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thebearer · 11 months ago

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love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three

prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.

or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)

contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+

“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically.

Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs.

“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.”

Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off.

“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly.

“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.”

You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it.

“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.”

You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way.

“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.”

You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane.

Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again.

“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them.

“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.”

“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair.

MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?”

Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them.

Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion.

You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy.

Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first.

The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse.

“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.”

Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick.

Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently.

“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time.

Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out.

You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head.

“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I��I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.”

You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying.

Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself.

You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained.

“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap.

Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum.

“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar.

“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…”

Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you.

“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.”

“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion.

“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-”

“-No, no, I swear-”

“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.”

Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined.

“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety.

“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.

“I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing.

“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts.

“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear.

“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto.

“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?”

“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth.

“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale.

“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.”

Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry.

“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-”

“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently.

Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you.

“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again.

“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line.

“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on.

“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.”

You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions.

“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.

“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-”

“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-”

“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing.

“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-”

“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-”

“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand.

Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.”

“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly.

“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.”

“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?”

You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.”

Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.

“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.”

Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.”

Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.”

Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.”

You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.”

Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one.

Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head.

“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.”

“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.”

“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end.

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers.

“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity.

The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others.

Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen.

Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others.

“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans.

“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers.

You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason.

“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.”

You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation.

Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it.

“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely.

You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?”

Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him.

His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console.

Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-”

“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin.

Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss.

“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.”

Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.”

Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded.

Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him.

Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-”

“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”

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tourturestarradio · 10 months ago

Note

could we get nsfw/kink hcs for nami and robin with a dom!male s/o? please and thank you!!!

𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇★

“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

prompt: Nami/Robin X Dom! male reader hc!

Warnings: p in v, oral (fem receiving), spanking, crying, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, praise/degrading, orgasm denial, nipple play,

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

sfw

When you first joined the crew she thought you were gonna be a Sanji 2.0 so she was a little rude/harsh towards you at first.

But once you started to get comfortable she wasn’t as mean but she still treated you like she would anyone else on the crew.

During a serious mission she for sure thought she was a goner, until you swooped in and helped her.

But that doesn’t mean she’s a damsel in distress! So don’t treat her like one!

But after a little while she grew close with you, teasing and flirting with you, she thought it was cute how you reacted.

she’d drag you out to go shopping with her all the time and after prepare to carry all the bags she had.

you were a real sweetheart, a little shy at times, but your looks didn’t help much you were big a muscular scars and a few tattoos scattered around your body.

so it shocked her one night to see a completely different side of you she wished she seen earlier.

Nsfw

She had been poking fun at you all day for a little slip up you had while fighting

At dinner you had got up and left after she had made another jab at you.

Did she feel bad? No. But she didn’t want you to feel bad so she decided to come bother you some more.

she liked to bother you no matter your mood if it meant getting her brains fucked out then so be it

sometimes you were gentle but more often than not you were rough and unforgiving

she loved it when you praised her, but call her a slut, whore, your little slut be mean to her slap her around a little bit

“Finally! Took you long enough!” She sighed rolling her eyes, You stared down at her “here to make another joke Nami?” You asked, she chuckled “you know me too well~” she said nudging your arm.

However you sighed just wanting to go to sleep, Nami didn’t catch onto that. Well she did she just didn’t care.

“What’s the matter? Still upset about what I said M/n?” She smirked, you didn’t answer prompting her to lean closer giving you a good view of her cleavage, “aww big boys got no words-“ without warning you pulled her into your room slamming the door shut you pressed her up against it.

“What the?! hey!-“ she hushed when she saw your usually bright eyes looming down at her, your arms caging her in. She chuckled knowing she was getting to you “yaknow M/n you look kinda hot like this, all serious” She stated leaning close to you.

Her chest pressed right up against yours, she opened her mouth to speak again but you placed your hand over her mouth “Nami, for once in your life to close that pretty mouth of yours.”

Oh…your voice sent shivers down her spine going straight to her core, she pressed her thighs together causing you to raise a brow a smirk growing on your face.

Your hands made there way to her waist “oh? You like when I talk to you like that?” You asked, her face grew hot as she looked away “what! No!” She gasped feeling you smack her ass “no lying pretty girl.” She bit her lip looking away.

You cocked your head to the side “now who’s the silent one?” You tease, “I-!” Just as she went to fire back she went wide eyed feeling you press a kiss a against her lips.

Almost instantly she melted into it, hooking your arm under her legs you lifted her up carrying her over to your bed.

Your hands roamed over her body, breaking the heated kiss you moved down her neck. Kissing and biting along her neck, she let out tiny whimpers, she moved her hand in between her legs but you had stopped her.

“That’s my job pretty girl.” You stated carefully sliding off her clothes soaking her up “wow” She closed her legs shouting “stop staring!” Laughing you apologized, carefully you glided your hands to her thighs spreading them apart.

Pressing kisses against her thighs she blushed “so wet and I didn’t even do anything to you” you muttered dragging your thumb up her folds. She stumbled over her words “s-shut up!” However she was quickly hushed when she felt you take a lick up her pussy.

“A-A warning would’ve been nice M/n!” You glanced up at her “my bad.” Once again you licked at her pussy placing her legs on your shoulders. Her moans filled the room as she gripped at your hair.

You were surprisingly good at this? She jolted when she felt your fingers press into her slowly, “h-hey slow d-ahh! Down a bit” she moaned.

You pushed your fingers in and out as you licked up her juices, your tongue flicking skillfully in her.

You pulled your mouth and fingers away causing her to groan, “don’t worry you’ll be fine.” Sliding off your clothes, Nami gulped “oh…” you were a lot bigger than she thought.

“Nami you’re staring” you teased, she hesitantly pulled her eyes away you pressed another kiss onto her lips whiling pulling open your drawer next to your bed you poured some on your cock.

holding Nami’s legs open you pushed into her slowly her eyes widened and she gripped onto your shoulders her nails digging into your flesh.

Breaking the kiss she moaned “ah!~ M/n ngh~“ she moaned burrying her face into your neck. You chuckled “I’ll go slow just relax okay?” You hummed.

The more you pushed into her the louder her whines and moans got. You slowly began to thrust in and out “a-ahh! Hah~ Faster!” She groaned tossing her head back.

You picked up the pace fucking into her pretty pussy low groans leaving your mouth “fuck baby. You feel so good.” You praised, she clenched around your cock. so she liked it when you praised her? Cute.

Placing one of her legs up on your shoulders you thrusted in and out her eyes rolling back tears brimming in her eyes “o-oh fuck~” her moans were so cute.

“g-gonna cum!~” she whined, you chuckled wiping the tears from her cheeks, her moans rung out through your room. She clenched around you gripping your sheets, so so close but her sweet release was stopped.

her head shot up staring at you “wh-why’d y-you stop?” She glared, you laughed “you really thought I was gonna let you cum that easy? After how you’ve been acting?” You hummed.

Nami flopped back whining knowing she was in for a loooooong night.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

sfw

When Robin met you, you were very suspicious of her reasonably so, but you really didn’t trust her

Eyeing her up and down every time she got too close, Luffy tried to get you to be a little nicer to her but you stayed away

it took a while but you grew to like Robin, maybe she wasn’t as bad as you thought, you’d ask her about history and would hang on her every word genuine interest filling your eyes

she liked you, you were awkward but sweet. It was cute seeing you interact with the others and her

she loved it when she could tell you interesting fact about the past, you called her your study buddy

she was comfortable a with you but she wouldn’t share much with you not wanting to get too close with you for reasons

even though she didn’t mind being close with you she still a little bad about making you care so much about her

Nsfw

Her first time with you was so nerve wracking she liked you but she was so scared for some reason

you reassured her carefully, your touch was so gently and kisses were soft. You took good care of her that night, she kept those marks you lefts hidden from the rest of the clue well most of them Nami spotted it and gave her a devious smile safe to say Nami still bothers Robin about it

After that every now and then you and Robin would fool around, but every time she would shy away from making any noise

And she would avoid looking at herself which irritated you, sooner or later you were going to stop her from doing that

she didn’t mind it if you degraded her but! Don’t do it a lot she liked to be praised more it made her a little more good about herself

you always thought it was cute how she blushed when you praised her or how her eyes would wander when you took off your clothes

“Robin why so shy? I’ve already seen every inch of you.” You asked rubbing her hips, she looked away “no, no, no, look at you baby. So pretty for me” you hummed kissing her neck. She looked at herself “just don’t like looking at myself is all…” she muttered turning her head away from her reflection.

You glared lightly holding her chin turning her head towards the mirror as your other hand slowly spread her legs “Robin, baby I need you to look.” She stared at herself then at you. Pressing kisses along her neck and shoulder “look at you…so pretty.” You hummed.

Your fingers rubbing circles onto her puffy slit, she moaned quietly holding onto your hand, tilting her head back she kissed your lips her cheeks red.

You pulled your hands away, bringing your hand up to her lips she took two fingers in her mouth, you could feel your boner growing harder as you looked into the mirror, you other hand cupped her breast fondling them.

As her tongue danced around your fingers you could feel yourself growing antsy, pulling your fingers out of her mouth you pushed them into her petty pussy she clenched around your fingers as a moan left her mouth.

Your free hand pinched and twisted her sensitive buds “s-so good, feels so good M/n…” she whimpered, you pecked her on the lips “you’re not slick Robin baby.”

Tilting her head back she jolted feeling you smack her thigh “every time you look away you get punished” you hummed thrustings your fingers in and out.

Robin moaned keeping her eyes trained on the mirror placed in front of Your bed “this i-is so hah!~ lewd” she muttered, you chuckled “good.”

your thrusts getting more intense as Robin gripped onto your wrist “I-I’m close…” she mumbled, closing her eyes for a moment before they snapped open again another smack was sent to her thigh.

Biting her lip she bucked her hips forward “that’s it baby come on you can do it…” you muttered in her ear, going down to her neck you began to suck on her neck.

She gripped into you tightly “c-cuming! Please l-let me a-ah! Please” she begged, aww how cute “of course gorgeous”

Just like that she released all over your fingers her breathing heavy.

“Good girl, such a good girl just for me” you smiled kissing her lips. You looked back feeling hands all over your body pulling back onto the soft sheets.

Robin climbed on top of you “more…please?” Your smile grew even wider “of course baby.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n:hope you enjoyed!!!!! Have a good day/night!!!!!

#nico robin #nami x reader #sub one piece #one piece x reader #dom male reader #robin x reader #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #sub female #sub character #one piece #straw hat pirates #one piece nami #one piece robin #fanfic #smut #one piece smut

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multiwreckedmess · 7 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 28

Prompt: Cockbulge Pairing: idol!Mingi x costumer!Reader WC: 4k Summary: It’s not that you’re a prude, you just want to make sure Mingi knows that everyone can see everything when he wears those velvet pants. Unfortunately for you, he likes it that way.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Mingi or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

Additional TW/CW under the cut.

TW/CW: Reader is described with fem sex characteristics, Mingi has a big dick, sort of painful sex, drunk sex, adversarial sex, both parties are into it. Mingi is a bit of an egotistical shit. Cumming inside. Oral (m receiving). Unrealistic bulging.

potential writing pet peeve warning - i try to write drunk slurring into the dialogue seewwwww. yeah.

It was apparent to you that no one had ever talked to Mingi about the importance of a dance belt. Sitting in the darkness of the audience as the boys lined up for their costume checks, the lines of his “little Mingi” pressing against the lush baby blue velvet interrupted the flow of the fabric. You jot down on the yellow legal pad “ask manager-nim to talk to the boys about proper undergarments.”

