#she also tries to cover up her feelings with mean words

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[novelist-becca]

I think Kyo and Rin is what you get when the tsundere trope is written right

[fingertipsmp3]

I think the weirdest lie I’ve been told by a pathological liar was when this friend I had in secondary school told us all she got kicked out of her house and was living in like a random shed and didn’t have access to a bathroom or electricity, and everyone was somehow believing her, and I was just looking at her like.. your hair is straightened, teeth brushed, you washed your face and you smell of soap

[gghostwriter]

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face. 

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.” 

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.” 

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.” 

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?” 

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?” 

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice. 

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?” 

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.” 

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.” 

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?” 

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater. 

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?” 

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk. 

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation. 

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?” 

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed. 

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth. 

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.” 

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory. 

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up. 

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who. 

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.” 

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?” 

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them. 

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language. 

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst 

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?” 

“What? No! No, of course not!” 

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow. 

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend. 

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue. 

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course. 

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down. 

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking? 

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time. 

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk. 

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement. 

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered. 

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement. 

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with. 

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.  

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance. 

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest. 

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.” 

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 2

in which sexy construction worker!rafe who spends his days 'lifting heavy stuff and building shit' (his words) and driving shy!reader home, shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night...

c/w: construction worker!rafe being a tease, slight somnophilia, smut (dry humping, p-in-v, unprotected sex)

wc: 2.7k

hi! this is a part two to this (also this whole story was originally supposed to be just a small blurb consisting of a few silly sentences but then i got a bit carried away :D) anyways hope you enjoy xx

part 3 part 4 part 5

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

It’s past midnight when her doorbell rings, making her brows furrow. She throws the fluffy covers away, immediately yearning for the warmth of them as she pads her bare feet along the chilly hardwood floors of her apartment.  

No one has ever been at her door this late, which makes her hesitate. Maybe it’s just her neighbor asking for sugar, she tries to reason, as if the retired elderly lady living next door would even be up this late. For all she knows, it could be a criminal who’s escaped prison, holding a bloody knife at her. 

Curiosity ends up getting the best of her (as always) when she gingerly opens the door, mentally preparing to face a serial killer.

However, all her worries wash away like pollen under rain when she realizes it’s Rafe standing tall before her. 

“Oh, hi. What are you— what are you doing here?” A surprised look paints over her visage.  

“You forgot this in my car, thought you might need it back,” he’s grinning, holding out a phone to her, pale yellow case making her realize it’s her phone. She almost doesn’t recognize it, since it appears so tiny in his massive paw, almost like a miniature version of the device she’s grown accustomed to.  

“Oh my god, I was looking everywhere for it, thought I was gonna have to buy a new one,” she takes it from him, a grateful smile etching her features.  

“Yeah, couldn’t exactly call you,” he shakes his head at his terrible attempt at a joke. 

A delighted giggle escapes her throat, nonetheless, eyes crinkling and teeth poking out; forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up as well as he finally takes in her appearance.  

A worn-out t shirt a few sizes too big and…well, that’s it. She’s not wearing anything else. He’s trying not to stare at her plush thighs, or the way the hem of the shirt slightly climbs up, revealing even more skin as she rakes a hand through a messy head of hair, swallowing nervously under his attention.  

Unfortunately for the both of them, he never actually ended up fucking her when she came over to his place last week and had him cook for her. He just felt so bad about initiating something like that when she kept yawning through forkfuls of pasta, eyes barely staying open as she complained about her limbs aching and how she was so exhausted she could sleep for a week after the particularly long shift she’d just had.  

Which is why he simply drove her home after their late-night dinner and wished her a good night with a heavy hand on her shoulder, thumb smoothing over the material of her shirt, letting her rest in tranquility. Telling himself he could be patient with her, not wanting to rush anything.  

However, she’s not making it very easy for him right now when there’s only one piece of clothing covering her. She looks so sleepy and pretty he has half the mind to pick her up in his arms and slump down on her bed, crawling under crisp sheets and feel how her lungs expand against his chest.  

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He carefully asks, suddenly worried he’s disturbed her serene slumber.  

“No, no. I mean, I was in bed but couldn’t really sleep so…” she trails off, desperately trying to come up with something to make him stay a bit longer, not wanting him to go yet; finding immense comfort in his assured presence.  

“Um, do you— do you want to come in? I could make you some tea or something?” She clumsily offers.  

His brows raise, surprised at her proposition. She’s being uncharacteristically bold; his mouth twists into an amused simper. 

“Actually, forget I said anything, you’re probably really tired and just wanna go home, sorry, I don’t know why I even—” she scrambles to correct herself, and now that sounds more like the girl Rafe’s grown familiar with.  

“Don’t be stupid, of course I’ll come in,” he cuts her off, stepping past the threshold, taking a look around her cozy home. Leafy plants adding greenery to the small space and picturesque paintings fixed on the cream-colored walls. It’s cute, he thinks.  

She sets a steaming mug in front of him on her kitchen table and sits down next to him on a wooden chair. He’s definitely not staring at the way the bottom of her shirt rides up the tops of her thighs, allowing for the flimsy material of her panties to peek out. He clears his throat.  

“You often have trouble sleeping?” He tries to focus on something else, anything else, taking a slow sip of the searing liquid; nearly burning his tongue in the process.  

“Yeah, sometimes. It’s just sometimes it’s hard to shut my brain off after spending all day at the cafe. I try to fall asleep but the loud noises of the customers talking and the clinking of plates and spoons keep replaying in my head and suddenly I’m wide awake, you know?” She explains.  

“I’m sorry, is there anything that helps?” He prods.  

“I don’t know, I guess just trying to think of something else or talking with someone else,” she mumbles out. 

“Oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re just using me in order to fall asleep?” He teases, grinning when he manages to drag out yet another giggle from her mouth.  

“Yeah, I suppose I am,” her eyes glimmer like little stars when she looks at him.  

“Should I feel offended right now?” He jokingly scoffs.  

“No, you should feel flattered, I don’t invite just anyone into my home at almost 1 am, just so you know.” 

And he thinks he likes this side of her, all playful and sleepy, she’s a lot less reserved than her usual fully rested and overly conscious self would be, more carefree. Maybe that’s the reason he lets the next words escape the gaps of his teeth.  

“You into cuddling?” He asks, profound aquamarine locking with her rounded eyes.  

“Uh— I mean, I probably would be if I had someone to cuddle with, but I don’t so…” she drifts off, not sure how to respond. 

“Wanna cuddle with me?” He says it so nonchalantly, and she doesn’t understand how he’s so indifferent to this whole situation while she feels dizzy, dazed mind reeling and vivid heart tingling in her ribcage. 

“Really? You want to? But wouldn’t it be weird?” She seems taken aback by his proposal. 

“Why the fuck would it be weird? I mean, we’re friends, right?” His brows crease. 

“Yes, of course we are, I just—” 

“Look, all I’m saying, is that it might help you sleep, yeah? Having something else to focus on and shit,” he reasons, making her realize she’s totally overthinking this; he’s simply trying to help.  

“You’re right, yeah, we should do that then,” she agrees and swiftly gets up on wobbly feet, almost falling face first on the ground, if not for his strong grip on her waist steadying her, grounding her, drawing a faint gasp from the back of her throat at his sudden proximity.  

“Easy there, Sweetheart,” he chuckles against her hair, finding her eagerness to get into bed with him amusing.  

“Sorry,” she mumbles, a raspberry hue dusting over her cheeks.  

And that’s how they end up tangled in each other under her soft sheets, his beefy arms wrapped tightly around her middle, caging her in with gentle fingertips toying with the hem of her shirt. His sturdy chest rises and falls against her back in tandem with his steady breaths, pacifying her; coaxing her heavy lids to flutter closed.  

He’s so warm and big making her feel so secure and safe she thinks she wouldn’t mind doing this again.  

“You good?” He murmurs next to her ear.  

“Mhm,” she blissfully croons, letting out a content exhale.  

Her mind begins to topple over the edge of reality, plummeting into oblivion; a far away dreamland where everything is upside down and the ether is evermore the shade of fluffy cotton candy and the sand consists of stardust and ecstasy.  

“Sweet dreams,” is the last thing her misty awareness grasps onto before she’s in the tender embrace of a crepuscular dormancy.  

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

She’s lethargic in her movements when she rouses from the abstruse blankness she seems to have lost herself in. Rafe’s heavy arm is draped over her waist, trapping her body into his and it’s murky in her unlit bedroom; the pale moonlight gleaming through the slots in her curtains the only beacon illuminating the space.  

The lines of her cerebrum are blurred and she’s not sure what has woken her up.  

Then she feels it; something poking her from behind, pressing against her ass. There’s a crinkle in her brow until her eyes widen in realization.  

He’s hard. Rafe is hard and she can practically feel the culprit of his excitement since he’s only wearing a pair of boxers, having complained about getting all too hot during the night to wear anything more. 

She swallows.  

What is she supposed to do? 

She shifts against him, trying to untangle her limbs from his. However, her attempt is proved fruitless when instead of unchaining her, he lets out a low groan, rumbling deep from his firm chest; grip tightening around her smaller form.  

“Rafe?” She calls out. 

No response.  

“Rafe? Wake up.”  

Still nothing. 

She can feel him breathing heavily against her hair; pawing at her hips every now and then, trying to pull her even closer, even if they’re already effectively glued together and there’s absolutely no means for her to move.  

She’s starting to become sticky between her thighs as he drags her against his cock again; seemingly stuck in a stupor.  

She mewls when her clit throbs, pestering for some sort of friction. And that’s when he finally stirs, the weight of his arms loosening like a tight knot unfurling and her lungs are finally able to greedily suck in brisk air.  

“Shit, sorry, my bad” his tone is gravelly and at that, some sort of birds begin flapping their wings in her tummy, jabbing at her insides. 

However, he doesn’t pull away like she half expects; her face heats up. 

“It’s uh— it’s okay. I mean…no worries,” she rambles because what the fuck is she supposed to say? 

“No, it’s fully my fault, just had quite a nice dream,” he admits, voice coarse. 

“Oh. What was it about?” She inquires, yawning, perhaps too curious for her own good.  

“You wanna know?” His brows raise, surprised. 

She hums.  

“Well, there was this really pretty girl, and she had me in her mouth and was letting me do whatever I wanted to her,” he murmurs with a heady tone overlaying his response.  

“Oh,” she tries to appear indifferent, although there’s a pitiful sprout of jealousy threatening to blossom from the damp soil in the pit of her stomach at his words.  

He chuckles at how oblivious she is. “You’re silly sometimes, you know?” He was practically dry-humping her just now, was he not? Why would he be dreaming about another girl when he’s got her right here with him? 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, smiling to himself.  

“So, what else happened?”  

“What else? Okay, then she let me do this,” he says at the same time as he grabs her hips again, pushing against her, earning a faint whimper from her when she can feel how big he is through the thin fabric of her underwear. 

“Rafe…what are you doing?” She manages to ask through a whine; his blunt nails denting the exposed skin of her thighs.  

“Got no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He mutters, shallow. 

“I— what are you— what are you talking about?” Her brain is foggy and she’s not able to think straight when he’s so close.  

He doesn’t answer, instead continuing the retelling of his dream. “Then I grabbed her like this,” he lifts her on top of him in one smooth motion, as if she weighs nothing more than a piece of paper. Her inhale gets stuck somewhere along the way when he paws at her hips, shuffling her around until she’s straddling him, properly sitting on top of his cock and he lets out a heartfelt grunt when she moves her achy cunt over him.  

“You like this? Such a needy little thing, yeah?” He helps her find some relief by grappling at her hips; dragging her against his cock, filthy groans escaping his mouth when he feels her wetness saturating the two layers of cotton between them.  

“Rafe, can you…”  

“Can I what, hm? Play with you a little?” He says as he slips a hand in her panties, fingers petting at her puffy clit and a loud moan leaves her when she lifts the fabric of her shirt up in order to have a better view.  

“Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl. Getting real fucking wet from me just being close to you, yeah?” His thumb rubs lazy circles on her sensitive button, making her cry out his name as she presses down harder against his cock. 

“Shit, gonna come in my fucking pants if you keep doing that. You wanna know what else was in my dream?” 

She nods, frantic.  

“I pushed this little piece of fabric here to the side,” he says as he plucks at her underwear, doing just that. “And then, I did this,” he mutters as he takes himself out from the confines and her eyes round out as she looks down at it in his palm, mesmerized. He thuds the head of his cock on her clit, one, two, three times, and then smears it on her sticky folds, painting it up and down her soaked cunt.  

“Rafe…” she whines, desperate to feel him inside her. Unfortunately for her, he’s feeling a little mean, pressing just the tip inside her tight hole, slowly pushing in and out, turning her into a whimpering mess. The hydrangea blue of his eyes is locked down to where they connect, fascinated.  

“Fuck, Sweetheart, does that feel nice?” He asks, swiping a thumb over her swollen bud, tucking his cock in a little deeper, forcing a loud noise to leave her throat.  

“Feels so good, Rafe, I think I’m gonna…” she trails off, lids heavy as she stretches around him.  

“You’re gonna come already?” he chuckles, amusement coating his face, nudging his dick about halfway in and out, never fully plunging it inside of her though.  

“You feel so good, I can’t— can’t hold it,” water droplets are gathering in the corners of her eyes, catching to her lashes as teary eyes look into larimar and she rolls her hips against him, chasing after some sort of release. 

“Shit, go on then, let me feel you soak my cock, yeah?” He encourages her and she doesn’t need to be told twice; crying out and throbbing around him, hips stuttering as her cunt pulses and she’s unspooling on top of him. 

“There you go, just fucking give it to me,” he grunts and all of a sudden, he feels his own orgasm approaching; rolling down a hill like a landslide. She’s squeezing around him so tight, he can’t help but thrust his hips into her, a guttural moan leaving him when he stuffs his cock profoundly into her, to the hilt.  

He stills inside her and then he’s groaning out when his cum gushes out from his drippy tip, coating her gummy walls in white, filling her to the brim; making her feel so full. She thinks she could die happy right now.  

There’s so much of it, to the point where the sticky substance begins to seep out from where they’re connected as they both pant, trying to even out their breathing.  

She turns into something mellow in his arms, slumping down against him, burying her face in his neck as he draws sluggish circles on her back, calming her down with tender words spoken in gentle murmurs.  

“Did so good for me, shit, we should do this more often, yeah?” He says with a sleepy tinge.   

And she’s completely out of it, head as empty as ever, merely managing an amorphous hum in agreement; tumbling down a slippery slide right back into a nebulous slumber. 

[moechies]

would you mayhaps mind writing more toji x bunny!hybrid reader... perchance...

pretty pleek 🥺

(ALSO I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM AHHH)

cw ❤︎ bunny is a little weird ‘n loves sniffing toji’s fat bawls ;( don’t make fun of her ! toji makin bunny jealous , throatfuckin !!!

you’re a possessive, insatiable, and messy little thing. and although he does truly love every single one of your animalistic traits, it’s definitely something anybody would find out of the ordinary. not like he minds a bit.

₊˚⊹ ❤︎

toji adores the way you pout, eyes growing bleary when he tells you he needs to leave the home for work. it’s not so much him needing to do his job, but at the mention of a ‘she’ twined into one of his sentences, and now it’s the only thing you find yourself focusing on.

he urges you not to cry, hoisting you onto his lap and pressing your hiccuping self into his warm chest before shushing you gently. but you don’t see the ill-intentioned smirk that spreads across his plum lips as he soothes you from above.

“mhm, it’s an overnight mission, s’i won’t be home till tomorrow, bun.”

“a-are you going to sleep with her ? in the same bed ?” you question meekly, and toji lets out an unassuring hum.

toji loves working you up with his words, and bringing you back down with his cock. it’s so much of a game to him, but not to you.

your poor sensitive heart clenches when he offers no sort of affirmation, leaving your little mind to wonder aimlessly. your chest huffs with both frustration and anger at his pauses, quickly attempting to pull off his chest and away from the mean, mean man.

“i-i hate you !”

but no, he doesn’t let you pull off. he holds you down tight, thighs clad against his meatier ones as his stiff cock prods against your warm cunt. “g-get.. away !” you yelp, turning away to avoid the man from seeing the falling tears that leak from your pretty eyes.

“shh, bunny. c’mere.” he chuckles, pressing your resisting chest against his despite your tried efforts, pressing gentle kisses across your face covered with streaky tears. “‘course ‘m not gonna sleep with her, dumb bunny.” you hiccup, refusing to look into him before plopping your cheek against his chest.

“liar . ‘m gonna kill her.” you whisper.

toji chuckles again, petting your hair and soft, fallen ears, pulling them up high to resemble your usual happy persona with perky ears.

“don’t be so naive, bun. ‘m yours, and yer mines. promise, hm ?”

“p-promise ?”

“i do, i promise.” he speaks, humping his bulge against your chubby cunt. you yelp, reaching out for toji’s arms for support. “c’mere. let me make it up to my bunny for bein’ s’mean.”

❤︎ ₊˚⊹

the sun’s glare peeks through the translucent curtains, waking toji from his slumber. he groans, reaching his arm over expectingly, wanting nothing more but to envelop your soft body into his; just to feel his arm fall against soft sheets instead of your skin.

the sudden throbbing ache in between his legs feels much more prominent than before, his thigh twitching at the unfamiliar feeling.

he cracks an eye open, peeking down, and…

he can’t believe his eyes.

you; your insatiable little self, with his boxers tugged barely below his sack, and your little hand pushing back on the base of his cock. your nose is nuzzled against his fat, dewy balls, taking deep inhales of his musky scent. his vision trails down your other arm, leading his sight to your hand in between your soft thighs, erratically pumping two little digits in your chubby pussy while grinding onto a soft, white pillow all at once.

“m—mister… hnnn,”

your nose twitches incessantly, nuzzling the bud impossibly deep against his manhood, little pink tongue even slipping out to get a taste.

your ears flare out to the side of your body, hairs standing, cottontail twitching because he knows you’re just so close, you’re almost there, and your little pouting lips trying their hardest to keep your mewls quiet.

and finally, you let out a content cry, filthing your tiny fingers in thick, creamy cum. your humping comes to a slow, and you finish the job by leaving a long lick of saliva against toji’s cock for one last moment of wonder.

toji can’t help but laugh, scaring the bunny life out of you. you freeze, but he stops moving. it’s just a dream, right ? there’s no way you woke him up.

and just when you’re about to scurry away, clean up your mess and slip back into the sheets as if nothing every happened, there’s a hard tug on your sensitive little ears, one that drags you back towards your boyfriend’s standing cock where you were just a few seconds ago.

did you really think he wouldn’t notice ? poor bunny.

you squeak, his cock is harshly pressed into your warm gaped, mouth, and—

“what a rude bunny. usin’ me t’get that weeping cunny off without somethin’ in return. y’owe me this, hm ?”

₊˚⊹ ❤︎

“y’r so damn messy.”

toji grumbles, fingers threading through your hair, tugging at your ears.

his thighs are covered in your sticky slobber, strings of saliva dripping down his length and falling against his bushy base.

you don’t care. a mess is easy to clean and temporary, but who knows when your owner will leave on a mission, allowing your mouth to be empty for days ?

your cheek bulges with his chub, his pre slipping against the soft flesh of your mouth and leaving a salted flavor against your tongue.

“c’mon, take it deeper.” toji urges, adjusting your little face by your hair so that his pudgy tip lays against your throat.

“bigggg stretch, bunny.” he giggles, watching your eyes widen and hands slap against his meaty thigh when he presses down your unprepared throat, stretching the resistant flesh violently. you gag a multitude of times, mouth leaking uncontrollably as if you’re lubing toji for a smoother process.

“looks like this messy bunny mouth does have some good use f’it, hm ?”

❤︎ ₊˚⊹

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[fangswbenefits]

Intimacy

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Lactation kink. Fangs. Implied breeding kink. A comprehensive study on intimacy with Miguel O’Hara.

“She’s finally sound asleep.”

Holding back a yawn as you entered the living room, you were promptly met with a very heavy-eyed Miguel O’Hara on the couch, enjoying the comforts of home.

“Thank you,” he said truthfully, straightening up lightly in his seat. “Come here.”

You paced towards him, lazily settling on his lap, both legs framing his as two big and warm hands sprawled across your back, pulling you into an embrace.

Instinctively, your eyes fluttered shut once cheek came to rest on his shoulder, taking in his body warmth and enjoying the steady heartbeat that drummed against your chest.

You figured you might just fall asleep and don’t fight against it. Taking care of a baby had been taking a toll on you both as of late, but it was to be expected.

Still, you missed moments like this. No talking, just feeling right at home in a silent embrace.

Miguel planted a few kisses to the back of your neck, but they were void of any sexual bearing. You knew what he meant with those. Absolute gratitude and devotion.

“Next time, I’ll put her to sleep,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hmm.”

His hands glided along your back, fingertips applying just enough pressure to raise goosebumps across your skin.

“I mean it.”

“You’re also tired,” you drawled out with a yawn, body slumping fully into him. “Work and all that…”

Another tender kiss. “But I have responsibilities here, too.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“You taught me how.”

Point taken.

Silent seconds ticked by and you shifted on his lap into a more comfortable position, ready to enter the valley of dreams.

“I miss you,” he said all of a sudden.

His hands settled on your arms to straighten you, a pair of red eyes encasing yours.

“I miss us.”

Miguel wasn’t a man to deliver empty words as filler, so you knew that he genuinely meant it, which had your heart to skip a beat.

His digital suit began to fragment and reced, exposing the skin underneath. Your placed your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscles flex under your touch.

He was so handsome. Almost unfairly so.

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered.

You nodded, bringing your lips to meet his in a lazy kiss as you dragged your fingers along his hair, earning a moan of approval.

It was a slow and steady kiss. You were in no hurry and wanted to make the most of this rare opportunity.

One of his hands slid to grope your breast and you felt him groan against you lips, breaking contact.

His half-hooded eyes were now on your chest, and as you followed his line of sight, you realised what had caught his attention.

Your shirt was getting soaked with milk.

Damn.

Two round damp spots spread across the fabric that covered each nipple, and you felt instant embarrassment take over. “Sorry… wanted to pump before putting her to bed, but she—”

“Don’t ever apologise for this,” he silenced you at once.

You tried to slide off the couch to fix yourself, but he kept you in place with both hands gripping your waist, pushing you down on him.

“Stay.”

Oh?

“I’ll help.”

Oh.

“Miguel…”

Masterful fingers worked their way down the buttons of your nightgown to reveal your heaving breasts.

You knew that look on his face.

Hunger.

“So full,” he said more to himself, cupping both of them softly.

A few droplets coated both nipples and he brushed the pad of his thumbs along the sensitive skin, earning a jerk from you.

The tingling between your legs emerged in full force from just the sight of him staring at you like he could devour you whole.

