#sorry this last one took me a while to get to !
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catchastarorten · 3 days ago
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—100 loaves of bread.
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Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x bakeryowner!fem!reader
Summary: it started with a few visits from him buying 100 loaves of bread each time from your little bakery, but overtime the two of you started to get familiar, little did you know about his ‘work’ and how he should’ve given the card to you but didn't...
Content: fluff, aggressive stomping on bread, him having a soft spot for you, trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about you (it doesn’t work lol), a bit of reader's backstory, self-conflict and a bit of change of heart from him, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!
Word count: ~ 2.1k
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You were wiping down the counter when the familiar chime of the bell above the door jingled. It was late in the afternoon, and the bakery was quiet, except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of freshly baked bread and sugar lingering in the air. You glanced up, already knowing who it was. He was here again—the man with the sharp suit and the briefcase who bought bread in quantities that always left you baffled.
“Afternoon,” you said, watching as he walked in with the same calm, measured way as always. He almost looked too friendly for someone who carried himself so formally.
“Afternoon,” he replied, stepping up to the counter and resting his briefcase at his feet. “I’ll need the usual. A hundred loaves.”
A hundred loaves of bread. It was such a ridiculous request, and yet, he never failed to make it.
You’d asked him once, early on, what on earth he did with all that bread. Selling it somewhere else for a profit? Feeding a small army? Storing up for an apocalypse? He had only smiled at you then, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and said, “Something like that.”
It had been weeks since his first visit, and by now, the routine was familiar. You’d load loaf after loaf into paper bags while he stood patiently, sometimes asking about your day, sometimes quietly observing the modest little bakery. Today, though, you felt compelled to ask again.
“Are you sure you want all of it?” you asked, sliding the first bag across the counter. “That’s… a lot of bread.”
He smiled faintly, reaching for the bag and setting it beside him. “You ask me that every time.”
“Well, it’s not everyday someone comes in and buys out half my stock,” you said, tilting your head. “It makes me curious.”
His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed like he might answer—really answer. But then he only shrugged slightly, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Let’s just say it goes to good use.”
You frowned, unsatisfied but unwilling to press further. He always paid in cash, crisp bills that he counted out with precision. You noticed, as you often did, that he never left without dropping a generous tip into the glass jar by the register. He offered you a warm look as he slipped a few bills into the tip jar again.
“Keep up the good work,” he said. “Your bread’s the best in the city.”
You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious. He seemed genuine, but there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
Still, it wasn’t your place to pry. You handed him the last of the bags, and he left with the same polite nod as always.
The next time he came in, it wasn’t for a hundred loaves of bread.
You were behind the counter again, rearranging a tray of pastries, when you heard the door chime. Glancing up, you saw him standing there, his briefcase nowhere in sight.
“Not the usual today?” you asked, half-teasing.
He smiled slightly, stepping up to the counter. “Not today. I was thinking I’d try something different.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
He scanned the display case, his eyes lingering on a slice of strawberry shortcake near the center. “That,” he said, pointing.
You wrapped up the slice for him, and when you handed it over, he didn’t leave right away. Instead, he took a seat at one of the small tables by the window—a seat no one ever seemed to take—and unwrapped the cake with a kind of deliberate care. You watched, unable to help yourself, as he took a bite.
“It’s good,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Really good.”
A flicker of amusement crossed your face as you watched him eat. He wasn’t as neat as you’d expected—a bit of whipped cream ended up on the corner of his mouth, and he licked it away absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the shelves of decorative knick-knacks you’d lined the walls with.
“I never really noticed these before,” he said, gesturing toward a small ceramic cat perched on one of the shelves. “Did you make them?”
You shook your head. “No, those were my parents’. They used to run this place before me. They had a thing for collecting stuff like that.”
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s nice. Feels… homey.”
You didn’t know why, but his words left you oddly self-conscious. The bakery had always been your parents’ dream, not yours, and while you’d taken it over out of necessity, you’d never thought much about how it felt to anyone else. But hearing him say it was homey made you feel a faint sense of pride.
“Thanks,” you said softly.
He stayed longer than usual that day, finishing his cake and ordering a coffee to go with it.
You found yourself talking to him more than you normally would with a customer. He asked about the bakery, about your favorite thing to bake, about whether you’d ever considered expanding. You didn’t ask about him—not directly—but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he was.