Cornering Mingi alone is a process that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. He’s a social butterfly, always entertaining himself by chatting with one person or another. Traveling in a pack or duo no matter where he went. The clock was ticking and you could feel each second pulse deep in your chest. Donning a measuring tape and tucking a pencil behind your to look more official you finally screw up the nerve to grab him from the hallway into the dressing room. “Mingi! I just need a quick second from you, if you can. Privately?” Smiling, you try to look nonchalant in front of the two others in his current circle. The man sticks out his lower lip in an over dramatic pout but as your face remains neutral he gives into the request quickly. “Why in private, miss?” Mingi asks, dressing room door snapping shut with a swift click. You clear your throat and try to be anywhere but here, in this moment. “What do you know about dance belts Mingi?” He blinks a couple times and pouts. “Aren’t they like…thongs that squeeze your junk?” The tone of his voice matches the distaste that crosses his face. “Well, kind of. They don’t have to be thongs but-” you stutter, searching for your next move. Mingi continues to look at you, expression blank as he waits for you to collect yourself. “You know you have a nice body right?” He nods. “Really nice long-” you choke and rethink the approach again. “-trench coats look on you. I mean most things do. But. You see- when you dance and sometimes when you stand and really it’s probably just the lights but for me-” you shake your head. No not for you. “-for an experiment have you ever thought or considered wearing one?” “One what?” Mingi looks as lost and confused as your babbling. “The velvet pants. We can see it.” “It?” “Your…your penis, Mingi, we can damn near trace every vein for some reason. Can you please wear a dance belt?” Mingi smirks. Cocking an eyebrow at you as the heat of embarrassment strangles you. “Did you like the show, miss?” He bites at the skin of his lower lip, eyes flitting from your stunned face to his crotch. Weight shifting back onto his heels, you realize just how tall he is, even standing relaxed like this. “Mingi I- oh my god- can you just wear one?” He nods with some consideration, “do I have a choice?” “Obviously, it’s your underwear.” “Then no.”

Mingi watches you through the dressing room mirror even as the makeup artist drags pink lipstain over his lush lips. As soon as he’s done with makeup he starts palming himself through the velvet pants. Letting his cock chub up and strain further against the fabric. Now that he knew that it was seen, he had to be sure that he was fully ready for the show. He studies your face as the heel of his palm pushes against the shaft, watching you glare back through the glass, challenging his gaze. He likes that you’re watching him, even if it’s with disdain. The subtle touch isn’t enough to get him fully anywhere, but still it twitches in interest.

You continue to glare as he rises from his chair and sidles over to you. Side bag full with a mini kit strapped to your hip, you glance around the room. Everyone else is too busy with their own preparations to notice the tension growing between the two of you as the distance decreases. Remaining seated in your folding chair you refuse to jolt up to attention, no matter how much your legs want to. “I’m assuming you need me to stitch you in?” Searching your bag for the needle already threaded with the matching powder blue of his pants. All in the name of preserving the carefully tucked hem of the shirt as the artist danced on stage. “Last thing I have to do.” It doesn’t escape Mingi that you’ve been pointedly looking anywhere but below the belt on him as your fingers carefully pluck the fabric of his shirt and pants together. .“Haven’t you wondered how big it is? I assume you’ve thought about it if you’ve been looking.”

“I try not to actually-” you mean to explain how you try to not look at him that way, anywhere near that way, that it was actually him who was making it more difficult for you to not look there. Instead he interrupts you with a smile. “So you do think about my cock. Noted.” He’s slick and cocky. “Mingi that’s not what I-” part of you wants to stab him with your needle. “Thanks for telling me about these pants,” he nods down at you, “gives me time to make sure I look good from all angles.” You can’t hold the exaggerated roll of your eyes. Close like this you can almost see the veins running up it, its almost comically large in comparison to his muscular frame. “As long as it still fits-” you start to sigh, alluding to the obvious compression of the fabric. “I’ve always been able to make it fit.” He drops it so nonchalantly, winking with his tongue out. Sitting there frozen, your cheeks heat up, a loud gulp echoing through your fuzzy skull. Okay so maybe you want him. Maybe his cocksuredness had won you over despite how stupidly audacious he was. EIther way you were completely embarrassed and kneeling eye level with his bulge. At this angle, you start to understand why people of all genders throw themselves at this massive loser of a man. At this angle he looks more massive than loser. You cough and resume your work, averting your eyes as much as you can Was he even wearing underwear? The thought enrages you for a second, getting ball sweat on his fucking costume. That second of rage is enough for you to channel that flicker into a particularly pointed jab through the fabric and into your finger. “Fuck-cock-shit-” you swear and suck your wounded digit, scowling at nothing in particular. Mingi’s hand wraps around your arm and lifts you from your knees. A sudden caring gesture from the giant. “Is it ok?” “Yeah, it’s good luck to get costumer’s blood on your outfit anyway,” you mutter. Still scowling down at the pearl of blood you push to the surface to gingerly stick the finger back in your mouth. He didn’t need luck. You did. Hiccuping your way down the hall of the hotel the company had reserved the golden numbers listed on the doors blur together. Exhaustion and drunkness threaten to consume your legs from underneath you as the walls sway. Your roommate had left the afterparty earlier than you, assuming that you wouldn’t self sabotage. That was her mistake. When the drinks are free and the next day is taken up by airports and hotels, there was no reason for you to stay remotely sober. Not with the hard road ahead of you. You fully lean against the wall as you rummage through your tote bag. Fucking needed to replace it. No pockets. It was a black hole which ate all it came in contact with. You start patting your body. You must’ve put your keycard somewhere. You lightly tap on the door to no response. Knocking harder still you hear someone say to come in. A man. Which is strange but maybe not that strange? You knock again. Clad in the hotel branded bathrobe and fisting a can of beer your eyes meet the chest of…not your roommate. You start your slurred apology before the person tugs you into the room. “Are you crazy? Do you know what time it is? We’re both going to get in trouble.” Blinking to clear your vision you stop apologizing long enough to look up into the face of Song Mingi. His skin is freshly washed and pink, chest bare beneath the robe. “Yer the one who pull’d me’in here,” you slur. “You’re lucky that I’m the door you knocked on. It could’ve been much worse.” It’s impossible to control your burst of laughter, loud and punchy. “Worse? Yeeer the guy whoz been TORMENTING me with his dick. Every day it’s just- dick and cock.” Poor Mingi, who’d been sipping the dregs of his beer, nearly spits the rest to the floor as the words leave your mouth. This tiny thing rambling drunkenly about his member in a fit of rage is immediately hilarious to him. “I knew it. I knew you wanted to fuck me” “Asssssss if,” you sneer. “It’s just morbid curiosity. Nothing more. You’re like a-a-a-well something you can’t look away from thats just so repulsive it’s like- I want to-need to stare.” Mingi fully laughs, his eyes turning into little crescents as he fights tears of pure joy. “Do you want to just look? I have no problem showing you.” “Whaddya mean,” you stare at him crossly, leaning forward to try to look intimidating. “Don’tcha think I’ve seen bigger?” Biting the corner of his bottom lip he glances down his loosely drawn robe. Holding the can of beer suggestively close to himself he looks meaningfully back up into your eyes. “You have to ask. Won’t do anything without you asking for it.” Now or never. Do or die. The liquid courage coursing in your veins the next words out of your mouth should feel like more of a mistake than they do. “Alright, if yerr soooo proud of it. Show it.” Mingi’s robe parts just down to his belly button. His body is naturally nice, not especially built but made of lean dancer muscle. Still keeping just the little bit of softness that makes you want to wrap yourself around him and- “What do you want me to show exactly?” He bites his lip and grins. The fucker. You roll your eyes back at him and swat at his stomach, “your fucking dick you dick. Show me before I get bored and leave.” His lip bounces free of his teeth. Fuck, you want to kiss him and ride him til he cries. The twist of anticipation tightens in your gut not even daring to look where his hands travel down. You can see his muscles tense as he undoes the knot in the belt. “You’re not even looking,” he watches you intently as the belt goes slack. Your chest rises and falls with quickened nervous breaths. Eyes darting everywhere but there as your tough facade shakes. Mingi steps closer, it’s easier to avoid looking now that his body is almost touching yours. The warmth rolls off of him, his hand finding yours. “Wanna touch first?” You nod, letting him place your hand up square on top of his sternum. His heart beats fast under your fingers. Or maybe you’re still feeling your own. Trailing down the smooth expanse slowly, his mouth hung loosely open as he breathes, letting you take your time. “‘S hot,” you mutter, unaware your inner monologue had leaked out. “We can do something about that.” “Yeah, okay.” Mingi’s hips press into yours and he pulls you by your belt loops back into his room with him. Your addled brain screams curses in as many languages as you can summon as his extremely obvious bulge presses against your stomach. He’s actually fucking huge. He wasn’t bluffing or stuffing or exaggerating in the slightest. He smirks listening to your gasp as you waddle to the bed, still connected at the hips. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mingi tugs you over his thighs letting you do the towering for once as he leans back on his elbows. “You can’t say anything about this.” “Same to you, dickwad,” you spit back quickly. “If I catch you bragging to anyone, I’ll sew your inseam so fucking high-” Mingi laughs, “are you giving me the NDA speech?” “Abso-fucking-lutely,” you place your hand on his chest to steady yourself as you wind your hips. The bulge below you feels like heaven. “Ah! Shit-jeans-off-,” Mingi chokes back a whine, “please. Hurts-” He looks like a rockstar, robe sprawled open and cock throbbing caged in his black boxer-briefs. Once you’ve looked at it you can’t stop staring. The seams of his underwear fit snugly around his thighs as his length strains against the fabric. The elastic of the waistband barely hangs on as his cock continues to grow. “God yer fuckin’ huge,” your mouth waters as you stumble, jeans getting stuck at your ankles, hand steadying you on his thigh. “Yeah, I know. You scared?” He asks, eyes half lidded. He almost sounds hopeful. “Issa trick oftha ligh’ errr…the stitching.” You fumble through loose excuses. He really can’t win this early, you curse your drunk tongue for letting the words slip. “Touch it then, scaredy cat.” Defiant look in your eye, your fingers skim his quads. His eyes close and brow furrows as you get closer and closer. He’s trying to hold back but the twitch of his hips betrays him, small choked whine catching in his throat. It’s hard to contain your devilish grin as you palm him and feel it throb against you. “Now ‘o can’ look, scaredy cat. Imma ride yew wouldn’ surVIVE.”