He craned his neck just enough to capture one nipple with his lips before latching hungrily.

The overwhelming sensation was enough to have you clinging to his broad shoulders for support. You squeezed your eyes shut and gasped once you felt him sucking gently.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the growing pressure between your legs from his hardening cock.

“Be gentle,” you moaned, caressing his cheek that would rhythmically hollow as he downed your milk.

“Hmmm.”

Then your hand came to his neck and you gently gripped it, feeling his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp.

You stared adoringly at him, slowly grinding into his covered cock. A raw groan reverberated through his throat, and you could tear your eyes away from the sight of the warm liquid pooling in the corner of his mouth.

The latch was just perfect and felt too good.

You brought your hand to caress his face once more, brushing a few strands of his hair away.

“You’re so good…” you moaned.

His cock twitched at your praise, and you could feel the wetness damping his own underwear. Now he was the one leaking for you, his body full on auto-pilot as precum readied him for more.

A couple of droplets began to run down his chin, dripping and drenching his underwear.

“No fangs…”

You’d felt them grazing your skin lightly, but you couldn’t really blame Miguel. His fangs would emerge from either extreme anger or blinding pleasure. A roll from your hips with added pressure was enough to tear his lips from your nipple, head falling back and mouth parting with a raw moan.

He bared both sets of fangs as both hands gripped your waist. Your own mouth dropped open as haziness filled your vision, absolutely revelling in seeing your own milk dripping from his lips and down his muscular neck.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes squeezed shut.

You hurried to collect some of the beads of milk from his skin, but Miguel intercepted you midway, capturing you into a searing kiss. His tongue hurriedly slipped past your lips and you tasted sweetness.

Parting yourself from him, you focused on the grind of your hips and Miguel snapped open his crimson eyes, lust dilating his pupils.

“I’m not… I’m not…” he mumbled incoherently, too lost in his pleasure. “I’m not… lasting…”

You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I’m surprised you lasted this long,” you whispered seductively, pressing a quick kiss to the pulse point on his neck. “So much stamina…”

Miguel was a sucker for praise and it was the easiest and fasted way to get him to crumble.

Your clit rubbed against his covered cock in a steady rhythm as more droplets of milk kept dripping from your nipples. Your eyes roamed along his chest that was glistening as beads of white liquid streamed down.

Suddenly, Miguel pulled you into him, your breasts now squeezed in between you two, more liquid pouring out.

He titled your head and immediately latched his lips against your neck, fangs nearly puncturing the flushed skin.

“You ride me so good,” he murmured hungrily against you.

A moan tangled in your throat and your hips surged to encourage his, ruthlessly intensifying the pleasure. Miguel picked up the speed again and you felt each burst of bliss at every thrust and desperate to feel the next.

Your orgasm was upon you faster than you had expected, the sense of urgency in his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Miguel… Miguel…” you moaned, your panties completely drenched.

“Inside… please…”

Desperate fingers clawed at your underwear, sliding it to the side as the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. He slid inside effortlessly, bottoming up in an instant, and after a moment he gave a harsh cry and shoved himself so deeply and tightly against you that you gasped, clenching hard around him.

Miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck in a failed attempt to muffle his groans.

He kept grinding and rocking against you with stifled grunts, spurting hotly inside.

Only the sounds of your harsh breathing followed, and you sank against him weakly as if drained of all energy.

A familiar waile filled the room, making you wince.

“Shit… were we too loud?” you asked, trying to ease your breathing.

Miguel was still buried deep inside you, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “I’ll go check on her.”

You could tell he reluctantly slid out, easing you on your back. The sudden emptiness made you clench involuntarily, and you felt some of his warm cum spilling

“Keep it in,” he said, pressing your legs together as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

Masterlist

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy

Type: HC’s

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.

Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.

Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.

Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.

Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.

Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.

Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.

Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.

Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.

Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.

Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.

Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.

Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.

Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.

Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.

Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.

Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.

Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 6; ghoap x reader) masterlist

-

Johnny cleans up the lamp in the morning.

He might as well, being on second watch and all. Ghost wakes him up at the ass crack of dawn with a gentle kick to the ribs (gentle for him) before rolling over on the couch and going right to sleep. It’s routine for them to fall into sleep like rocks sinking in water, but the waking up is never quite as graceful. Johnny snorts awake and whips his head around sharply from side to side before confirming that he’s just in his girlfriend’s apartment and the asshole that woke him up is just his ornery lieutenant. 

“I better not hear any fuckin’ jabber,” is all Ghost says before closing his eyes. Johnny chews his lip to keep the grin off of his face.

He tries to keep it down after that. For the first couple of hours, he sits up against the wall and scrolls on his phone. That keeps him occupied until any lingering exhaustion is flushed from his veins.

There’s a broom and dustpan in a small closet in the kitchen where his girl also keeps the garbage bags and compost bin that he uses to sweep up the mess, and he tries to make as little noise as possible while he cleans up. The glass makes a tinkling sound as it’s swept up though, just loud enough that it inevitably wakes his girl up.

She comes creeping out of her room late into the morning, the shop not due to open for another hour or two. The late weekend opening hours mean she usually gets to sleep in. 

Weeks back, it used to be something that Johnny got to do with her as well, cuddled until she’d suddenly pull away, then waking up to her swallowing his cock, peeking under the bedsheets to find her pretty head bobbing up and down his length. Groaning and palming her head to press her lips down to the base, eyes rolling back at the sound of her gagging around his length, the base of his dick a mess of come and drool. 

In the present day though, she clears her throat. Johnny blinks and refocuses on her. 

Her eyes flit to Ghost’s still form on the couch and when they dart back to Johnny, he raises a finger to his lips. Let the man rest. It’s the least Johnny can do for him after he dragged him back to his girl’s place to make amends. She hazards another cautious glance at Ghost—his lieutenant lies still as a statue on the couch, motionless like he isn’t even breathing—before pursing her lips, displeased. 

In the light of day, his previous anger feels cleansed. He understands now. They’ve gone about this all wrong, topsy-turvy. He’s been chasing his own tail and making a mess of things for far too long now, but Ghost’s voice is clear in his head now. It settles him.  

So when his girl goes to open her mouth, maybe thinking that she can whisper softly enough so as not to wake Ghost up, he steps forward quickly and covers her mouth. 

She squawks behind his hand. Again, he shakes his head. Any sound would be too loud for the man slumbering on her couch. 

Johnny can feel her swallow behind his palm and it almost makes him salivate. His fingers twitch on her cheeks like he might press them into the soft skin and make her lips pout. 

“Not here,” he murmurs, almost mouthing the words.

He waits until she nods before removing his hand. Then he leaves to go dump the dustpan filled with glass into the trash. 

She corners him in the bathroom after that and it’s all he can do not to come in his pants. It’s not his fault he’s been trigger happy since Ghost tugged them off on the sparring mats and came on his stomach; he’s been pent up since the last time he saw her. There’s still flakes of dried come on his belly. He only half resists lifting his shirt to look. If his girl knew, she’d be mortified. 

He wonders if she’d be more upset that he let Ghost beat off on him or that he didn’t clean up his mess. 

Johnny lets the bird guide him to the toilet, letting her shove him down onto the lid.

“Ah, hen, ye really wanna do this now?” he teases, spreading his legs and wrapping his hands around her waist to reel her in, slipping up her shirt at the same time. 

He almost moans when she slaps him across the face, biting his lip when she gasps right after, surprised at her own actions. “Oh—fuck—I’m so sorry—”

He clicks his tongue, lips curling up into an impish grin. “Dinnae worry, baby. ‘M tougher than I look.”

It’s a small mercy that she’s too agitated to really look him over because if she were to direct her gaze even slightly south, she’d find Johnny’s shaft straining against his fly, hard enough to pound nails the second her hand touched his face. He swallows a groan and his fingers tighten, sinking deeper into her flesh. 

“I didn’t mean to—Jesus, it doesn’t matter.” He loves that when she gets frustrated, her bottom lip juts out. It makes him want to sink his teeth into it. “When your…boss or whatever…wakes up, can you please take him and leave?”

“Leave?” Johnny repeats, blinking up at her innocently. 

“Yes. Leave,” she says, stressing the word. He hums and strokes his thumb over the soft skin of her stomach, pleased that she hasn’t yet told him to take his hands off her. Sweet little bird. “We kissed and made up. That’s what you came for, right? So the two of you can get going once he wakes up.”

“No breakfast?” 

She looks distinctly unimpressed. “There’s a coffee shop down the block.”

“Aye, I ken, baby,” Johnny croons, pulling her in closer, smiling when she squeaks and braces her hands on his shoulders, his face almost cradled between her breasts. He turns his head to kiss one, mouth lingering over the cotton of her shirt, tempted almost to bite and rip it. “It’s jus’ that…seems an awful like the second Simon and I take off, you’re jus’ gonna go right back to cold shouldering me. Sure you’re nae jus’ putting on a little show for me now?”

Her fingers grip him by the fabric of his shirt. “Johnny—” She yelps when he bites the inside of her breast, snarling when she tries to pull away. “Okay, okay, okay, I got it—”

“That’s right,” he says with a content sigh, pulling back just the slightest bit. “You’re nae going anywhere. Not until we’ve talked this out, nice and civil.”

When she stares down at him, wide-eyed, like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing, it’s a rush like he’s never experienced. He feels right in the flow of things now, his head on straight for once. 

“What’s there to talk about?” she mumbles, and he almost melts. “I’m not mad anymore.”

“Nae mad? Then why’re ye trying to kick us out?”

“Because I’m busy, Johnny,” she snaps. “The shop’s opening in an hour and I don’t have time to babysit the two of you.”

“Ye willnae even notice we’re here, hen, I promise. Fuck, I’ll even help ye out—make some deliveries, go shake anyone down that still owes ye—”

“I don’t shake down my customers, Johnny—”

“Whatever ye need, baby.” He drags his palms up her sides, pulling up her shirt with his hands. Her tits pop out like ripe fruit dangling in front of his mouth, puffy nipples begging to be sucked on. “Simon and I will be right here. Ye can use us however ye want.”

He stares at her nipple while saying that, unconsciously leaning forward until his lips graze her skin and his tongue pokes out. She doesn’t budge, just curses under her breath and lets him rub his tongue over her beaded nipple, shaking in his hold. Johnny bets if he pulled down those little sleep shorts of hers, he’d find a wet little cunt begging for a fat cock to fill her up. 

It’d take nothing for him to pull them down and give her what she’s asking for. The love of his life is tucked away beneath a layer of flimsy cotton and begging for him to give her some love and affection. Johnny hasn’t kissed her in God knows how long—a week? Two? He’d probably find her swollen and aching beneath her shorts; could get her to come just by dragging two fingers up the seam of her. 

He knows what Ghost would say though, so he drags his teeth over her nipple just for the pleasure of feeling her flinch and then pulls back. The bird blinks down at him with hazy eyes when he helps readjust her shirt, pulling it back down to cover her gorgeous tits, a damp spot on her shirt over the nipple he just had in his mouth. 

“We’re not going to…?” she asks, letting the question dangle in midair. She says it without thinking—clearly, because the second it dawns on her that she just asked if they were going to fuck in the bathroom with Johnny sitting on the toilet, she looks horrified with herself. It’s beyond endearing. 

“No’ with Simon in the other room, baby. Wouldnae be fair for him to have to listen in.”

He doesn’t tell her that fairness in this case doesn’t mean cruel. It means that it wouldn’t be possible. 

Still, he needs to shoo her out of the bathroom to tug one out into the toilet bowl. Johnny would be half tempted to jerk off onto her mirror just to leave his mark where she could see, but he has some manners. 

He gives himself a nice, leisurely tug with the help of his girl’s expensive hand lotion. It’s not as viscous as the lube in the gallon tub on his nightstand back at the barracks, but it’s a good substitute; makes his hand glide nicely over his shaft.  If he closes his eyes, it even smells like her, like it’s his girl giving him a morning reach around, and part of Johnny wonders whether he was too quick to kick her out of the bathroom. Ghost wouldn’t begrudge him a quick and dirty jerk.

The thought dissolves the longer his hand flies over his dick though. Hard to think about anything outside the present moment when his hand is braced against the wall and his orgasm barrelling towards him. When he comes, it’s with a deep, shuddering grunt, not even bothering to muffle the sound. He hopes his girl hears him from the other room. He hopes it makes her squirm and ache. 

When he comes out of the bathroom, another voice takes him by surprise.

“Johnny. You’re on breakfast.”

Ghost’s voice is gruff in the early morning hours, abrupt. Rarely could it be classified as gentle, but it’s like chert rattling in a leather bag after hours of disuse. Especially since it comes out of nowhere, the man asleep one moment and awake the next. Johnny’s worked with him long enough to not flinch at the sudden sound of his voice, but his girl hasn’t; she yelps when his voice comes unbidden from the couch, big body suddenly upright like he’s been awake the whole time. 

He’s no cook, but Johnny can rustle up eggs and bacon like any other self-respecting serviceman. On deployment, they used to rotate cooking duty every night, no one skilled enough to take over the post permanently. Still, Johnny eyes Ghost worriedly when he takes a seat across from the bird at her little kitchen table. It’s not a table meant for two grown men, just a small wooden thing with four chairs, only enough for one on each side. It means that Ghost’s knees knock against hers when he takes the chair across from her, forcing her to curl up into herself, tucking her legs under the chair. 

He stares her down. Menacing eyes. Not the kind of man you want sitting across from you, no matter the circumstances. It makes Johnny anxious to turn his back on them when he has to crack the eggs into the pan, checking over his shoulder religiously. The whites go crispy at the edges before he remembers to flip them over.

“You work downstairs in the flower shop,” Ghost says bluntly, breaking the silence. His first words to Bird all morning. Not a question.

“…Yes,” Bird answers gingerly. Her palms are clamped over her knees, sweating likely. “I own it.”

“Since when?” He doesn’t blink before firing off another question.

“Um…two years.”

“Where’d you work before?”

“In…in London. I was a shopgirl there though—”

“Where’s your family from then?”

It goes on that way for a time, an interrogation with no rhyme or reason. Even Johnny has to wonder at Ghost’s intentions—knows that there’s no shot that Ghost hasn’t already done a background check on her. Why interrogate the bird then? Why rattle off question after question in such quick succession? Why make her tremble and look down at the tabletop and stutter out her answers and fidget under his stare—

He notices Ghost’s hand slip beneath the table to grip his length, spreading his legs to help readjust.

Ah. Mean bastard. Of course he’d get off on making her squirm.

The bacon burns. Johnny can’t help it. He listens attentively to her clear voice—softer in the morning hours, still sleep-laden and flowery—whispering out her life’s story, dick getting hard behind the kitchen island. He bites his lip to hold back a moan when she trips over her words. Thrusts forward to rub his bulge against the underside of the island when she chews on her lip, relieving some of the pressure. It drives him mad that there’s a wet cunt going unsatisfied just a few feet away. 

Ghost shoots him a sharp look as if he can hear his thoughts. “Johnny.”

He turns around to flip the burner off.

[deebris]

The Mysterious Visitor 2

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: The unknown child evokes conflicting feelings in Bruce Wayne, who once again finds himself needing to deal with Talia's life problems. The girl only wanted the simple desire to see her brother again, unaware of the danger she had put herself into on her journey.

Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad; Bruce is intimidating; Hugo Strange mentioned.

Word count: 2.8k

Note: I feel like maybe I could have developed a more emotional scene between Bruce and the reader, I also want to delve deeper into her thought process, but I hope to make up for that in the next part.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Alfred could finally check the exact time now that he was standing in front of Bruce's room, admiring for a few seconds the clock in the corridor's decoration, which showed 4:17 am. He prepared to knock on the door, but suddenly a thought crossed his mind: would it be more rational to wake Damian instead of his father? Throughout his life, he had faced unusual situations thanks to the Wayne family; hardly anything would shake him now. His concern, however, was not for himself, but for Bruce.

Talia was a persistent shadow in Bruce's past, still haunting him, and although he had tried to convince the butler many times that the only link he had with her now was because of their son, Alfred still doubted it. Their relationship had been complicated in many ways, either because of her ambiguous nature or Ra’s al Ghul's insistence on trying to persuade Bruce to join the League of Assassins, making Alfred fear that Bruce's morals might deviate because of this passion at the time.

Alfred raised his fist to knock three times and waited patiently as was his custom, but it seemed that was not enough to wake his master. He knew the door was open and knew he was allowed to enter without knocking, so just this once he used the liberty the young man had given him over the years; because in the end, Bruce Wayne was just that, a young man, and would always be seen that way by him.

Inside the room, he turned on the light, and the intense glare made him close his eyes to avoid the sting of the brightness. Approaching the bed, he sighed at the sight of Zolpidem pills left on the nightstand. This had been the only way Bruce found to stop spending sleepless nights, reluctantly since he was too stubborn and preferred to patrol in the darkness. Waking him would be a difficult task.

"Master Bruce," he called, waiting for a response, but got nothing. Alfred felt sorry for waking him, seeing how he finally seemed to be resting. "Master Bruce," he called again, this time nudging his shoulder. The pills must have been wearing off because he started to stir on the mattress.

"What’s going on, Alfred?" Bruce asked in a hoarse voice while rubbing his eyes to relieve the discomfort from the lamp. He sat up in bed, leaning his back against the headboard, blinking several times to see the butler in the corner. One of the room's curtains was open, and he saw the snow falling outside with the dark sky, showing that it was still night. "Is it Hugo Strange? Has he shown up somewhere?"

"Unfortunately, or fortunately, no, sir." Alfred paused, then licked his lips, preparing to continue and finally revealing, "There's a young lady downstairs who claims to be Master Damian’s sister." Direct, as always.

"Sister of Damian?" Bruce repeated the information, still not fully comprehending its meaning. He needed some time, just standing there absorbing the words. It seemed to be taking an eternity, but Alfred wouldn't interrupt the moment of clarity he was having.

He squinted, pushed the covers aside, and picked up the shirt he found nearby. Buttoning it up and getting out of bed, he continued, "When did this happen?"

"Just now, sir."

"Did Damian bring her here?" The question had a bitter tone but never crossed the line of respect that was drawn between them, and Alfred knew he should prepare for his interrogation. Bruce saw the alarm clock and, like the butler a few minutes ago, checked the time. "He never mentioned anything like this."

"Nor to me." Alfred suddenly extended a coat for him to take. Bruce held the fabric between his fingers, confused. "This coat is hers. There’s a map of Gotham City and a letter inside. I recommend you take a look at the addressee."

Pulling the papers from the right pocket, Bruce noticed a map folded into many smaller parts and a letter witch was still sealed, though the corners were noticeably crumpled and marked by small fingers. Carefully analyzing the cursive handwriting, he read. "I had no idea Damian still had contact with his mother. Much less that Talia had a daughter," he said, still drowsy, staring at the name 'Talia Head,' to whom the letter was addressed and recognizing his son’s elegant handwriting. Apparently, she still used the alias surname.

"It's not surprising considering you only discovered your son after so many years." The statement could have easily been interpreted as irony, but it was acidic. "She didn’t seem sure Damian lived here; I suppose she found out because of this letter."

"You left her alone downstairs?" he ignored the previous comment.

"I left her in Master Dick's care."

Bruce stared at him for long seconds and hurried out of the room. Halfway down the stairs, he could already see some glimpses of Dick's hair over the back of the sofa, talking to someone, or rather, laughing with someone.

"Dick?" The voice quickly caught his attention, turning his face to see his father approaching. When Bruce stood in front of the fireplace, he could finally look at the child beside the boy. Dick began to say something, but Bruce couldn’t hear. 

He stared at the girl, analyzing everything about her, from the way she intertwined her fingers nervously to her deer-like eyes. Her iris were shining, as if she had cried, and her swollen and bruised lips were quite noticeable. She had definitely been outside not long ago, shaking and rubbing her hands together constantly to warm herself up. She seemed too sweet, but Bruce knows that appearances can be deceiving.

His gaze passed over the pendants hanging from her bracelet, a simple detail that caught him off guard. Two crossed swords and a demonic head, he understood well what they meant; they were some of the symbols of the League of Assassins, the third was a simple "T" surrounded by a moon. He shouldn’t have been surprised, Talia was a possessive woman and he knew that the "T" was her way of marking property.

"Her name is Y/n," he heard Dick say after a long time.

You noticed how this man's eyes went dark while he watched you and couldn’t help but shrink back on the sofa. It was impossible to hold his gaze, and you began to feel ashamed of being stared at for so long.

"Y/n, this is Bruce Wayne."

"What do you want?" That came out ruder than he intended, but his aversion to the League of Assassins stirred a certain anger. The idea that this could all be a trap crossed his mind. You might be young and exude innocence, but you must have enough understanding to participate in their malicious plans.

"I just wanted to see my brother," you said with sadness in your voice, questioning yourself if this whole situation was worth it. Bruce knew the best way to confirm if this was all true would be by his son’s word, but the signs were so explicit that it might not even be necessary.

You don’t look anything like her, at least at first glance, but you wore her favorite colors and clothes so perfectly matched that no girl your age could choose yet, exactly to Talia's taste and with the appropriate youthful touch for your age. The pendants, the cut of your hair, literally everything had her touch. It was impossible for anyone to convince him otherwise.

"Go get Damian." He said, and Dick understood that the message was for him. Bruce needed to make sure you were telling the truth, or at least needed to make sure you weren’t dangerous. This could still be a League scheme or some plot by your mother.

"Can I see him?" Your voice was the loudest you had spoken that night. The excitement was clear, and it was so much that irrationally you stood up to follow Dick, but a calloused hand suddenly wrapped around your torso and stopped you, making your back hit a slightly prominent belly. You looked up and saw the old man again, his expression was not happy, and you realized it was directed at Mr. Wayne, who had an arm extended towards you but that never managed to touch you.

Like his face, his arm was tense, with visible veins and contracted tendons. You didn't know what his intentions were, but by the way the old man grabbed you to prevent him from laying hands on you, maybe he wasn't as good as he or Dick. It was a very scary sight., making you feel that this man could be dangerous. Trusting the old man, you turned to hug him, hiding as much as possible. Mr. Wayne’s aura was dark, very unfriendly, but you still saw how he recoiled with his face displaying a certain sense of regret.

Dick noticed Alfred's sudden movement behind him before he could leave the room. He glanced at their faces and for a moment considered whether it would be appropriate to turn back and mention the conversation he had with you to the butler in secret, but then his eyebrows furrowed thinking of Damian. Maybe he should confront the little demon first.

"Don’t do anything stupid, Bruce." Dick thought.

Frantically he knocked on the boy’s door. One, two, three, four times until he lost count. At no point did he hear any noise inside, so he began to turn the doorknob, only to find it was locked.

"Of course he’d lock it, that brat..."

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Tim's bedroom door behind him opened abruptly, making a sliver of light from inside illuminate the opposite wall. He was obviously irritated at being woken up but still had that tone of seriousness he carried most of the time.