By the time he left, it was dark outside, and the bakery was empty except for you. As you locked up for the night, you found yourself thinking about his smile, the way it lingered even after he was gone.
One day, as he was paying for a loaf of sourdough, he looked at you, his head tilting slightly. “Do you ever think about getting out of here?” he asked.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… this place is great, but don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”
You hesitated. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it—leaving, starting fresh somewhere new—but the bakery was all you’d ever known. It was safe, familiar. And after your parents passed, it felt like the only thing that tethered you to them.
“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know. This place… it’s home.”
He nodded, his expression unreadable.
For a moment, there was a silence between you. Then he smiled again, that warm, almost disarming smile, and slid an extra bill across the counter. “For the tip jar,” he said.
You watched as he walked out the door, his briefcase in hand, and wondered—for the hundredth time—what kind of life he led.
...
The bell above the bakery door chimed familiarly.
He stepped inside, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, his polished demeanor there as always. But inside, his stomach churned. He had made a decision today—a decision that, for once, made him feel something like guilt.
He scanned the shop. You were at the counter, hands dusted with flour as you arranged freshly baked rolls on a tray. The soft glow of the afternoon light spilling through the window caught on your hair, and the faintest smile tugged at your lips when you saw him. That smile… It was a problem.
“Afternoon,” you said, just as you always did. Your voice was warm, even though he could see the slight tiredness beneath it. That smile didn’t reach your eyes as much these days, but you still tried, didn’t you?
He nodded, keeping his face neutral. “Afternoon.”
You weren’t supposed to matter to him. That was the rule. He had a job to do, a system to uphold, and people like you—drowning in debt—were just part of the equation. It shouldn't have mattered how good-hearted you were, how hardworking you were.
You weren’t special... at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
He first started coming to your bakery for convenience, but as time passed, the lines started to blur. The bread looked good, better than most places in this part of the city, and you didn’t ask too many questions.
The loaves weren’t for eating, of course. They were for a little ‘social experiment’.
“Bread or lottery?” That’s what he’d ask them—the desperate, homeless souls he scouted in the park. It was always the same. He’d hold out a loaf in one hand, a lottery scratcher in the other. The bread could fill their stomachs. But the lottery ticket? That promised a chance. A gamble. A way out.
They always chose the ticket. Every time.
He knew what came next. The moment they realized it wasn’t a winning ticket after all. They’d just stared at him, some cursed out loud, some were just disappointed, their hopes bleeding out onto the pavement.
And the bread? He destroyed it. Stomped it into the ground until it was unrecognizable, crumbs scattering across the concrete.
It was dramatic, yes, but it served its purpose. It showed them the choice that they had made, the food that they had thrown away and destroyed, not him. It was necessary. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.
But the bread came from you.
That detail had started to bother him more and more. You put your heart into every loaf, every pastry, every crumb that came out of your oven. He saw it in the way you worked, the way you carefully packed the loaves into paper bags for him, the way you smiled when he left a tip. He had started tipping more, as if that would excuse him of the guilt of what he was doing with your work—it didn’t.
He had been keeping tabs on you. He knew about your debts, the ones you and your brother had racked up trying to keep the bakery afloat after your parents passed. He knew how hard you worked to stay above water, how you barely made enough to cover the bills some months.
You were exactly the kind of person he was supposed to recruit.
He told himself that’s why he started coming more often. He needed to assess you, to figure out the right moment to offer you the card. But the truth was, he liked being in the bakery. He liked the smell of fresh bread and sugar, the hum of the old refrigerator, the quiet way you moved behind the counter. He liked your voice when you asked him how his day was going, even though he never answered honestly.
And he hated himself for liking any of it.
The card was in his pocket today. He had been carrying it around for a while now, waiting for the right moment.
Today, he had decided, would be the day. After all, you deserved it, right? The games were brutal, yes, but they were also fair. A chance for people like you to escape the crushing weight of debt.
That’s what he told himself as he walked into the bakery. But when you looked up at him, your flour-dusted hands resting on the counter, and said, “So, what are you getting today?”—he froze.
He could feel the card in his pocket, its edges pressing against his fingers. All he had to do was pull it out, slide it across the counter, and say the words. But he couldn’t do it. Not to you.
Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take another slice of that cake,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.