Mingi’s abs kick in as he tenses. “Why are you like this? Can’t you just admit it. I won.” ‘Yer gunna cum in yer fucking boxers. Issat really winning?” For added measure you lean over and press your lips to the stretched fabric. Mingi lets a pained noise out of his nose, chest heaving. “Do it again.” You make a show of it, pulling the fabric taut as you kiss up the length of the bulge. Its difficult to see much as you look upwards, more for the effect than the ability, but you can gauge his reaction by the way his thighs tense at your sides. A sick satisfaction wraps itself around your neck, this man who has only been trouble for you writhing in your grasp. The veins running up his lengths pulse prominently against your lips as you kiss the clothed lump again. Mingi’s toes tap rapidly in frustration. “Please.” You want him to beg louder. As uncomfortable as it is you drag your tongue up the fabric listening to his reedy breaths. Fingers looping behind the elastic waistband of his underwear you tug it down his hips letting the excess catch over the head of his dick. A small dark patch forms as his hips buck up into your face, into the cloth. His pleas come out in muffled consonants caught, bitten, between his lips. Mingi pants. “I need-pleasepleaseplease-hurts-”

In a single swift tug you free his cock, springing back up against his stomach with a thwack. Pink tip turned an angry red, it continues to leak as you salivate over it. Fantastically thick, veiny, and tapered neatly it takes two of your hands to wrap around the length and hold it up. “See?” He huffs triumphantly. “‘M big.” “-hands jus’ small.” You spit onto his length and pump it. “‘Ve seen bigger.” A lie. Your lips curve around the tip, barely taking the first quarter of him into your mouth before you give up, cheeks ballooning comically. Mingi angles his cock to hit the inside of your cheek, watching the swell and cave as he thrusts upwards to meet you. He likes to see how taut he can make it. Your spit leaks down and around him, onto your small fists working the substantial amount of him that can’t fit into your mouth. “You think you can take me?” The words were meant to be a challenge but sound more hopeful as they leave his mouth. Wordlessly you rise from the floor to straddle him, his hands wandering your body, drinking in as much as they can take. Groping and moaning you rut against each other, slicking up his length with your release. “Wanna see how big I can stretch you baby. Think I can make that cute lil tummy bulge? Think you can take all of me? God, I wanna see you try.” His hands squeeze your ass and thighs, squishing the flesh between his fingers. You lean backwards, wedging the head of his cock against your tight entrance. The spongy tip just barely disappears into your slit, Mingi takes the perverse pleasure of watching you wince as it pops in and out of your tight ring of muscle. “That’s just the tip and you’re already tapping out?” He goads.

Determined, you slide forward more and take more of him, sucking air through your teeth. Your folds strain to accommodate him, ridges and veins throbbing as you try to stuff more of him into your stretched walls. They throb, he throbs back. Mingi’s thumb rubs circles over your clit almost as an apology of sorts. “‘M not done,” you grit your teeth defiantly. “I c’n take more.” The second he sees your jaw drop in silent pain he grabs your by your hips to hold you aloft. Concern washes through his body. Most people at this point tapped out, about three quarters of the way down, really any farther than half was just for show. There’s no point but pride. Besides that the sight of your folds wrapped snugly around him, juices dripping down towards the base, is enough to have his head cottony. It was really even enough for him to just watch it go in, you could’ve tapped out at the tip and he’d have been satisfied just to see you struggle with that much of him.

The alcohol has definitely done its job to cloud your discomfort as you roll and rock your hips to coax yourself the rest of the way down. Finally relaxing your burning thighs as you sit on your throne, gravity aids you in fitting him fully inside. “Ahhhoohhhh my god,” Mingi moans, nearly blacking out from the spike in blood pressure. He’s desperate not to cum now. To finish now would be akin to admitting defeat, admitting a lack of mastery over his body. His chest caves with a tense exhale. “You’re so fucking tight. I’ve gotta be the biggest you’ve ever had.” As much as you also don’t want to lose, it’s hardly in your capacity at this very moment to bluff. Your walls spasming around him is betrayal enough, much less your hand sneaking down to feel where he stretches you. “I c’n feel you,” you say in wonder with your hand over the slight distension in your pelvis. “Yer jus’ toting this thing around?” “Oh fuck-yeah.” It’s not meant to be an answer to your question. He’s biting his lower lip to keep himself focused as you gyrate. No matter how wet you are, the vice grip your cunt has on him as you slide yourself back and forth has him grasping at the edges of insanity. Part of him wants to tell you to just use him, treat yourself. The other part is feels the primal urge, the singular goal, to fuck you so hard he leaves a lasting impression no other man could fill. Without thinking his hands migrate to your waist, bruising grip egging on your winding ministrations. Legs weak and wobbly already you collapse forward and brace yourself, both hands on the headboard. This obscures the view of his own cock spearing you just enough to reverse the stun locked man into action. Holding you in place his hips jut up into you, each thrust punching out more air from your lungs until you're barely able to hold yourself up. “Mingi, mingi, MINGI. Holy shit- holy fuck- listen-oh fuck-” legs shaking so violently you can barely hold the rest of your body together, the spring inside you snaps violently back into place. Sparkling sobriety hits for a second before a cockdrunken wanton fog settles in the space the drink had left.

Mingi is smooth with the transition to fucking you, he has extra length to work with. You feel almost seasick as you spin back into the cushiony mattress, unsure of how your legs ended up in the air with your muscles suddenly getting to relax. “You wanna know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he asks through gritted teeth. Slowly he drags his length along your walls, pushing your shirt up to see the small bulge he makes in your lower stomach. “God I’m going to fucking enjoy taking you apart like this.” “Oh my god, Mingi-” you whine, clasping your hands over your burning face, embarrassed at how good he’s making you feel. He bats your arms to the side and pointedly rolls his hips again. “No, you’ve been such a bitch to me this whole tour, I wanna see you with a smile on your face.” Your eyes roll back and he thrusts deeper, the force driving your hips higher up into the air. “Oh fuck me- Mingi-” “Tell me how big I am.” “God damn it, you’re fucking big.” “How big?” His hips drive the point home, your stomach bulging. “I’m the biggest you’ve had, right?” His cock bruises your gut, punching up into you like the monster he is. The threads of sanity that you cling to pull apart with each drag back. To add insult to injury, he doesn’t even watch your expression any more, eyes locked to your lips stretched around him, sucking him back into your velvety walls. “Yeah, fuck, okay. The biggest. Fuck me. Oh I can feel you.” You practically gurgle as he fully sheathes himself again. Mingi pats the protrusion of your stomach as he keeps his hips tight to yours, rutting into his own palm through you. Your warm wet heat feels delicious wrapped around him. There was a world somewhere where he could afford to be totally obsessed with this, with you. You shiver and clamp around him again, knees pinching his hips. “Did you just cum again?” Eyes half closed you nod. “That’s hot.” “Don’ stop. Please.”

Normally rebellious to your requests, Mingi follows this one to a tee. Holding your hips in his massive hands he pulls them up even more, almost stacking on top of you. With the change of angle he’s perfectly positioned to piston into you unimpeded. The tip of his dick slamming straight into your frontal wall as you choke on your own breaths. The world spins as your oxygen dwindles and alcohol remnants drown your inhibitions. Chanting his name like the crowds do nightly you shake. Your climax hits the both of you like a train. Mingi can’t hold himself back, your tight walls milking him as they pulse and pull him. “Ah shit, oh fuck,” he swears as his hips slam forward, unable to turn off his primal impulse to sink as far into you as physically possible. Pumping you full he’s near to passing out from a combination of lust and exhaustion. Lowering your legs and then himself, his head rests on the bed next to yours, it’s almost peaceful, almost. “Iffyou tell a soul eye’ll hem yer pants a centimeter short you big bastard. Mingi lets out a single puff of a chuckle. “Eyejusss need’d to blowoff steam. ‘Kay? One. Time. Thing.” He’s only half listening as he closes his eyes and yields into your softness. Maybe one time thing. Maybe.

#ateez smut #atz smut #ateez kinktober #ateez mingi smut #mingi smut #song mingi smut #kpop smut #kpop kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2024

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starsinthesky5 · 6 days ago

Note

How does Joe tell Songbird she is beautiful and vice versa?

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

they don’t always need the word. not when so much is already said in the way they look at each other.

joe tells her she’s beautiful without ever needing to say the word. it’s in the way he touches her—slow, reverent, like he’s afraid he’ll bruise something precious. he kisses her shoulders when she’s brushing her teeth. presses his mouth to the crease between her brows when she’s tired or thinking too hard. runs his knuckles down her cheek just to feel the softness there. he tucks her hair behind her ear even when it doesn’t need to be, just to get a better look at her face. calls her his “pretty girl” under his breath when she’s curled up on the couch, in sweats, face bare, half-asleep against his shoulder. and when she’s dressed up for a red carpet or a show or a dinner out, he goes silent for a beat. just stares. jaw slack, smile blooming slow. he reaches for her hand without realizing it. kisses the inside of her wrist like it’s instinct. he might mutter something low, like you’re gonna kill me, but what he really means is you take my breath away and you don’t even try.

he notices everything. compliments the things she forgets matter. tells her he loves the curve of her collarbone, the way her nose scrunches when she laughs, the little scar near her elbow from when she fell off her bike as a kid. when she’s feeling self-conscious, when her hair won’t do what she wants, when she frowns at her reflection, he doesn’t rush to contradict her. he just steps behind her, wraps his arms around her waist, and looks at her through the mirror until she softens. sometimes he just whispers, i wish you could see you the way i do. and sometimes he doesn’t say anything at all. just holds her face in his hands and kisses her until she believes it.

and she tells him with her touch, too. when she runs her fingers through his curls, not to fix them but to feel them. when she pulls him in by the jersey after a game and rests her forehead against his like she’s coming home, like he’s the safest place she knows. she’ll kiss the scar on his knee and the space between his brows and call it part of the masterpiece. she smooths her hand over his chest when he’s bare and sleepy and tells him to stop flexing, even though he’s not. he’s just built like that, and she knows it.

she looks at him like she’s memorizing him. like she’s afraid the moment will slip away if she blinks. her gaze has weight, a kind of warmth that burns slow and sweet. she looks at him when he’s not paying attention—when he’s hunched over watching tape, when he’s rubbing the bridge of his nose after a long day, when he’s stretching his fingers in his lap without thinking. and when he is paying attention? when their eyes meet across a room or across a bed or across a dinner table, there’s a softness in hers that speaks louder than words. like she sees right through all the armor and into the boy who still gets nervous before big games. she doesn’t need to say he’s beautiful—he sees it in the way her expression shifts the moment he enters a room. like everything brightens. like he’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, and she doesn’t care who knows it.

she tells him he’s beautiful when she drags her nails lightly down his spine after a shower, when she leaves lipstick on his jaw and doesn’t wipe it off. she tells him when she walks past him in the kitchen and lets her fingers drift across his lower back, just to make him shiver. when she sings just for him—quiet and close and breathy into the collar of his hoodie—he feels it in his bones.

they tell each other without saying a word. in glances and touches, in sighs and silence. in the way they hold each other after long days and the way their hands always find each other in a crowd. in those tiny, tender moments that say you’re everything. and they don’t need to say it out loud to believe it.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #yail asks #yail #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic

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valiwrites · 7 months ago

Note

hi, hiii! I see you haven't gotten any requests for my ultimate fave, Pedri, so could you do like, lazy mornings with him? Thank youuuu!

yay! finally someone requests fav player 🫦

JUST US

pairing: pedri gonzalez x reader

type: fluff

warnings: none

MASTERLIST

<><><><><><><><>

The first thing you noticed was the warm, familiar weight of Pedri’s arm draped over your waist, his face nestled against your shoulder. The room was still dim with early morning light, and everything felt soft, peaceful—the world hadn’t quite woken up yet, and neither had the two of you.

You shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, but even the smallest movement was enough to make him stir. His grip tightened around you, pulling you closer. “Where do you think you’re going?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

You laughed softly, brushing a few stray curls from his forehead. “I wasn’t going anywhere, promise.”

“Good,” he whispered, his voice a warm murmur against your skin. He buried his face in your neck, pressing a sleepy kiss there. “Stay right here.”