"Where's his room key?" Dick completely ignored his brother's attitude.

"Forget it. I heard him sneak out to patrol again." Tim's voice sounded tired.

"And you let him?!" Dick snapped but reminded himself to contain it, remembering that Jason was sleeping in one of the rooms in that wing and that you three downstairs might hear the commotion. "Why didn’t you stop him?"

"And what good would it do? That boy is too stubborn." Tim tried to defend himself. "Besides, I have his location right here. He’ll be fine." He opened the door a bit more to show one of his computer monitors tracking the trajectory and heart signals of a green dot on the streets of Gotham City.

Dick looked both ways down the hallway before pushing Tim back into his room and closing the door.

"Hey, what's this? Why are you acting so weird?" Tim was startled by Dick's unusual behavior, feeling anxious as he watched him go to the computer to check Damian's exact location, observing the dot on the screen moving. Dick pressed a button, likely an emergency notification to get Damian to return home. Then he turned to Tim, gripping his shoulders and looking at him with intense seriousness.

"Tim, what I'm about to tell you might be a lot to take in, and I need you to try to understand as much as possible." Dick pointed a finger in his face, waiting for confirmation.

"You're scaring me like this. What the hell happened?"

"No questions and no interruptions! Understood?" Dick's tone was authoritative, stepping back only when he saw Tim nodding affirmatively.

"Why the hell is everyone awake downstairs? Did someone die or something?" Jason barged into Tim's room without ceremony, trying to make a joke, but when he saw the ghostly expressions on their faces, he quickly shut the door again, this time with him inside the room. "My God," he exclaimed in shock. "Can I join in on your little secret?" he asked ironically.

"Did you see the girl?" Dick asked Jason nervously, with a certain expectation.

"Yeah. I saw a girl with Bruce and Alfred. But they didn't see me, since I went back upstairs. The mood down there is pretty tense." Jason threw himself on the bed, making the mattress bounce and Tim frown in displeasure. "I think Alfred is going to give him a lecture afterwards."

"She's Bruce's daughter."

Jason propped himself up on his elbows, and Tim had to sit in the computer chair. His mouth formed a perfect 'O' as he struggled to believe Dick's words.

"With who this time?" Jason seemed to be reacting better than Tim to the news, even letting out a light laugh. It was a typical, caustic Jason response.

"That's not all." Dick ignored his comment. "She said she's Damian's twin."

Tim let out a short whistle, processing the idea like a complex calculation. "Tell this story from the beginning, Dick. Why did she show up now?" He finally managed to rejoin the conversation. It took a while for the shock to pass, but now he had his usual rational demeanor.

Dick rubbed his hands over his face, trying to recount the night and organize the information. "Apparently, she doesn't even know Bruce is her father. And he doesn't know about it either."

"Damian also never mentioned having a sister."

"Damn. Hiding one kid for a decade is something, but two?" Jason stared at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, a strange sensation taking over the room. But seeing the melancholic expression on Dick's face, his curiosity grew even more. "What else do you know, huh Dick?" He questioned him, sensing there was something much deeper behind this, and his brother just gave him an enigmatic look.

"She said she came here to see Damian. That she found out where he was because of a letter he wrote to Talia..." Dick suddenly froze, pulling a little box from his pocket as if it were a dangerous bomb. "While we were talking, she said a man had helped her get here. He gave her a map and asked her to deliver a present to Bruce, but she gave it to me to deliver." He handed the beige little box to the two, but it was Tim who took it.

Whatever it was, it was very well wrapped.

"Is it right to open it?" Tim asked. "I mean, it's for Bruce, isn't it?"

"I already opened it." Dick said bluntly. "I thought it might be a trap, I was careful."

"Give it here." Jason took the small box from Tim's hands. It was the same size as an engagement ring box, perfect for carrying in a pocket. He pulled the lid off and took out a card, freezing when he read it.

"What does it say?" Tim was curious, taking the card from his hands and reading it out loud:

'I sent your daughter home as a demonstration of my benevolence. Merry Christmas, Batman. Signed, H.S.’

"Holy shit," Jason exclaimed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "That bastard figured out Batman's identity."

"Even worse: he knew about her before we did." Tim added reflectively, his voice barely a whisper. "That means he knows much more than just Batman's identity. He might know other things, including our identities. He probably suspects we are also vigilantes."

"I want to hear the whole story properly." Jason's intensely serious voice broke the silence that had settled in the room, determined to fully understand the appearance of this girl and how she got involved with Hugo Strange.

Dick took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Alright, here it is. Minutes ago, Alfred and I woke up because a girl showed up at the manor claiming to be Damian's sister. She told me that she had a map of Gotham and a letter addressed to Talia from Damian. Alfred brought Bruce to her, and then I went upstairs to call Damian, but I discovered that he's out on patrol. And now we're here."

Tim interrupted, "Wait, so Damian's been in contact with Talia and didn't tell us?"

"That's what it seems like," Dick confirmed, rubbing his temples. "The girl didn't even know Bruce was her father. She mentioned that a man helped her get here and gave her a map along with a present for Bruce."

Jason leaned forward even more. "And this man was Hugo Strange."

"Not xactly, he could have sent someone else." Dick nodded. "The present was that card. Strange knows about her and about Bruce being Batman. He sent her here as some twisted gift."

Tim, processing the information, asked, "Did she say anything about why Strange would do this? What does he gain from sending her here?"

"She didn't seem to know much about Strange's intentions," Dick replied. "She just wanted to see Damian. But it’s clear that Strange knows a lot more than he's letting on. He must have some larger plan in mind."

Jason clenched his fists, his anger palpable. "So, this girl is just a pawn in his game. We need to figure out what his endgame is."

"Agreed," Dick said. "But first, we need to make sure she's safe and find out everything she knows. We also need to talk to Damian and see what tell us about all this."

Tim nodded, adding, "And we have to stay vigilant. If Strange knows this much, we can't underestimate him. He could have more moves planned."

Jason stood up, his determination evident. "We need to get to the bottom of this before anyone gets hurt."

"But what about Talia? Did she just let her daughter go out there, be deceived by a stranger, and then simply come here?" Tim pointed out. "And you, Dick? Are you going to tell Bruce?"

Suddenly, the sound of someone tapping on the window glass was heard. The three brothers turned their heads to see Damian, clad in his Robin attire, asking to come in. "Open up already, you idiots."

Tag list:

@lafrone @sylum @mileskisser @belowbreadcrumbs @riddle-me-im-sirius

@rafa-the-beautiful @shehrazadekey @fairuzwhat @bedeater @arianapjs

@idonthaveanameforthisacc @azulawayne @nciolisa @lovelywritersgarden

@spideybv28 @faimmm @formula-space @cherry-peach-flavored

🍒

@nebuluma

Credits for the divider: @cafekitsune

[luffington]

fur & feathers ♡

✧.* art credit!

➤ summary: You tried your hardest to stay out of their way this time. Unsurprisingly, you ended up sandwiched between them instead. (18+)

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader x donquixote doflamingo, crocodile x doflamingo

➤ word count: 4.2k

➤ warnings: sub!reader, mean dom!croc & meaner dom!doffy, double penetration, anal sex, size kink, belly bulge, oral (m receiving), creampie, breeding kink, degradation, objectification, power play, she/her & 'girl' used

➤ notes: purely self-indulgent filth..... i am not seeing heaven's gates

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Being Sir Crocodile’s personal secretary obviously had its benefits. Traveling to all sorts of conferences alongside him, meeting important and influential people, and always feeling protected. You lived a more lavish life than the vast majority of Alabastans, and all it took was looking the other way when documents with a winged Jolly Roger appeared on his desk. But it had some major downfalls, too, like putting up with whatever the hell was going on between your boss and that blonde feathery freak. 

You tried your hardest to stay out of their way this time. Unsurprisingly, you ended up sandwiched between them instead. 

Fragrant and flashy perfume clashed with the thick and heady scent of an expensive cigar, overwhelming your senses and making you dizzy. Crocodile’s lengthy cock was buried deep in your throat. You choked and sputtered around it, trying your hardest to use your mouth well and please your boss. Doflamingo’s harsh thrusts into your pussy from behind were making it difficult.

Your wrists had long lost their strength to support you, so you were positioned on your knees and elbows. The dark-haired man comfortably reclined on a stack of plush pillows, his ring-covered hand resting on the crown of your head. Doflamingo gripped your hips hard and repeatedly slammed his enormous dick inside you, practically penetrating your womb. You didn’t have to see him to know that he was maniacally grinning. 

You were fully naked and on display for the two men (to be fair, the blonde was already half-naked when he entered the room). Their perfectly sculpted and scarred bodies were also completely bare, but somehow they both still had their coats on. You would have laughed at the absurdity if it didn’t remind you of their high status and how far below them you were. Or maybe it just was an unspoken challenge between them – first one to take theirs off loses.

They had already made you cum three times before they even got their dicks out. Under the guise of being a gracious host, Crocodile had allowed Doflamingo the honor of your first orgasm of the night. He had made you straddle his thigh and get yourself off by rubbing your bare cunt on his leather pants, bouncing his leg up and down and cackling sadistically at your humiliated expression. Then Crocodile had eaten you out as the other man fondled your tits, and then Doflamingo had strung you up until you couldn’t move an inch while they worked together to torture your pussy. They were each menaces on their own, but somehow sharing your body like this didn’t make their egos clash – they cooperated. It was only a matter of time until they figured out something kinky to do with Crocodile’s sand powers, and then you’d be truly fucked.

You were losing yourself in the salty taste of Crocodile’s cock, the thickness of it stretching your mouth almost painfully while your nose repeatedly brushed against his neatly groomed pubes. Slowly forcing your head up and down, never giving you more than a second to breathe. He was barely sweating, looking down at you with cold eyes as he puffed at the cigar hanging from his lips. A direct contrast to Doflamingo bullying your poor cunt and shoving your body forwards onto the other man’s lap with every thrust. 

A dry finger suddenly prodded at your asshole, causing you to choke around your boss’s cock. Crocodile clicked his tongue. “Two holes at once? You’re being greedy, Doffy.” His words were teasing, a wicked smirk on his scarred face while he continued ignoring your obvious protests. 

“You get to use her whenever you want. I think that’s pretty greedy.” The blonde frowned, continuing to insistently circle his fingertip around your rim. “Besides, I’m trying to do something nice for you. You can have her pussy, so I’ll take her ass.”

The dark-haired man exhaled a cloud of smoke. Without his hand holding you down, you pulled off of his dick with a lewd wet noise and spun your head to face Doflamingo. “W-wait… both… at the, ahh, same ti-ime…?” Your muddled mind tried to express your fear, knowing full well that neither of them would care. “C-can’t fit…”

“You don’t know that until you try,” Doflamingo replied with a twisted grin. Actually, he wasn’t sure why the three of you hadn’t tried it yet. Perhaps it had something to do with your size difference. Both men were unnaturally tall – the blonde often made fun of Crocodile for only being 8’4 – and their cocks were more than proportional. Each was longer than your forearm and practically matched the thickness. Your stomach felt close to bursting from just one. 

Looking to your boss for help, you silently pleaded for some hint of kindness inside the man. His cold glare and cruel smile granted you none.

At first, you had assumed Crocodile was the nicer of the two, that he felt some kind of sympathy and held regard for human life. You quickly realized in horror that they were two sides of the same sadistic coin. The same need for dominance, longing for powerful positions, and lack of hesitation to step on anyone below them for their own benefit. Sure, Doflamingo used his strings very inappropriately in the bedroom. But Crocodile had never taken off his hook during sex, resulting in a few ‘accidental’ fading cuts on your back and thighs. Doflamingo was very open about his madness, while the other kept it neatly buttoned up under silk dress shirts.

“Don’t worry,” Crocodile rubbed your cheek, feigning gentleness, before saying, “We’ll make them fit.”

You gulped, feeling very much like prey caught in a fatal trap.

Doflamingo stopped his thrusts with his cock deep inside you and sucked his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth, coating them with enough spit to not rip your hole. He would never be generous enough to use actual lube. 

He snickered when he caught Crocodile watching his movements and swirled his tongue teasingly around his digits. “Enjoying the view, baby?”

“I’m enjoying a break from that ridiculous smile of yours.” The other man replied smoothly. “Maybe I’ll use my fingers to shut you up the next time you say something irritating.”

“Your fingers are too rough,” the blonde pouted and shoved a long finger inside your asshole in one go, making you cry out and clench your fists. Neither man acknowledged your pained reaction, though you felt Doflamingo’s cock twitch excitedly inside you. “My mouth feels all sandy afterwards.”

Crocodile smirked to himself — he controlled every grain of sand in his body, so any bits left behind in Doflamingo’s mouth (or in his clothes, or the crevices of his body) was intentional. His gaze flickered down to you, grasping the base of his cock and timidly licking at his tip. “You can do better than that, slut.” You instantly swallowed it halfway, not daring to upset your boss.

The dark haired man let out a content sigh as he watched the beautiful scene in front of him. Your back glistened with a thin sheen of sweat and a giant red Doffy-shaped handprint still burned on your ass. The blonde’s pace had slowed down slightly so he could focus on preparing your asshole with no gentleness whatsoever. He used two digits to spread your hole wide, then spat directly inside it. You whimpered at the filthy feeling, sending pleasant vibrations through Crocodile’s cock. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Doflamingo swore, watching his saliva disappear inside you. “What a good little whore.” You unconsciously wiggled your hips at his praise. 

The more he pushed and prodded deep inside you, the harder it was to focus on pleasuring the cock in your mouth. Wordlessly, Crocodile placed his hook on the back of your neck, the sharp edge dangerously close to your throat. The message was clear – you immediately got to work, cheeks hollowing and sloppily drooling around his dick. 

Doflamingo nodded his chin at the heavy gold object. “You ever finger anyone with that glorified fish hook?” 

Your entire body went cold. Hopefully that wasn’t a suggestion.

“No, but you can be the first to try it out.” 

“Aww, Croc, you’re making me blush.” He didn’t seem even a tiny bit flustered.

Ignoring you was part of their sick game. Making you feel so incredibly small and unimportant. Nothing but a fleshlight for two of the most powerful men in the world to share while they bickered among themselves. 

Trying to regain their focus, you clenched your holes and moaned loudly. “Shh, darling,” Crocodile cooed mockingly. “The adults are talking.”

You hated how much that humiliation turned you on and made your core ache with need. 

“Well, she seems about ready.” Doflamingo chuckled, unceremoniously pulling out of your swollen pussy, his cock angry and red and shining with your juices. You fought to keep your lower half from collapsing to the bed. “How do you wanna do this?”

You looked up at Crocodile questioningly, not daring to take his dick out of your mouth yet. Your boss gently tugged at your hair and you raised your head, coughing and sputtering for air. You suddenly felt a shameful sense of emptiness – you missed having your holes stuffed full.

He stroked the back of your head as if you were his pet. “Any ideas, doll?”

It was the first time all night that they asked for your opinion, that you weren’t passively taking every bit of pleasure and pain that they graciously gave you. You gulped nervously, looking between both men. Doflamingo seemed especially excited to hear you pick your poison. 

“M-maybe… I could… sit in your laps?” You replied timidly, unsure if your input even mattered. 

“Is that a question or an answer?” Crocodile raised an eyebrow.

As calm and collected as both men seemed, you could tell they were growing impatient. Their cocks dripped precum and subtly twitched with need. You were desperate for stimulation, too, so you steeled your hazy mind and nodded resolutely. “I want to sit in your laps. Feel you both so deep inside me. I… I might go crazy if you don’t fuck me.” You turned to Doflamingo, batted your eyes innocently, and added, “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

The blonde threw his head back and moaned exaggeratedly. “Fuck, baby, you’re straight out of my wet dreams. Why don’t you visit Dressrosa sometime?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Crocodile gave the man a hard glare, helping your shaky body into a sitting position. “She’s mine. The best secretary I’ve had in years.”

Doflamingo cackled. “I forgot she’s your fucking employee! There’s no way you two actually get any work done. I bet I can open any file cabinet in your office and find cum stains on those papers.”

“Open anything in my office and I’ll throw you in my Sea Prism Stone cell.”

You rolled your eyes as you maneuvered yourself into Crocodile’s lap, using his shoulders for support as you straddled his slightly spread thighs. Their twisted flirting was seemingly endless. Couldn’t they have picked a better time?

“Don’t get bratty, darling,” he snickered and quickly slapped your breast, making you yelp in surprise. “Unless you can’t survive another minute without our dicks inside you.”

You nodded and bit your lip, feeling your juices trickle out of your hole and drop down your leg. “Please, sir, I need you. Need you both.” Crocodile hummed in satisfaction – he had trained you so well. He pressed an intoxicating open-mouthed kiss to your jaw and simultaneously twisted your nipple. 

“Starting without me isn’t fair.” Doflamingo grumbled petulantly as he shuffled into place behind you. It took a few tries until he found a way to comfortably tangle his hairy legs around Crocodile’s, their pelvises almost pressed together and his massive cock smacking against your spine. The blonde bit your earlobe and laughed when you flinched.

Your fists clenched onto Crocodile’s smooth fur jacket, breasts flush against his muscular pecs, while soft and wispy feathers grazed your back and sent ticklish shivers down your spine. The air felt electric with anticipation and excitement and pure unadulterated lust. Your body might hate you the next morning for this — no, you’d feel the aftermath of their desire for at least a few days. But at that moment, you needed your holes stuffed full more than you needed oxygen. 

With a shaky breath, you stood on your knees, their long cocks still barely fitting underneath you. Doflamingo tapped the crown of his dick against your rim before holding it steady. They waited with bated breath for you to sink down.

Two Warlords were inside you.

You felt like your body was ripping in half. And yet the pain made you even wetter, a debauched moan spilling from your lips and eyes rolling back into your skull. Both men simultaneously groaned in satisfaction, an angelic choir of devils singing your praise. Being on top gave you a refreshing sense of control… one that didn’t last very long.

Crocodile’s hand settled on your hip to gently coax you down, while Doflamingo pressed hard on your shoulders. When it was finally too much and your body refused to take any more – not even halfway down their massive lengths – tight strings wound around your thighs and forced you down the rest of the way. You cried out in anguish, speared on their massive cocks.

Thankfully, the two men let you adjust once you had their entire lengths inside you and rested in their laps. You shuddered in their hold, trying your best to calm your rapid heartbeat. Perhaps there was a hint of kindness in their decision, but it was more likely for their own benefit. A broken toy was no fun to play with and they weren’t even close to being done with you. 

Crocodile reclined against the bed’s headboard and let out a low whistle. “Fuck,” he swore in a gravelly voice, eyes half-lidded and seemingly hypnotized. “You are so fucking full.” 

You looked down in perverted fascination to see your stomach bulging unnaturally, almost making you appear pregnant. He ran his hand over the well-defined outline of his cock and you felt it twitch inside you excitedly.

“What? No fair, you’re hogging the view. Let me see.” Doflamingo pouted, leaning over your shoulder. He giggled ferociously at the sight. “Oh, that’s sexy as hell.” The hand that wasn’t manipulating his strings joined Crocodile’s to rub over your bulging belly, applying pressure to your womb and making you keen. “That feels good, huh? You like when we force our way inside your tight little holes and rearrange your guts?”

Your face burned red at his filthy words but you nodded rapidly. Your boss frowned and pinched your clit, causing wetness to pool in your eyes. “I thought I taught you to use your words.”

“Y-Yes, sir, I love it.” Doflamingo’s long tongue snaked out to lap away the single teardrop running down your cheek. 

“So obedient.” He nuzzled into your neck almost affectionately. “So good for us.”

Moments like this made you question what your relationship with them was. Sure, you were definitely more of a prized possession than a romantic partner, but maybe you possessed them in a different way. You would never voice that thought aloud, but it’s what prevented you from quitting your job, getting the hell out of Alabasta, and finding an actual partner and decent life somewhere else. They could have anyone in the world they desired, but Crocodile hadn’t been with anyone besides Doflamingo and you since the first time he fucked you on his office desk, much too horny to try to seduce you back to his bedroom.

And while you didn’t know what the other Warlord got up to in his own kingdom, at the very least, he always came back for more. Doflamingo could tell vicious lies dripping with sugar like no one else, but part of you hoped there was some truth in calling you gorgeous and perfect and his good little whore. 

You knew you were probably deluding yourself, but Doflamingo’s warm mouth sucking marks into your throat and Crocodile’s palm rubbing over your stomach soothingly made your heart ache and veins burn.

“Alright, enough. Let’s get started.” The blonde used his powers to raise your body slowly, revealing their cocks glistening with your juices. 

“No strings,” Crocodile interrupted, but added with a smirk, “Yet. Let her do it herself for now.”

Doflamingo licked his lips and leaned back on his hands leisurely. His strings loosened but didn’t disappear. “Show me what you’ve got, puppet.” 

This was a test. There would be hell to pay if you failed, though you weren’t sure if passing was humanly possible. You continued to rise up at the pace Doflamingo’s strings had set, inch by delicious inch rubbing against your walls until only the tips were inside you. “You’re both so big,” you bit your lip seductively. “I feel so empty without your dicks.”

Then you quickly sank back down to the base, knocking the air out of your lungs. Head flying back to rest on the blonde man’s feather-coated shoulder. Crocodile’s cock kissed your cervix as Doflamingo’s bullied its way inside your asshole deeper than anything was meant to go. 

You repeated the motion again and again, doing your best to clench your holes tight and take their entire lengths every time. 

“This is getting boring,” the blonde rolled his eyes impatiently. A subtle twitch of his fingers forced you onto your knees then slammed you back down to their laps, their balls slapping against your sensitive skin. You were too overwhelmed to even comprehend what happened, but the man continued to manipulate your body at a brutal pace. 

“Much better.” Crocodile agreed, taking in your blank expression and glazed-over eyes. Your mind completely shut off, focused on receiving every bit of carnal pleasure that the two Warlords graciously gave you. You were completely under their control and at their mercy. Your boss cooed at you mockingly. “Poor girl. There’s not a thought in that pretty little head of yours, huh, doll?”

Your silence answered his question so perfectly that he didn’t even punish you for not responding. 

“She fucking loves it. Look at her drool.” Doflamingo grabbed your chin and forced you to face him. He delighted in your debauched expression, tongue lolling out of your mouth, before leaning back and slapping your ass. Your body spasmed around their cocks. 

The blonde used his strings to hold you down as far as possible, admiring the bulge in your stomach again with a sick grin. You hardly noticed it — you hardly noticed anything at this point. Then he ripped Crocodile’s lit cigar from the corner of his mouth and haphazardly threw it across the room. Miraculously, nothing caught on fire. 

“That was expensive.” Crocodile snarled. 