You looked over to the display. “The strawberry one?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, his finger gently tapping the display glass that caged all the pastries. “It’s… good.”
You smiled faintly, wrapping up the slice and handing it to him. “Anything else?”
He hesitated, the card burning a hole in his pocket. But then your eyes met his, and something in them—something warm, something real—made his resolve crumble.
“No,” he said softly. “That’s all.”
As he ate the cake at the small table by the window again, he told himself that letting you go was the right thing to do. You didn’t belong in the games. You didn’t belong in his world. And yet, he felt something close to longing as he watched you work behind the counter, your movements quick and precise, your expression focused.
For the first time in a very, very long time, he felt human.
When he left the bakery that day, he slipped a few extra bills into the tip jar. He told himself it was just another gesture, another way to balance the scales. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did—what he was.
And yet, he didn’t offer you the card. He didn’t bring it the next time he visited, or the time after that. He told himself he’d do it eventually, that it was inevitable. But the truth was, he didn’t have the heart to drag you into the darkness he inhabited every day.
You weren’t like him. And he wanted—no, needed—to keep it that way.
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cursingtoji · 2 days ago
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the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine
cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.
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loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.
gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.
of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.
it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.
at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.
sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.
“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.
by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.
“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.
before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.
“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”
“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.
toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”
“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.
though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.
soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.
“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.
“let me alone, just today” you whined.
“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.
to correct your form. obviously.
"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.
"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.
"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.
"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.
it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.
"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.
how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...
"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.
and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.
"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.
"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.
"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.
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thecutestmonkeygirl · 23 minutes ago
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She welcomed him back and tried not to peer as he typed, only..he didn’t. “Ya gotta say something. Even if it’s just a sorry you didn’t say goodbye before he left. Or ask if youll see him tonight. Something.” She smiled and kissed his cheek.
She sighed heavily at this. “Can we wait and see how it goes? I don’t know how much strength I’ll have. Remember I said Echo has me on a special diet? Last night I guess he took a lot of blood from me and he is making sure I get back to a healthier place with plenty of iron rich foods. And while I feel okay now I don’t know what I’ll feel like next time.” She pointed out.
She shook her head. “ I just mean that Bastien is in love with him. I’m not sure he has told anyone how he feels and I don’t wanna be the one putting his feelings out in the open. “
Blood and Moonlight
Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"
@banditcoyote
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leia-writes · 1 day ago
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hi! i had a dream about this recently and was wondering if it would be anything you'd be interested in writing :)
it starts off with the reader and in-ho going through a really rough break up but they still have feelings for each other. right before the s2 games started, in-ho went to a bar and saw reader there and her job is to perform live music, so she sings about in-ho and their breakup, not realizing that he was actually there
Maybe You'll Be There
hwang in-ho | front man x reader
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ao3 link
masterlist
song inspiration: maybe you'll be there by etta jones
note: thank you so much for your request!!
warnings: angst
“Get out.”
You glared through teary eyes at In-ho, who was standing in the middle of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. He sighed and dropped his arms in frustration, a few petals and leaves falling to the floor.
“I said I was sorry. I really am.”
“How many times have I heard that? You’re a broken record at this point.” You turned away from him and began cleaning up your kitchen. It took everything in your power not to break down crying right then, but you were just so tired of doing this with him. 
“I know. I messed up again. I’m sorry. Please.”
You sighed, dropping a glass into the sink. It clattered noisily as you turned towards In-ho. “Please what? Please forgive you for the thousandth time? Please forget how you ignore me whenever something important happens for me? Please let you play with my emotions?”
He stood there silently, trying to mask the shame spreading across his face.
“Which one, In-ho?”
He clenched his jaw, looking away from you. He still wouldn’t say anything. With every passing second he was silent you could feel your heart breaking even more.
You scoffed. “That’s what I thought. Get out.”
He gave you one last look, tears starting to form in his eyes. You’d never seen him cry, never even close to it. You wanted so badly to run to him, but you had to be strong this time.
You watched him as he set your flowers down on the table and walked to your door. He looked at you once again. For a brief moment you hoped he would say something, anything to make it right again.
Instead, he left, closing the door behind him.