You didn’t need much convincing. With a sigh, you settled back into his embrace, letting yourself relax into the warmth of him. Everything felt so calm, his steady breathing, the softness of the sheets, the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back. These quiet mornings together were a rare luxury, and you couldn’t help but savor every second.

After a few minutes, Pedri stretched beside you, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he blinked up at you, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “Good morning,” he murmured, reaching to brush his thumb over your cheek.

“Morning,” you replied, mirroring his smile. You leaned in, brushing a soft kiss over his lips, which he gladly returned, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck.

Neither of you was in any rush to get up, so you just lay there together, tangled up in each other, sharing quiet, sleepy conversations and occasional, soft kisses. Pedri’s fingers traced gentle patterns along your arm as he talked about his week, about upcoming games, about whatever little things popped into his mind. You listened, nodding along, soaking up the sound of his voice and the little moments you rarely got to experience when life got busy.

“Is it crazy,” he murmured, his eyes drifting to yours, “that I wish every morning could be like this? Just… you and me, nowhere to be.”

“Not crazy at all,” you replied, snuggling closer, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. “I’d love it if we could just pause time sometimes, you know? Just freeze the world and stay right here.”

He smiled, brushing his fingers through your hair, letting them rest at the nape of your neck. “I’d do it in a heartbeat if I could.”

Eventually, his stomach growled, making both of you laugh. “Guess we can’t stay in bed forever,” he said, sitting up reluctantly. But even as he tried to get up, his hands still lingered on your arm, almost as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go just yet.

You finally made it to the kitchen, where he started clumsily gathering ingredients, determined to make breakfast. “I’ll handle the eggs,” he announced proudly, grabbing the carton from the fridge. “You just sit there and look cute.”

You laughed, watching as he cracked eggs into the pan, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. It was a little chaotic—he fumbled a bit, muttering under his breath whenever he dropped something, but you loved watching him. There was something incredibly endearing about seeing him so relaxed, so unguarded, just him in his sweats, cooking for you with that messy hair and that sweet smile.

Finally, he turned around, holding two plates, his face lighting up when he saw you waiting there. “Told you I could handle breakfast,” he said, setting the plate down in front of you with a proud grin.

You took a bite, nodding in approval. “I’d say you did pretty well,” you teased, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Guess I’ll keep you around.”

Pedri chuckled, his arm sliding around your shoulders as he pulled you close, resting his head against yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And as the two of you sat there in the soft morning light, wrapped up in each other, you felt nothing but warmth and peace, knowing that, for now, he was right where you both wanted to be.

#football #football x oc #football x reader #football x y/n #football x you #pedri gonzalez x you #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #pedrito #barcelona spain #barcelona x reader #fc barcelona

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mirokata · 1 year ago

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me fr

I think I might be genderfluid???

I don't really know, but I've noticed sometimes I feel like a plain regular woman and sometimes I'm like... I wanna be a boy? But I wanna keep looking really girly, so like... a femboy???

And it's so weird, cause like, I'm already a girl, who looks like a girl, why would I want to be a boy who looks like a girl???

#I wanna strut in heels the way drag queens do #I wanna slay in a skirt but not as a girl because when I perceive myself as a girl in a #skirt I can start to feel gender dysphoric #but sometimes I still do anyway #I wanna vogue dance like a dance king but not a woman #I wanna get a binder #but I don’t know if I’d wear it everyday #sometimes I press my chest when I see it in the mirror and wish for top surgery #sometimes doing that comes with strong emotions #sometimes it doesn’t sometimes I really am content being in my own femenine body #sometimes when I feel ‘normal’ I start to invalidate myself #but I’m very much genderfluid and always has been #genderfluid #queer #lgbtqia+#gender

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stawbeemilk · 1 year ago

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⤷ insecurities they think are beautiful – hq

✩ characters: various

✩ warnings: none

✩ a/n: my first post eek! this is pretty self-indulgent shdjsj but i hope it makes someone else feel a little better about themselves as well ◡̈ enjoy!

⭑ stretch marks

he literally thinks they're so pretty, and can't understand why you'd even be self-conscious about them in the first place— as far as he's concerned they only make you even more beautiful. nothing makes his heart ache more than seeing you pulling down your shorts or skirt in an attempt to hide the pretty marks residing on your thighs. he likes to trace over them when the two of you are cuddling, fingertips grazing over each mark adorning your skin while his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration, hoping that in time you'll start to appreciate them just as much as he does.

⤷ bokuto, sugawara, goshiki, inuoka, koganegawa, washio, kita, aran

⭑ hip dips

he often finds himself staring at your hips, unable to take his eyes off them— it doesn't help if you're wearing something a little tighter than usual that hugs your figure in all the right ways. the last thing he wants is for you to feel as if he's judging you, but he doesn't miss the way you subconsciously try to hide yourself from his gaze whenever you notice his eyes wandering and he swears he feels his heart shatter a little more each time. if he catches you looking at your body in the mirror for a particularly long time, he'll come over to you and rest his hands on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze as he looks at your reflection with a tender smile.

⤷ iwaizumi, suna, yamaguchi, akaashi, aone, semi, sakusa

⭑ soft tummy

in his eyes, your tummy is just the cutest thing, and he sometimes has a hard time keeping his hands off you. he likes to randomly come up behind you when you're just going about your day, hands wrapping around your waist before discreetly slipping underneath your shirt to squish the soft flesh. after a long day, the only thing he wants is to come home to you and rest his head on your tummy while you play with his hair— and usually, that's exactly what he does. with the way he presses his lips against your skin and nuzzles into you, it's hard to feel insecure around him as it's so obvious how much he adores you.

⤷ osamu, yamamoto, komi, matsukawa, daichi, kai, futakuchi

⭑ imperfect teeth

he absolutely loves your smile, it's one of his favourite things about you. it was one of the first things he noticed about you when the two of you met, and it still makes his heart flutter just as much as it did back then— nothing breaks his heart more than seeing you erupt with laughter without a care in the world, only to hide the lower half of your face behind your hand a few seconds later. he won't hesitate to grab hold of your wrist, gently prying your hand away and granting him a full view of your cute smile. who cares if it isn't entirely perfect? it only makes him adore you even more, and he wishes you could see what he sees.

⤷ fukunaga, kuroo, hanamaki, nishinoya, konoha, hoshiumi, komori

⭑ small chest

he honestly doesn't even understand why you don't like them. he's not trying to invalidate your feelings or anything, he just… doesn't get it. whenever you express any sort of insecurity regarding your chest size, his response is always “but there's nothing wrong with them?” because he genuinely thinks you're perfect just the way you are. he encourages you to wear tighter or lower cut tops that accentuate your chest, and won't hesitate to let you know how pretty you look, feeling his heart flutter when he sees you smile bashfully and grow a little more confident from his words. likes to tell you that when he hugs you it just means your hearts are closer together <3

⤷ yaku, oikawa, kunimi, tendou, hinata, kenma, atsumu, hirugami

⤷ please do not repost my works on any other sites!

#★�� elle’s writings .ᐟ #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #various x reader #haikyuu various x reader #bokuto x reader #sugawara x reader #iwaizumi x reader #suna x reader #akaashi x reader #sakusa x reader #osamu x reader #matsukawa x reader #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #tendou x reader #hinata x reader #kenma x reader #atsumu x reader

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writtenbowss · 1 year ago

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Self indulgent Adam x reader...that man....he's got one strong grip on me and idc atp :3

Adam x winged!sinner!reader

Takes place after the final episode, he gets judged again and is now a sinner in hell, new member of the hazbin hotel!

---------

Sometimes you wish you didn't bend to Charlie's will so easily when she used her puppy eyes, she knew you had a weakness for cute things despite your colder demeanor, it was this weakness that had led you to taking care of the first human, dick master as he wanted you to call him, Adam. Who nifty had swiftly killed and now lives in the hazbin hotel after being re-judged as a sinner, though still injured.

You begrudgingly walk into his room where he is admiring himself in the mirror....again. he doesn't look that much different from when he was an angel, just more demonish, kinda human in a way? His wings are now a charcoal black from being disgraced from heaven. You groan and cross your arms, your own wings tucked in since you didn't have the power to just magically retract them....that would be nice though.

"Adam. You should still be in bed, resting." You say with an annoyed tone, he just looks at you before starting to flirt with you again for the millionth time, although with more backhanded compliments and insults thrown in this time. "C'mon cold tits, you sure you wanna hide this body? I may be one of you shitheads now but I say this dick is still holy~"

....yeah no. You go over and force him back onto the bed, having forced him back into bed countless times before since he doesn't seem to grasp the fact that his wounds aren't fully healed, he grasps your wrist, quickly dragging you down successfully this time, he had tried before but never succeeded...

You land on top of him, eyes slightly wide as you keep your arms propped up so you're not on your hands and knees on top of him....what an embarrassing position, you had to get off him quick, but he was quicker. Without thinking he wrapped his arm around your back in an attempt to make you stay, smirking and winking at you as you look down with slight uncomfortableness apparent on your face. Your wings move so that he's not touching them, you never liked anyone touching your wings because their a little sensitive in some spots, although Adam had tried to disregard that boundary in favor of trying to tease me by attempting to touch my wings which earned him a slap across the face once.

His hand slipped up your back, causing you to flinch slightly, it felt weird. You thought about punching Adam, not caring about his healing wounds, until that thought was tossed out your brains window when his hand grazed the base of your wing which caused you to gasp and flinch. Dear God cock, when was the last time someone massaged there? probably no one but it felt nice, like you had just found a comfy spot on your bed, your ears slightly brushed as you felt embarrassed being this kind of vulnerable in front of him.

He instantly noticed your reaction, his smirk turning into a full blown grin as he realized he found a delicate spot on the infamously cold (name), his rough hand then pressed and moved slightly at the base of your wing which made you flinch and sigh somewhat contently.

He continued moving around the base of your wing before you full on collapsed on him, laying against his chest looking like you're about to fall asleep, he chuckles and finally says something "looks like you're not so difficult to deal with after all, cold tits"

It sounds somewhat like mockery, but he honestly has grown some feelings for you, he enjoyed a challenge anyways! Now that he's seeing you like this, all sleepy and laying against him he can't deny that he wouldn't mind being like this with you, even if you glare at him yet don't stop him as he ends up massaging the base of your wings as you lay completely flat against him.

This feels like complete bliss, even if it's by someone you don't really like, you can't deny that it's lulling you to sleep. Maybe it's because he has his own pair of wings that he knows how to maneuver his hands against your back, now under your shirt that's surprisingly, not in a sexual way. It's quite nice, actually.

....he looks down again after spacing out for a second, seeing you asleep against him. Honestly, he thinks that you and him can maybe become more than just cocky asshole and a cold sinner...just maybe.

----------

RAHH IM SORRY IF THIS FEWLS RUSHED THIS IS LIKE PRETTY SELF INSULGENT SO UHHHHH

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel #sinner!adam #adam x you #hazbin hotel fluff #adam x reader fluff #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin x reader #hazbin fluff #hazbin x reader fluff

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nightlyrequiem · 4 months ago

Text

Apples, Oranges, and Other Small Fruits

Valeria shows you just how attractive she finds you and your small chest.