“I don’t care about your fucking tobacco.” Doflamingo grabbed the other man’s slicked-back hair and slammed their lips together in a hungry kiss that was all teeth and tongue. You watched dazedly as they licked at each other’s mouths like feral animals. Matching each other’s intensity and fighting to maintain their dominance. With his free hand, the blonde groped your breast, squeezing it in his large palm before rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The men pulled away, panting heavily from the intense kiss. A thick string of saliva kept their lips connected. Doflamingo broke it by swiping his tongue across Crocodile’s reddened bottom lip. 

“Let’s get her pregnant, Croc. I want her tits swollen with milk so I can suck them dry.” You felt a shiver run through your entire body. What a terrifying, deranged, yet tempting thought. You didn’t dare voice your thoughts, but the blonde still felt your ass clench around his cock. He cackled and roughly tugged at your nipple. “I think our little girl likes that idea.”

Crocodile’s dark eyes turned to you. “Consider yourself lucky that he’s not in your pussy.” As if he was wearing a condom himself. As if he even owned condoms. 

Doflamingo suddenly leaned forward and knocked you down with his weight, causing you and Crocodile to fall like dominos. The dark-haired man was almost flat on his back and you were crushed between their bodies, breasts uncomfortably squished against your boss’s fleshy chest. A cloud of pink feathers suddenly encompassed you, hanging loosely from the blonde’s shoulders and fully caging you in. Now that he was on top, he released the strings from around your thighs. Doflamingo gave a particularly harsh thrust forward and you yelped, the change in angle hitting an extra sensitive part of you. Crocodile’s cock insistently pressed against your g-spot.

The blonde placed his hand softly on Crocodile’s cheek, caressing the sharp line of his jaw. Very out of place, very unlike Doffy. But when he pulled away, a single thin thread followed his fingertip like a spider weaving a web. 

“Get this fucking thing off of me.” The dark-haired man growled, grabbing at where it attached to his jaw in vain. Panic raced through your mind — you didn’t want to literally be in the middle of their fight. But Crocodile didn’t seem truly angry, more annoyed that this happened again. 

“I’ll be nice,” he chuckled menacingly. He slowly moved his pointer finger in a come-hither motion and Crocodile’s hips followed the same upwards path, pushing his cock even further inside you. “See? Just wanted to take the lead.”

Doflamingo immediately resumed his inhuman pace, pistoning in and out and making your ass cheeks jiggle from the impact. One hand mimicked marionette motions as he manipulated Crocodile into mirroring his speed and ferocity, and the other held your hip firmly in place. He perfectly timed their thrusts so they pulled out and pushed in at the same exact time, knocking the air out of your lungs and setting your core on fire.

As godly as both men appeared, they were still very much human and rapidly approaching their orgasms. Your boss’s chest heaved underneath you, eyelids fluttering shut and pink dusting his cheeks. Doflamingo panted like a wild beast, letting out breathy, excited giggles at the sight of his two pretty puppets. A few stray feathers had fallen off his coat which landed in Crocodile’s messy hair and clung to your sticky skin. The overwhelming need to possess and consume both of you made the blonde’s head spin. 

You raised your head from where it was buried in your Crocodile’s chest, now covered in a puddle of your drool. “Please, s-sirs, I need-“ You were interrupted by Doflamingo deftly rubbing your neglected clit in tight circles. You choked on your words, looking at your boss pleadingly. 

“You may cum, darling.” Crocodile offered you a merciful smile. 

Stars flashed before your eyes and you swore you ascended to heaven, every nerve in your body tingling and toes curling tightly as you cried out the names of your saviors, before you came crashing down to earth with an unabashed and sinful drawn-out moan. Moments after that bright white light washed over you, thick white cum exploded in both of your holes as the Warlords cried out simultaneously. Doflamingo kept Crocodile’s hips flush against your body as his heavy balls stuffed you full and only lowered them when he had let out his final spurts. 

“Fuck.” The blonde’s breath caught in his throat as he watched his cum spill out around his length, dripping out of your ass onto Crocodile’s dick underneath. You had never felt so used, so filthy, and fuck did it feel incredible. 

The dark-haired man felt your heart beating rapidly against him and noticed you slowly slip into darkness, your consciousness fading. “Stay with us, doll.” He stroked your hair and ran his rough thumb over your cheek. 

You smiled, dazed and dopey. “Th… thank you…”

“Taking everything we give you and thanking us after… absolutely fucking perfect.” Doflamingo breathed heavily. You wailed from sensitivity as he pulled his cock out of your abused hole and the man beneath you followed suit. More globs of cum dripped out of your pussy and ass and spilled onto Crocodile’s fur coat sprawled out beneath him. Doflamingo giggled in delight. “Better wash that for him tomorrow, little girl.”

“She’s a secretary, not a servant.” Crocodile rolled his eyes, knowing that anyone in a position lower than Doffy’s was interchangeable to him. He swiped two fingers down the cleft of your ass, collecting sticky strings of cum and making your oversensitive body jolt. “But good girls clean up their messes, right?”

You obediently sucked his fingers clean, swirling your tongue around his digits and moaning like a whore at the salty taste of their mixed semen. 

Doflamingo untangled his body from yours and reclined back with a satisfied sigh. “When’s round two?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull, but Crocodile spoke before you could protest — his words held more weight than yours, after all. “That was round four for her. It’s a miracle that your dick hasn’t killed someone yet.”

“Fine, I’ll wait.” He pouted like a spoiled child. “But don’t go soft on me, Croc. You’re the only one who’s fun enough to share toys with.”

Crocodile rolled you off of his chest none too gently, but thankfully, you had a plush blanket and padded mattress to land upon. “If we’re both ready to go, why not do a round without her?” His predatory gaze met yours. “I’m sure she would love to watch.”

[kiyokowastaken]

A Piece Of Heaven.

James Sunderland x Female Reader.

Minors Don't Interact!!!

CW: fingering, overstimulating, p in v (no protection), hair pulling/tugging, blowjob, babying a middle aged, miserable man, dirty talk, OOC James, porn with plot, age gap (reader is in her early twenties while James is in his mid-thirties), tit sucking, creampie, dom!James, oral (male and female receiving and giving, face f*cking, James has a breeding kink.

Summary: After partnering up with James and Maria, you could see the dynamic between them. A beautiful blonde vixen flirting with a miserable and pathetic man in search of his supposedly dead wife. Feeling a bit jealous of the interaction between them, you decided to climb the roof of the hotel to watch whatever of the sky that you can but you’re interrupted by someone.

This isn’t revised so excuse any misspelling or grammar mistakes! I was also inspired by another amazing James Sunderland x Reader writer named sundrlands so check them out!!

Enjoy loves ^^!

The fucking fog.

How come in some areas it’s dense as fuck but now when you need the fog to be dense, it’s not. You saw the blonde haired woman named, Maria latching onto James’s arms as if she couldn’t hold her own. You knew that the male was far too awkward to say anything about it, so he merely just let it be. You looked around the area, it seemed not as rundown and ruined as the other places that you guys have encountered, you caught a glimpse of a flower shop and your interest was piqued to say the least.

You jogged over to the small shop as James was looking down at the map trying to figure out where the hotel was as Maria was merely talking his ear off. You were pleasantly surprised when the flowers looked to be alive, they were still blooming in such a terrible condition. Your fingertips reached out and graced the soft petals of a Lily, the beautiful flower slightly moved by your touch before it got covered by a shadow.

You turned around to see James, which caused you to take a few steps back. His cologne was faint yet lingered around him, he smelled like clean laundry with a hint of a musky yet woody scent, the kinda smell that when you hugged someone you would try and take another whiff, “Uh..I figured out the way to the hotel, we would get there in a couple of more minutes..” The blonde haired man would mumble.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you looked back at the blossomed flower, “You speak as if I’m going to snap back at you.” James merely flushed a bit at your comment as it took him a moment to think about his next choice of words. He always seemed to do that, instead of other people who just spoke their minds without considering what others might say.

James was the opposite, it’s like he handcrafted his response for you, yet he still fell short, “I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked peaceful over here in your own world.” He hummed out as he looked down at the flowers before he reached out and tried to stroke the flower but it seemed that he lacked a certain softness to his touch.

The very Lily that you once caressed so tenderly and gently, lost a petal once James touched it. James seemed a little disheartened as the sad look on his face that he always had seemed a bit more sadder, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched it, it seems like whenever I touch things they always end u-..” You stopped James’s sad monologue as with a bit of confidence, you grabbed his hand with your own and gently moved over to a flower, a budding bushel of Heathers.

You guide his hand and with a gentle brush of both hands, the bushel waves gently before you pulled your hand away with a small smile as you turned to look at the taller male, “Don’t always be pessimistic James, you have a gentleness to you. You just need to be patient, now come on, Maria is waiting for you.” You said with a slight bitter tone that James seemed to catch before his soft yet gruff voice said, “You mean, us, she’s waiting for us.” To which, you merely nodded before walking back with James.

A few minutes turned to a hour and the sweet moment between you and James had seemed to dissipate into thin air. Maria was once again walking side by side with James, their hands occasionally brushed against each other more than they should. At one point, Maria mentioned how cold she was which caused James to pause before he tugged off his military jacket and held it out for her which she graciously took and slipped on. You, in the meanwhile just scoffed, how unbelievable. James was merely being a gentleman and gave the women his jacket, so she wouldn’t freeze to death and here you were acting like it was the worst betrayal of your life. I mean, it stung a bit, you asked James to borrow his jacket during a moment of rest since the room you guys were in was cold to which he merely just got up and went through the hassle of finding a semi-clean blanket and handing it to you.

You merely just looked around at whatever you could in the surrounding scenery as the fog began to slowly disappear. You looked back to see the hotel, it was small but it was near an embankment of water which gave it a nice appeal. You guys got closer and before you guys knew it, you guys separated off into your own rooms. James got the room in the middle while you and Maria got the right and left rooms next to his.

Once, James got his jacket back from Maria, you all settled into your own rooms for the night. It was a delightful surprise when the water still ran through the pipes of this hotel, it was clean water as well. You stripped out of your clothes and turned the warm water on as once your body stepped into the warmth, it melted away any stress that you had away. You guys had battled all sorts of weird ass monsters coming to this hotel, so this was refreshing to say the least. You cleaned off the grim, sweat, and the blood off your body before getting out and changing back into your clothes.

They were a bit dirty but nothing too bad, you then debated into taking a nap or just roaming around the hotel. You guys could probably stock up on whatever you needed to finish this fucked up adventure so without a second thought, you grasped the handle of the door opened it before stepping outside into the fresh night breeze. Silent Hill looked less scary when it was night, the fog almost seemed lifted and the surroundings were now noticeable.

You turned towards James’s door to see him talking with Maria as they both leaned against the iron railing. You squinted a bit and you found yourself a bit shocked to see a small smile on his face, you had more than enough seeing the two of them together so you turned on your heel and walked to the opposite side. You looked through the few rooms that were accessible and grabbed some bandages and couple of food supplies before you found a latter up to the roof of the hotel.

You shrugged before you grabbed ahold of the latter and started to climb your way up to the room. Once on top of the roof, you let out a deep sigh as the air felt fresher up here. The cold wind stung your warm skin and blew through your slightly damp hair before you found yourself sitting on top of the roof. It was comfortable, the concrete of the roof was smooth enough to not be uncomfortable as you laid back and looked up at the sky and for once in Silent Hill, you felt at peace.

You closed your eyes for a moment as the wind blew small strands of your hair away from your face, you slowly reopened your eyes and the moon was bathing everything in its moonlight, including yourself. You looked serene, downright ethereal to James as he finally found you, he was getting worried once he searched your room and every other room that you already ransacked and didn’t find you.

He took a deep breath air before releasing it as he could now be calm. A few minutes ago, he was talking to Maria, the woman was good company. She was cocky, confident, and a downright temptress but he had enough of those types of women in his younger years. The attention was nice but you caught his eye, he really shouldn’t even be considering anyone when he’s looking for his wife, yet you graced him with patience, a loving and gentle touch, and the way your eyes always seem to shine a bit more brighter whenever he talked to you made him feel..good. Mary, they had their arguments and yet, they loved each other but somewhere along the way the glimmer in her eyes and the way she looked at James, it no longer felt like home. Yet, here he was searching for her after three years of her supposed death.

James saw you staring up at the sky and found himself also in awe at how beautiful the stars shined. He then cleared his throat as he saw you perk up as if he had frightened you, “Sorry..I didn’t mean to scare you, I just got worried when I didn’t find you in your room.” He said softly, as he walked a bit more closer before he found himself sitting down a bit away from you as he didn’t want to invade your space. “Are you okay..? I mean, obviously we aren’t since we are stuck in this hellhole but you seem to become a bit more reserved.” James said as his eyes glanced at you before looking elsewhere.

A silence followed afterwards and it seemed to eat at James, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

You let out a huff as you turned your body to fully look at James, “Are you something with Maria?” You rebutted with a question of your own. James was stunned at the question as he felt a red flush settle at the tips of his ears as he shook his head, “Me and Maria..we are just uh..good acquaintances. That’s all..” He stumbled out as your eyes hyper focused at his small movements and gestures.

“Then..why don’t you act the same way with me? You found Maria and me at the same place, we have been traveling together for a while now and yet, it seems like..you dislike me.” You muttered out before peeling your eyes away from James. James didn’t mean to make you feel that type of way, he didn’t mean to make you feel isolated from your small little group. This place was already isolating as it is.

“I-..I’m sorry, it’s just that..well I find myself feeling some kind of way whenever I’m near you and I don’t want that to affect us, it’s difficult to explain.” You could see James in the corner of your vision, he was rubbing the back of his neck. A bubble of confidence or maybe the way the moonlight reflected on James’s eyes made him seem all the more pathetic. You patted your lap as you looked at him for a split moment, “We have all the time in the world right now, explain this feeling to me, please.”

James looked at your lap that you patted before looking up at you, he felt like if he gave in to you, he would betray Mary. He did all of this for her. He reprimanded himself for feeling a warm feeling whenever you guys even locked eyes for a split moment. Yet, a part of him craved comfort, he wished to be adored again. He wished soft hands cradled his worn and tired face and pressed soft kisses against it. Mary once did that before the damned illness took her.

He moved closer to you and placed his head on your plush thighs and closed his eyes.

Warmth.

That’s what you gave off, the scent of a sweet yet citrus scent clung onto you and your clothes. He tensed up when he felt your hands on him. One on his chest and the other one scratched his scalp and he battled to hold back a soft groan. Sinful. This was utterly sinful. He was still married to Mary, he loved his wife, yet why did he turn around and push his face onto your stomach as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled him close.

“J-..James..!” You stuttered out as the touch to you was foreign. You had have past lovers and loved every single one but none of them made you feel the way James did. The older man, he made a part of you want to baby him..protect him and care for him. He could provide for himself yet to your mind that didn’t matter.

“You make me feel warm, you make me forget about Mary. It feels so wrong. I’m here for her..and yet, your arms have felt more like home than hers ever did..and I feel guilty for such thought.”

Those words that James muttered out against your stomach made your face burn unlike any other. You didn’t know how to respond as you felt him take a deep inhale and then exhale, he felt more relaxed..guess that was eating at him for a while now. Your hand merely slid from his chest towards his back and rubbed his back as she sighed.

“You don’t have to feel guilty James..I also feel the same, I just didn’t know that you felt like I did. You always seemed reserved towards me, so I just thought I made you uncomfortable for something like that.” You felt James shift before you removed your hands from him as he sat up. He was fairly close now. You could smell him just like you did in the flower shop.

“..As I stated before, I’m not uncomfortable with you. I will feel terrible if you got mixed up with someone like me, (Y/N). You’re kind, sweet, warm, patient, and just everything that I’m not. I still have this whole Mary thing to resolve. We still need to get out of here and..I’m a bit older than you. You’re barely enjoying yourself, I’m already past my prime.” James said with a soft chuckle leaving his lips. God, that chuckle..it felt like a drug. You wanted more of that.

“You should stop putting yourself down, you’re terrible at even finding a good thing about yourself, James. You have this softness in you, I can see it. It’s just hidden by troubles, nothing that a little patience and talking can’t undo and about the whole age thing. Do you really think I care? We have gone against unexplained beings and you think an age gap is what’s gonna scare me off?” You rebutted with an eye roll as James raised an eyebrow.

“Do you like your men older?”

The silence that followed was all consuming, you cleared your throat as you puffed up your chest a bit as you nodded, “Well, yes but not senile old.” This seemed to make James laugh as he turned his face away from you as his body shook with his laughter.

“So, do I fit into your criteria?” James asked as his normally reserved and cold demeanor changed slightly. It had a hint of flirtatiousness and genuine curiosity. “I mean, yeah, you do.” You said as you couldn’t help but notice him moving closer.

A sudden change in the air happened, it was noticeable. He hummed as he looked at your eyes and then down to your lips, he wanted to kiss them so badly. It was almost downright painful how much he craved to brush his lips against yours. You could feel his eyes, you almost felt naked in his stare. It felt like he was undressing you.

“Jam-..”

“Can I kiss you?”

Did you fall asleep on the roof of the hotel and now your mind was conjuring up some wet dream about the male you have been lusting over? No, this felt real. He felt real. The warmth he radiated was real. You could only nod before he leaned in close and looked into your eyes with his beautiful, enchanting blue-grey eyes, “I need you to say yes or no.”

You felt your heart beating quickly, he was close, his slow exhale of breath. You could feel it against your lips before you opened your mouth, “Yes..please.”James let out a soft and quick breathy laugh before he placed one of his hands on your neck and pulled you into the kiss. His other hand was placed on your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You couldn’t hide the slip of a soft whine tumble out of your lips.

Heavenly. That’s what James felt right now. If Silent Hill was his own personal hell then you must be his personal heaven. The hand that held your neck slowly slipped upwards towards your jaw as he held it. His tongue flicked against your bottom lip as to ask for entrance.

James acted different. This wasn’t the same man that seemed to dislike small talk or any time of human connection if it didn’t regard Mary. You might’ve unleashed a animal, a hidden side of him that you only caught glimpses at whenever he swung that metal pipe and aimed at those twisted creatures before pulling the trigger without hesitation. You opened your mouth, a tad bit but that was enough for James to slip his wet tongue into your mouth. Your arms that were once by your side slipped upwards to grasp at his faded, forest green military jacket as a anchor. Your own tongue shyly met his in a heated and sultry dance. The kiss that was supposed to be somewhat sweet became needy and sloppy.

He tilted his head to the side as his hand that was on your waist slipped down and underneath your shirt as his calloused and rough hands grasped your body as if to reassure himself that you weren’t going to slip away. That you weren’t a figment of his imagination. You were real.

The two pulled away from the kiss as a line of saliva was the only evidence of the hot and heavy kiss. James’s hand that was on your jaw slid upwards and wiped your bottom lip as the string of saliva was no longer there. The air was charged with sexual tension, it was no longer awkwardness and stepping on eggshells. It was filled with lust, need, and want.

“I need you..I want you but we don’t have to continue if you don’t want too.” James said between small soft pants as he tried to regain his steady breathing. Your eyes were hazy, in your mind, you only wanted him. You craved him. You have held back for a while and now the man that you craved, he craved you back.

“I need you as well, James Sunderland.”

Those words sealed your fate. Now, here you were, your shirt and light jacket thrown on the floor of James’s hotel room. Soft moans and pants filled the room as James left dark purplish red marks on your neck and collarbone. How you were going to explain these marks to Maria tomorrow, well, that was a problem for tomorrow. James was set on marking your skin up, claim it as his. To claim you and mark you as his woman.

His tongue licked and traced from your collarbone down the valley of your breasts. He placed a couple of sloppy kisses there as his mouth traveled to your right breast as he attached his lips around your harden bud. His tongue swirled around it as he started to suckle on your breast. His hand ran up your body and groped your left breast, his thumb and middle finger pinched and tugged on your nipple as one of your hands grasped the bedsheets and the other hand tried to muffle your moans and gasps.

Your body was soft, warm, and inviting to James. He felt like he was tainting you with all of his sinfulness, he didn’t want to damn you but at the same time. He grasped onto you as if you were his salvation and maybe, you were. His angel, his pretty girl..he wanted to leave you a beautiful mess. His teeth softly teased your nipple that was on his mouth before he pulled away with a lewd ‘pop’. Your expression was his favorite thing, yet he disliked you hiding your face.

“Don’t hide your face sweetheart, I want to see you for who you are, please.” He said as he locked eyes with yours as his mouth wrapped around your left nipple as his right hand slid up your body to tug and pinch your spit ridden nipple. He gave the same treatment to your left nipple until he felt satisfied with himself. After that, he left a couple more love marks on your chest just to make sure as pulled away from your shivering body.

“May I?” He said as he eyed your pants as you nodded as your hands slid down to unbutton and unzip your pants so that he didn’t need to struggle as much. His hands then grabbed the hem on your pants and panties before he tugged them down in one fluid motions. The need to cover your intimate area was strong as your hand slipped between your thighs to cover your slicked cunt. James found that cute, he dropped your pants and panties on the ground before his attention returned to you.

He grasped your waist and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he made you sit up as he got on his knees. He wanted to taste you, badly. He looked up at you for a sign of hesitation before you nodded once again in consent as his hands prided your thighs open. He felt himself salivate when he saw your cunt dripping for him, “All for me, pretty girl~?” He cooed as he looked up once more to see your flustered face. He chuckled as he began with pressing soft kisses on your inner thighs as he teased you with small nips to your thighs. He suckled a few marks on your inner thighs before he was face to face with your cunt.

He closed his eyes as his tongue slipped out and a wet stripe licked your slit. You instant let out a whine as your thighs tensed up, he kept your thighs apart using his hands which were wrapped around them. He prodded his wet muscle into your cunt as his nuzzled his face into your wet heat. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit as his tongue lapped at your juices as he eagerly tasted you like if you were an expensive wine. His tongue prodded your clenching entrance before he nuzzled his face more into your cunt as his tongue slipped into your clenching and unclenching entrance.

His slurping became downright pornographic as your hands left the crumpled up bedsheets and slipped into his dirty blonde locks. Your head fell back as your lips were in a ‘o’ shape as moans and whines of pleasure left them. You began to grind your cunt against his mouth as the way he slurped you like he was a hungered man was all too addictive. The way his nose bumped against your clit would send shivers down your spine as goosebumps riddled your body, “J-..James~!” You moaned his name loudly.

This made James prideful, he pulled away from your slicked cunt as leaned his head against your thighs as you guys once again locked eyes as he panted heavily. He looked downright fucking sinful, his hair a tousled mess in your hands, his face flushed red, his eyes glazed over with pure lust and admiration, and his lips along with his chin were smeared with a combination of his spit and your juices. “Use me to get off, c’mon baby girl, I’m only here for you.” He panted out.

Those words made your eyes roll to the back of your head as his lips wrapped around your clit. Fucking hell. He was so fucking good, you felt the coil in your stomach come to life. One of his hands left your thighs as they slipped down to your cunt, his index and pointer finger slipped into your cunt without much resistance. He angled them upwards and curled them in a ‘come here’ motion, you soon began to grind your cunt on his face like if he was merely a tool for your pleasure.