~~~
You cried in bed that entire night. It was supposed to be a good day - you had just performed a full-blown concert all by yourself for the first time ever. Even though you worked for a very dark and secretive organization, you always made it a priority to pursue your passion for music. As time went on, you started gaining a reputation for being an outstanding jazz singer, and you found yourself wanting to move on from your high-stress job and live a more normal life.
After winning the squid games you participated in a couple years earlier, you soon found yourself working for the same organization alongside In-ho. Despite his cold exterior, you got along well. You had been dating almost a year before you started running into problems.
In-ho worked as the Front Man for a while before you joined him. You had only been working with him for a couple years, and you didn’t really have the same connection to that place like In-ho had. You both went through something extremely traumatic by playing and winning the games, but it seemed to bond In-ho to that place when you couldn’t care less. In-ho seemed constantly tormented by his decisions, as if he didn’t want to be there but couldn’t help himself.
As you started becoming more popular, you didn’t feel the need to work for them anymore. You wanted to leave many times, but In-ho always convinced you to stay. He promised over and over that you two could make it work, splitting time between the island and your apartment. And he promised he’d be at every one of your performances.
A promise he was never able to keep.
There were so many nights like that night, where In-ho would show up late in the evening, well after your performance, begging for forgiveness and promising to be better. You’d cry in front of him, break his heart a little, fall for his sweet words, and then make up as if nothing happened. Then you’d have another upcoming performance that always happened to conflict with work, and fight endlessly about how you navigate your relationship. Repeating the same vicious cycle over and over.
You couldn’t stand to keep breaking your heart like this. The love you felt for him was undeniable, something you felt you’d never get over, but the pain was just too much. Tonight was your final straw.
The next day, you finally quit your job and started your new life.
~~~
In-ho waited outside the lounge, the cold, night air whipping across his face. His hands were awkwardly stuck in his pockets as he scanned the people around him, looking for her. He was reluctantly waiting to meet someone on a blind date, set up for him by an acquaintance.
He didn’t want to be there at all, but figured he needed to start putting himself out there. Or at least that’s what everyone else was trying to convince him to do. After looking around for another brief moment, he spotted her approaching him.
She was beautiful. But she wasn’t you.
Ever since your painful breakup, he was tormented by thoughts of you. He couldn’t help but remember you in the little things around him, even now a year later. It was a constant reminder of his failings, how he ruined one of the only things that was good for him and made him truly happy.
He knew he was pushing you away the more you wanted to quit. He knew he was hurting you every time he missed a performance, ignored a call, prioritized anything else over you. He knew you’d be better off without him and his baggage.
In fact, it seemed true. Ever since you had finally broken up, he saw you rise to a whole new level of fame. You were constantly putting on performances and releasing new music. He tried his best to ignore any news he heard about you, but in moments of weakness couldn’t help but look you up and try to get a glimpse into your new life.
She approached him with a smile and they entered the lounge together, sitting at a small, intimate table for two. The atmosphere couldn’t have been any more romantic - warm, low lights, candles and a rose on the table, drinks and conversation flowing with ease around them. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt, as if he was doing something wrong.
A waiter approached the table and took their drink order. Upon returning, he excitedly pointed to the currently empty stage.
“Are you here to see the show?”
They looked blankly at the waiter, and she asked who was performing. In-ho felt his blood run cold when he heard the waiter say your name.
You.
You were performing at the lounge tonight. 
He gave a polite smile as he internally screamed. “Oh, we’re just staying for a drink, so we’ll probably miss it, won't we?” He glanced at his date.
She scoffed. “What? Of course not, we can’t miss this! I didn’t even know she was playing tonight.”
The waiter smiled. “It’s a special one-night performance, just for us. This is where she had one of her first solo performances!”
The waiter and In-ho’s date chatted briefly as In-ho tuned out all the noise around him. The one night he tried to get you off his mind, he found his way into the one place in the entire city you’d be. He felt his heart rate quicken and his head start to spin.
Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts. “Are you a fan too? You seem the type,” his date asked.
He snapped out of it. “Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Yes, I am.”
She smiled. “Great! We can’t wait.”
The waiter smiled and left. In-ho and his date casually sipped their drinks while making small talk. His eyes would dart wildly near the stage, anticipating when you’d appear on stage, wondering if you’d be visible nearby. 
“Are you alright?”
In-ho brought his attention back to his date, who had a concerned look on her face. He smiled. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Uh… just a bit nervous, I guess.”