╰┈➤ Do you have small boobs? Does it make you feel like less of a woman? Well, me too. I actually start tweaking because of it sometimes. My tits literally disappear when I take off my bra and turn to the side and it drives me mental. Gaining weight doesn't even help because at my heaviest my bra size never went above an A cup.

w.c- 1,816

Tags/Warning: WLW, Fem!Reader, Small chested reader (I'm talking pretty flat.), Self-Esteem Issues, Unhealthy Body Image, Reader Has Some Body Description, Smut, Use of a Dildo, TITTY SUCKING RAHHHH

🍎🍊🍋🍎🥝🥝🍎🍋🍊🍎

You stare into the mirror and feel disheartened at what stares back. You bought this beautiful red dress. With a neckline that dips playfully and a slit up the side of it. How excited you were to have it and wear it. However now that you're seeing yourself in it... you're disappointed. Upset. It's completely unflattering. Flattening what little curves you had left. You turn to the side and feel a heavy pit in your stomach. Going braless was a mistake because your boobs are nothing more than barely perceivable lumps. Not to mention the dress isn't entirely form fitting and turns you into a box. You feel like a little kid playing dress up in mommy's clothes.

Another beautiful piece of clothing that looks cheap and stupid on you. In a fit of anger, you rip the dress off of your body and throw it across the room. You look back at your almost fully nude form. Looking at your body with disgust and hatred. Embarrassed by the sight of yourself. You look like a boy. Thin and gangly, soft in all the wrong places.

You think of your partner, Valeria. It's hard not to compare yourself to her when you see her everyday. You always chalked up your small assets to your thinner disposition. The idea that you could only have one or the other brought you the illusion of comfort, but you'd always be reminded that it isn't true. You tried body positivity, but that never worked. Being told fancier clothes and dresses fit better on smaller chested girls only frustrated you, because you found you never looked good in them. Unless you put on a pushup bra, and even then, it was a difficult task finding one small enough to fit into. You always hear about more well-endowed girls struggling to find bras that fit but you also struggle. The stores you go to often don't have bras small enough for you - unless they're sports bras.

You give yourself a long hard stare. As though by willing it enough, your mosquito bites will grow. They don't, and you can't stand to look at yourself any longer. You angrily shut the bathroom lights off and walk into the bedroom. The carpet soft under your feet. The long, elegant curtains are closed, hiding the room from the night-darkened world outside. They flutter in the cool breeze from the cracked open window.

The bedsheets are welcomingly cool when you lay under them. Pulling them over your body to hide yourself from the world. It's not always this bad. But sometimes you're stronger than your insecurity.

It doesn't help being with Valeria. You hate comparing yourself to her and you feel guilty when you do, but you can't help it. You've conditioned yourself to pick apart all the parts of other women you wish you had. Comparison is the thief of joy and what an excellent thief it is.

A hand gently touches your shoulder, startling you awake. You didn't even realize that you fell asleep.

"Sorry, amor, didn't mean to wake you." Valeria murmurs, pressing an apologetic kiss to your bare shoulder. Valeria crawls into bed beside you, groaning tiredly and moving around to get comfortable. The thing about Valeria is that she's a good read of character. She doesn't need to hear your voice or even see you to know you're feeling down about something.

Her hand travels down your arm and searches for your hand, interlocking your fingers with hers.

"What's wrong?" She asks. Valeria has been gone all day. Busy with keeping her cartel under control and always on edge at the fact that she could be found out or killed at any moment. She's tired. No doubt wanting to just go to sleep.

"Nothing." You whisper back. You turn over and press close to her. Hiding your face in her neck and taking comfort in her familiar smell. She doesn't need to be bothered with your unimportant problems.

Valeria stays quiet for a few moments. Despite your best efforts to keep your unhappiness to yourself, Valeria can still pick up on it.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" She presses, voice hardening with concern.

"No." You reply. Wanting her to drop it. Despite the very real distress the size of your chest causes you, you still feel silly for being so upset about it.

"Something happened." She murmurs. Valeria runs a hand down your back.

"... I'm just having a moment, don't worry about it." You reply.

Valeria sighs.

"Talk to me about it." She says quietly.

You hesitate. "It's about my chest." You say reluctantly. Saying it out loud makes you feel juvenile and silly. Valeria doesn't laugh at you or mock you though. She caresses your lower back gently.

"What's wrong with it?" She asks you.

"You know what's wrong with it." You reply. This isn't the first time you've felt insecure about your chest and it's not the first time you've complained about it.

"You think it's too small." She says.

"It is." You frown. "I'm not built like a woman. I don't look like a woman." Now you feel freshly upset about it.

Valeria rolls over and fumbles around her nightstand, turning on the lamp and chasing away the shadows. She looks back at you again, shoulders relaxed and dark eyes half lidded.

"Let me see." She hums. Gently sitting you up and turning your face this way and that. "Hm. Yes, yes." She mumbles. "Looks pretty feminine to me." She remarks. She moves her hands over your shoulders and under your breasts, pushing them up. "These look pretty womanly to me as well."

"I get it." You mumble, face warming with embarrassment. Though her words do help reassure you a little bit.

"Do you?" She asks, raising a brow at you. Valeria shuffles closer to you, holding your face in her hands. "Do you understand that you don't need big breasts to be a woman? Is an apple any less delicious because it's not as big as a watermelon?"

Valeria's eyes twinkle in the low orange glow. Glittering with desire and sympathy. She closes the distance and captures your lips in a soft kiss. Molding her lips to yours. You close your eyes and relax. You still find it difficult to believe that Valeria is completely satisfied with the size of your breasts. How could she be when you aren't? But she has no problems with palming them sensually. Pawing at you like a cat making biscuits. She seemingly has no issues getting turned on either as her breathing gets heavier.

She breaks the kiss to kiss down your jaw. Taking her time and savoring your skin. Valeria runs her fingers over your hard nipples and sucks hickeys into your throat. Huffing and moaning like she's the one being touched. She moves down and kisses one of your breasts lovingly. Palming and squeezing the other one. alternating between the two.

"I can't get enough of you, amor." She breathes. She wraps her lips around your nipple and sucks, making you arch up into her mouth. She doesn't let up. Giving your chest hickeys to match your neck. She tugs and pulls your nipples, giving them equal attention.

You twitch and breathe heavily. Wrapping your arms over her back. After thoroughly coating your breasts in her saliva she moves off of you and sits up. She rummages around in her nightstand withdraws a dark coloured, phallic toy.

"Take off your panties." She murmurs. Waving the dildo at you. Without needing to be told twice you remove your underwear and kick them away.

Valeria grips the base of the toy in her hand and holds it to her lap, her free hand beckoning you over to her. You crawl over and hover over her lap, the tip of the dildo prodding your wet entrance. Valeria shifts the both of you so that your chest is right in her face. With a hand on your shoulder, she slowly lowers you onto the toy. Your walls stretching to accommodate it. You put your hands on Valeria's shoulders to aid you in riding. Valeria watches your chest with heavy interest. Enjoying the minor bouncing of the fat. The harder you go the more they do so. Much to the pleasure of Valeria.

You moan as you grind yourself down onto her lap. She can feel your arousal dripping from the base of the dildo and onto her hand, slickening her grip on it. She grabs and squeezes at your breasts with her free hand.

"Do you still feel unworthy?" She asks, squeezing harshly when you don't answer and making you yelp.

"No." You gasp. Not at the moment, anyway. Truth is, it's going to take more than some special attention to your breasts and an orgasm to heal these deep-rooted insecurities inside of you. But temporary relief is better than never, and you couldn't be more grateful for Valeria's care and patience with you.

"Tell me how beautiful you are." She murmurs. "You don't get to cum unless you do."

"I am beaut-" You sigh. "-beautiful."

"Good girl." She coos, giving your lips a quick peck. You take that as permission to finish yourself. Losing all sense of rhythm in order to achieve that climax. Cumming is the only thought you have.

Your walls squeeze around the toy and you lean down, sinking your teeth into Valeria's shoulder. A whine builds up in your throat and you let go of her. You pull yourself off of the dildo and lay down. Coming down from the high. Valeria tosses it onto a pile of dirty clothes and lays down beside you, stretching out an arm and pulling you closer to her, nuzzling her face into the side of your warm neck.

"Watch what you say about yourself." She whispers. "I don't tolerate anyone talking bad about my partner and you won't be an exception. You're a beautiful woman and I couldn't be happier to be waking up and coming home to you everyday. You're gorgeous and alluring and I lose my breath every time I see you." She murmurs.

Valeria closes her eyes and not long after begins snoring quietly. She's always been a heavy sleeper, so you peel yourself away from her and get out of bed. Walking over to the lonely, discarded red dress. You grab it and slink off to the bathroom. Pulling it over your head and looking at yourself again. Your boobs don't look any bigger than the first time you put it on, but it doesn't bother you as much. It's cute. It's chic. Your body was the standard in the 1920's, and while it's not the 1920s, it still means something. this shaky admiration for your figure won't last, you know, but maybe someday you'll be able to love your body like Valeria loves it.

#valeria garza #valeria garza x fem!reader #cod mw2 #modern warefare ii #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #valeria garza x you #cod #lesbian valeria #lesbian

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shrimshrim4fun · 6 months ago

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Headcanons for Camellya:

Note: How do I see nothing about her 😭 Nobody writes about her, does nobody want content about her? I’m planning on posting about her more this week, anybody interested at all 😓

SFW:

-A very bit tease. Makes light jokes about how you do certain things but cannot handle other people teasing you. Even if it’s jokingly, she will glare at them and is proabably planning how she’s gonna torture them

-Loves clinging onto you especially when she’s napping. The vines from her body sprout out and wrap around you to keep you close not wanting you to leave. Her head usually pressed up against your chest as you both lay in the sun

-Your house is now filled with different flowers and plants. So many flowers everywhere. Even though there are so many the scent is pleasant like an alluring perfume. She loves it when you help take care of them with her. “How considerate of you, helping me water all of them. I hope you’re as excited as I am waiting for them to bloom…”

-Hates it when you’re out of her sight. She’ll find some way to keep track of where you’re going. In some way absolutely despises all your friends saying that they’re keeping you away from her and that you should get rid of them. Shes also really possessive always having a hand around you in public or clinging onto you. She’s obsessed and hates when you leave her side. “They’re trying to deprive me of the one thing that can make me happy. Oh isn’t it so mean of them…but don’t worry I can make them all poof if you let me”

-Sometimes she gets hurt on purpose because she knows you’ll give her extra attention that day to tend to her injuries. She never gets injuries but she’ll make injuries on herself and dismisses it if other people ask. But with you she’ll be so exaggerative when you ask her about it and you’re the only one that she allows to treat her injuries. She love seeing the worried look on your face as if you actually cared. Usually these injuries are large and bloody. She’ll look at you fondly with a smug smile on her face as you tend to them. “Aren’t you gonna kiss them well? I promise that I’ll feel 100 times better if you kiss it better for me”

NSFW:

-Very expressive and loud. She doesn’t care if others can hear her, she’ll only giggle before getting louder. Will tell you how much she loves what you’re doing and how happy she is. “Oh yes~ you’re so good it’s making me crave more…MORE”

-A massive masochist. Love any and all pain you inflict onto her. The more it hurts the better. Temperature play, whipping, paddles, anything you want. Probably a sadist as well but more enjoys it when you inflict it onto her. She moans so much more every time you cause pain on her body. Will stare at herself in the mirror afterward to admire your work.

-Loves leaving marks on your body especially if it’s any that someone else can see like hickeys on your neck. So so so many claw marks on your back. A lot of the time she draws blood on these marking and will lick the blood away. Loving the metallic taste in her mouth. After sex, she sometimes stares at them with a proud smile. Isn’t too much of a biter but will occasionally nip your neck to catch you off guard. “Oh your even more beautiful like this, I wish to make you bleed my dear~”

-Mirror sex is a huge turn on for her. When you bend her over and slam the strap into her ass. My hand tugging her hair up as she sees herself in the mirror. The saliva slipping down the side of her mouth and how messy you two are entangled together like two vines.

