mi amor. Just like that. Fuck, you feel incredible.” “Migueel,” you whine. “Yeah, baby, I got you.” His hands tighten on your hips as he slowly drags his cock back out until only his tip is inside. You’d never felt so empty. Then he pushes back in, faster than the first time. And again. And again. 

Miguel’s pace quickens probably a bit faster than you’re ready for, but you love the intensity of the sensations. You love the feeling of him deep inside you, of him desperate to be deeper. You start rocking back in time with his thrusts, slamming your ass onto him. 

“Fuuuck.” His voice is gravel. One of his powerful hands comes to your shoulder to help pull and push you at his now brutal rhythm. He fucks you with a stamina only possible for a superhuman. You’re sure you wouldn’t be able to take it if you weren’t one yourself.

The large room echoes your slapping skin, your yells and moans as he spears into you repeatedly.

Your thighs tighten as you start nearing your climax. Your cunt starts squeezing tighter. “Fuck, fuck, eso, nena, eso,” he chants, getting even rougher. His praises start sounding strangled, and you know he’s close too. 

“Cum with me, Miguel,” you beg desperately. He groans animalistically at your words, giving you a strangled affirmative moan and pushing his pace to what you imagine is his limit. 

“C’mon, baby, cum for me, cum for me,” he urges. It’s easy to let go with how hard he’s fucking you. You can’t really feel the rest of your body except for a hot heaviness. All you feel is where you’re connected and how every thrust sends pure pleasure coursing through you. 

You’re orgasming a second later, and to the feeling of your clenching cunt and the sound of your euphoric screams, Miguel comes right after. 

You’re unable to keep up your movements, too spent and too blissed out, but he keeps thrusting, albeit slower, until you’ve both rode out the hardest orgasms of your life. Then and only then does he still, still inside you, and collapse onto your back. His broad torso covers you completely, warming you despite how sweaty you are now.

His labored breathing on the back of your neck tickles, sending a shiver down your body. He chuckles and peppers kisses on your neck and shoulder, pulling your suit down to kiss at more skin. 

He eventually lifts himself up; you were never going to push him off, that’s certain. You could spend forever under him, wrapped up in him. 

His strong hands lift your especially malleable body, turning you to face him and helping support you as you lean back on the desk. 

When your eyes meet, Miguel smiles at you. It stops your rapidly beating heart. 

One arm around you, his other hand pushes sweaty hair off your face then lingers there, caressing. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. You just nod. He laughs. “What?” you giggle. “So that’s what it takes to make you stop talking, huh?” “Shut up!” you tsk, shoving his wall of a chest. He doesn’t budge at all, just catches your hand in his, bringing it to his face and kissing it. His lips linger over the skin of your fingers, the back of your hand. You trace them lightly, and they shift into a subtle grin. 

As you look into his big brown eyes, you’re pretty sure you know what this ever-thinning shade of serious is covering.

“Miguel?” 

“Hm?” He pecks your hand again. 

“All those missions… they weren’t ‘potentially significant’ were they?” 

He lowers your hand but keeps it in his. His gaze follows your hands down, looking away briefly, but he’s looking into your eyes again when he shakes his head ever so subtly. You hum in understanding. He just needed to make sure you were okay after.

After a beat, you whisper, “Can we stop pretending?” “That the missions are special?” “That what we feel for each other isn’t…” 

“Ah.” He looks torn. You know he thinks it’s dangerous, know he feels the weight of literally the entire universe on his very broad shoulders. You lean up and kiss him gently. 

“We can figure it out,” you whisper against his lips. His nose brushes yours as he nods then kisses you again. 

[pulisicsgirl]

home for the holidays - mason mount

summary: just when nothing seems to be going right for Mason and Y/N, her Christmas plans are foiled for the second year in a row, leaving her unsure of how to approach the topic with Mason

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count:

warnings/tags: a little bit of angst at the beginning but it all turns fluffy for the rest of it, pre-established relationship, mentions of Mason’s recent injury, hurt/comfort, interrupted beauty sleep, Christmas celebrations :))))))

based on a request from @raremasey as a part two to christmas on my own

notes: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!!!!! I wasn’t planning on posting another fic before the New Year, but when I got this request, I knew I had to write it in time to post before the holiday season was up! Thank you all for sticking with me through this year 🤍 You all mean more to me than you’ll ever know!! I hope you’re all getting to spend some time resting and enjoying your family/friends!! Please enjoy the fic!!

As Christmas Day approached rather quickly, you thought to yourself that you must never have experienced a holiday season that was quite so dreary.

You had done your best to bring the festive holiday spirit into your home—even into Mason’s as you forced him to join you in decorating his house on the very first day of December, dragging him into a few shops to buy extra decorations to fill his house. He had only pretended to be a little bit annoyed, his aversion to shopping completely overcome by getting to watch the joy on your face while decorating for the holidays. You had spread lights, tinsel, ornaments, and little snowman figurines all over the rooms of his home while you shuffled your Christmas playlist in the background.

Since your addition to his family’s Christmas celebrations last year had been impromptu, this was the first time Mason had gotten to see how much you loved this time of year. He truly thought he had never met someone who was as enthusiastic and joy-filled at the mere thought of Christmas.

However, Mason still couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment each time he remembered that you wouldn’t been spending Christmas morning with his family. He tried his best not to show it— he knew how much it meant to you that your family would be traveling to see you this year.

Your relationship with your parents had felt a bit… well, strained over the last year. Ever since the incident of last Christmas, when they had failed to give you an advance notice of their plans to travel to see your brother for the holiday and leaving you to celebrate alone, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being quite low on their list of priorities. It wasn’t just Christmas; it was a host of other incidences as well. You had done your very best to repair what seemed to have been damaged, and the fact that you would get to see your family for the holiday left you overjoyed. With a couple promotions at work this past year, you had been able to move into a nicer, larger flat, and Mason knew you were excited for them to get to see it—not to mention how glad you were to be together with them on Christmas Day and finally get to introduce them to Mason.

Despite this throwing a wrench in his holiday plans, Mason couldn’t help but think life was starting to look up for the two of you. After another brief spell out of the United squad following his head injury, he was back to getting regular minutes on the pitch, and the new gaffer seemed to be working him in as a more important part of the team. And with your successes in your career, you had been more optimistic than ever. And as the two of you approached your first dating anniversary, you both truly couldn’t have been happier together.

But all of that seemed to come crumbling down in the matter of a few days.

When you had gotten the call from your mother, you almost couldn’t believe your ears.

Your brother had unexpectedly received the news that his work schedule had changed, and he would be expected to work on Christmas Eve—meaning he, his wife, and your 2-month-old niece would be unable to travel to visit you. But your father and mother couldn’t possibly bear to miss the little one’s very first Christmas, so instead they would remain at home and your brother (who lived nearby) would host Christmas instead.

Too much in shock to form much of a thought, you had asked if she was sure. But it was final— the flights had already been cancelled, and they were firm in their decision.

Your stomach sank to your feet, and the only thing you could bring yourself to do was end the call without another word to her. Standing in your kitchen, you cried silently, the tears streaming down your cheeks as a million thoughts ran through your mind. You felt that you would never be enough for your parents, wondered what you had done to deserve such treatment from them.

The news felt like a sharp object had been driven into your heart and you spent the rest of your evening curled up on your bed, wallowing in your feelings and ignoring the calls and texts from your mother after you had unexpectedly ended your conversation.

When you awoke the next morning, your first thought was of talking to Mason about the previous night's events—a conversation that would unfortunately have to wait as he had a big game to play today: the highly anticipated Manchester derby. It was a huge game, not only because of the longstanding rivalry between the two teams, but because Mason was expected to be in the starting eleven.

Knowing you couldn’t bear to serve as a distraction from such a huge moment for him after the months and months of hard work it had taken him to get there, you decided your problems would have to wait. You couldn’t talk to him before the game and risk shifting his focus. But you also couldn’t talk to him after the game—if United lost, it would just be rude to make things about yourself instead; but if they won, you couldn’t possibly bring down his good mood with your complaining.

So then, you decided, you would have to tell him tomorrow… or maybe the next day.

You took a hot shower, hoping to wash away the heavy feeling in your chest and the puffiness of your eyes. You had donned your kit with Mason’s name printed across the back and made your way to the Ethiad stadium.

The crowd was buzzing as they awaited the start of the game. You settled into the private box, greeting Mason’s family, and you knew Lewis could tell there was something off with you, but he didn’t mention it. Everyone was overjoyed at the news of the starting lineups, bringing with it the confirmation that Mason would be starting for the first time in quite a while.