The coil began to slowly unravel as he continued to suckle on your clit as his fingers quickened in pace as he felt you clenching non-stop on his fingers. You pushed his face against your cunt with your hands as his unused hand gripped your thighs in a bruising hold before he pulled away as he heard a disappointed and pitiful whine leave your pretty lips. He panted heavily as his chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to regain all the air he needed. He fell back on his ass as his other hand that was on your thigh wiped his face clean from your wetness. “Not yet, pretty girl, you aren’t going to cum that easily.”

He said as before he stood up, he then began to strip. Once he was naked, he had scratch marks and cuts on his body. They had long scarred which meant he probably got them long ago, your eyes mapped out his entire body before your eyes found his cock. He was trimmed, neat which surprised you. He was a good six and a half inches, he was more length than girth. He had a pretty pink tip, that was currently leaking pre-cum as it seemed that eating you out worked him up.

You looked up at him as he walked towards you, you licked your lips as he loomed over you. He grabbed your chin as his thumb ran across your lip, “Will you be a good little girl and suck me off, ‘hm?” He asked as you merely dumbly nodded, “Then, what’re you waiting for?” He let go on your chin before as he grabbed your hair into a ponytail as your mouth opened to let him slide into your mouth.

Your mouth wrapped around his tip as your tongue licked his slit that was leaking pre-cum. You swirled your tongue around his head before you slowly took more into your mouth, you had a bit of a gagging reflex so little by little did you take his cock into your mouth. You felt the tip of his cock press against the back your throat which caused you to gag, your hands held onto his muscular thighs as your nails dug onto them. He was fully in your mouth, he could see that you were tense so, he gave you a bit of advice, “Relax..breathe through your nose. You will cause yourself to gag more if you try to breathe through your mouth.” He said as he felt you take his advice.

He then started to bob your head up and down his cock as he felt drool mixed with pre-cum coat his cock. He also heard a bit of it fall onto the floor beneath the both of you, he let soft groans out as his head lolled back in pleasure as the hold that he had on your hair tighten, “That’s it darling, you’re taking my cock so well…” He mumbled out as he slowly began to buck his hips into your mouth. As when he looked down at you, he saw your pretty mouth around his cock as those tear filled eyes looked at him.

“Fuck..if you look at me like that, I might just cum early, doll face.” He muttered through gritted teeth as he felt you hollow your cheeks to create more suction. He felt you become more comfortable as he placed his other hand on your head as he began to lightly thrust into your mouth. The lewd noises and the occasional gagging sound around his cock made him shiver. He felt the knot in his stomach slowly appear.

He quickened his pace a bit more as he almost lost himself when he felt you swallow around his cock. The way your throat tighten around his cock, it was fucking heaven sent. You were a fucking miracle. He began to just fully thrust into your mouth as you slacked your jaw, letting him fully fuck your mouth as groans and..a whimper left his mouth. Oh, this was heavenly, he made such a pretty noise that made you bob your head with his thrusting as you felt his cock throbbing into your mouth more frequently.

It was you that pulled away from his grasp as you coughed, your lips were swollen from the kissing and the sucking you were just doing. He let out a frustrated groan leave his lips as he felt his cock throbbing as his orgasm was so close. You inhaled and exhaled deeply as your chest heaved, “If I couldn’t get my..orgasm, then you can’t either..” You panted out as James merely glared at you before he nodded, it was only fair. He edged you close to your orgasm and you did the same.

He pushed you down on the bed as he towered over you as you guys scooted upwards onto the bed a bit more. James placed a pillow underneath you and moved you close to him, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he looked at you, “Uh..I don’t have a condom, are you sure?” James asked as his hands were on your hips as his thumbs wrapped smoothing circles on your skin. You bit your lip as you thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, it’s okay..I want to feel all of you.” You mumbled.

James nodded as he positioned himself before he slowly slipped inside you. You winced a bit at the penetration as it had a been awhile since you slept with someone. James gritted his teeth as he swore that he wasn’t about to cum right then and there. You were fucking tight, he huffed as the grip on your waist tighten as he slowly sank more of his length into your cunt. You, in the other hand, you felt filled. He thrusted fully into you as your toes curled as he let you get used to him and his size.

A few seconds passed before you rolled your hips and a soft moan left your lips, you looked at him and gave him a reassuring nod as he bottomed out before thrusting back into you. Your hands wrapped around his neck as your nails dug into his board shoulder, “F-..fuck, James..feels so fucking good~!” You whined out as James settled for a slow yet deep pace.

Skin on skin slapping could be heard throughput the room, the scent of sex lingered and consumed the air in the room as the bed squeezed with every deep thrust that James gave you. Your moans mingled with his groans as his hands ran up your body and groped your breasts as bounced every time that he thrusted into your squelching cunt. Lips messily found each other as both of you locked lips in a sloppy and lustful kiss. Passion and..love was found between the two of you. You guys fucked each other like if you were in your own honeymoon.

You guys complete forgot about the outside world and the cruel reality. You guys were completely focused on each other, saliva slicked lips found bare and naked skin to mark as James pace became more quick. Your nails ran down his back creating red irritated marks as he groaned, one of his hands slipped away from your breasts and down to your clit. He rubbed quick and tight circles as he felt you clench around him like a vice, trying to milk him for everything that he had, “f-..fucking hell, c’mon doll face, take my cock. After we are..out of here, I will make you my pretty wife and fuck a baby into you, yeah~?” James said rolled his hips into your cunt.

You nodded as you were feeling so fucking good, he was fucking you so good. “y..yeah, I wanna be your pretty wife..fuck a baby into me right now, please baby~!” You whined against his ear as he nodded. Both of you too drunk out of each other’s presences as the coil in your stomach grew too tight as he quicken the pace into a more quick and deep pace as his kissed your g-spot so fucking precisely and him rubbing your bundle of nerves didn’t help as you came around his cock without warning. You clenched around him tightly as he felt your walls spasm around his cock.

“Good girl..coming on cock so prettily, gonna make you a mommy, mhm, you want that baby girl, ‘hm~?” James said as he wrapped his unused arm around your waist and pulled you close to cold sweat covered body. You nodded dumbly as you felt overstimulated, the way he kept fucking you like a mere ragdoll, chasing his own orgasm made you clench around him. You bit down on his shoulder he as he continued to thrust into you as he felt his cock twitching more frequently, “Close..I’m gonna breed you, my sweet girl. Make you mine fully, come on, cum with me. Let’s cum together….” He muttered as his breathing was ragged.

His chest heaved quickly as his thumb started to swipe against your clit as his thrusts became animalistic in pace as he pounded into you. He groaned loudly into your shoulder as came deep into you. Filling your womb to the brim with his seed as you cried out as you came hard. He stopped swiping on your clit as both his arms held you close to him. He could feel himself twitching inside you. Fuck..you both were tired. He slowly pulled out of you with a wince as you merely groaned, you felt his sticky, warm seed drip out of your abused cunt.

James pulled you down onto the bed with him as he would clean this mess up later but right now, he wanted to relish in the afterglow. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his hands rubbed your back as you nuzzled into his chest, “I will do everything I can to get us out of Silent Hill..I promise.” He muttered against your hair as you merely nodded as you were fair too tired to form any sentences. He soon felt your body go limp as you feel into a deep slumber.

This wasn’t about Mary anymore, he had to move on from her..he loved Mary but you loved him even if he was a broken man. You chose to embrace him and give yourself to him regardless of the darkness within himself.

You were his saint, his angel, his goddess..his little piece of heaven.

[cherryspicest]

Silent Desires

BLACKPINK Rosé x Male Reader 13.6k words

It took quite a long time before I managed to finish this. Kinda struggled with the smut part since I'm not really used on writing one and it was my first time. Of course, still learning.

Was also kinda lazy to proofread it since I have no much time left to do it. PC monitor is broken as well.

The house perfectly matched what you imagined back in Indonesia: two stories painted in blue, and visible wood planks on walls. That one alone window on the second floor must be your bedroom. It had curtains so you thought it might be. Black water filled the canals below and it stretched up to four blocks from your right. It wasn’t smelly, but sure was dirty. 

The driver helped carry boxes containing your stuff from home, some were heavy and not, and those light ones were under your carry. When you asked him to place it at the front door, he refused and insisted on placing it inside the living room instead. He was taller than you, a visible look of a state man on his face. Usually they’d wear red caps during work like what TV shows would portray. 

Amid work, you saw the neighbor on your right took out a black garbage plastic that was twice the size of her width, and she struggled to carry it inside the garbage can. She was slender, had her hair dyed whitish purple, and a hint of Asian in her eyes. She wore a white top with thin black sleeves covering her arms, and denim shorts that exposed her pretty legs. They were mesmerizing. But you didn’t want to look like a creep either. Seeing her glance at you, you waved your hands. Hoping for atleast a smile or a wave back, you didn’t get one. She chose to ignore your greeting as she headed back to her house. Maybe she was blind or her eyes were blurred, so you didn’t take that bad too much. But the feeling of rejection still hits you like a train. 

When all boxes were brought inside, the driver returned to his van and waved goodbye before pulling off. Took hours before every item from each box was pulled out, fixed in places and corners. Most furniture was made in tarnished wood. They were elegant.

The sun had started to set, you could see it by the orange clouds and vibrant violet skies outside your window. It was your first sunset in Canada and you loved the scenery. They seemed like perfect wallpapers you'd see on the Internet. 

You stepped outside for fresh air and saw the girl at the right house once again. She sat on the doorway stairs, shading below the black roof. She must’ve not seen your greeting awhile ago, it must’ve been an unintentional ignore. You were shy, everyone would do, but in fear of being a loner you chose to overcome it.

A grass field separates your houses, but only a few steps, like thirty or thirty five steps from yours. She kept her composure and watched your presence coming to her property, a toothpick in her mouth. Her eyes behind those specs remained unwelcoming and a lingering bitchiness within. 

“Hey there um. . . I’m your new neighbor by the way on your left so I guess it wouldn’t be bad if I introduce myself to you aye?” You began, keeping your tone calm and friendly. Behind you were nervous and shy.

She played with the toothpick with her tongue, moving it from the left to right corner of her mouth. Her eyes gazed into yours and there was silence for seconds. When you tried to talk again, she interrupted you.

“Too bad for you I don’t talk to strangers” She answered with an Australian accent, so she must be an Aussie.

“I mean like at least-“

“I don’t . . . Talk to strangers.” She stood up. She was slightly smaller than you, but she had the height. Walking slowly towards you, you began to step back. “Do I have to repeat it again to you Mister? I don’t have time for these corny things. If you’re a new bird here, keep it that way as long as you don’t bother me.”

“Alright chill” You raised both palms. “I’m sorry for disturbing you Ma’am.”

You began to walk away while she kept her eyes at you, standing firmly, watching you disappear on her property. You must’ve been so lucky to stumble upon a kind of person on your first day. They said Canadians are welcoming and appreciative, but it seemed it was all a scam. 

It was a slight struggle to forget that interaction, but soon you’ve moved on. Days continued with cleaning and adjusting to the new surroundings. The town near the village had good amenities and stores to buy goods from, and you realized the currency seemed low, then you also remembered it’s pricey when converted into your currency.

 Each day you’d walk past her house, you can’t resist looking for her presence. She was pretty, everyone would agree, some might not, but in your eyes she was, though her attitude said otherwise. 

Days continued with no interaction with the neighborhood. A day later it was time for the first day of class. You jumbled through your closet, finding your best outfit. You wore a simple black oversized T-shirt and cargo pants, like your usual outfit when going out on malls with your parents. But it was a weird feeling to wear civilian clothes on normal days of school. In your country they’d require you to wear a uniform in some cases.

The university looked like an old British house. The walls were made in bricks, and pillars were carved in vertical strips, colored in white gloss paint, that held up much of the entrance shade. Students walk past you. They were tall; it was expected.

The first subject was Science, and it took minutes before you could’ve reached your classroom. You had to ask some professors for the room direction, told you to walk 2 floors above, then turn right, saying you’d see a cone bush at the front of the door; which was on the corner near it. As you entered the classroom, you sat on the seat near the window, third row from the blackboard. Shelves stood at the back most of the classroom. Frames of old looking people hanging on the side walls with their names below of their faces. ‘Jonathan’ if you had read some of their names correctly.

It all started with introductions and knowing each other. Some were old students so they had formed a bond already. Learning you were from Asia, they seemed surprised. When you returned to your seat, someone had already sat beside you. His name was James when you asked. He was friendly, his vibe was cool enough to make you feel comfortable to talk. 

During break, he had opened up most of the happenings around the school, and some students you need to avoid stumbling into. Sounded like a cliche school scenario, but it’s the states. Three women walked over the corridor, catching most of the students eyes around the area, even the both of you.

“Who are those? They look Asian.”

“Like you, yes” James continued. “That’s Lisa, Jisoo, and Jennie. One of the popular girls around the campus, obviously. All of them were sophomores.” 

“So they are Asian?”

“I just said it a second ago.” He glanced at you. “There used to be four, until that issue happened. She goddamn disappeared like a rat from a cat.” 

“You know what happened?”

“I don’t know man, I ain’t touching other’s shit. But I’ll tell you, she’s hella pretty. That Australian ‘yaur’ and ‘wotah’ would make you impressed if you’ve only reached that time when she was here.” 

Once they disappeared on your sights, you both continued your way back to the classroom. 

You thought everything seemed to flow smoothly, until you met this group of boys who had entered the classroom late. They didn’t approach nor face you, but the way they gave you those eyes was enough for you to understand; not friendly. You didn’t mind and pretended they didn’t exist.  Few hours had passed, Monday class had come to an end, and you and your friend had separate ways at the intersection near the school.

On you walk home, you saw the neighbor girl once again. The sun had set down, but it was not hard to familiarize her face on the dim. She sat on the same spot, a toothpick in her mouth, and wore her thin framed specs. You wanted to ignore her presence but she’s just too attractive to resist, and when she caught your eyes, trying to land a quick glance at her, you just bowed. 

As usual, you received nothing but eyes and silence. 

Back in your house you finished the first assignments of the day, it was History and Science, so it took much time despite its simple instructions. You heard voices outside your window. You were confused. The moon had shone brightly between dark clouds, and it’s eleven in the night. You peeked over your window and saw a SUV parked in front of your neighbor’s house, its headlights lit. Three women stood and one of them rushed your cold neighbor into a hug. They wore fancy clothes, like in a club or party. 

You watched closely and realized they were the same girls you’ve seen back in the corridor. And when they all stepped inside, you finally pulled away. You remembered what James said, the girl who had left their circle and decided to not go to school anymore, and maybe she was that woman who chose to rot in her house instead. Maybe yes, maybe not. Questions lingered in your mind as you packed up your things for tomorrow, then later you found yourself sleeping in your bed. 

Tomorrow was the same usual day, but things went sideways when the arrogant looking boy group came to approach you while you scrolled through your phone on your seat. 

“Hey man, heard you’re the new rice eater around the campus again huh?” He grinned, his tone sarcastic. “So, how tho?”

“What how?” 

“I mean . . . How you get into this school? I don’t remember that it’s easy for people like you to attend  here.”

“Ah? By having a brain, I guess?”

He chuckles and looks back at his friends; who were grinning along with him. You reminded yourself to stay low and humble. You wanted to be known on campus, like a popular one, just like how you were known as the “Friendly guy” in your old school. And once you made a big mistake with these morons, it'd put you into a crumpled outcast inside the university. 

“Alright, they like your answer rice boy, but I don’t. ” He scoffs, giving light nods. “Here, if you’re trying to act cool and shit here, it won’t work. So don’t start something that people would  hate you for. I’m just reminding you boss, not threatening you. As long as you play with the system around here, you’re fine, aye?”

You nodded slowly, though deep inside you’re annoyed; you hated getting into a situation like this. You felt like getting controlled or so what, and for the sake of your positive look from the other people you just agreed to his terms. 

James accompanied you most of the school hours. The Math professor was absent today, so you found yourselves sitting on the bench outside, in the park.

“So you met Deandre?” He opened up

“Yeah, he’s the bully in the classroom right?”

“Sort of. Like man, that dude came from a wealthy family so of course his attitude would be obviously like that. You remembered what you saw yesterday?”

“The girls?”

“Yeah those fine ladies, he dated one of them. I don’t remember who, but he did. So yeah, he became more known to the campus until his ego just went” He mimicked a plane with his hand and raised it upwards, making a swooshing sound.

“Well about the girls, you told me that the woman who left was ‘Aussie’ right?” You remembered last night’s event. Jisoo, Jennie and Lisa, they were three, but still unsure. They had given the vibe. 

“I guess? She had the accent, so yes. Why?”

“Well I have this neighbor who speaks with that accent as well. She looks cute, and tall. You know these cute girls with specs.”

James scoff, shaking his head. “Nah man, I doubt it’d be Rose. She had left Canada already and maybe returned to her hometown.”

“Yeah, maybe I’m just assuming too much.” 

So days continued like this. James has been by your side most of the time, and you met some new friends along the classroom. Clifton, Julia, and Tyrone, that’s where their names are. They were old students who began here three years ago. They had formed bonds already, knowing each other before you could have, but you didn’t mind. Every new bird starts with this. 

Yet there were the morons who never stopped bothering you. During breaks, when you’re alone, they’d come and ask for some extra lunch or snack. It’s not a sort of bullying way where they’d punch you suddenly, but more like they’d threaten you when you don’t contribute; telling you they’d frame you up for stealing someone’s snack from their bag. James couldn’t do anything as well, as much as he wanted to help, he knew what this group of dick heads could do if you’d go against them. 

Remembering their words, just go with the flow. You’re not some sort of a main character where punching them would turn you into a superstar

As usual, there were no changes with your interactions with the cute neighbor. Every time you’d walk past her house, sometimes you’d see her outside on the usual spot she’d sit in. Exchanging glances on each other, you were used to it, and every day that passed by, having the same usual empty interaction, you began to feel tired of chasing your wanted friendship until you start ignoring her. 

One night you walked home late. You stayed in the library for a long time without realizing it. You also didn’t want to skip a gym session, so you worked out around seven in the night, then finished by nine already

You saw her at the front of her property talking to two guys, one stood behind her. They had bandanas around their forehead. They wore baggy denim shorts and some sleeves that had pockets on the chest part, where one pulled a cigarette box out from it. You walked slowly to watch the scenario, it’s strange to see her talk to someone else anyways. 

The guy behind grabbed her arm forcefully and she tried to resist but was not deemed enough to match a moron’s strength.  The man on the front lit the cigarette in his mouth, a hint of glow in the stick, and right as he came closer he blew smoke at her face. You kept your composure and thought she must owe them something, but then the discomfort in her eyes, pleading for help, left you no choice but to save her. 

“Yo leave the girl alone.” You said as you approached, your tone calm. A hint of frustration when they looked at you in unison, despite your neighbor’s arrogant attitude, you felt the sense of needing help in her eyes. 

“Who are you, punk?” The white man with the cigarette answered as he faced you, taking another in his cigarette. “Never seen your face around here yet?” 

“You don’t need to know who I Am bro, just leave her alone.” 

“And what will happen if I don’t?” He slowly clenched his fist, you noticed it. And as he slowly took a step forward, you reached out to your pocket and pulled out the butterfly knife you loved playing with. Their courageous eyes turned hesitant when they noticed, and as you spun and free styled the blade he took a step backwards. 

You took a step forward, and they flinched when you feinted them. Just a bunch of dick-heads they were, acting strong but lacking action. 

“You’re lucky, woman” The guy who held her arm said as they left the both of you, running across the empty street.

You watched them disappear from the darkness. Your neighbor slowly looked at you. Hoping for some kind thanks or appreciation for saving her life, well you didn’t get it, again. 

“I can handle myself, why do you have to butt in.” She hissed and walked back to her house.

“What’s your problem?” You raised your voice. “Thanking is the least thing you can do, why do you have to be this shit ass?” 

She ignored your words, shut the door closed, and the lights from her door disappeared. Guess helping her was not the right move to earn her trust. Since the start she was this toxic, she never changed, and to think she’s just alone in this house without anyone visiting her but her friends completely gives the reason. You’re tired of chasing her. She’s not worth it anyways. It’s better to be independent than to chase some person who doesn't give a single shit at you. 

In your bedroom, you were about to sleep. Move your circular pillow and unroll the blanket wide. You were still bothered by the past hour scenario and worried they might come back, so you took a quick peek at her house from your curtains. It’s just that you’re worried about some bad things that may happen during the night and who else could know what those assholes have been running in their minds right now. 

When you saw the lights from her bedroom shut, you finally laid back and slept the night away. 

The next day at the school, a seminar was held at the gymnasium where most students were required to be at the place. Chattering and noises filled the whole gymnasium. You and your new group of friends sat together at the upper box, third row, enough to see the announcer deliver his words from the court floor.

You saw the three ladies once again sitting in the same row as yours. The morons were there as well, staying by their side, one guy carried the short hair’s bag. Were they some sort of servants? No they were not when you saw the guy who threatened you rest his arm around the cat shaped eye girl’s seat. She was fine with it, smiling at him despite the corniest move a guy would do. 

Then you met them later again in the corridor as you stepped out from the male’s comfort room. The girls were with them, stood by their side and one behind. Your eyes met Deandre’s, it was full of wickedness, and a smirk forming in his lips. 

“Yo rice boy, what’s good? Can help me out for some slight extra money? You know it would be bad if I’m left hungry for the day.” He began. “Just a little you know? I mean not that I have no money, but at least . . . An extra?”

“Sorry bro, I can’t help you with that.” You forced a smile and began to walk out. Then he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, making you stop. 

“Come on bro” He softened his voice that only you could hear. “Remember what I said back then? I bet you wouldn’t like the consequences when you don’t provide something, right?”

And there you are, stupid enough to give half of your brought money in your wallet. Following the system, the same thing that runs in your mind over and over again for the sake of your dream popularity. Nice guy in a jean jacket, that’s what you wanted. Their eyes locked on you while you walked out, keeping your friendly vibe despite the anger boiling inside you. 

Days turned into weeks, and you received the same usual treatment from them all over and over again. You just seemed to be these morons play toy. Every time you’d walk back home, it’s always frustration that you’d bring, that you just wanted to beat them until they begged crying on the floor. If it weren’t for your scholarship that required you to behave and act like a chained goat around crocodiles, then you would have shown those morons what they deserved.

As well, you continued to ignore your ‘appreciating’ attitude neighbor. Between those days, you were used to it, and then you felt it’s something normal you’d do. Until one day, while walking back home, she approached you with crossed arms in the middle of the street. The sun had started to set down on the thick, dark clouds like it’s clinging on its own. She wore a simple black shirt and denim shorts.