-Aftercare consists a hot bath together and laying in bed. Usually with her laying against her, as she traces the red claw marks on your back as she hums softly. Your hand gently rubbing her back as you reassure her. The smell of her shampoo engulfs your senses as you nuzzle into her neck

#gotta feed the shrimps #wuthering waves x reader #camellya #camellya wuthering waves #camellya wuwa #camellya wuwa x reader #wuthering waves #wuwa

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padmesweetheart · 1 month ago

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You’ve Got Me Too

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Younger, Midsize Wife!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Mutual Reassurance

Word Count: ~2,800

It had been a couple of days since your emotional heart-to-heart on the porch—the one where Hayden had held you close and told you that your body, your presence, your everything was exactly what he wanted. It had left you feeling lighter, safer, and more seen than you had in months.

But now… it was his turn.

It started in the smallest of ways.

Little things he said.

Half-hearted laughs that didn’t reach his eyes.

Quieter mornings, more thoughtful silences.

Hugs that lingered just a second too long.

You could tell something was going on, and you didn’t push—Hayden never shut you out completely—but he was quieter than usual, retreating into himself in a way that made your heart ache.

So, when you walked into the bedroom late one evening and found him standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, fingers ghosting over the faint lines that had deepened across his chest and stomach, you didn’t hesitate.

You stepped behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek against his back.

“I know that look,” you murmured gently.

He sighed, his shoulders sinking just a little. “Didn’t think I was that obvious.”

“You’re not to most people,” you said softly. “But I know you.”

There was a long pause, and then, barely above a whisper, he asked:

“Do you ever wish you were with someone younger?”

You froze.

Your heart twisted at the sadness in his voice. You stepped around to face him, taking both his hands in yours. “Hayden… why would you ask that?”

He gave you a small, tired smile. “I don’t know. I just… I look at myself sometimes, and I see the lines, the greys, the way I move slower than I used to. And I think about how you could have anyone—someone younger, closer to your age. Someone without a past. Without a daughter. Without a—” he looked away “—tired back and a body that doesn’t bounce back like it used to.”

Your heart broke. “Hayden.”

He didn’t meet your eyes.

You let go of his hands just long enough to frame his face with your palms, your thumbs brushing along his jaw, which had always felt like your safe place.

“I wouldn’t trade a single thing about you,” you said, steady and true. “Not the age difference, not your past, nothing.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, uncertain.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” you asked. “I see the man who brings me tea when I’m crying and won’t say a word until I’m ready to talk. The man who runs his hand down my back when I’m falling asleep because he knows it helps. The man who never lets me feel less than, even when I’m struggling to love myself.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, your voice dropping to a soft whisper.

“I see the man who makes me feel safe. Seen. Loved.”

Hayden swallowed hard, his hands tightening slightly on your hips.

“You are strong, and kind, and sexy as hell,” you said with a grin that pulled a small, bashful smile out of him. “I don’t want younger. I don’t want shinier. I want you.”

He let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for days.

“I just worry sometimes,” he admitted. “That you’re gonna wake up one day and realize you’ve got the short end of the stick. Older guy, stubborn back, weird farm habits…”

You laughed gently, shaking your head as you reached behind him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You know what I got? I got a man. A real man. One who shows up every day. One who doesn’t flinch when things get hard. One who wears duck slippers and pink pajamas to cheer me up and pronounces La Roche-Posay like a war crime.”

He laughed, head dropping to your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you tight.

“I don’t want someone who hasn’t lived,” you said. “I want someone who’s learned. And I want someone who looks at me like I’m the only girl in the world.”

“You are,” he murmured, holding you close. “You always are.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was full. Full of understanding. Full of mutual healing. You stood there for a while, wrapped up in each other, the moonlight pouring through the window and bathing the room in soft silver.

Eventually, you looked up at him, eyes shining.

“You know what else I see when I look at you?”

“What?”

“The man I get to love for the rest of my life.”

He pulled you into him again, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then to your lips—slow, steady, reverent.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“You deserve everything, Hayden. Especially someone who loves every single inch of you. Even the ones with creaks and groans.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “My back just felt very seen.”

“You got a little ‘snap, crackle, pop’ thing going on, babe. It’s fine. I’m here for it.”

“Thank God,” he mumbled into your neck. “Because I’m already planning our retirement porch swing routine and I can’t do it without you.”

You smiled, kissing the space just beneath his jaw. “Good. Because you’ve got me. Always.”

@skyguytoast @dessxoxsworld @endairachristensen26 @bxbyysstuff @inlovewithallmusic

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagines #hayden christensen drabble #hayden christensen x reader #hc imagines

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yongility · 3 months ago

Text

NEO TV # i like me better when i'm with you ꗃ╭╯ jung jaehyun.

──────── chapter ⵌ9: the choices of a (dead) man.

𒄬 genre: slowburn / angst / suggestive / gang au / rich kid au / e2l

𒄬 warnings: drug use mention / gang activity / fights / use of weapons / adult language / nsfw scenes / illegal activities / mentions of cheating / toxic family enviroment / addictions / manipulation / insecurities / illegal street racing / death mentions / jeno is jaehyun's brother / lots of angst. for this ch I want to clarify that this is for fictional purposes, some things might not be accurate to real-life situations (like the witness program, yes I did my research but if I wanted to add it to the story or make it work it, I need to twist it).

𒄬word count: 5.6k

𒄬 a/n: wait— before you read this i want to say that next chapter (10) will be the end of the series (i'm positive i'll post an epilogue as a bonus scene), so we reached to the very and really climax of the story— i'm sorry teehee. I know I've put a lot of push and pull shit but what can I say? I'm a girl who loves drama. I'll make it better... maybe. But for real— i'd like to read what you think of the story so far and mostly because i'm posting two chapters in a week, something that rarely happens in this blog lol.

Three days before the exchange— the morning after Daeho's OD. 7:34 am.

Life sometimes felt like the ocean—constantly shifting, never still. (Y/N) wished, just for a moment, that her ocean could be calm. That the waves would soften, that the breeze would brush against her skin with warmth instead of chilling her to the bone. That the sand beneath her feet would bring comfort instead of uncertainty.

But life didn’t work that way.

Right now, her ocean was drowning her. The waves crashed violently against her chest, pulling her under, stealing the air from her lungs. The storm raged on, wild and merciless, leaving her lost in the chaos of her own mind.

Her gaze was hollow, unfocused, locked onto one of the sterile white walls of the hospital waiting room. The chair beneath her felt ice-cold, but it wasn’t just the temperature. It was the weight of the moment. The way her body trembled, the way her pulse hammered against her ribs.

Because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop seeing it—the image burned into her mind, replaying like a cruel, unrelenting film.

Daeho, sprawled across the floor of their lake house.

His body unnaturally still. His lips chapped.

Her hands pressing against his chest, desperately searching for a pulse, feeling the faintest flicker of life beneath her fingertips. The suffocating helplessness. The sheer, gut-wrenching terror.

She had almost lost him.

A strangled sob broke free from her throat, and she quickly buried her face in her hands. Tears slipped through her fingers, hot and relentless.

She couldn’t lose Daeho. Not him. Not after everything.

Tick—tock.

… Toe.

Time had become meaningless. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there, how many hours had passed since the wail of sirens had filled her ears, since her screams had shattered the night.

When the doctor finally entered the waiting room, (Y/N) inhaled sharply, wiping her tears in a futile attempt to appear composed. She rose to her feet, her parents mirroring her actions, tension hanging heavy in the air.

“We’ve managed to stabilize Mr. Hwang.”

The breath she had been holding finally escaped her lips, shaking, unsteady.

“We found a significant amount of heroin in his system,” the doctor continued. “After stabilizing his breathing, we administered Naloxone to counteract the effects of the opioid. His body is still adjusting, but we will continue monitoring him closely. He might be ready to be discharged by tomorrow morning— we’ll let you know when you can visit.”

“Thank you, doctor,” (Y/N) whispered, her voice raw, almost breaking. “Will he be okay?”

The doctor hesitated. “Physically, yes. But overdoses… they rarely happen just once. If it’s reached this point, it’s likely to happen again unless he gets proper help. Not just medical, but emotional and professional support. That’s a discussion you need to have as a family.”

With a polite nod, the doctor excused himself, leaving the weight of his words behind.

(Y/N) exhaled shakily and leaned against the nearest wall, pressing her palm to her forehead.

She wasn’t prepared for the storm that was still approaching.

Because she knew her aunt and uncle were already on their way. The moment they had been notified of the incident, they had taken the first available flight to Kwangya. And now, as they burst through the waiting room doors, their urgency made the air even heavier.

“I can’t believe this happened,” Daeho’s mother seethed, her voice laced with irritation rather than concern. “We leave him alone for one moment, and this is what he does?”

“The doctor just informed us that he’s stable,” (Y/N)’s father interjected, his tone calm, detached.

“That boy is nothing but trouble,” her uncle snapped. “We can’t control him anymore—do you have any idea what our business partners will think when they find out about this mess? The successor to our company overdosing like some street addict?”

(Y/N) felt something inside her snap.

Her breath hitched, her vision blurred—not from tears, but from sheer, unfiltered rage.

“That’s what you care about?” she whispered, her voice shaking with disbelief. “What do people think? Daeho almost died, and all you can think about is your reputation?”

Her mother’s sharp gaze snapped to her. “(Y/N), that’s enough.”

“No,” she shot back, stepping forward. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Daeho is lying in a hospital bed because of what you put him through! Because you treat him like an asset instead of a son! Because you suffocate him with pressure until he feels like the only way to breathe is through a needle in his vein!”

Her uncle’s eyes darkened. “And you? You’re just as guilty. You cover for him. You make excuses for him. You enable him.”

“My fault?” (Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I have been the only one who’s actually been there for him! While you ignored him, while you pretended he was fine, while you let him drown in his own pain, I was the one keeping him afloat! And now—now you want to act like you care?”

Her father sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s enough. This conversation is pointless. We’ve already made a decision.”

(Y/N) froze, dread curling in her stomach. “What decision?”

“We’re sending Daeho to the States,” he said without looking at her. “He’ll be admitted into a rehabilitation center. He won’t return until his condition is under control.”

Her mother stepped in, her tone final. “And you will be sent to the States as well. You'll be transfer to a private school to finish your final year.”

(Y/N) felt the ground beneath her shift. “What? You can’t just ship us off to another country!” she snapped. “You can’t do this—especially not now! We’re months away from graduation—”

Her mother’s gaze was steely. “This is not up for debate.”

Her uncle folded his arms, voice dripping with disdain. “Frankly, it’s about time. You’ve been running around with that gang boy long enough.”

Her mother stepped closer, her grip tightening around (Y/N)’s wrist. Her nails dug into her skin as she hissed, “You are not throwing your life away over some delinquent.”

(Y/N) ripped her arm free, heart pounding, voice raw. “You can’t control me like this!”

Her father’s voice was cold. “If you don’t obey, you’ll lose everything. Your inheritance. Your connections. Consider this your last warning.”

(Y/N)’s hands trembled. She was trapped. Caged. And for the first time, she realized just how far they would go to keep her under control.

“Daeho wasn’t born an addict. You made him one. And you’d rather lock him away than admit that.”