You were overjoyed for him, able to put aside your own sorrows for the time being, eyes shining with happy tears as you watched him walk out onto the pitch while the anthem played.

But for the second time in less than 24 hours, your stomach sank as, 14 minutes into the game, you watched Mason wave the physios over as he sat on the grass. He was too far away for you to be able to make out his facial expression, but there was no mistaking the posture of the rest of his body. As he spoke with the physios and they looked him over, his shoulders slumped, a resigned look taking over him.

As if this day needed another disappointment.

The rest of your day had been spent looking after Mason, bringing him anything you thought he could possibly need so he wouldn’t lift a finger and holding him tight in your arms to ease the disappointment of yet another setback in his recovery.

Surely now you couldn’t mention everything with your parents to him just yet. It would be so cruel to make him feel sorry for your when he was facing such a disappointment of his own. Perhaps you would just have to wait until his spirits were lifted—even just a little.

But as days passed and time got away from you, Christmas Day crept closer and closer, and Mason’s mood didn’t seem to be improving at all. You did everything in your power to cheer him up— bought him little treats and left them with notes for him to find, sending sweet little text messages throughout the day to let him know how proud you were of the hard work he was putting into recovering. You even went so far as to take a couple days off of work to make a long weekend for yourself and spent the time off pampering him with a bit of a spa weekend as best you could.

And though he always expressed his appreciation for your efforts, the smile he gave you was all too forced, and you knew he was still hurting inside. He had apologized to you a few times now for “being a right grump,” afraid he would ruin your excitement for Christmas time— and after that, you just didn’t have the heart to tell him that someone had already beat him to it.

So you had resolved to keep it to yourself. He just didn’t have to know, and you decided that was for the best. It tore you up inside to keep something from him, but you told yourself that it would be for his own good, allowing him to focus on his time with his own family instead of on comforting you.

For the next days, you carried the secret around like a weight sitting on your chest, feeling a small pang of grief each time you remembered that you wouldn’t be seeing your family. But you did your best to keep those feeling under wraps, so as not to worry Mason.

It was only 2 days before Christmas, when Mason had decided to stay at yours for the night and you slid under the covers behind him, pressing your chest up against his back ad tangling your bare legs with his. Many months ago, Mason had confessed that he liked to be the little spoon when he was feeling a bit more vulnerable. And after his most recent injury a couple weeks ago, it had become a staple in your nighttime routine with him. You loved the feeling of cuddling up close to his warm skin, and you couldn’t help from pressing a barely-there kiss to the base of his neck, sending a gentle shiver down his spine.

Tucking the blankets in around the two of you, you settled into a comfortable silence, and Mason intertwined his fingers with yours, where your hand was resting on his tummy, giving it an appreciative squeeze.

“Were you able to wrap everything up at work today?” Mason asked softly, knowing you had a few things you needed to get done before taking a few days off for the holidays. You felt a warm feeling in your chest at the fact that, no matter what he was dealing with, Mason always made an effort to ask questions about you—about your day, your work, the friends you had seen recently.

“I was,” you smiled, peppering a couple kisses across his shoulders, overwhelmed with the need to show him a bit of love while you held him in your arms. “Ari helped me get the last of it finished right before I had to leave, so I don’t have to worry about a thing over the break.”

“Good, good,” he breathed, and you could tell he was enjoying the attention you were giving him. “Your parents get in tomorrow, right? Are you excited to see them?”

Your breath hitched in your throat before you could stop it and you froze, trying to come up with a good enough excuse to not talk about the situation.

But you hesitated a moment too long, and Mason caught on easily to the way you’d tensed up behind him.

“Y/N? What is it?” he tried to turn in your grasp as he spoke, but you only held him tighter, pressing your face between his shoulder blades so he couldn’t see the tears that had sprung to your eyes before you had a chance to stop them.

He wriggled in your grasp for a moment, but you knew it was no use, allowing him to pry your arms off his waist so he could turn over and look at you. Your hands flew to your face, covering it as some last-ditch effort to conceal your emotions, but it was far too late, and you knew that.

“Y/N, angel…” You felt Mason’s fingers gently pull at your wrists, and you were left with no choice but to stare back at him with tear-filled eyes. “Talk to me, what’s going on?”

Mason’s brow was furrowed with concern as he reached out to stroke a thumb across your cheek. His mind was reeling, trying to figure out what had you so upset.

“Is it your parents?” You could only manage a nod in return.

“They’re not coming?” Another nod. You watched Mason’s face fall in genuine hurt for you.

“Again?” It was barely a whisper when he said it.

With that single word, it was like the dam had burst, and all of the emotions that you had been holding back for weeks sprung to the surface. You curled yourself into Mason’s chest, no longer able to think about anything other than seeking a bit of comfort in his arms. His hands slipped under your shirt, tracing circles and gentle lines across your skin the way he knew you loved, as he could do nothing else but listen to your soft cries.

It didn’t take long for you to quiet to soft sniffles, and Mason pulled back slightly from you, cradling your jaw in his hand so you’d look up at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mason did his very best not to sound accusatory, but in his mind, he couldn’t think of any reason why you would have kept this from him.

It took you a moment to respond, still working to calm your breathing. “Well, they... um, they told me about the night before the derby,” you started. “And before the game, I didn’t want to distract you, so I decided to wait. But then, you got injured, which meant you already had so much on your plate, and you seemed so down that I didn’t think I could possibly bring myself to add even more to it, so…”

“So you’ve been carrying this around for the last couple weeks all alone?” Mason finished for you. You shrugged in response. He could only hold you a little bit tighter, heart clenching in his chest at the thought of you being so weighed down by these emotions without him even knowing.

Mason couldn’t help but feel like kicking himself over the way he had been wallowing for the last week or two since his injury. He had been so caught up in himself that he hadn’t even noticed how you were feeling, and it made him appreciate everything you had done for him just that much more. Despite facing your own disappointment, you had put all your energy into cheering him up and making him feel better.

Gone was the feeling of self-pity over his recently poor luck with injuries at the United, and taking its place was the warm feeling of gratitude—for you and the way that you loved him so deeply, so sacrificially.

He pressed a few kisses onto your forehead, the gears in his mind turning as he thought of ways to make you feel better—one in particular stood out as the obvious choice among the rest.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll help you pack a bag so you can stay at mine for a few days,” Mason stated matter-of-factly. “My family will all be arriving in the evening and they’ll be so happy to see you—Mum and Jazz especially, they were so disappointed when I told them you wouldn’t be spending Christmas morning with us.”

“Mason, I couldn’t,” you retorted, but Mason had expected this resistance from you. “I sprung everything on you so last-minute last year, I can’t—“

“You didn’t spring anything on me last year,” Mason shushed you softly. “I invited you. And better yet this year, you already know just how stubborn I am, so you know this conversation isn’t ending in any way other than you agreeing to go home with me tomorrow.”

Mason’s soft smile was infectious, the sides of your mouth curling upward as he awaited your response.

“You are quite stubborn…” you giggled quietly.

“So is that a yes?”

A beat more of silence passed before you replied with a soft “okay,” and Mason burried his face in your neck, squeezing you tightly in excitement and you couldn’t help but giggle at him, your mood instantly lifted. The hurt and disappointment was still there, but it was significantly dimmed by the knowledge that you would get to be a part of the Mount Christmas for the second year in a row.

Mason finally pulled back after scattering several sloppy kisses across the base of your neck, his eyes sparkling as he propped himself up on an elbow and hovered his face over yours. His eyes darted around your face, a look of unmistakable excitement on his features as he took you in.

“You have no idea how excited I am to spend Christmas with you again,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours.

You cradled his jaw with your hand, your eyes going misty as you thought about how lucky you were to have him in your life, through all of the ups and downs.

“Thank you, Mason.” Your voice was so quiet, if he hadn’t been right up next to you, he might have missed it.

His only reply was to press his mouth to yours, trying to pour all of his love into a single kiss. You pulled him closer by the back of his neck, pressing your body as close to his as you could manage, feel safe in the warmth of him.

After a moment, he pulled away, both of you blushing and breathless—nearly a year together, and every kiss still felt as thrilling as your first.

“C’mon, let’s get some sleep,” he said, pressing one last quick peck to your lips. “We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

You nodded, smiling at the thought of the holiday celebrations you had in store; no longer dreading the time spent alone, but excited to get to see all of Mason’s family again.