She smiled and sighed, relieved. “Oh god, me too. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
He laughed softly, but couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had inside. He looked around, noticing how busy the place was getting as your performance was about to start. 
“Want another drink before the show starts?” he asked. The waiters were incredibly busy, and he needed an excuse to step away.
“Sure. Just the same. Thanks.”
He quickly got up and walked to the bar. It was filled with people getting their last minute orders in, but he took his time getting the attention of the bartender. Anything to delay having to go back to the table and put on a facade. How was he supposed to act once you began performing?
As he was waiting for the drinks, you arrived on stage. The entire place erupted with applause. In-ho wanted it all to not be real, just a dream he could wake up from at any moment. He wanted to look away from you, to keep his focus on the drinks he was supposed to be getting, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning to you.
It was as if all the air in his chest escaped at once. You were standing at the microphone looking like an angel. The lights had dimmed in the room, with a single spotlight illuminating your face. You scanned the room with a soft smile on your face.
“Wow. Thank you all for coming. I’ve never seen this place so packed!”
A quiet laughter sounded from the audience as you continued. “As some of you may know, this is the spot where I had my very first solo performance ever, almost a year ago now. I have so many memories in this place. Some good, some bad, but… that’s life, isn’t it?” 
You paused to take a deep breath. “Tonight I’ll be singing some of your favorites, some I even performed here that first night. And I even have a new special song I’ll be performing at the end for you. I hope you enjoy.” You smiled as the band started, the crowd applauding again.
In-ho stood still, frozen at the bar as you began singing. He immediately recognized your first song, remembering so vividly even now how you practiced it and played it for him over and over. He didn’t even notice when the bartender gave him his drinks.
Instead, he stayed there almost your entire concert, completely mesmerized by you. With the songs he recognized, it was like watching his memories in a movie in front of him, as if he was experiencing those feelings again just like before. And with your new songs, it was like getting to know someone he’d never met. He saw the parts of your life he had completely missed. It created a deep sense of loneliness and longing in his heart.
Before your last song, he finally became aware of himself and brought the drinks to his table. His date looked surprised.
“Oh. I thought you ditched me.” She scowled.
In-ho gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. The drinks…”
“The drinks didn’t take that long.”
In-ho sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I got distracted.”
She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. “You know, it’s fine. I was warned you might be like this, anyways.”
He was taken aback for a second. “What?”
“Your friends, they all told me they basically forced you into this.”
He scoffed. He wanted to defend himself for a moment… but they were right. He stayed silent.
“I just thought you’d have better manners than this,” she said, rolling her eyes.
He wasn’t sure what to say. Before he could think of something, you spoke before your last song.
“I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to have your support. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to make my dreams a reality. I’d like to thank you by playing a brand new song, just for you all. I wrote this recently, but it’s about what some of my life has been like this past year. 
“Like I said before, some good memories, and some bad. I wrote this to reflect on some of those bad memories, and hopefully let go of the pain with them. I’m sure some of you can relate, right?”
Many in the crowd nodded. “This one is called Maybe You’ll Be There. Thank you.”
As you began your song, In-ho’s blood slowly ran cold. He knew after the first verse you were talking about him. He studied your face as you sang, watching how your eyes would subtly flutter at particularly emotional moments. It was something most people wouldn’t pick up on, but he knew you. He still knew you so well.
Your voice filled the space with ease as you reached more intense moments, gracing the ears of the audience with your rich tone. Once you reached the last verse, a tear fell down your cheek in perfect timing. In-ho’s heart strained in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to you on that stage and wipe the tear from your face, and do anything to make you happy again, anything to make the two of you whole again, anything to heal the wound that festered over the last year.
He almost cried listening to the final words of your song, hearing how you wished he would come back. After everything you had gone through together, and all the time you spent apart, you still missed him. His heart broke - he didn’t deserve you, and you deserved so much better than him. And you said it yourself, that you hoped you could finally move on after releasing this song.
Although it pained him greatly, and forced him to defy the longing he felt in every fiber of his being, he knew you’d be better off without him. And so, after your performance ended, he politely excused himself from the date and went home. 
~~~
You entered your apartment later that night, pleasantly exhausted. It was late, but you were still buzzing with emotion. You hadn’t expected to become so emotional while performing your new song. It had been a long time since you cried on stage, but singing that song brought back so many painful memories that you couldn’t help yourself. Despite that, you were proud of having such a vulnerable moment become something beautiful.