Silence gripped the room, thick and suffocating. The weight of her words settled into the air like lead, pressing against every person in the room.

Her mother’s gaze hardened, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. “Do you really think Jaehyun would choose you over his own survival? You’re just another burden to him.”

The words felt like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her vision blurred, her chest constricting so tightly she thought she might collapse. Her fingers trembled, curling into the fabric of her sleeves as if anchoring herself to reality.

A cold sweat broke across her skin. They weren’t just taking away her choices. They were stripping away everything—her autonomy, her future, her relationships. They were reducing her existence to something small, something controllable, something they could manipulate.

Her hands balled into fists, nails digging into her palms as she struggled to steady her breathing. Her mother’s words echoed in her skull, repeating over and over again, venomous and cruel.

“You don’t know anything,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mother didn’t flinch. “And yet, here you are, ruining yourself for someone who would never do the same for you.”

The walls seemed to close in on her. The air felt too thin, too heavy. Her heart pounded violently against her ribcage, her mind spiraling into something dark and suffocating.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But all she could do was stand there, frozen, trapped in the nightmare of her own making.

Three days before the exchange — the decision moment. 8:45 am.

The room was too quiet.

Jaehyun could hear everything—the distant hum of a vending machine, the faint murmur of voices from another room, the slow ticking of a clock mounted on the wall.

The air smelled like cheap coffee and paper—familiar, in a way that made his stomach turn.

This wasn’t his first time in a police station.

But it was the first time he had walked in on his own.

His gaze remained fixed on the wooden table, watching the reflection of the dim fluorescent light bounce off its surface.

The room wasn’t particularly warm, and yet, a single bead of sweat traced a slow path down his temple. He wiped it away with his thumb, but the sensation lingered—uncomfortable, suffocating.

Maybe it was because of the room itself—small, almost claustrophobic.

Or maybe it was because of why he was here.

This? Sitting in a police station? Even entertaining the idea of working with the people he had spent years running from?

For the first time in his life, Jung Jaehyun could admit he had finally lost his mind.

But then again, his life had already been dragged to hell. And when you were already drowning, did it really matter how deep you sank?

His shoulders tensed at the sound of a glass being placed on the table.

He didn’t look up.

Not until he heard the voice.

"I have to say, I was surprised to get your call."

Officer Baekhyun.

His tone was unreadable—neither mocking nor welcoming. Just curious.

He took a slow sip of his coffee before continuing.

"I had already made up with the fact that we’d have to take Neo Zone down without your help."

Jaehyun didn’t answer.

He pressed his fists against his thighs, trying to ground himself—trying to contain the storm inside him.

"And if you’re really going to be part of this," Baekhyun added, setting down his cup,”I'd expect a little more than you sitting there, staring at a glass of water. "

Jaehyun finally lifted his gaze.

Their eyes met.

Baekhyun wasn’t smiling, but there was something almost… understanding in his expression.

Jaehyun swallowed, his throat dry.

"It took… certain things to get me here." His voice was hoarse, like it had been ripped out of him.

He leaned forward slightly, hands pressing against the table.

"But before we start this— what I need from you is a promise."

Baekhyun waited.

Jaehyun swallowed, his throat dry. “No matter what happens—no matter what happens to me—" he exhaled, voice steady but empty. “My family is safe."

Baekhyun nodded.

"You can trust the program. I’ve put years into making sure it works."

Jaehyun let out a sharp, hollow breath.

“Trust is a luxury I can’t afford."

Baekhyun tilted his head slightly, watching him.

"Once trust is broken, it takes an entire village to rebuild it, right?"

Jaehyun’s lips curled slightly—not a smirk, not a smile. Just a bitter recognition of his own words being thrown back at him.

Baekhyun didn’t press further. He just studied him, waiting.

"What made you change your mind?"

Jaehyun leaned back, running a hand down his face.

"I realized that the only things keeping me alive—the only reasons I’ve been holding on—are slipping through my fingers."

His voice was eerily calm.

"The first time you came to me with this offer, I laughed in your face. I told you there was no way out. That the moment I turned my back on Neo Zone, I’d be a dead man."

He lifted his gaze, something dark and unshakable settling in his eyes.

"That’s still true."

A pause.

"But I don’t care anymore."

Baekhyun didn’t react. He just let the words sit.

Jaehyun’s hands curled into fists.

"Death isn’t what I fear anymore."

He let out a slow breath, and for the first time, his exhaustion was visible.

Not just physical. Something deeper.

"As long as my family… as long as the people I love are safe, nothing else matters." His voice barely wavered. “If I have to sacrifice myself to make sure that happens, then so be it."

Baekhyun let out a quiet sigh.

"It must have taken a lot to reach that conclusion."

Jaehyun didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

His eyes said enough.

The dark circles beneath them, the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitched every few seconds—like his body hadn’t caught up with the fact that he had already made his choice.

Yesterday’s events had destroyed something in him.

Jaehyun exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening on the table.

"My father died in front of me."

Baekhyun’s expression didn’t change, but the weight in the air thickened.

"I didn’t know who did it back then," Jaehyun continued. “I was just a kid. They said the reason was a fight between gangs. And Sooman… he took me in. Gave me a place, made me think I owed him my life. I trusted him. I thought—" Jaehyun let out a bitter laugh. “I thought it was the only place I belonged."

His jaw clenched.

"I was wrong."

Baekhyun said nothing, letting him speak.

"I didn’t find out the truth until Mark Lee told me. He found out Sooman was responsible for my father’s death… and Winwin’s accident." He exhaled, shaking his head.

"The moment he told me, I wanted to kill him."

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow.

Jaehyun scoffed.

"Mark and Lucas stopped me. Told me that no matter what, Sooman would always win. That if I tried to take him down, I’d be the one to die."

A pause. The air between them felt suffocating.

"They were right."

Jaehyun swallowed hard, his voice quieter now.

"And now, I’m losing my brother." Baekhyun frowned slightly. “I spent my whole life trying to keep Jeno from ending up like me.” Jaehyun’s hands clenched. “But he’s already slipping through my fingers. He’s sitting at Sooman’s table. He’s listening to his words. He’s—"

He stopped. He couldn’t say it.

Baekhyun sighed. “And that’s what brought you here.”

Jaehyun nodded slowly.

“When they killed my dad, Sooman didn’t hesitate—he took advantage of it. Pulled me in. Made me work for him. That was the rule: if you lived in Neo Zone, someone in your family had to be part of the gang. And that someone had to be me. Then my uncle Dong’s accident was staged… but Winwin wasn’t supposed to be there. Now that I think about it, I realize why—once my uncle was gone, Sooman would’ve done to Winwin exactly what he did to me. But it went wrong. Winwin was in that car when it happened, and now he’s in rehab, paying the price for something that was never meant for him. And now, watching Jeno get too comfortable around Sooman… I know how this ends. My fate will be the same as my dad’s. The same as my uncle’s. This exchange might be the end of me. And when it is, Jeno will take my place. Sooman will make sure of it. He’ll sink his claws into him, just like he did with me when I was eleven.”

A shaky breath filled the room.

"I walked into this room knowing that once I start down this path, there’s no turning back. Either Neo Zone gets me first, or the program does."

His gaze locked onto Baekhyun’s.

"But at least this way… I can make sure my death means something."

Baekhyun studied him carefully. Then, he reached into his jacket, pulling out a folded file. He slid it across the table.

Baekhyun reached into his jacket and pulled out another file—thicker than the first. He placed it on the table, his fingers lingering on the cover for a second before sliding it forward.

Jaehyun stared at it. His heartbeat was steady, almost eerily so, but something inside him twisted. He knew the second he opened it, the second he pressed pen to paper, he would be sealing his fate. There was no undoing this.

His hand hovered over the file before he finally flipped it open. Words blurred together on the pages—legal terms, agreements, conditions—but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the empty space at the bottom, waiting for his signature.

Baekhyun placed a pen beside it.

“Once you sign, there’s no going back."

Jaehyun let out a slow breath.

"There was never a way back to begin with."

He picked up the pen. His fingers were steady, but his chest felt hollow. The moment he pressed the tip to the paper, something inside him cracked. He signed his name in bold strokes, the ink bleeding into the paper like a wound that wouldn’t close.

It was done.

Jaehyun let the pen drop. The sound of it hitting the table was deafening in the quiet room.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, Jaehyun let out a shaky laugh—one that held no humor.

"Feels like I just signed my own death warrant."

Baekhyun didn’t disagree. He only studied him, his fingers laced together as he leaned back in his chair.

"You don’t have to die, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching.

"Don’t I?"

He shook his head, his voice raw.

"I don’t think you get it. My life was never mine to begin with. It belonged to Neo Zone. It belonged to the streets. Sooman owned my life— And now? Now it belongs to this deal."

He gestured to the papers with a bitter smirk.

"So tell me, Officer. Where do I fit into this equation? Because from where I’m sitting, I don’t see a future where I make it out of this alive."

Baekhyun sighed, but Jaehyun didn’t let him speak.

His hands curled into fists, his knuckles white.

"Do you know what it feels like to watch everything you touch turn to ruin? To know that no matter how hard you try, you only bring pain to the people you love?" His voice cracked. “I tried. I really did. But I lost Winwin. I lost Jeno. I lost her."

Baekhyun remained silent, letting Jaehyun spill out everything he had been holding in.

Jaehyun’s head dropped, his fingers pressing into his temples.

"And the worst part? I wanted to tell her. Wanted to explain. But what was the point? I think I hurt her enough… she’ll be better off without me."

Silence filled the space between them.

Baekhyun watched Jaehyun carefully. He had seen men break before—seen criminals collapse under the weight of their choices—

But Jaehyun? He wasn’t breaking. He was bleeding out slowly, and no one could stop it.

Baekhyun reached for the file, closing it with a quiet snap.

"We’ll do everything we can. But you need to be ready for whatever comes next."

Jaehyun scoffed, pushing back his chair.

"I’ve known my whole life that death is just around the corner”

He stood, shoving his hands into his pockets, his head tilted slightly toward the ceiling as he let out a slow exhale.

"Guess now we find out if I was right."

The fluorescent lights above hummed as Jaehyun was standing, his footsteps echoing like a countdown.

And for the first time in his life, he felt like a ghost of the man he used to be.

Baekhyun exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

"Three days. That’s all we have. You know what that means, right?"

Jaehyun nodded, jaw tight.

"We don’t have time.”

"Exactly." Baekhyun’s gaze darkened.

"We’ll have to work fast, under a tight curfew. Every move we make from this point on is calculated. One mistake, and you’re dead before we can even move in."

Jaehyun swallowed, the weight of it all pressing harder against his chest.

Baekhyun leaned forward.

"Your family will be taken care of. As of today, your family will be watched 24/7 without raising any suspicions so will know the morning of the exchange where their location is, my agents will get them to the airport. They’ll be flown out before anyone even realizes they’re missing. A new life, new names—no traces left behind. This is their only shot at safety."

Jaehyun’s fingers curled into fists.

"What about Sicheng? He’s at the Recovery Center, he’s— he’s not ready for discharge. I'm the one who takes care of everything related to his condition”.

Baekhyun breaths.

“I’ll make sure we can transfer him to another place in the country we’re putting your family in. He’s a consequence of Sooman's actions, so we can take care of it. He'll be close to your family."

Jaehyun hummed; nodded at Baekhyun's statement and sat down again a little bit more relieved.