The two of you settled underneath the duvet, holding each other close. And with the promise of a family-filled few days of Christmas joy, you both got the best night of sleep you’d had in weeks.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day passed in an absolute whirlwind of events. The two of you had a bit of a lie in, sleepily discussing your plans for the next few days until long after the sun had risen. Lying in Mason’s arms, tucked warmly under the covers, you felt remarkably more settled than you had the day before. As you lay there with your eyes closed, listening as Mason softly explained that his family would be arriving later that afternoon, you basked in the feeling of his warm skin against yours—your legs tangled together, you chest pressed up against his, and his fingertips trailing lightly over your back.

Before it got too late, the two of you decided it was time to get up, sharing a quick shower together before Mason helped you pack a bag for the next days and the two of you were off to his house, with a brief stop at the store to pick up a couple last-minute necessities.

Late in the afternoon, Mason’s family arrived, and the Christmas Eve celebrations were in full swing. The house was full of life (and noise) as Summer and Mila ran around and Mason’s parents and siblings got their things settled into the guest rooms. A magical trip to Lapland’s made for the perfect evening and left the girls exhausted, so it was fairly easy to put them down once you had all made it home.

Once everyone was in bed, you and Mason got to work setting out all of the presents that had been carefully hidden in Mason’s large closet. Mason watched with admiration as you carefully arranged the gifts and filled everyone’s stockings with the little bits and treats you had picked up over the last few weeks. The care with which you sorted everything left him feeling warm inside, thinking once again how thankful he was to have you with him on Christmas Eve.

And once Mason had finished the glass of milk and taken a large bite out of the cookie the girls had left out for Santa, you and Mason headed up to bed for the night, buzzing with excitement over the next days festivities.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It felt like your eyes had only just slipped closed when you were awoken abruptly by the sound of the bedroom door being flung open and banging into the wall.

“Uncle Masey! Uncle Masey!” a tiny voice shouted, sprinting over to the bed as fast as her little legs would carry her.

As you rolled onto your back, you spotted Summer scrambling up onto the mattress, crashing onto Mason’s chest as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Uncle Masey, wake up!” Summer shouted again, exasperated. She took hold of one of his arms and shook as hard as she could manage.

“What is it, sweetie?” you feigned confusion, as you tried to get Summer’s attention, giving Mason an extra moment to wake up.

“It’s Santa…” she whispered, eyes wide. “He came. Here.”

“What?” you dropped your mouth open, mimicking her look of surprise. “You’re kidding.”

“He really did! He really did! Come and see!” Summer wriggled off of Mason’s chest, leaping to the carpeted floor and padding out of the room, leaving the door wide open as she went.

You rolled onto your side to face Mason, giggling at his furrowed brow and squinty eyes, clearly wishing he could just sleep for a couple more hours.

“You’ve got to get up,” you beamed at him, splaying a hand across his chest as you leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t you hear? Santa’s been.”

Mason’s heart swelled with affection for seemingly the hundredth time in the last few days as you bent forward to press a proper kiss to his lips. For a moment, he got lost in the feel of you, hoping the two of you could spend just a few minutes more together in bed. However you, painfully aware of the open door behind you, pulled back and dropped one last kiss to his forehead. Slipping quietly out of bed, you popped to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you and Mason went downstairs to join the rest of his family.

The silver lining of Mason’s recent injury was that he didn’t have to train on Christmas morning. While most of his United teammates would be reporting for one last session before the Boxing Day matches, he was settling down on the couch next to you, surrounded by his family as Tony began handing out the stockings to everyone.

Much to your surprise, yours was no longer hanging on the mantel empty, as you had left it the night before. Instead, as you took it from Tony, you pulled out a variety of face masks, bath salts, and pleasantly scented soaps. You looked over at Mason, whose face held a satisfied smirk—he must have snuck back down last night after you had gone up and filled your stocking without you knowing.

You whispered a soft “thank you,” tucking your face into his neck as he squeezed you into his side. It meant more to you than he’d ever know that he always went out of his way to make sure you were looked after—even in small ways, like making sure to fill your Christmas stocking.

The morning continued, and Summer had declared that she should be the one handing out gifts this year. So, with a Santa hat atop her head, she ran back and forth between the tree and everyone else, dropping the presents in everyone’s laps before returning to the tree to grab another.

She approached you with a small box in her hands, mumbling a soft, “here you go, Auntie Y/N,” before spinning on her heel and returning to the tree.

You froze in shock for a moment— it was the very first time Summer had ever called you that. You cared deeply for the little girl and her sister, and her clear acceptance of you as a part of the family meant a great deal to you. Mason, sitting with one arm behind you on the couch and on resting on your leg, squeezed your thigh as he saw your eyes go misty at Summer’s words.

You sniffled, trying not to cause a scene by getting too emotional as you carefully tore the wrapping paper off of the small box. Inside, you found a gold necklace with a round pendant engraved with your birth flower and Mason’s intertwined. One the back, the date that the two of you had met was engraved—above it, the words Forever and Always.

“Oh, Mase. You shouldn’t have,” you exclaimed, tucking your head into his neck once again. You could feel his chest shake with laughter as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close.

“It’s perfect, Mason. I love it. Thank you.” You had pulled back to look at him, and you watched as a warm blush spread across his cheeks.

You spent the rest of the morning with your head on Mason’s shoulder, watching with enthusiasm as everyone opened their presents. You received several other thoughtful presents from Mason and the rest of his family—a tote bag you had mentioned wanting to get from Jazz and her husband, a wax warmer and a few different sweet-smelling wax melts from Tony and Debby, among others.

It really was the perfect morning, spent curled up in Mason’s side, and you felt so full of love for your boy and the family that had made him who he was today.

Eventually, all of the presents had been opened, and Summer and Mila sat on the floor with their new toys spread across the room. Before long, everyone started to make their way into the dining room to eat the breakfast that Debbie had apparently been up cooking before anyone else was even awake.

It was a feast beyond comparison, the table covered in cinnamon rolls, bacon, fried eggs—everything a hearty breakfast could possibly need. And as everyone tucked in, you were sure to tell Debbie how good everything tasted.

Once everyone had finished, you and Mason cleared the table and loaded everything into the dishwasher, deciding to deal with the rest later that afternoon. Lewis was working on setting up their traditional Christmas Day movie, having decided on “It’s a Wonderful Life” over breakfast.

With everything sorted and the leftovers in the fridge, you turned to go join the rest of Mason’s family in the living room when you felt Mason’s hand on your wrist, spinning you around and pulling you into his chest.

Mason’s eyes sparkled as he looked down at you.

“Huh, would you look at that…” Mason spoke with an air of mischief. “Mistletoe.”

For a moment you were struck by confusion, seeing as the two of you were standing in the middle of his kitchen with no real place to hang mistletoe. But your confusion was short-lived as you looked up to see Mason’s hand dangling a sprig of mistletoe above your heads.

A grin broke out on your face as you quirked an eyebrow at him, trying to shoot him an unimpressed look, despite the butterflies that were swarming in your tummy.

“We wouldn’t want to break tradition now, would we?” Mason tried again. “It’s probably bad luck… or something like that…”

By now the two of you were grinning like fools at each other, and you couldn’t believe your luck at having Mason in your life. You slipped a hand onto the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his hair as you brought his face down to yours.

Mason pressed his lips to yours in a delicious kiss as your eyes slipped closed. Mason dipped his tongue cheekily against the seam of your lips, and you pulled back slowly before things could get too heated in the middle of his kitchen.

“I’m so in love with you,” you breathed, nudging his nose with yours.

Mason beamed, eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “I’m so in love with you,” he repeated your words. “And even though it isn’t how you planned your Christmas to go, I’m glad you’re here today.”

“Thank you, Mason,” you breathed. You must had said it a thousand times over the last couple of days. “For this, for everything. I’m so grateful for you. I love the way you love me.”

Mason pressed his lips to your forehead, holding your body close to his. “You don’t have to thank me, angel. I love getting to love you. It’s as easy as breathing for me.”

Your tummy did a somersault at his words, and you couldn’t help but press one more, quick kiss to his lips.

“You ready to go watch this movie?” Mason asked, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “You’re not allowed to fall asleep this year.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from your lips as he pulled you toward the living room, as you spoke. “Now for that, I can’t make any promises.”

tag list: @hischierswhore @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol7 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellsancho @sid-vii @captainpulisic

[the-californicationist]

hi cail! this is sizzleee2 from another account 😅 i was wondering if you could possibly make a fic with anyone from tf141 with fem!reader who immediately after sex feels asexuel and gets a little distant, doesnt need aftercare because shes never had any and then finds out how good aftercare feels??? idk, if you dont want to then no pressure! you r just my favourite writer and i love to read your fics!!