She pulled out a few money bills from her pocket and reached it at you. “Here.”

“For what? ”

“For saving me last week.” 

“No need, thank you anyway.” You began to walk.

“I’m just returning what I owe you.” She continued, and you paused. 

“I don’t look like money, Miss. I just did what a normal person would do—help somebody who’s in distress. I didn’t do that to impress and such. Just take your money.”

“Every Monday, you’d walk past my house between five and six in the afternoon. Then, all of a sudden, you appeared nowhere on the street at nine? ”

“And you’re assuming I'm stalking you? ” 

“I didn’t say anything, boy?” 

You groaned. “You know what? A simple thank you will end this conversation instead. Besides, I won’t even have a conversation with someone like you anyway.”  

“Hm? Thank you, my neighbor superhero; that’s what you want to hear, right? ”She forced a smile, narrowing her eyes. “Plus, why do you even want to be friends with me in the first place? You boys are just the same. Tell me you’d be friends with me, then I get comfortable with you, let you inside my house, and then we wait to invite each other to fuck in each other’s mouths in my bedroom. That’s your plan, isn't it? ”

You scoffed. “This woman is ridiculous.”

“Don’t act blurry, Y/N. You guys have the same minds when it comes to meeting girls.” She tilts her head, keeping her gaze. Though she’s pretty and her pair of alluringly slender legs, it never came to your mind to fuck her somewhere else around.

“Alright, you're generalizing too much. Look Miss, I just want to be friendly to the people around me. You’re my neighbor ma’am. The lot on my left is empty, and you’re the only person I could talk to around this place. Isn’t that hard to understand?” You answered. “And, did you just call me by my name?”

She kept her composure, not even saying a single word. 

“See, I must be right, you are friends with the famous girls in the university. That night, I saw three girls visit you in your house. There are three as well in the school: Lisa, Jennie, Jisoo, and you’re probably the Rose that James was talking about.” 

“So what?”

“So what? It means that you’re just one of them. A bunch of assholes that make fun of students not popular as you all do, and abuse their souls out just because they don’t fight back.”

“Oh, I’m an asshole now?” She took a step forward and landed a push on your chest. “Talk shit at me if you don’t put your ass down when Deandre is around you.”

“I ain’t a coward around him, don’t you dare call me that.” You pointed at her.

“Then what do you call yourself then?”

“I’m doing it on purpose. I just want . . . “ You cut yourself off. Opening up your dream of being a popular boy in the university will just ruin your image more at her. “I’m doing it for my scholarship. You think I’d still be here if I punched him in the ground?”

“A scholar?’ She scoffed and glanced around her surroundings. “Poor for you, you have to endure that. So don’t cry on me that you’re experiencing those. You chose this University, face the consequences then.”

She might sound aggressive, but some of her words were right. Her last phrase ‘ you chose this university and face the consequence ‘ hit you. You wanted to experience life in the west because you saw how most of your relatives seemed to enjoy their lives here. Luxurious sedans, modern houses, that’s what you saw most in their pictures. Then you wished to apply your school experience here from your hometown thinking it’d just be the same. 

You had mixed feelings with your encounter with Rose; disappointment and excitement. She was fierce and straightforward. Up close, you wouldn’t expect such an attitude from her gorgeous visuals. You wondered if she had a boyfriend, or probably no one would even wonder with her arrogant attitude. 

She was annoyingly attractive. 

The next day, it was Saturday, so you had no classes. You finished all your assignments right away before so you wouldn’t worry about chasing papers to your professors. You went for a jog around the village, no streets were missed to walk into. Most houses were colored assorted but had the same design as yours and Rose’s. 

Finishing your lap, you walk past Rose’s house and see her garage door lifted open. It wasn’t hard to see her in the dim, and when you got close, just under the garage door, you saw her fixing a vehicle’s engine. The car was purple, you could tell beneath those dusts, and looked like a mustang built from 80’s

Black stains marked her arms and gray shirt. She wore baggy pants and a cap, her pony tail squeezed between the cap’s closure. She noticed your shadow from the floor and quickly looked back with her wrench pointed at you.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a warning tone. There was visible tiredness within her eyes. 

“Are you trying to fix your alternator?”

“Why do you care?”

“Maybe I can lend some hand for you, I missed doing mechanical work, especially with cars and stuff.” You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms.

“I don’t need.” She turned back and continued her hands on the engine. You just watched her, she said no and you wouldn’t want to be an annoying fly that would force yourself into her. 

Several seconds later, there was a spark and she squealed, pulling her arms away quickly and moving from a distance. Her eyes slowly looked at you, her face fresh from shock. 

“You just made the scenario worse.” You stepped in and took a look at her engine, where you noticed a red wire with little smoke in it. “Worse thing is, you’re trying to check every wire in here when this red wire has visible tears on it.”

“What are you saying?” She gave you a look as if you’re saying bullshit, still standing at the same spot.

“Your alternator is shorted. So you might need to get yourself a new wire for this.”

She slowly took her steps closer and stood beside you, picking the red wire where the smoke had fully disappeared. She watched it close, then her eyes shut as a sigh escaped her mouth. 

“You can buy some wires there in town. Just gotta tell the staff there this and that and you’re good.” You began to walk away 

“Shit.” She groaned, then turned to look at you. There was frustration in her tone. “Alright, can you do me a favor?”

“Favor? I thought you didn't need my help?”

“Come on, please don’t be dick head for now.” She hisses.

“I’m now the dick head between us now huh? After talking shit at me yesterday?”

“Y/n!” She widened her eyes, warning you.

“Now, you’re turning the tables again” You scoff, then reach your palm at her. “Money.”

“I don’t have cash right now.” She dug her hands in her pockets. “I’ll just pay you in some way, Just-“ She groaned. “ Buy me the wire for now.”

Well, you couldn’t resist her. She had this sort of lack of temper management, maybe only to you or   to everybody, but yet you still find it attractive and hot. The wire shouldn’t cost much of your cash so you agreed with her request.

It only took around ten minutes to find the exact wire from mechanic shops and later you arrived back at her house. The wire cost two and a half dollars. You bought two in case things went sideways, you knew how Rose would obviously act if it did so. 

“You sure this is it?” She looked up at you.

“Yeah. I told him my boss would kick me out of the house if he gave me the wrong one.”

She chuckles, it was your first time seeing a smile form in her lips and it was beautiful. You hoped you’d see more of it. You began to step out of her garage again and her face became intrigued, 

“Where are you going?” She asks.

“Home, why?”

“Did I tell you to?”

Your brows furrowed. “Are you my mommy or something?”

“No, but you can’t just leave right away.”

“Why not?”

She tilts her head, resting a hand over the car’s grills. “So you can just walk away from your asshole neighbor that easily?”

“Probably yeah, I hate assholes.” You grinned and she turned her back at you, continuing her hands on the car. You heard her talking with her head ducked inside the engine.

“Alright, stick with your decision then. ” 

You left out a quick chuckle at her before you walked away from her garage. The sun had shown a great promise above the skies where you wanted to get off right away under its burning rays. Before you would have reached the tree near your house you heard Rose make a loud “ow” that sounded like a moan and groan at the same time. It sounded good, you didn’t deny. There was this sort of excitement inside you when you heard it, but still it’s just bad. 

You ran back then found her at the same spot, her head still ducked in the car’s engine, and when she noticed your shadow she slowly looked back. 

“What happened?” You asked worriedly. 

“Why are you here?”

“I heard you just yell or so and I thought that something happened to you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to help me.”

You glanced away. “Human instinct bro. I mean come on, even a stray ass dog will come here when you yell like that. So what happened?”

She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I hit my head? Lost a finger, popped my eyeballs out.”

“What the hell is that answer?” 

She rolled her eyes and threw the wrench at your front. “I obviously need help, asshole. Why the hard to get behavior?” 

“I’m not.” You picked up the wrench and slowly stepped into her garage once again. “It’s you who’s doing it. Acting arrogant the whole time then turns into a little pup when things go down.”

She pushed your arm and it left a black stain on your gray tee. “Yah? Calling me a little pup as if you’re not one as well in your school, huh?”

“I’m just doing it for the sake of my scholarship and dream popular-“ You quickly stopped when you realized you slipped off your greatest secret, but it seemed too late already you saw her eyebrows raised and she chuckled.

“Popularity? So you want to be a popular guy huh?” She covered her mouth, and you watched her giggle in amusement. “This dude what the hell?” 

“Alright, laugh all you want.” 

She continued laughing at you, placing continuous taps over her car. You felt embarrassed that you wanted to squeeze yourself into a tin can, never to be found again. Was this a turn off? Nevertheless, you began fixing and removing the old wires of the alternator of her car, making yourself busy at least. 

“Yeah yeah.” She finally uncovered and heard her sniff. “Fucking hilarious, that is something that a nerd guy would dream in a high school musical. Damn boy, I never thought you���d be funny” She stood beside and noticed your silence. “Wait, so you’re not joking?”

When you didn’t answer, she placed another push on the same spot, turning the stain even darker. 

“Don’t make a fool of yourself, Y/n.” She said between chuckles. “Tell me that you need bitches without actually telling me you need bitches.”

“Hey?” You paused while ducking in. “That’s not the point why I want to be. To be honest, I don’t need one.” You lied. Though you wanted one, maybe someone like her or either herself. She gives this bitch vibe who’d you call ‘mommy’ and kneel upon while she verbally or physically abuses you. She’s hot as hell. 

“And that’s something a bitchless guy would say in a girl so he’d feel like ‘I’m manly and tough, I don’t need girls in my life because they’re bunch of useless beings’ “

 You tapped the battery with the wrench, sounding a ‘ting’, and you stood straight. “You know what, I’m done. Fix it yourself.”

“Oh no, baby boy is crying again.” She made a mocking sad face. “Did I hurt his feelings again?” 

“It’s just annoying that you’d always make me look like I’m some weak ass shit who couldn’t do anything.”

“I did not say you are, and plus I’m just stating the facts based on my experiences.” She snatched the wrench out from your right hand, then moved closer at you.”They’d tell me the same sentences all over again thinking they’ll impress me.” She squints her eyes, tilting her head. Her hair brushing over your hand. “But guess who’s falling into their knees at the end? Calling me ‘Mommy’ while I ruin their mental shits out and even with those they’d still always look for it.” Her voice became soft, a lingering mischief within her tone.  “Seems like I’m pretty irresistible right?”

You were frozen, and at the same time you’re lowkey enjoying the moment with her hidden side. 

“Why aren’t you answering, you know I hate these kinds of people who leave me hanging.” She added while she kept her eyes locked on yours. 

You shook your head to snap yourself back to reality, you were falling into her trap or some sort of hypnotism. She’s too alluring, every second you’d feel something pulling you into placing your lips on hers. 

“Whatever, I’ll just finish this” You ducked back below the hood, continuing your hands on the wires. “I still have a meeting later.”

She scoffed. “It’s Saturday dumb ass.”

“Meeting isn’t always related to school.”

“As if I knew it?”

So you stayed by her side most of the day, fixed her broken mustang’s alternator, then had small conversations with her. You were getting dirty every hour. The amount of dust, dried oil stains and burnt ashes all over, but you didn’t care anyways. She had treated you to lunch, surprisingly for her, and you’re starting to see her bright personality on every hour that passes by. You thought James lied. 

When you got some water inside her house, you saw notebooks and pens on her desk and the lamp light lit open. Most books had your university’s name on it.  A brown acoustic guitar with a capo stood beside the desk. She plays instruments? Damn she’s just attractive.

Finally, you had replaced all the broken wires with new ones and when you told her to start it up, the mustang came into life, roaring while the engine shook within the rhythm. She squealed in happiness. You saw her covering her mouth from the windshield while she enjoyed the view inside like a kid who sat in a Lamborghini for the first time of her life.

You stepped a few steps backward and enjoyed the view of her car that was revived from the dead. You let out a relieved sigh. You watched her step out from her car as she approached you with a light smile on her lips; now this seems sincere rather than a forced one. 

“Ko-ma-wo” 

“Uh, what?”

“It’s thank you in Korean.’ She answers. 

“Oh” You hesitated for a second, then gave her a quick bow despite looking stupid because you knew that’s what most Koreans do when receiving thanks. “No problem.”

“As I told you a while ago that I’m pretty cashless right now, I don’t know how I would pay you.” 

There were a lot of thoughts running in your mind, and obviously they were what a guy would like for a hot girl to do: free sex, having her knees down at the floor while she devours your cock, maybe a dog style on the garage, or maybe be his boyfriend. But you were educated, not some punk ass dude who’d treat them like objects. You knew the boundaries, so instead you just kept it to yourself. 

“It’s fine, you don’t need to. I enjoyed fixing your car anyways, so it’s more of my own liking rather than a forced work.”

“Well . . . I don’t think I can agree with that.” She looked skeptical. “I just don’t feel like living in a world knowing I’m indebted to someone.”

“It’s fine, Rose. I volunteered, so I don’t really need you to feel indebted just because of that. I told you myself, I don’t need it.” You emphasized the final three words, hoping she’d finally agree with your request. But it was not a request either. You’d call it a consolation thanking because she finally talked to you properly without being a bitch. 

She sighed, her eyes closing while she looked down. Both of you were outside the garage, but still under the lifted door that covered you from the blazing heat. 

“I’ll think about how I would pay you. But for now, thank you for your help.” She nodded lightly. The smile was still light.

“Alright, I’ll see you again.” You smiled back. “Take a shower already, you don’t wanna stink and get seen dirty by the neighborhood.”

“Yah? Even if I’m dirty like a beggar, I won’t stink.” 

“Of course, you’d tell me that.” 

So another point for your memorable interaction with the neighbor. She is Rose. You’d call her with that from this point. You remembered that moment where she was very close to you. And right, you were stiffing and yet you had to make yourself looked calm as possible because you didn’t want to look so weak and soft either. That voice while she tells how most of his boys called her ‘mommy’, was enough to make you gulp alone in your bed while leaning against the bed board with the blanket covering the lower part of your body.

 One final check on her wouldn’t hurt, so you did peek over the window—saw the lights shut on her bedroom—then laid back to your bed, thanking god for a great Saturday.

Sunday ran past as there wasn’t something to do. You just stayed up inside the house, fixed some things and arranged your items that didn’t need to be arranged, and yet you still did. After a while Monday has come so you’re back to reality. Faced with numerous seat works and homeworks, you were buzzed—but then you remembered you had inspiration—Rose. James never knew about her being your neighbor and decided to keep it first to yourself. She might not want others to know her presence and as you knew James thought she had left Canada.

Deandre and the gang were like hornets that had their hive touched by you, they just won’t leave and disappear at least for a day until they sucked out your resources. Most will be depressed, but you were smart—bought a pack of cheap cookies that only cost around five to seven dollars, and you bring one extra every single day for him. Perfect timing, that’s all what it takes—but not now. 

You washed your face in the comfort room. The water cold, it was refreshing. You were alone in the room and there was peace at least after a long day merging with crowds in the corridor and the room. The running water from the faucet. When you stepped outside, pulled the door open, a woman stood at the front leaning against the opposite wall. Her eyes on the left corridor and travels towards you once she has noticed your presence out. She had a good set of eyes—more of like a cat shaped and you realized then she was one of Rose’s friends. 

“Oh there you are.” She smiled. “So I think you’ve seen me already, probably.”

“Deandre’s girlfriend?” You didn’t hesitate. She was that girl on the court where his arms were around her seat. Was she this? Maybe not, but would it make any difference? 

She chuckled, covering her mouth. “Not really. How do you say so, Mr. New face?”

“Well, I just assumed? Just how he’d bring you with him taxing me for some shit everytime in the corridor?” 

Her chuckles sounded so expensive that you’d wish to hear it for an hour straight. And with that pretty fierce cat face, every boy would fall for it. 

“You're more confident than I thought so.” She smirked. “But anyways I’ll just get straight to the point why I’m here. It wouldn’t really sound good if rumors start to spread when that one popular girl is seen talking to a new bird like you right in front of the male’s restroom.”

“Yeah, they might think—“

“I gave you a head or such.” She interrupts you like she knew what was running inside your head. Never thought she’d be open minded. “So, do you drink or not?”

“Well . . . Sort of? Only at reasonable events and parties.”

She pulls out a card that was entirely white and blank. “Tomorrow, 10 pm in my house.”

“What’s happening? And what am I supposed to do with a blank card.”

“Show that to my guard at the front gate, and it’s a party.”

“Is this a dream or something? Are you really inviting a guy who you have never met before?” 

“Well I met you right now, plus it’s more of a friend’s request rather than my own. So are you going, or are you wasting the once in a lifetime chance?”

You were hesitating while her eyes were locked at you, waiting for an answer. But then, she’s right there in front and you wouldn’t want to make herself disappointed. At Least not waste her time inviting you just for you to say ‘no’.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

Her eyebrows lifted and a closed smile appeared in her lips. “Okay great! Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Toodles.” She walks out, maintaining eye contact for a while while she waves her hand at you. She walks sassy—not in a way she’d wiggle her butt at every step—but more of reminding everyone that the prettiest is passing by. Almost nearing the class shift, it was time for you to head back to the room.

At the final break shift, you opened up the party invite to your friends. They were surprised, obviously. Not even expecting such a popular girl to come right in front of the comfort room to reach out for a party invite.

“Jennie herself?” Clifton freaked softly that only the four of you could see.

“Yeah, she reached me out this blank ass paper” 

Your friends studied the paper. There was just nothing, even you could think she’s just fooling out of you. Was she? Yes or no. She doesn’t seem to be the type of person. If she did make a fool out of you—can you even complain? 

“Probably invisible ink” Julia says while she tilts it back and forth. “Just not some ordinary paper card you’d cut out”

“Well what’s your plan then?” James asks. “Can you bring friends?”

You place your hand over your face. “Fuck, I forgot to ask. But do you think I can?”

“I’d say not, blud.” Tyrone answers while he pulls his bag from the floor, placing it behind his back.  “Those girls are just picky with the people they’re encountering. You're one lucky bastard.”

“How did you make her invite you?” James asks, his tone filled with confusion and curiosity. “As if you’ve done nothing and suddenly that girl just came looking for you . . . Right in the toilet? Pretty bullshit. ”

You shrug shoulders. “I don’t know. Ask her yourself. You know like when the nerd guy in a K Drama suddenly gets the popular girl’s heart?”

James swung his hand. “That’s some bullshit, you ain’t in a fantasy world bro.”

“Like I have the courage to talk to her in the first place?” says You. 

“Anyways, goodluck.” Julia raises her thumb. “You have the GC to chat on. If you need help, we'll be there.” 

“Thank you fellas.” You smile. Having these kinds of friends is like hitting a jackpot in a slot machine. Only the four of you, even though it might sound little, it was fine rather than a bunch of plastic backstabbers. 

Back home it’s the usual routine: gym and cardio. Finished by ten in the night and it was your most late one. You had eaten a set of combo meals in a fast food chain, and it felt like carrying a baby in your tummy as you walked a kilometer. 

You saw Rose outside, carrying another garbage bag to be thrown in the can at the front. When she noticed your presence on the street, a light smile formed in her lips, and of course you couldn’t help but smile back. She had a toothpick in her mouth—again. 

“Late night junk works.” You began and she chuckled while she pulled the toothpick out from her mouth.

“Late night walk back home.” 

“Quite a struggle to find a bus back to this town,” says You. 

She pushes the lid down. “Poor you. Why? Was the date so good?”

“Date? What do you mean?”

She raises her brows. Her eyes darted everywhere but you. “Date with your girl or so . . . “

“My girl?” You scoff. “Where did you get that?”

“ I — “ Her eyes finally met yours, and the feeling was different. You could feel it. “—I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking?” She rolls her eyes. “Such an asshole.”

“Well that wasn’t a question tho?”

She sighs, her eyes closing. You loved poking her with your unnecessary follow ups, and seeing her get annoyed feels satisfying— it’s like poking your cold crush back in elementary. You still did remember it.  Well, Rose is your crush, sort of? And since silence seemed to follow your words, you decide to add things more. 

“I went to the gym, never realized my rest was too long until I noticed the clock, then I decided to eat outside, and here I’am.” 

She nods lightly. Her mouth forming an ‘o’ then looks away. “Well, stupid you.”

“Yeah stupid me.” You chuckle, and you find yourself forcing a smile. She’s not even looking anyways so it’s fine. “Anyways, I’ll head home now. I have to rest. You should too.”

She tucks a few strands of her hair behind her ear, then gives a light nod. “Still have things to do. I ain’t like a baby kid like you who needs to sleep early.”

“Well you’re a baby as well: Baby attitude.”

She rolls her eyes; her face shows disgust. “As if I cry when I get real-talked?”

You resume your steps and pretend you don’t really listen to her words at all. Of course, she’d open that up over and over again, and she’ll always find a way to counter you. “Whatever, goodnight.”

“Yeah that’s right, walk away idiot.” She raises her voice, but not that loud for the whole neighborhood to hear. It was only meant for you. “He really always gets on my nerves. But, he’s goddamn kind at the same time. Fuck this, Roseanne.” She whispers to herself while she watches you in the distance. Then later, she heads back inside as well. 

Struggling to pick whether a stylish or a casual one, you still ended up choosing nothing. And not because they were your favorites, but because you were overthinking what people like them would wear on house parties. You laid back to your bed and watched the ceiling. What are you even supposed to do now? Countless questions appear every second in your head, and then you start to feel sleepy afterwards, until you drift into paradise. 

Tomorrow was just a regular school day. Finished papers and passed them to the professor, hanging out with friends during break, then later on it was wrapping up. Your friends remind you to at least enjoy and behave at the same time; you didn’t know what was about to come later as well. It was around eight and a half night when you got to your house, and surprisingly, Rose was nowhere to be found outside. Maybe she’s busy.

A black loose shirt with spread collar and khaki pants was your choice. It is stylish and comfortable at the same time, making it the perfect outfit for a whole night run with strangers. Assignments and projects were not something to be worried about, as you finished them earlier at the school during break hours. So, you’re currently stress-free—almost. And the only thing to stress right now is the later’s event. 

At the front of your house, you begin to book for an Uber. You know it’s costly —as if you have any other choice for it. Tapping the book button, you realized you missed a field to answer, and it’s the drop off location. Shit, you forgot to ask her, and Jennie never said the location either. The paper was blank, so you’re left clueless. 

A headlight shone at your spot from the right. You cannot see who’s car it was, but it’s annoying you. Its engine roared when it accelerated, sounding like an old car. As it parked at your front, you realized it was Rose’s, and you saw her when she rolled the windows down. 

“Get in.” She began. Her tone sounds like she’s been doing this for years to you.

“Well, I have a party tonight and—“

“And you think we’re not going to the same place either?” She tilts her head and checks her watch. “Almost ten pookie, you don’t wanna miss the party.”