You collapsed on your couch with a glass of wine, too tired to get changed just yet. The silence enveloped you. You remembered a year ago, the last time you saw In-ho in your apartment. The somber look he gave you as he left. The ensuing rush of tears and pain that you couldn’t keep in that night. 
And the painful ache of longing you’ve had ever since then.
You sighed deeply, finishing your glass of wine and willing yourself to stand up. Life goes on, you told yourself. You were well-acquainted with the act of ignoring your feelings and pressing forward. No matter how much you wanted In-ho to appear in front of you, it wasn’t going to happen. He never once tried to get you back in the entire past year. Maybe now you could finally let go.
As you walked to your bedroom, you heard a light knocking at your door. 
You stopped. Were you hearing things? The following silence was filled with tension.
You were about to dismiss the noise and continue walking when you heard it again, this time louder. Your heart was beating through your chest. 
Slowly, you walked to the door. Your heart leapt, as if you knew who was behind the door. You weren’t sure whether to cry, or get excited, or get angry. A flurry of emotions filled your mind as you grasped the door handle, turned it, and pulled the door open.
You froze at the man standing in front of you. His grief stricken face. Flowers in his hands. The way he breathed a sigh of relief. 
The way your heart breathed a sigh of relief.
In-ho.
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poetic-vulgarity · 3 days ago
Text
ʍoN ǝW ɹɐǝH - Karina x Reader
Word count: 5K
Prompt: Ever since they were trainees, Y/N knew just what buttons to push to frustrate Jimin.
Maybe she took things a bit too far when she decided to cheat on her.
Tags: Fluff, Angst, Cheating,
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───── ��⋅☆⋅⋆──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────
Y/N always had a way of getting on Yu Jimin's last nerve.
It happened from the moment they first met. Jimin was on her way to class at SM, suffocating as she ran up the stairs at an almost inhuman pace.
She was late. She was late for Mrs. Lóu's class. She was practically a dead girl walking.
She would've been on time if she'd been allowed to use the elevator. But she wasn't an idol or staff member, so up the stairs she went. Equality and equity, everyone.
As she turned a corner and continued her race, she felt herself collide with someone, falling forward.
It didn't hurt, mostly because her impact was softened by the body she fell on top of. The groan that rang close to her ear told her the person she'd collided with hadn't been as lucky.
Y/N let out an exaggerated groan as Jimin scrambled to her feet, flustered. Propping herself up on her elbows, Y/N raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Maybe next time you could scream 'incoming' or something? I'll consider wearing armor to the stairwell just in case."
Jimin's eyes widened as she recognized the trainee in front of her. Y/N was well-known around the company as one of the strongest runner-ups for SM's next girl group.
She had the talent and the personality. Every teacher adored her. She had several friend groups and the face of someone who had been blessed by the gods themselves. Jimin had a few classes with her, but they'd never interacted. Still, something about the bright glint in Y/N's eyes told Jimin the famous trainee knew who she was.
"Sorry," Jimin gulped and moved to step around her—she was incredibly late—when a hand reached out and held her own.
"Won't even help me up, Jimin-ah?"
So she did know her. 
Jimin hesitated for a moment before bending and offering Y/N a hand up. Just as she was about to step around her again, that same hand found her arm and stopped her.
"Are you okay?" Y/N asked.
She had the same class as Jimin right now. Why was she so calm—
Jimin stopped herself.
She knew why Y/N wasn't rushing.
"Yeah," Jimin replied quickly after a few seconds. "Just late." She gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying not to appear irritated.
Y/N's hand was still on her arm. Soft, smooth. Very pretty hands, but Jimin wished she'd let go.
"Oh!" A smile grew on Y/N's face as realization took over. "You also have Mrs. Lóu's class right now, don't you? We could walk together!"
Jimin nodded silently as Y/N pulled her along.
She wanted to yank her hand away and tell her to stop holding it. But she didn't want to be rude, especially to a fellow trainee in her company.
And of course, just as expected, when both girls walked inside the dance studio and Mrs. Lóu turned to them, her dark eyes landed on Jimin.
"Miss Yu, you're late."
Jimin's mouth fell open. Y/N was right there beside her!