-sk0 <3

I’m slowly making my way through my ask box, and you probably forgot about this but I didn’t! lol 😂 I don’t think I fulfilled this request though. Epic fail on my part. Aftercare?? Maybe. If you squint. I’m so sorry. I just got too horny for Gaz. Forgive me? 🩷🩷

TW: female reader, the expected amount of Kyle sass (see gif)

——— MDNI ———

Tethered

—

The skin-searing warmth of his body left you as he finished, falling away and leaving you cold and lonely. The air of the room rushed across your skin, reminding you that he was done with you. He’d used you, and much like the tarred end of a smoked cigarette, you were filthy, you were wet and sticky from his mouth, and you were no longer smoldering from his burning affection. You had been savored and snuffed out, and that was that.

As soon as his heavy frame rolled off of you, you flung the sheet away and darted into the bathroom, ready to be clean again.

You wished you could be like those girls in the movies; the ones who curled around their emptied lovers, laying her head upon his chest, letting him squeeze and fondle her as he dozed, playing in the sweaty mess of her hairline, skirting his brutish fingers along the slope of her brow.

But you weren’t. You were something else. You weren’t sure exactly what, but your past partners had called you all sorts of things. Low-maintenance. Easy-going. Little Miss Quickie.

“Hey,” the door to the bathroom was wrenched open, and in the dark portal of its frame stood your most recent conquest: Sergeant Kyle Garrick, scowling down at you.

He was still naked, as were you, and now that the sparkling fire of your pleasure had been extinguished, it was less exciting and more practical than it should’ve been. Sure, the heavy musculature of his neck and shoulders were still beautifully aggressive. The broad span of his chest was yet as inviting as it had been at the bar last night. The deep v-cut of his Adonis belt was just as tantalizing, particularly when it lead to a softer, shinier, well-used cock, still dripping desire from its gleaming slit.

“What?” You asked, turning to face him, your washcloth in hand.

“Where’d you go? I’m not done,” he asked.

As Gaz stepped forward into your space, you turned to give him your back, watching him in the mirror, feeling and seeing his enormous arms curling around your shoulders and belly like a giant kraken, ready to pull you back into the sea of his bed.

“You felt done to me,” you shrugged, continuing to wash your face, “Was it not good for you?”

The incredulous look in his eye froze you to the spot, and the suds of your soap foamed and popped across your cheek as you waited for his reply.

He pulled himself away, unwinding himself like ribbon from a spool, slipping through you like sand through loose fingers.

“It was proper brilliant. You know it was. You were there,” he laughed, a hint of bitterness tinging the edge of his mirth, “Am I wrong, babes?” Then, his timbre darkened with a quiet uncertainty, “Am I wrong?”

“No,” you turned to face him, wiping your cheek clean, “It was really nice. It’s not you. I’m just usually Ubering home by now.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, pushing back. But he didn’t shy away. He smiled, almost knowingly, as if he expected you to say as much.

“Not much of a cuddler, is that it?” He smiled a bit wider, reaching his arms around you cautiously, waiting for you to pull away again.

You shook your head, and he held your chin in one of his large fists, lifting you up to face him. He studied you, looking into your eyes as if trying to see your mind working away behind them,

“Want me to show you how?”

You met his gaze, and you didn’t know what expression you wore on your face. It was hard to even describe the emotion you were feeling, much less name it. But, when he looked down at you, he seemed to know.

Gaz grabbed your hand in his and dragged you over to the large shower behind him. He turned the water on hot and coaxed you inside. For a few moments, you thought it may be too warm for you to stand it, but as your skin became accustomed to the steam and the heat, you felt your body relax. He didn’t bother with soaping you up or washing your hair; he simply held you against him, your head tucked into his chest, shadowed by his hulking form, covering you in the oppressive warmth of his affection and the pouring water. It flooded your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more pliant to his whims, more open to suggestion, blooming under his touch like a reluctant bud, afraid of the bite from the frost you knew too well.

Because this wasn’t forever. He’d say goodbye eventually. You’d feel the sting of loneliness one way or another. Better to rip the bandage off now and get it over with. Right?

“Hey, come back,” he held your jaw in his strong fingers, making you meet his eyes again, “That’s it. Stay with me, baby. You don’t need to go anywhere. Don’t need to do anything. Just be here, right now, with me. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know why, but you rejoiced to hear those words. There was something in the way he insisted, something in the comfort of his steady, unhurried embrace that allowed you to melt down into his arms.

When he began to rub you down, chasing the rivulets and currents of the cascading water, you didn’t feel rushed. There was no urgency. He fondled you and caressed you; he squeezed your soft breasts in his palms, but he wasn’t after an orgasm - not yours nor his. He just wanted to touch you.

You felt his hand find your tender pussy, his fingers stretching their way into your hole, still sore from taking his challenging length, still slick from the sticky mixture of your come.His fingertips pressed inside of you, and it was his turn to sigh, his body relaxing into yours, warm to his bones from how joyful he felt at being so welcomed into your hot core.

Pressing your head into his chest, you let yourself live in the moment. You were allowing yourself to be in this steamy limbo with him, feeling him as he was feeling you and yet in no rush to the finish line.

“I’ve got you, babes,” he kissed your forehead, pushing into your cunt even deeper, rocking rather than thrusting his hand against you, letting you grind your hips into the heel of his palm, “I don’t wanna stop. But, if you —“

You shook your head, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt him smile. You whispered into his chest,

“It’s alright. We don’t have to stop.”

“Come back to bed with me, then,” Gaz demanded gently, his voice holding a stronger challenge than it had before, steeled by your precarious consent.

You looked up at him, unsure if you could give him what he wanted, but you were willing to try.

You nodded, and he flipped off the water, reaching out of the door to wrap you in a big towel. You watched him dry off quickly before leading you back to bed. He climbed in before you, turning back the duvet, giving you a shadowy little burrow to stuff your body into. You turned away from him, your back to his chest. You held your breath in your lungs still for a moment, wondering and waiting, but once you felt his skin on your skin, you could relax again.

Reaching behind you, you found his hard prick and guided it so that he would slip between your legs, nestled right below your lips, curving through your chubby thighs and up against your mons. The trembling sigh that came from his throat as his cock slotted itself into place lit a fire in your chest again, reigniting the once-cold embers.

He thrust himself against you, testing the waters, waiting for you to reject his advances, but you canted your hips, letting the wetness of your hole glide against the body of his cock, licking him like a mouth as he rutted between your legs. His tongue was on your neck, his hands were on your breasts and belly, his scent invaded your nose; he was everywhere. You didn’t have a chance to second-guess yourself or your smoldering excitement because he was like the steam from his shower; he suffocated your doubts with his desire.

“That’s my good girl,” he muttered against your kiss-bitten flesh, “Use her on me like that. Just like that.”

Gaz reached down to cup your mons, his fingers cradling his head each time he fucked his cock against your folds, keeping it pressed into the slit of your wet quim, nudging your clit every time he shoved himself forward. You helped him, rocking your hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, listening to the soaked, milking noises your sex was making with him.

“See?” He whispered, slurring his words from the pleasure that he was stoking inside of himself, using you to build his fire back to a high roar, “A cuddle isn’t so bad. That’s why you gotta stay here in bed with me, baby. Give me a chance to get hard for you again, yeah?”

You nodded, moaning in agreement, arching your neck to give him more room to work his mouth on you. He took advantage of it right away, feasting on your sensitive skin, raking his sharp teeth across you like the flat edge of a knife, stinging but not ready to draw blood.

“Wanna take you again. Let me have you,” he snarled, all his gentility burning away against his blazing want.

Before you could so much as whimper his name, his hand pressed down until his cockhead was prodding against the soft mouth of your cunt, waiting for your body to swallow him whole. He held his breath as he dipped inside of you. He went slowly, inching his way through your soaked walls, drowning his long shaft in its familiar sheath, groaning and shaking from the bliss of it.

You twisted your hand in the sheets, nearly screaming from the pleasure, too full to move, overstimulated and yet begging him for more with the hungry grind of your hips.

Then, he used his heavy body to shove you beneath him, rolling you onto your belly, pinning you beneath his chest and wrapping his arms around you, stealing away any chance of your escape. But you didn’t want to escape, not anymore. All of your thoughts had been rewired and rewritten with his ink pen, reminding you that you were his to take.

“Ungh, fuck!” He bit down on the nape of your neck, whimpering in a dark, gravelly tone, “Just like that. Squeeze me, baby. Use that fuckin’ pussy on me.”

“Gaz…” You keened, feeling the edge of your orgasm rising within you like a white-hot sun.