What a savior. Even if she was an annoying neighbor, she was there to help you at the exact time you needed one. She was hot, and her outfit made her more. A black fishnet long sleeves that revealed more of her skin beneath while wearing a black crop top inside. She also wore denim shorts—as usual. This was the most alluring outfit you have seen from her throughout the time that you didn’t even realize you were staring at her throughout the time she was talking. 

“Yah!” She raised her voice, snapping you back to reality. She tilts her head with a face that reminds you she was talking. 

“Oh sorry.” You shook your head. “I’m just really flaky right now. Finished some assignments and stuff, yeah?” 

“Ah, weird for me to tell Jennie to invite a nerd for a party.” She scoffed.

“Do a nerd even wear like this, huh?” You show off your clothes. 

“And I didn’t know you could wear something nice at least.” 

“Alright, sure. So you picked me up just to insult me again?” 

“Just stating the facts.” Her lips form a smirk as she moves her hand over the gear knob. “Seatbelt, Mr. Crybaby.”

You shook your head in annoyance; there’s no absolute counter to her at all. Well there was, but you’re in her car, so as if you have the courage to speak shit at her. Once she heard the click from your seat belt lock, she accelerated the car; hard enough to push you back to your seat.

Throughout the ride, you and her shared a few conversations. Watching the lights across the town, it was amazing. The car ride vibe was entirely different compared back to your home country. You’d describe it way more peacefully by the few cars that came from the opposite lane.

Shortly later, she parked her car behind a black SUV. When she told you this was her place, you stepped out and stretched your arms. The walls were perfectly trimmed bushes that were almost thrice the size of your height, it was funny. Several parked cars lined up in the same direction where Rose’s car was, and most were luxurious ones, ranging from Chevrolet’s to Mercedes’s. 

She guided you inside, where you saw how wide the place was. At first, you thought it was some event place or house. But when Rose told you this was Jennie’s, it gave you another reason to believe your friend’s words that messing with them is the biggest mistake you'd make. 

The guard let you both in when he inspected your invitation cards with a small blue lighted flashlight. He was well built. The clothes shaped his width, reminding the ones who would want to trespass her place. Inside the house, it was slightly dim, and it gave a sort of club vibe where you have to walk through darkness before seeing the lights. Well you did, but instead, it was a living room with some people around. The lights were pinkish red. Few people were on the second floor while some leaned against the railings. 

“Rosie!” The short haired girl approached her. She was tall and was one of the three popular girls. “I like your outfit, so freaking bad.”

“Do you really have to glaze me that much, Lisa?” Rose grins while she holds her hand. Lisa’s eyes slowly land on you as her eyebrows raise.

“So, who’s this new face you’ve brought tonight?” asks Lisa. 

Rose looks at you, and while she says her words, she keeps her eyes at you for a while before looking back at her. “A kind guy who helped me fix my Mustang last week in my garage.”

“Oh, so we’re bringing strangers now?” Lisa looks at her while she lands a few glances at you. 

You felt Rose’s hands around your arm, and her thumb began rubbing shapes in your skin. “Darling, you really think I’m just bringing strangers here? Of course, you know the obvious."

Lisa’s expression turned bright as she nodded several times, knowing the answer through Rose’s actions at you. “You’re starting to keep stories from now, huh.” She pokes Rose. You didn’t even expect Lisa to reach her hands at you. “Lisa, by the way.”

“Y/n.” You accepted the hand offer. A judgmental person, that seemed what she is, and the courage she had to call you a stranger in front of you was bewildering. Good thing, Rose managed to play it off smoothly, and you didn’t expect her to save you at all, knowing she’s an asshole towards you.  

When Lisa walks away, you look at her. “Why did you save me?”

“I’m not entirely an asshole to embarrass a person who helped me as well,” says her as she meets your eyes. “Come, I’ll let you meet my friends.”

“Shit, that would be too embarrassing.” You slightly pull away. 

“I thought you wanted to be popular?”

“I do.”

“And I’m giving you the chance, yet you’re here with your baby attitude again.”

“Shit.” You sigh, resting your hand on your hips while you try to gather your courage to face such students like them. 

“Tonight, you’d be known as my boyfriend, and they won’t do shit about it.” 

“You’re my girlfriend?” You raised your brows. “How I wished to be.”

She tilts her head as her eyes narrow. “Just for tonight, idiot.”

“Oh.” 

“And yeah, keep wishing. As if I’d boyfriend someone like you.” She rolls her eyes and starts to pull your hand with her. “Come on, no time to waste.”   

Yeah, rejected as usual. You were just playing with it; you intended to act sad, but still it was quite painful to hear such rejection. She led you to a couch where her friends sat, and you saw a person that's always ruining your mood every time you see him. Deandre, he was there, at the couch sitting beside Jennie. And as Rose feels your sudden step aback, she grabs your wrist. 

“If I say you touch me, you will touch me.” She softly says while both of you approach. “No but’s and if’s.”

“Hey, baby.” Jennie stands and approaches her, kissing cheeks. “Quit late, huh?”

“Sorry darling, my boyfriend is quite a snail-head in times of events like this.” She grins, looking at you.

“What a surprise, Y/n,” says Jennie. “You didn’t even tell me yesterday that our Rosie is your girlfriend already. Quite a mysterious transferee, huh?”

“Uh,” You stutter, and when Rose notices your awkward act, she warns you with her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it lowkey, I guess.”

“Ah lowkey.” Jennie lightly nods and nudges your arm. “I understand, you know. Rose is quite a popular one in school, and I assume you’d hate rumors when they realize you’re a transferee.”

“Yo Jennie, why invite an outcast here?” His voice. Once again, you heard it, and it’s enough to ruin your mood. “Guess you got the wrong person. I don’t think he’d enjoy the party by reaching out for glasses and serving us like a waiter some shit.” You heard his friends share chuckles and laughs. 

“Deandre, what a fucker.” She whispers, rolling her eyes. She was still facing you.  

“Babe,” says Rose, enough for Deandre’s whole friends to hear. “Come sit beside me, I’m missing your touches quite fast already.”

So she called you babe, and hearing it was enough to make you blush deep inside. You’re just both acting. You reminded yourself, and this isn’t the best time to dwell into your feelings. You followed her request and sat beside her. As you sat, she rested her right leg over your thigh, and snuggled against you.

All of their eyes, even Deandre’s, were on both of you. They were silent, some looked away and pretended like they didn’t laugh at his joke. Rose enjoyed the view on their faces.

“Touch me, now.” She whispered while keeping an eye on them.”

And gently, you did. You placed your hand over her thigh and caressed it gently, enjoying every inch of her skin. It was smooth and soft. You could stay up the whole day doing this over and over again, and not get tired. 

Deandre was silent. Within those smirks and scoffs in his lips hides the embarrassment he feels towards the both of you. 

“At Least he could pull Rosie than you could do.” Jisoo teases. She was sitting on the right couch. 

“She just had no one to bring, trust me.” Deandre answered back.

“Not really, Drei. We both know I could bring any handsome guy in the school with a simple hi, right?” says Rose. “Just tell me you’re being a crybaby because you were not the one with me tonight.” She looks up at you; your faces are a few inches apart. “Right, babe?”

You were getting flustered, but it’s all just a plan, remember? Everything is fake. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You forced a smile. 

“Aww come on. What’s with those simple answers?” Rose pouts. “You don’t love me?”

“Ah, of course I do love you so much.” You took the courage to caress her cheeks, down to her neck.  “You’re so gorgeous tonight.”

Then, you felt her hand over your chest, where she unbuttons one, caressing the same ways as yours.  

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She says between. 

Your said so ‘cuddles’ was enough to shut Deandre’s mouth more. Another scoff from him, then a word never came out of his mouth again. He only watched both of you share cheeky moments together. His friends shut quiet, acting normal, some were on their phones. Deandre’s dogs, that’s what they are. 

The heat between the three of you has finally cooled down, they were avoiding their eyes on you, while Deandre would place glances sometimes. Jennie came back to the table with bottles on both hands: a whiskey and gin. Shit, liquors, it’s been awhile. You had the last of those during the post-prom night event, where you stayed with close friends, drank all night; not even caring about your haggard looks. 

All part of new friendship—you wanted this. Jennie insisted on pouring the liquor on your shot glass. You didn’t expect her to be this kind. You assumed she’s a two sided woman. 

It was bitter, felt your throat burn as the liquid passed down. You hid your uncomfort through closing your eyes and swallowing hard, while looking emotionless. It’s a tough battle. Shortly after a few shots, your body seems to condition the liquors, until you realize you’re starting to drink it normally. 

Looking at Rose, she’s hell of gorgeous. The way she sat, both legs over the sofa, her whitish purple hair free on her left shoulder while she rested her left hand on the cushion—was a sight to enjoy. Beneath those fishnet sleeves teases her curves and smooth skin. The world seemed to slow down, it was just her you see. As the pink light colors her face, there was the sense of allure and attraction within your heart.

You excused yourself for a bathroom break, they didn’t seem to care, so you went right away. Splashed cold water on your face from the faucet, that was it—you just wanted a refreshment. The bathroom luxurious. As you stepped out, you had to pass by several couples who were making out on the wall.

Back at the table, Rose had become quite more flirtatious. She was getting drunk; Jennie told you, and the fact that it was your first time seeing her act like this was a changing experience.  So you just let her be. It’s only a plan, something not to be serious about, and within her touches and snuggles lies nothing but falseness and showing off to people—she’s just helping you, remember. She’d never be your girlfriend. Smiles and laughter surrounded you, and you were just here forcing yours. 

You had decided to take fresh air outside Jennie’s place, right at Rose’s mustang. The sight was relaxing, though it’s nothing but a grass field. You stayed under a tree beside her car. The crescent moon shone between dark clouds, and there were the stars. 

You were drunk; you knew that, and as you shook your head more makes your vision get fuzzier—it was funny.

You heard crunches of soil near you, and behind you saw Rose approaching. She walked playfully, swinging her arms freely. “Hey baby.” 

“Stop that.” You forced a grin. 

“Why? Don’t you love it when I call you that?”

You walked towards her car, and leaned against the hood. “No.”

“No your ass, bitch.” She stood beside you and playfully pushed your arm using her body. “What are you even doing here?”

“Taking fresh air.”

She giggles and covers her mouth. “Just tell me you’re not used to crowds.”

“I’m used to it,” says you, “I’m just exhausted.”

“Ah.” She lightly nodded, and there was silence. It’s quite comfortable to have moments like this with her alone in a quiet night—wished you’d have another of this soon after. Soon enough, you didn’t notice she was looking at you until you glanced at her.

“I like your outfit.” She smiles lightly. “Not being an asshole, but it’s really nice.”

You were flustered. “Thanks . . . I just save this kind of clothes for times like this. But you know what’s nicer?”

“What?” 

“If I don’t have these on.” 

 You winced internally, almost wanting to run a kilometer away. Rather than a disgusted look, her face showed off more of a disappointed look. 

“That’s some corny ass shit, Y/n.” She scoffed. 

“Just kidding, forget about that.”

“I don’t forget corny jokes that easy, crybaby.” She tilts her head and teases you with a forced pout. 

“Well . . . I’ll be honest right now,” You say, “I like your outfit as well. Quite weird for me to see you getting attractive each day.”

You said it from the bottom of your heart. She really was. Everytime you’d see her outside her house, despite the same clothing style she’d still be beautiful. 

She seemed to accept your words. Then, she moved closer to you, her eyes gazing at yours. “You know what will be better?” She tilts her head, her body shifting at you. “And it’s when these are off from me, and it’s right in your hands. "

You froze, and found yourself staring back into her eyes while she wore that mischievous smile on her lips. She copied your joke, but why did it work so well for you. Her deliverance, not so maybe.

“Why is Mr. Tough guy silent, eh?” She leans, your face a few inches between, and grins while giggling mischievously. “Feels shocking when your words are thrown back at you as well, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, and you said it so well that it didn’t even sound like a joke anymore.” 

“Oh?” She tilts her head, keeping her face close at you. “Did I even say I was?”

Both of you were close, and the urge to kiss her lips, pull her into you, consumes your mind. Your heart was racing fast. This is the time, to take your chance, to finally fulfill that desire you wished. It didn’t take long enough for her to notice you glancing into her cute lips.

“Come on, do it.” She says softly, her breath hot on your face and smelled of liquor. “I could see it in your eyes, Y/n.” She moved even closer. “Do you need mommy’s permission again?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, hesitating. She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean anything of this, and you didn’t want to take advantage of her—even if your urge to do it was boiling inside you. Shit, whatever. You didn’t want to miss it, and you finally took the chance as you pressed your lips on hers. They were smooth like cushions. It all started off with just presses and touches of lips, and the play had changed when she placed her hand around your nape. You’re completely clueless with kisses and such. There you let her continue the kiss, feeling her pulling your lower lip between her lips, giving it a tender suck. Your heart was racing faster, feeling the excitement consume your body. But it’s right here—it’s happening. 

She slowly pulls away, tracing her hand on your cheek down to your neck. “Looks like someone doesn’t know how to kiss a girl, hmm?”

 You nod sheepishly and look down in embarrassment. Never in once you did have. Shortly, she lifts your chin back at her.

“Let me guide you then.” A sly smile appears on her lips “Inside the car.” She commands as she walks towards the driver door, biting her lips at you. 

As you sat inside, she pushed the retract button of your seat, then straddled herself atop you as the seat retracted full. She wasn't heavy at all, yet the feeling of her weight on top of you was euphoric. There’s no such thing as discomfort when an alluring woman is right on your front.

She flipped her hair to the right, then sensually slid her fingers from the side of her neck, down to her shoulder, where she pulled down her sleeve to expose her bare shoulder. “Am I pretty, asshole?”

“Yes, you—” 

She leaned and crashed her lips once again into yours, not even letting you complete such a compliment. The rhythm turns aggressive, and the way she’d devour your lips like no tomorrow excites you even more while her hands cradle your face. Her curves were delighting as you placed your hands on it.

You didn’t know how to answer her kisses back, and you let her control you. She wasn’t even complaining, seemingly enjoying the position she had, and as the make out prolonged, you began to feel her tongue between your lips, where you didn’t hesitate to welcome it as she explored your mouth. Your hand grips into her waist as you feel your body burning into excitement. 

She pulled away and sighed sensually, straightening her back. She licked her lips wet and bit her lip while she gazed into your eyes full of lust and desire. This is a drunk Rose. In any situation, she’d always look gorgeous—hot. 

“Ssibal , igeo neomu segsihae” She hisses, pressing her hands over your chest, then slowly unfastens your buttons. Contemplating decisions, she stopped when you grabbed her hands.

“Rosie, do you really want this?”

She scoffed, and pushed your hand away. “You really had the audacity to stop me when you can’t even kiss properly, huh?” She leans closer into your face, making sure you’d hear the following words from her hot mouth. “And I don’t want you calling me with that name. Wouldn’t it be better if you start calling me—“ She moves to your ear, whispering “—your mommy , hmm?” Slowly, she runs her lips into your neck. “You know I hate when something gets in my way, and you just went and did it. But lucky you, I’m not in my mood to give you pain. Now, all I just want is something inside me—and I think your goddamn dick is the perfect one.”

Your cock stiffened even more. Her words were not something you’d expect from that asshole neighbor weeks ago, with only eyes and gazed communication that became tiring every single afternoon. From giving eyes, to exploring each other’s mouth in her car—it escalated fast. 

She helped you pull her fishnet sleeves down from her shoulders, leaving only her black crop top and her delicate skin. Her hips began to rub into your crotch slowly, like she knows how much your cock wanted it—and you really did. A sly smile would form in her lips between grinds when she sees the enjoyment from your eyes. Your breaths and her soft moans fill the quiet surroundings.

Quickly pulling down the black crop top herself revealed a pair of tits that hid beneath the thin fabric. They were just enough for your palms to hold on; perky, petite, and soft. Her nipples hard, and while your thumb enjoyed caressing it, she’d arch her back and let out moans. Her hips continued to grind you. She went faster as you massaged her tits like it’s a separate thing from her.

“Fuck.” She moans and holds your hands, pressing it more into her breasts. “I need something more than this.”

The door clicked on your side and she pushed it open, welcoming the fresh air. You watched Rose dismount herself from you. There were no people around, and she wouldn’t be seen either as she used the mustang as a cover. 

“This way.” She pulled your arm, shifting you to face her outside while keeping your ass on the seat. She knelt down; you know what’s gonna happen next, and you were bracing for it. While she unbuckles your belt, she’d give quick glances at your eyes, her lips smirking like a girl unwrapping her Christmas gift despite knowing what’s about to show up already. 

Pulled your pants and underwear hard down to your feet, she let out a moan as she appreciated the view of your stiff cock. 

“How I missed this.”  She points it towards her mouth before her tongue darts out to give a wet lick  around your tip. A shiver runs down to your body; irresistible, sort of shocking yet you wanted it for long. It was your first time, and it is addicting. She teases you with her tongue licks around your tip, then shortly, she takes you into her hot mouth, pushing herself into your base. You gripped your hands behind, on the seat, clinging yourself within Rose’s devious act. 

The woman moans between swallows, her bobs going slower, then faster — then slow again. You closed your eyes to savor the sensations flowing outward from your crotch. Your hands are gripping the seat harder. You couldn’t help but get mesmerized by the view of her sucking your cock off while kneeling down on a rough concrete road outside, shirtless with her breasts exposed—nipples hard. 

You run your fingers on her hair, gripping a few strands as she pulls away. 

“Mind helping me?” She looked up at you with a provocative gaze.

“You can’t just suck my dick like this while being shirtless outside.” 

“Why?” She raises a brow while keeping a hand wrapped around your cock. “"Don't you want them to know that the guy who they think they can just boss around like a poor pup, is currently having his cock swallowed by the popular guitarist student of Chandelier Academy?” She gives your cock a quick swallow, leaving a slick sheen of her spit between it and her lips. “Are you ashamed of mommy giving his fake boyfriend a head?” 

“No.” You shake your head sheepishly. 

“Now shut your goddamn mouth.” Then the ravaging continues, slightly raising herself to face your cock down, pushing herself until your base. A moan escapes your mouth; it was sensational, and you’d  never get tired—wishing this would last until the morning. Your hands made way on a few strands of her hair while she gave your cock a deep throat, and sensing her struggle you gently pushed her further down, feeling more of her mouth’s insides. 

She gags; you were worried, and she felt it when you started to loosen your grip on her hair, so she grasped your wrist back and pressed your hand tightly once again at her hair—telling you to continue further—and so you did. All you could do was watch your arrogant neighbor take herself deep into your cock, and as well savor every delicious sparks of pleasure radiating from your shaft, up to your spine and into an overwhelmed brain.

“I’m cumming, mommy.” You hiss between gasps. It was near, and within these seconds you’d create a mess in her mouth. Rose responded by quickening her pace, up and down—fast. And you found yourself groaning, placing your hand over her head like you were clinging your life into it. No questions needed to ask whether you’d pop it out inside her mouth or not—that was the answer. She went faster every second, and shortly, feeling it now at the edge of your cock, you released it into the back of your neighbor’s needy throat. The sense of relief consumed you. All of that stress and hesitation turned into nothing but thick white semen inside her mouth.  

She finally slows her pace, her mouth still wrapped around you as a mix of your cum and her saliva glistens on your cock. Then she looks up at you.“I missed that, did you like it?”

Your nods formed a smile on her lips, and soon she stood up on her feet where she pushed you inside further. Closing the door with her, she moved to the driver seat, shifting her body facing you on the passenger side, where she spread her legs. Her denim shorts were still on, and when she noticed you just watching stupidly, she raised a brow. 

“I removed your pants myself, so are you,” stated Rose. This was the greenlight, your hands made way into the button of her shorts, unfastening it, and pulled it to her knees. Her black undergarment greeted your eyes; you kept it on for a while as you admired the view of her delicate thighs, running your hands on them. You’d tease her with your slight touches over her crotch area, where she’d let out a soft moan despite the black thin fabric that separates you and her skin. “You know how to make a woman wait, huh?” 

“I’m just making every second count,” says you between heavy breaths. “Might be the first and last.”

“And who said it would be?” Her fingers run on your jawline, as excitement fills you upon hearing those words. You heard it right— might not be your last ever; she said it herself and surely it wasn’t your drunk mind making up voices. “Now don’t keep me waiting before I change my mind.”

You placed kisses on her legs, up to her thighs, then to her belly. Her skin is soft, addictive. Running your hands on her hips while you plant those sweet kisses, she’d spread her legs wider, telling you she couldn’t wait to give in.

Pulling her black undergarment down welcomed your eyes with her delicious pussy, like a meal you’ve wanted for years. Your body burning with desire and lust, and you didn’t wait any longer to devour her cunt right away, latching your lips around her tender flesh. 

“Goddamnit.” She grunts, her hand grabbing into your hair as she watches you. Shortly, your fingers find her opening and slip inside, sliding in and out, as you lean towards her to suck her nipples. She was at your mercy, and the sensation was consuming her. 

“Faster” She let out a small whimper, her eyes shutting tightly. In response to her request, you quickened your pace, moving faster than usual. Your fingers wetter. “I’m near”

She’d keep her vulgar words until now, but that even made you like your work at her even more. Her hands were still over your head, her nails digging into your scalp. Pain was nothing but an obstacle, you didn’t really mind. 

(You quickened more)

At the final reach, she lets out a gasp as she orgasms; her slick wetness dripping into your fingers. Her breath quickened, and she closed her eyes in relaxation, then ran her hand over her messy hair while her desirous eyes gazed at you. Her body was irresistible. You’d take a curvy petite figure every night and day with you without getting tired. 

A sly smile spreads across her lips as her gaze settles on your cock. “Now for the exciting part.”

She pushes herself upright, wrapping her arms around your neck as she crashes her lips against yours, hungrily devouring the kiss. Your bare skin touches hers, and what excites you more is seeing her slender, naked figure right in front of you, her weight over your lap as you feel the heat of her body.

You let her do her work on your mouth. Messy? It was not for you— just entirely hot that you’d last forever doing this with her. She pulled away to position herself atop you. Your cock quivers with need. She grips your cock and gently teases it over her needy clit. Her eyes dripped with lust, mirroring the slick sheen of her body. 

A moan of pleasure escapes her lips as she finally lowers herself onto your cock—a sound that’s hot and bratty, just as you’d imagine. Her arms remain around your neck as you sit upright, her body pressed close to yours, with her long hair cascading over her face, hiding it from view— you know she’s watching herself. 

It started off slowly. You, who was your first time, found it slightly uncomfortable at first, but as time progressed, where she began to change her pace, made you forget such thoughts. Her hips grinding against yours was all that mattered; you loved seeing both of your naked bodies pressed together.

“ Jenjang Y/N. neo jonna himdeureo (Fuck Y/n, you’re so fucking hard.)” She muttered close to your ear, sounding very tired— though her pace over you said otherwise, grinding faster. You didn’t understood a single word from her, probably her dialect on Korea, but her tone was enough for you understand that she was enjoying it. 