Jaehyun nodded slowly, his heart pounding in his ears.

“How will this work? What will I have to do?”

"You’ll be wired, " Baekhyun continued. “A microphone hidden in your clothes, a tracker embedded in something you carry. We’ll be watching, listening, following your every move. The second we get confirmation, we strike."

"And the target?" Jaehyun’s voice was sharp.

"Sooman. No one else. One he falls down… it’ll easier to take Neo Zone down"

Silence stretched between them. The words hung heavy in the air, unspoken truths settling in Jaehyun’s gut like lead.

His throat tightened.

"That’s not enough."

Baekhyun narrowed his eyes.

"Jaehyun—"

"You don’t understand. " Jaehyun’s voice was tight, his nails digging into his palms. “Sooman doesn’t deserve a cell. He doesn’t deserve another day walking this earth. He needs to pay for what he’s done."

Baekhyun’s expression hardened.

"We do what’s possible, given the circumstances."

Jaehyun let out a bitter laugh.

"Right. The law has limits." He looked up, gaze sharp. “But I don’t.”

Baekhyun exhaled slowly, studying him for a long moment. Then, in a quieter voice, he asked.

"What will happen to me?"

The silence stretched.

Baekhyun sighed.

"We’ll do what we can. If everything goes as planned, we can work in your protection. A deal. If you’re making out alive and the Sooman situation it's taken care of … the judge can drop charges on you and we can take you with your family. But all of you have to go underground… no contact with your old life. But for you, there’s different possibilities the day of the exchange, you know what you’re walking into. You know what the odds are."

Jaehyun’s lips curled, something empty flashing in his eyes.

Either he makes it alive or dies in the spot.

"Yeah. I do."

"We focus on the mission first. For this to work, you have to go through with the exchange like nothing has changed. No hesitation, no second-guessing. If Sooman even suspects something’s off, he’ll take you out before we get a chance to act. So you can’t tell a soul about this. Not to Lucas. Not to Jeno… not to your girl. This stays between me, you and the agents for now.

Baekhyun reached into his jacket, pulling out another folded file. He slid it across the table.

"So then let’s make sure we do this right."

The day before the exchange — saying goodbye it's harder that it's seems. 5:05 pm.

Jaehyun’s heart felt heavier than it had in days. The weight in his chest was a constant, an unshakable reminder that tomorrow would be the end of everything he knew. His fingers brushed the GPS device tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket, the cold, metal surface reminding him of the irreversible decision he had made. He had signed the deal. There was no going back. The police had briefed him quickly—Baekhyun had a plan, but Jaehyun couldn’t care less about the details. He had no interest in the strategy or the steps anymore. Tomorrow, it would all come down to a single moment. The exchange.

He barely registered Baekhyun’s words as they filtered through his mind. His lips mouthed the necessary responses, nodding absently as his thoughts swirled in a haze of guilt and uncertainty. Mic’d up. Ready. Or so he told himself. But the truth was, he wasn’t ready at all. Jaehyun’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, the ticking sound of time growing louder with each passing second. It was almost time.

Without another word, Jaehyun left the police station, heading towards the recovery center to see Winwin. Every step felt like it weighed more than the last. The burden of everything—the deal, the exchange, the lies—pressed down on him like a heavy fog.

Jaehyun stood at the door to Winwin’s room, his hand hovering over the cold, metal handle. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to face his friend again. His chest tightened with the knowledge that this might be the last time he would see him, the last chance to say something that mattered. The silence inside the room felt suffocating, like it was pressing against his chest. Jaehyun could feel it, the years of trauma, the pain that still hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. He took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. This was it. There was no going back.

Inside, Winwin sat motionless by the window, staring at nothing. The dim light from the hallway barely filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows on the floor. Jaehyun stepped inside, his footsteps quiet, unsure of how to break the silence. He didn’t expect Winwin to say anything. He hadn’t expected a greeting, a word of comfort. It was always like this—for the past year always had been.

Jaehyun hesitated, his mouth dry, his throat tight. He had visited Winwin so many times, but this felt different. This was the final visit.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Jaehyun said softly, his voice thick with the weight of the words. He hadn’t meant to say it like that, but the truth hung heavy in the air.

Winwin didn’t respond. His eyes remained distant, unfocused. Jaehyun took a step closer, but the distance between them felt like an abyss. Winwin’s gaze was fixed somewhere beyond the window, lost in his own mind, his own world. Jaehyun’s throat constricted, the words getting caught there. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn’t.

“So will you,” Jaehyun continued, his voice hoarse. “By tomorrow—your transfer will be arranged. You’ll be leaving. You’ll be safe with my family in another place. I’m sorry for this— but it’s for the best. This is all I can do to mend what I’ve done— A new life for you… for them. Far away from Neo Zone.”

His voice cracked slightly, but he forced the words out. Winwin needed this. He deserved peace. He deserved to get out of this hell. Jaehyun’s heart twisted, but he couldn’t afford to let that emotion show. Not now. Not here.

“The only thing— the only thing I hoped for was to see you smile once more,” Jaehyun said, his smile faltering slightly. “But I hope you can do that, even if I’m not here to see it.” “You’re my best friend, Winwin. No decision I make will change that.”

He let out a small, ironic laugh, reaching for the chair beside Winwin’s wheelchair and sitting down. The cold, sterile room felt heavier now, the weight of his words hanging in the air. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say goodbye. Not yet. So he stayed, silently. He listened to Winwin’s slow, rhythmic breathing, feeling the lump in his throat growing. He had no more words left. All he could do was stay and let the silence speak for him.

For hours, he stayed there, watching over his best friend, just being there. He didn’t know what to say anymore. Nothing he said would make a difference. As he sat there, the realization began to sink in. He gently took Winwin’s hand in his own, an unspoken gesture of goodbye, of love, of everything they had been through together. And then, in a moment that felt almost unreal, he felt it—a slight, almost imperceptible squeeze. Winwin’s fingers tightening around his, a small, fragile grip that spoke louder than words ever could.

And at that moment Winwin couldn’t say it, but Jaehyun knew what that grip meant: I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.

But the truth was, only Jaehyun knew the reality of the situation. Only one of them would truly be fine. And that one person wasn’t Jaehyun.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jaehyun stood up, his legs heavy with the weight of everything. He looked down at Winwin one last time, but there was nothing left to say. He couldn’t stay forever. He had to leave. He had to face what was coming tomorrow. He couldn’t change it.

Jaehyun left the room quietly, stepping into the hallway without a glance back. There was nothing to look back on. The silence was deafening, but it was the only thing that made sense.

The night of the exchange — words spreads too fast and then the call that changed everything. 9:52 pm.

The night was thick with silence.

Not the peaceful kind. The kind that meant something was wrong.

Jaehyun sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. The visit to Winwin had drained him in a way he hadn’t expected. He thought seeing him would bring some kind of calm. Instead, all he felt was the weight of time slipping through his fingers.

Tomorrow.

Everything came down to tomorrow.

A deep breath. He pressed his fingers to his temples, letting his mind go blank. He just needed a few hours of stillness before the storm hit.

Then, his phone rang.

The name on the screen sent a cold spike down his spine.

Sooman.

Jaehyun exhaled slowly before answering.

"Didn’t expect you to call me personally." His voice was even. Careful.

"You think I’d let someone else handle this conversation?" Sooman’s tone was smooth, casual—too casual. "That’d be a little disrespectful, don’t you think?"

Jaehyun’s grip on the phone tightened.

"What do you want?"

Sooman chuckled softly. "Straight to the point, as always. I like that about you, Jaehyun. Makes this easier."

A pause. Then—

"We’re moving the exchange up. It’s happening tonight."

Jaehyun’s heart slammed against his ribs.

"What?"

"You heard me." Sooman’s voice didn’t change. If anything, it sounded amused. Like he was enjoying this. "You’ve got an hour."

Jaehyun’s jaw clenched. "That wasn’t the plan."

"Plans change."

Silence stretched between them.

Jaehyun forced his breathing to stay even, to not let the panic show.

"Why?"

Sooman hummed. "What kind of question is that?"

"A fair one."

"No, Jaehyun. A nervous one."

Jaehyun’s teeth ground together. This was a test. Sooman wanted to see how he’d react.

"Something wrong?" Sooman continued, voice laced with mock concern. "You’re not having second thoughts, are you?"

Jaehyun swallowed down the instinct to snap back.

"I need time to get things in order."

"You have time." Sooman’s voice darkened, amusement fading. "One hour. That’s more than enough for someone like you. Unless, of course… you’re not up for it?"

Jaehyun’s hands curled into fists. He could feel the noose tightening around him, but there was no way out.

"I’ll be there."

A beat of silence. Then, Sooman let out a slow, satisfied exhale.

"Good. I’d hate to think you weren’t still on our side."

The call ended.

Shit, shit, shit—- SHIT.

Jaehyun lowered the phone, staring at the screen as the weight of the situation crashed down on him.

One hour.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this.

Baekhyun wasn’t ready.

The plan wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t ready.

His family wasn't out of the country yet...

This wasn’t just an inconvenience. It was a trap.

Jaehyun shot to his feet, shoving a hand through his hair. He needed to think. Fast.

There were only two options:

Go in alone, pretend nothing had changed, and pray he could get out alive.

Call Baekhyun, warn him that everything just went to hell, and risk blowing his cover.

Neither option was good.

But one of them meant walking straight into Sooman’s hands.

Jaehyun grabbed his jacket, his movements stiff, mechanical. He didn’t hesitate—he couldn’t.

He dialed Baekhyun.

"Jung."

"The exchange—" Jaehyun inhaled sharply. "It’s happening tonight."

Silence.

Then, Baekhyun cursed.

"How long?"

"One hour."

"Shit."

Jaehyun heard movement on the other end—papers shifting, a chair scraping against the floor.

"That’s not enough time." Baekhyun’s voice was tighter now, full of barely contained tension. "We planned for tomorrow— the team isn’t in position yet."

"Then you better work fast." Jaehyun grabbed his keys. "Because this is happening whether you’re ready or not."

Baekhyun exhaled sharply. Jaehyun could almost hear him thinking.

"Can you stall?"

Jaehyun’s jaw clenched. "No."

Baekhyun muttered something under his breath—something that sounded a lot like "Fuck."

Then, he said something Jaehyun wasn’t expecting.

"Do you want to make it out of this alive?"

Jaehyun’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

Did he?

He exhaled slowly. “Just do your job, officer."

A beat of hesitation.

Then, Baekhyun muttered, "I need you to keep the GPS device with you at all times. If you're able to activate your mic before you go in, do it. I’ll send my agents to look for your family and take them. I’m coming to you”

Jaehyun hummed. “"My family’s safety it’s my priority. Whatever happens next, I’ll figure it out”

“See you on the other side."

Click.

Jaehyun stared at his phone for a second before shoving it into his pocket.

He took one last look at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

For a second, he swore he didn’t recognize himself.

Tonight, Jung Jaehyun either walked out alive—

Or he didn’t walk out at all.

a/n: NOT PROOFEAD! I know, i know i'm the worst— i just keep making Jaehyun suffer, but hey! what's a story without drama? I'd really love to hear some feedback from you, what you're thought about the story is— what do you expect to happen with Jaehyun, with (Y/N)? You can do it in the comments of in here.

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @bts-iris @dojaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr @completelyjae @kanekisheart @daegalismybiasinnct @spicyryujin @dear-97

(idk why some of the tags just don’t work out!)

Feel free to send any asks here if you want!

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