“What?” He snapped a little cruelly, “Still wanna go home? Fuck that. Not done with you, baby. Gonna make this tight little pussy remember the shape of me, yeah? I’ll keep you hungry for it.”

As your legs began to shake, Gaz fucked himself into you even deeper, reaching too far and stretching you too wide, forcing a wall of pleasure to slam into your core, making you clench around him that much harder. You felt yourself flood with your own sticky come, and right at the top of your blinding joy, you heard him hiss against your ear, chuckling in a teasing, devilish tone,

“That’s what I thought. Not goin’ anywhere, are ya?”

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris)

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over – rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Part II can be read here! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[shhhsecretsideblog]

They had been trying for a baby for a while, when finally she was looking at a positive test. Unfortunately, there was only one time it could have happened. A bit too much to drink, a few confessions that she'd sometimes thought about her husbands best friend in some of her more intimate fantasies, and just like that his little secret had taken root in her belly.

She was excited to be a mom, but can't bring herself to tell her husband she's expecting. Hiding her bump as best she can, not letting herself be intimate with him in case he noticed her beautiful changing body, how firm and heavy her belly had gotten. She has a plan. Give birth in secret where he won't find out, and then claim someone left the baby there. "Probably some teenager or something, can't imagine how she could raise it." Of course, since they're struggling to have one of their own, it's all but a sign. Of course they should take it in.

A perfect little plan for the eager mom to get out of her bad choice concequence free.

At least, it would be, if her waters hadn't broken in the shower, and the contractions were starting to get worse and worse, no matter how she tried to pretend otherwise and act like nothing was happening...

Extramarital Consequences

AN: I just wanted to write a short little rp drabble, but instead it comes out as a full scale 3k word fic. Thanks for the prompt MuchBirth, it was a great concept. Hope you like it. [fpreg, tw: vomit, tw: cheating]

“Are you alright in there, babe?” My husband's voice sounded through the bathroom door and I tried to swallow the groan that was sitting in my throat.

Why now, why today?! I had done so well concealing this pregnancy from everyone, thanks to the cold winter and the abundance of thick oversized jumpers and coats. And for the fact I was carrying a rather modest, if heavy, bump. Said bump had dropped in recent days and I had hoped the baby was merely getting prepared and wouldn’t be coming for another week when Daniel would be away on business. The baby, it seemed, had other ideas.

The contractions had started in the early hours and I laid beside my husband quietly breathing through each pain and praying it was just braxton hicks. But they just kept on coming. Every 40 minutes… every 30 minutes… and when they got down to 20 minutes apart I knew I had to move.

Hiding downstairs in the dark, I paced around our living room and kitchen as the contractions got closer together and more and more intense. Why couldn’t it have been a work day?! Daniel would leave the house early and I could labour and birth this baby in secret just as I’d planned. But it was Saturday and we were scheduled to go to a family event that afternoon. The heavy weight of the baby sitting low in my pelvis confirmed there was little-to-no chance of me making it to that party.

I paced around the downstairs of our town house until the early morning with its first glimpse of a rising sun filtering through the windows. Bracing myself against walls, tables, all manner of furniture, I spent hours swaying my hips through each agonising contraction that struck, praying they would eventually stop but they never did. I heard Daniel get out of bed and jump in the shower and I busied myself doing the dishes when he came downstairs. He looked at me curiously, seeing my sweaty and flushed face and asked if I was coming down with something. I assured him I was fine as he made his morning coffee, but soon had to twist back around to face the sink to hide the grimace on my face as another strong contraction barrelled its way through my womb. My hands gripped the counter in a white knuckle grip and it took everything I had not to whimper from the pain.

After assuring Daniel that I was alright, I disappeared quickly back upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom. I turned on the shower, the tiled room echoing the loud noise of the powerful jets, and allowed myself to groan deeply through the next contraction. They were less than 15 minutes apart and had the ability to steal my breath away. Gripping the sink and panting heavily, my mind began to spiral and panic. How the fuck was I going to keep this from Daniel?! We were struggling to conceive, if his discovered this pregnancy there would be no way I could pass this baby off as his. He would find out I slept with his best friend and my dream of a suburban family life would be destroyed. The baby sank lower in my hips and my knees dipped into a semi-squat from the increase in pressure. We were supposed to go to a party later, with family and friends, and Daniel would be by my side all day. But this baby was coming, soon if the pressure between my legs was any indication.

I stepped into the shower, attempting to ease the pain knifing at my lower back. Cupping my protruding belly I whispered a plea to the baby to stay put a while longer. I loved my pregnant body and was sad not to have shared this experience, to marvel at the incredible changes of pregnancy, with my partner. But there was an alluring excitement in keeping the baby secret - something just known by them and me. I couldn’t wait to meet the life I had been growing.

My thoughts tempted fate and the next contraction was soon upon me and I doubled over in the shower bracing my knees. The pressure between my thighs was building, the steaming hot water doing very little to ease the pain as it crested, my belly turning to stone and pushing everything downward. “Mnghhhhhhh!!” I grunted, involuntary, and almost dropped into a squat as the urgency built. No… baby, not now.

The water at my feet turned a pinkish murky colour and I knew from the release of pressure that my waters had just broken. Fuck.

When the contraction faded and my legs stopped shaking I carefully stepped out of the shower. Okay… my water’s broken but that doesn’t mean I’ve run out of time. I just need to think of a way of getting Daniel out of the house. I could feel the baby shift and kick within my womb, protesting the situation as much as I was, its head pressing eagerly against my cervix. “Hoooo… it’ll be okay little one. I promise— mnnnnhhhh…” Every breath, every word, that slipped past my lips now laced with a pained groan.

“Are you alright in there, babe?” Daniel asked from the other side of our bathroom door. I clamped my mouth shut and swallowed the involuntary noises from escaping.

“Nng— yeah— fine.” I somehow gritted. The weight and pressure pushing down in my pelvis was quickly making me nauseous.

“Are you sure? You weren’t looking too great downstairs.”

Damn him and his caring nature, just move away from the door before I scream! A contraction struck mere minutes after the last and I couldn’t stop the gasp as my belly visibly hardened and contorted inwards. The pressure was mounting, expanding like a balloon about to burst, my pelvis being shoved apart to make space for the large head that was pressing atop my cervix. I couldn’t breathe, the sensations overwhelming my senses, my stomach rolled and my throat gagged. I was going to be sick.

Dropping to my knees, naked on the floor, I hunched over the toilet bowl and promptly vomited the remnants of last night's dinner into the porcelain. My whole torso contracted in on itself in more ways than one and I completely lost all semblance of control. My taut belly, hardened by labour pains, convulsed and I heaved and coughed loudly. The force of throwing up also resulted in my womb squeezing against the bowling ball in my pelvis, bearing down on the already low head and pushing it into the birth canal.

“Oh sweetheart, are you sick?” Daniel asked through the door. “Let me in honey.”

“No, just— give me a minute…” I gruffed, laying my head in the crook of my elbow.

“We don’t have to go today if you’re not well. I can stay here and look after you.”

Hell no, that is the last thing I need. I asked him to get me some water from the kitchen, to buy me some precious time to gather myself. When the sickness passed I hesitantly put a hand between my legs… the baby so low it felt like it was about to fall out at any minute. I had pushed. I didn’t mean to, it was automatic. But still my body had pushed the baby lower towards its exit. Thankfully it was not as low as it felt as I couldn’t feel a head, but I knew it wouldn’t be long. Wrapping myself in a fluffy dressing gown and schooling as neutral a face as I could, I unlocked the door and greeted my husband as he brought me the requested water.

“I don’t think I’m going to go today, I feel like shit.” I said honestly, taking a sip and slowly walking towards our bed, careful not to waddle from the massive head lodged in my pelvis.

“It’s okay babes, we can cancel. I’ll call your parents.” Daniel offered, helping me to sit.

“No—” I said a little too quickly. “You- you can still go. I’ll just take it easy and s-sleep it off…” He looked at me curiously, trying to ascertain just how unwell I was and if I could be left alone. “Really,” I pleaded, “I’ll be fine. Go, have fun.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I am. Really—mmhh…” My hands clenched tight as another contraction was beginning to appear, my fingernails burrowing deep into my palms. “W-why don’t you go e-early… see if they need h-help setting up.” My stomach tensed beneath my fluffy dressing gown and I shifted subtly on the bed as an immeasurable pressure returned with the pain. This baby was not waiting until the afternoon for Daniel to leave for the party, I desperately needed him to go now.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Daniel joked, tucking a frazzled lock of hair behind my ear. “I want to stay and look after you darling, make sure you’re okay.”