Throughout it all, you’re fucking her inside her car, savoring the feel of her orgasming pussy wrapped tightly around your cock with each thrust. Your hands pressed against her curves, feeling the sweat of her body, and supporting her while she gives a nice ride over your cock. 

You’re nearing your peak again, and she’s grinding against you faster now, loud moans escaping her lips. One arm stays draped over your shoulders while the other runs through her messy hair and then over her head. You enjoy the view of her sweaty body, and your hands find their way to her breasts once more. Her lustful eyes lock with yours, and she eagerly devours your lips. Her body presses harder against you, matching the rhythm of her fast grind.

“‘Shit!’ Rose gasps, her voice trembling with anticipation and broken by breathless moans. She’s approaching her peak as well, her body tensing with each thrust. Just before you can release, she quickly pulls away, raising herself and stroking your cock rapidly. Thick, white semen erupts from you, spilling out with each stroke as it travels down to her fingers. At the same, she runs her fingers over her clit, her own juices mixing with the mess on the floorboard.

Her mouth finds its way back to your cock, swallowing it deep and then licking the remaining semen from around it. It glistens with her saliva and your cum, but what you appreciate most is the sight of her face beside it, a hint of your semen at the corner of her lips. Fatigue is evident in her eyes—she looks ready to sleep, or maybe not, as she hints at the possibility of another round.

“Like that?” she asks softly.

“Who wouldn’t?”

“My exes,” she shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “Maybe it was me, so I had to improve.”

“So I’m lucky to experience your improvement.”

“Kinda.” She rests her chin on your lap. “I’ve never slept with a guy without being in a relationship first. So, yeah, I guess so.”

[seokgyuu]

After your flawless job-interview, Seokmin hires you as the newest addition to his company. Just that, once you start, it seems like you’re not who you previously portrayed to be. Instead, he finds himself faced with mini-skirts, push-up bras and gawking co-workers, not to mention your absolute lack of work ethic. Obviously, he needs to fire you! Just that, when he tries to… you simply don’t let him.

Pairing: Boss!Seokmin x Employee!F!Reader

Genre: Porn with the smallest bits of plot, workplace “romance”, Smut MDNI!

Warnings: Morally gray characters, Seokmin is obviously reader’s boss and shouldn’t be fucking her, power imbalance, reader gets objectified a lot, but she enjoys it, reader is… acting very dumb (on purpose), Smut warnings under the cut!

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Hi everyone!! welcome to this little work of… filth! Making my return with a Seokmin fic just felt right (also I just could not stop thinking about this). Please let me know what you think with a reply or a reblog, it would mean the world to me!! also a big thanks to @shadowkoo for making this AMAZING banner and to @bitchlessdino for beta-ing!!

tagging: @okiedokrie, @inkchwe, @shinysobi, @gyuhanniescarat, @haologram, @beomcoups @wongyuseokie, @the-boy-meets-evil, @multi-kpop-fanfics (just some of my fellow dk enjoyers)

Smut Warnings: oral (m receiving), face fucking, praise (good girl, etc.), degradation (whore, etc.), unprotected sex, titjob, breeding, usage of the word “Sir” in a sexual context, tell me if i missed anything!

His phone rings. The Harry Potter title music is playing, letting him know it’s his sister calling. He can’t pick up, or well, no, he can, considering his hands are free, but he probably shouldn’t.

Having talks with his employees about having to let them go is Seokmin’s least favorite thing about being the boss. He never wants anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough or couldn’t live up to any expectations, but sometimes… sometimes it was inevitable.

Like with you.

When you had first walked into your interview, you impressed him with your sharp tongue and your witty humor. Your resume looked perfect for the job, and your previous experience was exactly what he needed. He hired you the following week and deemed his decision a good one - until you showed up for your first day.

See, before anything else, Seokmin is simply just a man. A man with eyes and needs and desires.

The mini skirt barely covered your backside, showed off your legs and those perfect thighs you had hidden from sight before. Your dress shirt would have been fine for the office if only it wasn’t… half open. Or at least open enough to see your breasts almost falling out of your push-up bra.

He knew back then that he should say something. Tell you that this wasn’t appropriate to wear to work. But he didn’t. For the same reason, his mostly male staff began coming into work more punctually, more eagerly and stayed for even longer hours.

It was a mistake, he thinks now, not to say anything to you on your first day. Or any other day after that.

A mistake or the single best decision he had ever made.

Truth be told, he’d never called you into his office to discuss his decision to let you go if it was only about the clothes (or lack thereof) you wore to work. No, he was fine with the clothes, more than fine, actually, if you took just one look at the amount of tissues discarded in his office’s trash can.

But… you lacked certain skills he had thought you’d easily have, considering your previous jobs. You struggled doing, in his opinion, the most basic tasks, and more or less let the others do the work for you. The work he paid you to do. Instead, you sat at your desk all day and played Solitaire or scrolled on Instagram.

The two of you almost never interacted, mainly because he was scared to say the wrong thing or stare too long at your breasts he couldn’t stop thinking about anyway. When it did happen that he had to talk to you, it mostly went with him going back to his office with a raging boner and a guilty conscience.

One time, he brought back some prints from the copy room, only to find out you had been the one to print them. When he asked around the room and you were the one to raise your hand and get up from your chair he almost choked on his spit. You made your way over him, your tight dress hugging every single one of your curves, the slit in the side showing off where your stockings began, the neckline down far enough for him to see the lacy material of your bra once again.

“Thank you, Mr. Lee, Sir,” you smiled at him, your fingers touching his when you reached for the pile of papers. He felt like you shot him and as a result, he shot a huge load of cum into one of his tissues when he was back in his office.

Then, he met you at the coffee maker one time, witnessing you eat a fucking banana in one god damned bite. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you basically deepthroated the fruit all while looking directly into his eyes. He popped a boner right then and there.

All in all, it was safe to say the woman he had met in the interview was gone and he had absolutely no clue why or how he had let you fool him that day you met.

A part of him was angry at himself for letting it get this far, but he couldn’t deny that with every glimpse of your exposed ass and tits, with every encounter like the prints or the banana, he decided to give you one last chance to prove yourself. So far he had given you about 151 chances and you’d screwed up all of them.

Which is how he ended up calling you into his office.

Which is how you ended up sitting in front of his desk on one of the comfortable dark red armchairs, your legs crossed, yet another mini-skirt rising up far enough for Seokmin to at least imagine he can smell you. The shirt you were wearing was tight and cropped and your blazer was lazily hung over the back of the armchair.

“So, Y/N,” he began, shifting on his seat and trying very hard not to look at your tits, “do you have any idea why I called you in here?”

You shook your head no.

“No, sir, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?”

Sir. Oh good lord, Seokmin had to swallow down the pathetic moan he feels creeping up his throat.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I have noticed that you’ve been handing your work off to Chan a lot. Soonyoung as well, and while I understand you’re the newest employee, you have been here for almost five months now, Y/N, and I did expect you to already, you know, do at least a certain amount of work by yourself.”

Your eyes widened the more he spoke, your pout prominent once he finished.

“I’m sorry, Sir, truly! They always offered to help me and I just- I just didn’t want to disappoint them,” your voice strained, almost sounding like you were about to start crying. Seokmin felt his heart speed up.

“I understand that. But still - it must make sense to you that-,”

You jumping up from your chair made him stop mid sentence. He watched how you stalked over to him, your big eyes staring him down with something he couldn’t pinpoint even if he tried.

“It does make sense, Sir, and I want to apologize. I can do better, please don’t fire me.”

Seokmin was frozen in his chair, his seated figure looking up at you, almost panicking when he realized how close you were. If he raised his hand now, he could touch your thigh, could let it slip higher, could-

“Please, Mr. Lee, I’d do anything to keep this job.”

Which is how we get to… now.

His phone is still ringing on the desk, but he’s still nowhere near answering it. He is too focused on your mouth around his rock-hard cock, on the way you look up at him with watery eyes, on the way your hand is fondling his aching balls.

You dropping to your knees might have been the single most hottest thing he has ever seen before. Or well, maybe this right now tops it. Your tongue is flat against his shaft, dragging it along his veins, licking up all the precum that doesn’t directly land in your mouth. You suck on his tip, tease his slit, and moan when you take him all the way.

And Seokmin? He thinks he might have just entered heaven. His hands are itching to touch you, to push you down and fuck up, to lose control, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you with his mouth dropped, with his heart going at triple speed in his chest.

This is wrong. So, so wrong! He shouldn’t let you suck his cock as a way to keep your job, for god’s sake!

Once his tip crashes against the back of your throat, his mind goes blank, and all the thoughts from before disappear. They make room for new thoughts instead, thoughts that finally allow him to do what he wanted to from the second you had walked in on your first day.

The groan he lets out causes you to drip into your panties. And the way his hands now find the back of your head almost makes you come. Your eyes roll back for a second, before you bring them back to look at your boss.

Your extremely hot, perfect boss who took so fucking long to bring you into his office. Who could not take a hint at-fucking-all.

He begins to thrust up into your throat, letting out moans you wish you could record and replay as many times as you wished. His cock is big, just as big as you had hoped it to be. He’s veiny and perfect and his angry red tip is going to become your favorite thing to suck on. He tastes salty and sweet and bitter at the same time, melts on your tongue, and gets you to clench around absolutely nothing.

“Fuck,” he cries out when he picks up his speed, nails digging into your scalp as he continues his hard and fast thrusts, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls tightening dangerously. You need him, want him and almost demand him to come down your throat. To give you everything he has to offer. You press your tongue harder against his shaft, cheeks hollowed out, and you can feel his orgasm nearing with every passing second.

“I’m gonna- fu-fuck, I’m gonna c-come!” His cry is almost taking you over the edge too.

Seokmin sees red and white at the same time, opens his eyes, and stares down at you with his pupils blown and his cock finally emptying his seed inside your awaiting mouth. It almost breaks him, seeing how you swallow all of his cum like a pro, never breaking eye contact.

Breathless, Seokmin slowly gets down from his high, watching how you lick up his cock, your eyes twinkling with mischief, giving his tip a small kiss before finally leaning back, batting your eyelashes.

“So tasty, Mr. Lee. Now, should I get back to work?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It kind of becomes a thing. At the beginning, Seokmin calls you into his office and you suck his cock, make him come, go back to work. All while still wearing your skimpy outfits to work and doing the minimum requirements to not be a complete waste of Seokmin’s money. Even though he figures with a cold shiver running down his spine, it seems like he’s paying you for something totally different now.

You’re enjoying this to the fullest, having a right out blast. Not just because you get to have Seokmin fuck your throat every other day, no, but because of how he looks at you. When you met him that first day at the interview, you already knew you wanted him. Knew he was going to be your next little project. So far you had never failed, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

Working at the company for five months hadn’t exactly been your plan, though. Five months until he finally called you into his office. Five months of you choosing the most outrageous outfits, knowing every single man in that office wanted a taste of you, but only wanting one of them to actually act on it.

“Holy fucking hell, yeah, just- just like that,” he’s leaning against the wall behind his desk, you back on your knees, his cock hitting the soft inside of your cheek over and over again. He’s holding onto your hair with one hand while the other is pressed against the wall next to him. You lick and suck and fuck his cock against your cheek, drool running down your chin. You’re painfully wet, throbbing, and needing him to finally put his cock in you.

By now (3 weeks after your little blowjob-job started) you know his tells, can sense when he’s about to come. So, when you hear that first little noise, you let go of his cock with a plop and get up. Seokmin’s eyes open and he looks at you, visibly confused.

“Wha-,” he begins, but you just take a step forward and crush your lips against his, your hands grabbing his face.

For the first few seconds, Seokmin doesn’t really grasp the situation. You’re kissing him. He begins to melt, his hands somehow finding their way to your waist and when you lead him back, suddenly seated on his desk, his mind goes blank. You want him to fuck you. Want his cock to go inside that probably sweet tasting pussy of yours. He moans into your mouth.

“Take me, Mr. Lee, please, need your cock in me, need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, biting his earlobe after and sighing in relief when he immediately moves to get your panties off of you.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot.” He kisses you again, wild and uncontrolled, your panties now landing on the floor. You part your legs and grab his cock, bringing it to your awaiting entrance. There is no stopping the moan that escapes you once his tip slips in, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip harshly. He licks over your teeth, feels his mind fog up, no thoughts just you, you, you.

Then, he’s fully inside of you. Twitches, groans, kisses you harder. And fucks you like a god-damned beast.

The pace he sets is brutal and you’re lucky it’s after hours so no one is at the office anymore. They for sure would have heard the way the desk is bouncing against the floor with every thrust as well as your high pitched moans, and Seokmin’s low growls.

He fucks you like he owns you and you live for it. His cock drags along your walls, fills you like he was made for you, hits your sweet spot over and over again as if he’d done this thousand times before.

“Fuck, yes!” You basically scream, your body falling backward, only his strong hands holding you up as he speeds up once more.

“God, shit, how are you so tight, baby?” He moves to kiss your neck, licks over the salty skin, revels in your taste, in the way you shiver under his touch. You wanna scream and cry and mark his body with your mouth and nails - and so you begin to pull on the hem of his shirt, which he gladly helps you to take off completely.

He’s built like a god. Wide shoulders, bulked up arms, abs like they were painted on. You let your nails drag over his torso, finally sliding them to his strong, muscular back. When he pushes into you even more, his lips not getting enough of your own, you dig into his flesh and hear him hiss. Still, he doesn’t stop. If anything, he goes even harder. Fucks you til you scream his name while experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life, milking his cock of all he had, cum filling your pussy to the brim.

After that it spirals.

He fucks you every chance he gets. He is addicted to you and your pussy. Whenever he needs you, he gets to have you.

He bends you over his desk during work hours, drilling into your pussy like a mad man while pressing his hand over your mouth to make sure no one notices. He comes inside you and stuffs it all back in there with his fingers, pulls your panties back up and sends you out to continue your work day as before.

When lunch time comes around, you meet him in the building’s cafeteria and he drags you to the nearest supply closet to fuck your mouth and then your cunt, telling you what a good little slut you are and how well you always take him.

He sends you pictures of his hard cock after work, begging you to come to his place and bounce on him - but you never do. It’s a game for both of you. No fucking outside of work, no dates or anything like that. He gets to keep fucking you and you get to keep your job - easy as that.

Just that… you’re not really bad at your job. Seokmin is slow to figure that one out, you realize.

When your seventh month at the company begins, he is so focused on getting his cock inside of you, he doesn’t even notice you’ve stopped handing off your assignments to your colleagues. You’ve actually grown quite fond of this job and the team - and Seokmin for that matter. Not that you want to admit that to him, or confess that you’ve been playing this part of the dumb girl with the slutty outfits simply to get his attention.

“I love when you get to the office with no panties on, gods, you’re a dirty little whore.” Seokmin’s hands are on your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s sitting on his desk chair, admiring the view of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock. His dirty words make your pussy flutter around him and you whimper, your hands braced on his shoulders.

“Mhmm, only a whore for you, Mr. Lee,” you moan, biting down on your lip. There is no chance you’ll ever grow tired of seeing the way he looks at you when you fuck. His hooded eyes, his red lips dropped open. His cheeks flushed and his hair a mess.

You enjoy being on top, enjoy watching him watch you, setting your own pace until he can’t hold back any longer and wraps his arm around your waist, pushing you down so he can fuck into you at his desired speed.

“That’s right, you’re my whore, your pussy belongs only to me.” He squeezes your ass cheeks and moans when you clench around him again, thrusting his hips up once. You can tell he’s about to lose control, about to hold you down and fuck you senseless. There is nothing quite as hot as Seokmin losing his composure.

Just two days ago, you teased him by being flirty with Soonyoung all day. Seokmin had not thought of himself as possessive, but somehow when it came to you…

Safe to say, he fucked you against his office door two minutes after your last encounter with Soonyoung, simply shoving up your skirt and ripping off your panties, his cock deeply buried inside of you the next second. He fucked you so hard you couldn’t properly walk even the day after.

“Yes, Mr. Lee, my pussy belongs to you, I am yours, Sir.”

You bounce on his cock quicker now, throwing your head back when his hands move to your breasts, taking them both into his hands and cradling them. His fingers press onto your nipples, squeezing them between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and teasing you. With every touch of his, you feel yourself nearing your high.

“You’re so beautiful, always so good for me, isn’t that right?” He breathes out, licking his lips as his eyes are glued to the way your tits look between his hands.

He fucked them a few days ago, your tits. Had you kneeling between his legs, squeezing them together as he fucked his cock between them with the lube he now stored in his bottom drawer. They had felt amazing around him, but nothing compared to your cunt, to its warmth, to its tightness.

“Oh- oh! I’m- I’m gonna come, Mr. Lee! Please, can I come?!” Your orgasm is so close, is ready to crash down on you and when Seokmin moaned out a yes, you let it happen. Waves and waves of pleasure erupt in your body and make you fall forward against his chest, his hips now beginning to thrust up, his moans turning more and more desperate.

“Good girl, such a good girl, fuck- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? Fill you up with my cum, breed you like my own personal whore, hm?”

Your nails dig into his skin desperately as he fucks you fast and hard, his right arm now around your waist, pressing you down while he uses you for his pleasure, crying out your name when he comes - white hot cum landing inside your spent pussy, painting it the colours of his affection for you.

Seokmin fucks both of you through your orgasms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your lips passionately when his hips still. You kiss him back, arms wrapping around his neck, your high still present in your bones.

“You’re perfect,” Seokmin mumbles against your lips and you smile, kissing him again, fingers brushing through his hair.

For a while, you make-out just like that, him still safely buried inside of you, some bits of your combined releases dripping down onto his chair.

Only when Seokmin’s phone rings do the two of you part. You give his cheek a small kiss before climbing off his lap and looking for your underwear, all while you put your dress back into its place. Your boss watches you, wishes he could just do this all over again instead of answering his phone. Reluctantly, he takes the call and watches how you wave at him, panties back on and clothes and shoes back where they belong. He waves back, greeting the business partner on the other line.

And when you leave his office and close the door behind you, when none of your co-workers even pay you any mind, you realize that maybe you like to keep it this way for just a little while longer.

[pshaven]

i found your account through the story of jealous jay... that's really amazing. would you write more for him? 🥹

ahh thank you smm!! ; girl bsf!reader, cunnilingus, implied pnv, enjoooyyyy

jay who just broke up with his girlfriend because she was insecure over you, his girl best friend, easily in his top three favorite women in the entire world.

he’s ranting to you, cheek against the palm of his hand as he tries to put into words how confused he is.

“i don’t get it. she’s— was, my girlfriend. i liked her, that’s why i even dated her in the first place? so why’s she even jealous over you?” he sighs frustratedly, because this is definitely not the first time one of jay’s ex’s broke up with him over him being too close with you.

you don’t really know how to break it to him. you know why the ex’s are all fussy about you, but you also know that if you were to tell jay that he has to distance himself from you, he would never do it.

you’re his favorite girl (other than his mother!). it would be too difficult for him to not hang out with you every other day. hell, he couldn’t imagine living a life without you.

“jay…” you start, placing a comforting hand on his thigh and you feel him tense slightly, “i think that, maybe… we shouldn’t keep seeing each other all the time while you’re dating somebody else.” you finally bite the bullet, but your shoulders still feel heavy.

jay doesn’t say anything for a solid minute. you start to feel even more awkward than you already were before, shifting slightly in your seat on the couch beside him and you begin to remove your hand from his thigh.

and then he scoffs. he shakes his head as if he’s in disbelief. “why does it sound like you’re breaking up with me too?” his tone sounding mean, hurt over that you would think he’d ever let you go.

well, he’ll just have to prove to you that you’re the only girl in his life.

“oh— ah, j-jay hold on!” you squeal, your legs being practically folded in half as your knees meet your chest. jay doesn’t waste any time, his tongue already prodding at your leaking entrance. his pinky finger hooking your ruined panties to the side, not bothering to fully take it off.

“damn,” he curses underneath his breath, the air fanning over your cunt that causes your hips to buck up into nothing. “leaking like you’ve been waiting for this, aren’t you? would’ve never wasted my time with her if i knew you were waiting for me all this time…” he rambles, staring lasers into your clenching cunt.

you whine, hips needlessly pushing towards his face. “stop it…” you say meekly, throwing an arm over your heated face. he tsks, his hand reaching up to remove your arm.

“cover your face again ‘n i’ll tie your hands together,” he says meanly, but his hand thats interlocking yours shows you otherwise.

but that mercy is easily taken away as he dips his head forward, tongue exploring your insides and he groans into you.

with a cry of his name, you writhe and squirm on the couch, your grip on his hand tightening and he reciprocates as well. his thumb caresses the back of your hand, so kindly…

totally opposite of the tongue that’s bullying your entrance and clit, switching back and forth like he’s indecisive on which to focus on more— but he easily solves the issue with a finger slipping inside with ease from your slick.

you start panting, “fuucckk— oh fuck, wa-it,” your voice breaking when jay enters another finger inside you, the stretch already more than what you’re typically used to.

he chuckles at your squirming, not bothering to obey your small pleas and cries for him to slow down. he’s too entranced with your taste, his tongue swirling and toying with your sensitive clit and the way you clench around his fingers? oh, he highly doubts you actually want him to slow down.

jay’s fingers entering in and out of you, the loud squelches of your sloppy cunt making you feel hot and embarrassed, but the overwhelming pleasure makes you dizzy. he pulls away to give your poor clit a small break, but his fingers are still relentless.

“girl, don’t fight me…” he drawls, leaning his face into your neck, peppering wet kisses near your ear. “wanna cum for me?” he whispers so gently, causing your hips to fuck back into his fingers. he groans at this, his voice near your ear making you even more sensitive.

you nod your head earnestly, your free hand grabbing onto his wrist that’s between your legs. “pleaassseeee,” you whine, moving your head to look at him.

he peers up from your neck, a smirk playing on his handsome features that makes you weak. he hums, “my girl wants a kiss?” and you nod again, a cute pout on your lips that he can’t refuse.

bringing his face closer to yours, he meets your lips into a sloppy kiss, your pace already needy and fast, contradicting his originally slow pace. he moans into your kiss, the hard on in his pants getting even more difficult to ignore.

his fingers curl up inside you, your lips parting against jay’s lips, whimpering and moaning loudly as your orgasm suddenly rushes over you. jay responds by kissing you harder, intent on stealing your breath away as you do your best to keep up with his kiss.

“nonono, ahh…” you whimper, your hips twitching from oversensitivity with jay still thrusting his fingers. he laughs softly, pulling his fingers away and giving your cunt a cute pat.

you stare at him with furrowed brows, but you look non-threatening with your chest heaving from catching your breath. “what was that for?!”

jay shrugs, “makin’ sure she can still handle my cock.”