“Mnnn… I just need to lie down…” I huffed, trying to keep the strain from my voice. My body was itching to move, to sway and move my hips, to open up for the emerging baby as the contractions worked hard to deliver the child. But I had to fight against the instincts, ignore all the cues in the recess of my brain. Slumping sideways down on the bed, I curled over my contracting belly and arduously moved to lie under the covers. My skin was radiating heat but I couldn’t remove my dressing gown, couldn’t risk exposing a glimpse of my pregnant body. Had to stay covered, had to hide this baby, had to stay sweating beneath the fluffy gown and duvet covers.

Daniel stroked my hair as I curled up and I couldn’t help but scrunch my eyes through the pain barrelling between my hips. Oh baby, wait a bit more… please.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright hun?” Daniel questioned once more and I managed to gruff out an assurance, stating that I’d be fine and just needed to be alone.

Thankfully I felt the bed shift, my husband getting up and leaving the room saying something about calling the family and giving me space to rest. I sighed in relief at the sound of the bedroom door closing.

Lying on my side helped the constant stabbing pain in my lower back but it was doing nothing to prevent the baby from making its way further down. I could feel it pressing against every nerve from the inside, pushing its way through the narrow space. I tried to squeeze my thighs, to clench everything I could to stop its movements but nothing worked. The pressure was constant, sitting heavily and urgently at the apex of my thighs. Rolling forward I buried my face deep in the pillow to muffle the rattled groan that came from the pit of my stomach. The baby was right there, its imminent arrival clear by the agonising pressure consuming me. I tried to fight it, meeting every wave with defiance, but my attempts were failing. I needed to push.

Before I was even aware of what was happening my whole body tensed and bore down with the peak of the contraction. It felt…satisfying, to give in to the urge and push alongside the tensing muscles, to work with my body instead of against it. Gasping a ragged breath, I pushed again, more forcefully this time. It was moving, inching closer towards my folds. Without thinking I grabbed my leg, still wrapped under the layers of clothing and duvet, and I pulled it towards me so my thigh was beside my contracting belly. I had to make more room, I needed to open myself up for the emerging babe. The back of my knee was damp from sweat and I gripped it tight, opening my hip beneath the covers, and gritting my teeth I pushed again.

It was coming, I could feel it! The contraction soon ended and I let my leg fall back against the other, curled up sideways on the bed and panting frantic breaths. A knock on the bedroom door brought me out of my birthing bubble, suddenly remembering Daniel was still in the house. Oh fuck, what if he heard me pushing?!

“Honey..? Can I come in?” His tentative voice asked and opened the door a crack. I groaned, neither an acceptance or refusal, but it was all I could manage.

Daniel stepped in our bedroom softly. “I’ve spoken with your parents and I’m going to head over there early and help them set up. I know you like to be alone when you’re unwell.” I nearly cried with relief.

“But I’ll come back to check on you before the party starts, okay?” Daniel perched on the edge of the bed and brushed his fingers through my sweaty hair. I nodded and exhaled heavily, hoping it looked like I was just fighting nausea and nothing more. “I’ll get you a bucket, just in case.” Daniel said sweetly and disappeared into our en-suite bathroom.

The contractions were right on top of each other now, the baby was sitting right between my legs desperate to get out. The next wave hit when Daniel was out of sight and I panted as quietly as I could. Don’t push… don’t push… don’t push… I thought over and over again. Curled up on my side my legs drifted apart, one leg bent at the knee, the other straight down the length of the bed. The pressure was slowly killing me; the strain of holding everything in, the baby slipping lower, pressing gently against my labia despite my efforts. Fuck I needed to push, but I daren’t. Daniel was still here…. Breathe… don’t push… breathe… don’t push… Even with the mantra my body did not adhere to the instructions. At the end of each measured breath I could feel my muscles bearing down and pushing the baby, its head starting to part my sensitive lips.

Daniel came back into the room and placed a bucket beside the bed, right next to the pillow where my face was half buried. “How you holding up?” He asked affectionately. I couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, every ounce of strength going into not actively pushing. Instead I closed my eyes and tilted my face further into the pillow.

In the faint background of my personal hell I could hear my husband slowly pottering around our bedroom as he got himself dressed and ready to leave for the party. Every minute dragged on for hours, as he found his trousers and shirt, muttering to himself, all the while I wanted to scream and howl and push! The baby was parting my folds, its head surely poking out between my thighs. Tears dampened the pillow and I was trembling, trying desperately hard not to push. But even without my participation, the baby was slowly making its way into the world. I nervously lowered one of my hands beneath the heavy covers, feeling between my legs. Oh my gosh… that’s my baby I thought as I felt the slimy surface of the partial sliver of its head. It was moving down, every contraction squeezing it further out of my body. My palm clamped hard over the emerging head… don’t… don’t pushhhhhh… a weak groan rumbled my throat as my body uncontrollably pushed, hard.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Daniel asked.

I was far from okay, I was pushing his best friend's baby into my own palm for fucks sake. In between pushes, I gulped a breath and offered a short and snappy “uh-huh” before my body was forced to bear down once more. My hand remained steadfast in its position between my legs and thankfully the baby didn’t slip out any further. Once the contraction eased I panted a relieved sigh.

“I’m heading out now babes.” Daniel stated aloud. “I’ll be back to check on you later. I love you.”

“Ngghh— love you too—” my rasped voice came from under the covers. I was in too much pain to notice the guilt that twisted in my chest.

I remained frozen in the bed, my ears listening desperately for the sound of the front door to close and his car to start. The roar of the engine, the glorious sound, slipped through the vents in the bedroom window and I sobbed with relief. He was gone!!

Immediately I threw the covers off my sweaty skin and tore myself out the tangled mess of my dressing gown. The baby was partially crowning and my gods I needed to push. Everything hurt, everything ached, I needed to move but there was no strength left in my body to get up. Hooking a leg over the edge of the mattress I rolled off the bed and slipped down to my knees on the luscious carpet.

With my elbows on the mattress and my face buried against the sheets, my knees widened on the floor and my hips sank downwards as I pushed with everything that I had. Burning fiery pressure erupted between my thighs and I growled through the excruciating pain, pushing and pushing and pushing. I couldn’t take it anymore, this baby had to get out. My entire body trembled as the baby stretched me open, but I kept going push after push and with a primal grunt the head finally slipped out. Relief flooded through me as the pressure eased. Panting, desperate for air, I was barely aware of any of my other senses; of the now-damp carpet under my knees, or the sound of the engine returning to our driveway, or the creek of the bedroom door being opened.

“Honey?… I errr… I forgot my phone and then I heard you scream. What’s… what’s going on?” Daniel asked, frozen in shock at the door.

“…um… I erm…” I stuttered, speechless and naked beside the bed, an illegitimate baby hanging between my legs. “I umm…I— I— ohhhh… oh I need to push….!!!” Before I could think of an explanation my body was bearing down once more, birthing my husband’s best friend’s baby right beside our marital bed.

[velvet-paradox]

Oops!

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female reader Summary: you accidently call Simon while taking care of yourself. (got inspo from lovi on twitter) Length: Medium Warnings: NSFW 21+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, porn with very little plot female masturbation, male masturbation, descriptive actions, anal mentions, toy mentions, A LOT of dirty talking, detailed smut. ENJOY!!!

It's not that his phone is ringing in the middle of the night. It's not even the fact he'd just finally drifted off to sleep either. When he fumbled and grumbled, (of course he was grumbling) Simon Riley wrote the book on the Art of the Grumble you were certain, he was just relieved it wasn't Price. He was exhausted and was thisfuckingclose to telling the captain to pound sand if he had to pull another fifteen hour shift on base!

But no, it was not captain Price and it wasn't Johnny either. The screen of his phone stark white, taunting him in the dark of his room, as the time and your name and picture popped up. The one he'd taken of you and König in Vienna.

What was this about now? Simon huffed, dark blonde brows forming together. You better not be calling him from the bar again, needing a ride home, not trusting anyone else to swoop in to the drunken rescue. You saved money on Uber's and he got to look after you.

WIn - win.

" 'ello bird, what is it this time?"

Silence.

"Foxy, come on now, it's late. If you need a ride jus--"

"Oh yeah, oh that feels so good." You said through your teeth, hissing from a bit of a distance. What was that? Were you getting laid? Jesus H. You sounded breathless, out of it until some more rustling and now your voice wasn't so clouded in mystery.

You whined out something fierce which both confused and interested to the masked devil.

"Fox, can you hear me? Bird answer m--"

Another low whine followed by a low and quiet buzzing. "Oh fuck, I wish you were here. Oh fuck that feels so good, bet you would have a fucking ball using this one me. Oh Simon… please!"

He sat up quickly, his ear to the phone burning hot, a blush of discovery rising through his naked body, Ghost ran hot most nights, even in the winter months and said fuck it about four years ago and slept nude. Either you were having a decent fucking shag with another man named Simon, or you were thinking about him.

Well what have we here, you little sly little fox?

"So glad I got that princess plug, this feels amazing. Oh Simon, if you only knew, if you only fucking knew the things I want from you. What I'd let you do to me, what I want -oohhh fuck too much too much--" you cried and the buzzing stopped abruptly. You were panting and humming and without a second thought Simon's hand was stroking his waking cock through his sheets.

And just what did you want him to do? Simon bit his lip as he listened in, pulling his phone away only for a moment, making sure the volume was at it's highest before he put it on speaker.

"O-oh god, yeah. I don't wanna' cum again just yet! Want you to tease me, tie me up and make a mess. Mmmm maybe you'd make me clean it up too. I'd ride your fucking boots if you asked!"

Oh. Simon was not expecting that sentence or the filthy way you moaned, satisfied with saying it out loud.

"Can I? Can I L.T. can I ride your boots, I'll clean up m-my mess, I promise. Mmm, sitting under desk, your personal desk bunny you're," you really started breathing hard then, whimpering as he could now make out a wet, splotching sort of noise. Oh fuck- you were fingering yourself now. "Your fucktoy. Oh god! Yeah, I wanna' be your little fuck toy. Use me. Use my mouth, use my fucking pussy, I am so wet right now, oh shit!" You giggled wetly to yourself, gasping and Simon could only imagine you adding another finger into your spongy hole.

A fucktoy? boot riding? a plug in your asshole with fingers in your cunt? You were a nasty, freaky little thing. Oh this was better than any video he had watched recently! Interactive as he continued to stroke himself with you, the sheet had earned a wet pre-cum spot and had to be pulled away, Simon put his head down and spat on his cock, smearing his saliva around the girthy crown of it.

You were a dirty girl.

He loved it.

You were demure in the halls, paid close attention to detail, slick and sly when you need be, hence your call sign being Fox. You were quiet but funny, witty and no one had a bad word to drop about about you. Your lore on how you ended up with the 141 was something of legend, a myth that one day you just appeared like an apparition and no one questioned why. Just roll with it. You didn't cause trouble, kept your nose down but you knew things about each team member that soldiers could only dream of knowing. A book of secrets. Clearly.

Simon chuckled darkly to himself all the things you could come up with, possibly thing he hadn't even heard of. Simon wasn't into the BDSM scene, he knew a variety of knots of course but to use them on someone, never given the opportunity. As he spat on his cock again, the image of your face appeared. Maybe you liked to be spat on in too. The cute little whimpers and gasps you were doing on your end might suggest you like a lot more than just spit.

"Simon please! Bet you feel good, I know y-you're big, you'd stretch me out. Make me gape for you, oh fuck that's so hot!" You're erratic, your sheets are rubbing together faster and you're now on the verge of squealing like a stuck piglet. "Hold me down, pull my hair, those big fucking hands of yours on me, in me. Oh baby, finger me nice and deep, deeper than I can reach."

You wanted him so desperately and that made the lieutenant fuck his fist faster, slippery and noisy and wet. His hard cock just sloppily going up and down his shaft, he squeezed the mushroom cap like head of it, felt himself jerk and twitch before going hands free. Slapping it against his messy palm.

"Talk me through it baby, tell me what to do, how to do it. How fast, how slo-ow, oh yeah that's nice. Oh fuck I can feel it coming, I'm gonna' cum again. Shit." You grunted and made the most delicious sound Simon had ever heard in his whole damn life.

You were moaning, tapping the gem of the plug if he were correct.

Tap tap, tap tap.

"Oh yeah! Fuck my ass, finger my pussy, make me cum. Make me squirt, shoot your fat fucking load all over my face. I'll be your best girl, I swear it I swear it! I'm gonna' cum if I pull this out now." You cried, panting to your little hearts' desire. Simon was close too, he did his best to match your moans and sobs of pleasure, planting his feet and bucking his defined hips.

"I'd cum just about anywhere on ya', Foxy." Simon grunted quietly to himself. "Foxy fucktoy. Mmmm that does 'ave a bit of a ring to it, aye? Bad fuckin' girl."

You slapped something then. Your face, a tit perhaps, your pussy but you were whining and carrying on and Simon had to shut his eyes, imagining you working the princess plug in and out.

Oh for fucks' sake, he'd sell his left nut to see your pretty face, worn out, fucked out, in bliss and pleasure, sticking your pink tongue out. Eyes rolled back as you continued to fuck your fingers in tandem with his own fist.

"Gonna' cum oh shit, I'm gonna' cum again. For you. Only for you, sir!" He could hear your sloppy fingers plunging in and out of you pussy, faster and faster, louder and louder you became.

"Oh fuck yes, Simon! Yes, sir!"

You came with a shout, groaning and grunting behind your teeth. You sounded absolutely feral, pornographic. He couldn't hold it back any longer either, Simon bit into his cheek and came into his hand, it shot up and onto his stomach, muscles tight as he coaxed the last dribbling bits of cum onto his skin. He gave his palm a 'good game' type slap with his cock, laying back further into his pillows.

God damn.

"Fuck that was good. If only, if only you were here mmmm." You finally huffed out. You rolled over, to whatever side of your bed or maybe just readjusted yourself and your toys but he heard a clank of something and then your voice, clear as day. "What the fuck…oh my god. Oh no! Oh please don't be a voice note!"

Simon had to chuckle at your change in attitude.

"Oh for the love of… please be asleep. Pleasepleaseplease L.T. be asleep. I didn't mean to call --"

"On the contrary love," Simon held up his phone to his mouth, he heard you gasp on the other end. "I heard every last word and you sounded so damn fine. Bet you're glowing after coming so damn hard," you scrambled for words on your line, mumbling out a sorry excuse for an apology. He clicked his teeth at you like one would a horse. "Ah ah, Foxy. If there's a green Post-it on my door when I wake, your wish will be my command. And I am often fond of those aren't, Fox?"

"Very much so, sir."

"That's a girl. Now why don't you go get cleaned up and get some rest. Depending on your answer, soldier, you just might need it."

Simon chuckled to himself when he rose that morning, his entire door was covered with little green Post-its and none were the wiser when you passed each other in the mess hall.

[bangtanficsforyou]

Fine Line (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.

Au: Enemies to lovers.

Word count: 2.4K

Genre: angst, smut, fluff (i am ninety percent sure I'll write a part two at some point with all the spice)

Summary: You hate Jungkook. Jungkook hates you. It's simple. Until it isn't.

A/N: here's my patreon for early access to all my works and exclusive drabbles and aneek peaks!

Part two here!

"You're beautiful," he speaks loudly to be heard over the loud blaring music.

"Thank you," you express your appreciation not only through your words but also through your red hot cheeks and shy smile.

His hand tightens around your waist as the both of you sway gently along with the music. "You're welcome, pretty."

Chuckling, you place one of your palms on his chest and look up at him.

The night has been filled with subtle touches, light teasing and full of laughter. You didn't expect you'd have this much fun when you agreed to go on a date with the guy you matched with, a few weeks ago. But it has been a pleasant surprise so far and you have been feeling glad over the decision of going out tonight.

You both dance with low giggles and occasional compliments are thrown in the air. That is until the music changes into something more upbeat.

"Would you like to go to the bar?"

You're relieved on hearing that question and couldn't agree sooner. It's not unknown to you that with the change of music comes the typical club activity aka grinding on each other. And you're not in the mood for that so it's rather wise to remove yourself from the dance floor.

One might question, why then did you choose a club of all places? Simple reason, a crowded place is safe for a first date. Why not a restaurant? Because you were not really that excited about the date at first and a restaurant felt a bit too intimate. What if there's no flow of conversation? What will you do then? Sit there awkwardly and enjoy the sounds of knives and forks?

Hence, clubbing.

You two sit yourselves next to each other on stools and ask the bartender to make the both of you drinks. Something sweet for you, something strong for him.

"What's the last book that you have indulged yourself in?"

You perk up at the mention of books. You had mentioned to him previously that you absolutely love reading books and you would stay in fictional worlds if you could. And you're impressed that he remembers that small piece of detail.

You tell him about the book you're currently reading and all the reasons why you love it. You get even more excited when he adds his recent reading experiences and from then on, there's no stopping the chit-chat between you two.

The conversation moves on from books to people in both of your lives and then to food and then lord knows, to what.

At some point, you both get tipsy and you can tell he's more affected by the drinks than you are. It gets to the point where you feel like it's better for him to head home now before he gets to a stage where he cannot get home by himself.

"You should probably stop with the drinks now," you suggest, softly. "Would you like for me to book you a cab?"

He dismisses your words with a wave of his hand. "Nah, sweetheart, I am only getting started."

He throws his hand in the air and before you can register what's happening, he's placing them over your shoulders. His fingers rub the skin of your arms and he grins at you. You squirm in your seat, suddenly finding his grin to be not that attractive. You try to tell yourself that there's nothing to be scared of, some people tend to get a little touchy when they get drunk.

"The night has only got started, sweetheart," he mutters, getting incredibly close to you. You think he's attempting that thing where someone whispers in your ears in a sexy gruff voice in hopes that it'd be attractive. But if anything, you shiver in disgust and fear.

You try to put some distance between the two of you but he doesn't budge. It's only when you put a little more force that you're successful at your attempts.

He's taken off guard by your sudden use of force but his surprise fades and he smirks. "Do you like it rough, babygirl?"

Okay, that's it.

"I need to go use the washroom," you come up with the most basic excuse ever but you doubt in his drunk state, he'd ever pay attention to how lame you sound.

You're right in your assumption that he doesn't pay attention. However, he's not happy that you're leaving him. "You should not leave me here. We should leave together for my place."

The lopsided grin on his face makes your stomach churn in a bad way. Before you can get a word out to come up with some excuse, a glass of shot is being placed in front of him.

"Sir, your order," the bartender says and that seems to be the magic words as he seems to forget that he had an issue with you leaving him moments ago.

You ease up a little bit and don't miss the look the bartender is giving you. She seems to be telling you with her eyes that she will make sure that your date doesn't follow you.

The relief on your face is the only thing that serves as a mode of expressing your gratitude as you quickly flee the spot. Not knowing any place better, you actually do find yourself in the washroom. What if you were to stand outside the club and somehow he catches up with you? In the washroom, at least there will be other girls.

You take your phone out and hesitate for a brief moment. Would it be the right thing to do to ask your best friend, Jisoo, to come and pick you up? You could take a cab but with the sudden turn of events, you feel scared to be alone.

Pushing your hesitance aside you shoot her a text, knowing she would be very mad if she were to learn you didn't text her when in need.

You: can you please come and pick me up?

Jis 🥵: sure can

Jis 🥵: but is everything alright?

You chew on your lower lip and decide this is no time to go into details.

You: I'll tell you once I reach home

Jis 🥵: sure

Jis 🥵: i can see your location

Jis 🥵: I'll be there in fifteen

You sigh in relief when you read the text. You wait for exactly twelve minutes before stepping out of the washroom, getting a little impatient to get out of the club.

However, the moment you step out, you're met with a figure that you recognise immediately. Jungkook. And by the looks of it, he looks agitated about something as he looks at his phone screen.

You're no fool to think that Jungkook being here is a mere coincidence and walk towards him. The sound of your heels catches his attention and he looks up, finally noticing you.

"Why are my calls not reaching you?" He asks, looking absolutely pissed. Any other time, you'd have felt extremely satisfied at that but you fail to feel any of that right now.

To address his question, his calls are not reaching you because you have him blocked. Why?

Before answering the why, you should probably get into how you and Jungkook know each other.

You see Jisoo has a boyfriend, Taehyung. And Taehyung, bless his sweet soul, has an absolute devil of a best friend, Jungkook.

You never imagined that you'd ever have this much animosity with your best friend's boyfriend's best friend. But for some reason unknown, you and Jungkook just simply do not get along. You both are involved in constant bickering, pulling pranks and throwing insults at each other.

Which leads to the why, you have Jungkook blocked. Last time, he posted an advertisement on his social media saying there's a need for someone who can do a good Minnie Mouse impression and put your phone number at the bottom of it. For several days people kept calling you asking if they can give you their demo. Some didn't even bother asking, they thought saying hello in the Minnie Mouse voice would earn them brownie points. It made you so incredibly furious that out of sheer pettiness, you blocked Jungkook.

"Why are you here?" You ask instead of answering his initial question.

"What? I'm your prince charming for tonight," Jungkook smirks, his previous agitation melting away and it immediately irks you. "I heard you needed a ride and so here I am."

Your eyes follow his and you immediately shake your head when you realise he's asking you to get on his bike. Jungkook and his bike go hand in hand, so much so that you hadn't paid attention to it when you first saw him. However, now you feel incredibly stupid for not realising any sooner that his bike is supposed to be your ride for the night.

"No, no, no, I'm not getting on that," you shake your head vehemently.

Jungkook raises a brow. "You have no other choice, sweetheart."

"I'll book a cab," you grumble, knowing very well that you are not quite fond of that idea.

"I'm already here. Just get on the bike Y/N."

You don't reply for a few moments before sighing when you realise how your argument is incredibly stupid. "Fine."

Jungkook grins and gets on the bike. He starts the engine and motions you to take your seat. You hesitate for a moment but then get behind him. He hands you a helmet before putting one on himself.

You wait for him to start the bike but you are confused when Jungkook doesn't do so. "What are you waiting for?"

"For you to wrap your arms around me," just by the tone of his voice, you can tell he's enjoying this thoroughly.

You scoff. "Why would I ever do that?"

Your question is answered when he revs the engine and the force of it makes you stumble forward. Involuntarily, your arms wrap around his torso as you cling to him for dear life.

"There's my good girl," Jungkook comments with a cheeky grin on his face and takes off.

With how fast he's going, you find yourself feeling scared and hold on to him tighter. His hard back presses against your chest and you rest your chin on his right shoulder, soon finding the position comfortable and despising it at the same time. You both spend the entire journey to your place in this manner and in absolute silence.

You're surprised at how quickly you reach your destination. It's like his motorbike flies. Untangling yourself from Jungkook, you get off the bike. You remove the helmet and throw it at him, not wanting to spend another moment in his presence.

But before you can walk inside your home, he grabs your hand. "Woah, woah, woah. Do I not get a thank you?"

"Fuck off, asshole," you roll your eyes and free yourself from his grip. You're aware that if you were to ask anyone they'd tell you, you are the one who's being an asshole but you and Jungkook simply do not share the kind of dynamic, where one thanks the other. If it were Jungkook in your place, he'd probably say something cheeky or call you names. He'd do everything but not say thank you.

You take the key out of your purse and are about to unlock your door, when you're swiftly turned around in the blink of an eye and the next thing you know, you are caged between your front door and Jungkook.

"What do you want, Jungkook?"

The corner of his lips lift up. "A simple thank you."

You smile too, the only difference being yours is sarcastic. "Thank you so much Jungkook for coming to pick me up because Jisoo asked you to."

"She didn't ask me to," he replies, immediately, shaking his head. The action causes a few of his curls to fall on his face and with him being this close to you, you let your mind drift to how easy it would be for you to just gently remove those strands out his face. However, you control yourself, getting annoyed with the whole situation.

"Of course, she didn't ask you to! You came because you wanted to really help me." Your words are so sweet that they drip venom.

Jungkook observes you closely, before curiosity gets the best of him. "Why do you hate me so much?"

You're caught off guard by his question. The hate between you and Jungkook has always been mutual and reciprocated. None of you have ever questioned it. Hating each other is what feels right, what feels natural. You never imagined that any of you would ever question it.

"Well…you know," you stutter, finding yourself at a loss of words.

"No, I don't," he challenges. "Tell me Y/N, what have I done for you to hate me so much?"

"Y-you know, y-you know you are not a good guy," the words sound lame to even your own ears but that's the best you come up with.

"That's it, huh?"

You roll your eyes and look away from him, not wanting to make it obvious that you do not have a proper answer to give. However, Jungkook grabs your chin and makes you look at him.

He leans in incredibly close and you feel his breath on your skin. It makes you wonder what he's doing, it makes you wonder if he's going to kiss you and it makes you wonder why you aren't moving away from him. Your breathing speeds up and your chest heaves to give testimony to that. Your eyes drop to his lips and for the first time you find the previously annoying mole under them, cute. Just when you think he's about to close the distance he goes straight to your ears.

"I think you want me to be the bad guy," he whispers. "Because you know I'd be too good to you."

He nips at your earlobe before backing away, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

"What are you doing?" You may not have been kissed but you sound just as breathless as one gets after a heavy session of kissing.

"Good night princess," he winks at you before getting on his bike. "Have sweet dreams."

What just happened?

Part two is available here.