"You think the world just revolves around you, don't you? That you're free to do as you wish, leaving everyone waiting for you like our time isn't valuable."
Mrs. Lóu went on, and Y/N turned to Jimin with a sheepish smile, muttering a small "Good luck" before joining her friends.
Jimin felt her face burn as Mrs. Lóu continued to lecture her about lateness. About how she was setting a bad example and ruining her team.
She glanced at Y/N once in a while, trying to keep the glare off her face. But she was sure most people in the room could feel the anger and annoyance radiating off her. She didn't know how to feel about the fact that she couldn't blame Y/N for it. All the teachers loved her and found her very respectful. It just made her more irritating.
Jimin had always noticed the favoritism, but it was at that moment that she really felt it. And she despised Y/N a little for it.
That was just the beginning, though.
Because, from that moment, Y/N kept showing up in her life.
Being annoyingly perfect at pushing Jimin's buttons.
Jimin didn't know how it was possible for one person to irritate her so much.
Everywhere she went, she somehow found Y/N there. In the break room, in the dance studio, in the practice room, eating lunch, walking through the hallways, on the bus back home. No matter where it was, orwhat she was doing.
There was always Y/N. And eventually, Jimin lost her patience and started leaving her polite act behind.
"Here." Y/N approached Jimin one day and handed her a cup of hot chocolate.
"What?" Jimin looked at the cup. "What is that?"
"It's hot chocolate."
Jimin scowled. "I know that, I'm not stupid." She looked up at Y/N and blinked. "It's just... why are you giving me this?"
"'Cause it's cold," Y/N shrugged, sitting down on the floor beside Jimin. The two were waiting for their turn to record a demo. Everyone was getting a private session with their teacher, and the two just happened to be the last ones in line.
"It's not that cold," Jimin muttered stubbornly.
Y/N didn't reply, only sat there with a gentle smile. Her arms were wrapped around her knees as she rested her head on top of them.
It was silent for a few minutes before Jimin couldn't take it anymore.
She took a sip of the hot chocolate and immediately spat the beverage out, blowing out a gasp.
"Shit!"
Y/N jumped in surprise, looking at Jimin with wide eyes. "What? What?"
"Why's it so damn hot?" Jimin said, her tongue sticking out. She grabbed a napkin, wiping her tongue off. "You gave me scorching hot chocolate."
Y/N frowned. "Well, it's cold. I figured it would warm you up."
Jimin shot her an incredulous look, waving a hand in front of her mouth as if it could somehow cool the burn. "Warm me up, not melt my face off!" she snapped, glaring at the cup like it had personally betrayed her.
Y/N blinked at her, then burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. "Okay, okay, my bad," she said between chuckles. "I didn't know you'd chug it like it was iced coffee!"
Jimin glared at her, feeling her irritation spike. "Who just hands someone a boiling drink without a warning?" she muttered, crossing her arms as the sting on her tongue lingered.
Still grinning, Y/N leaned back on her hands. "Guess I'll have to add temperature warnings to my repertoire of good deeds." She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "But hey, at least you're not cold anymore, right?"
Jimin opened her mouth to retort but stopped, realizing how ridiculous she'd sound. Instead, she just groaned and placed the cup on the ground. "I don't like you."
Y/N's laughter had Jimin's temper rising. She was practically burning with fury. She turned towards Y/N again, ready to retort.
But of course, that damn smile stopped her. It made her hesitate, made her heart slow down in anger and skip in... something she couldn't name.
It was a smile that could charm anyone. But it also drove Jimin a little crazy. She hated it. She hated the way her heart sped up when the smile was directed at her.
"Wait a little and it'll cool down." Y/N smiled, deciding she had annoyed Jimin enough for the day. "You have a good practice, Jimin."
She stood up to leave, but Jimin stopped her. "Don't you have the demo recording as well?"
Y/N shook her head. "I was the first one to do it today."
Jimin frowned. Y/N had been sitting with her for a few hours now. Why the hell would she stay here when she had already recorded?
"Then why did you sit out here with me?" Jimin asked, her frown deepening.
Y/N froze for a moment before grinning and waving off the question. "We were both a little lonely."
"I would've been fine on my own," Jimin grumbled.
Y/N grimaced playfully at her and finally walked away.
It helped that Jimin was quickly called inside the studio that night.
And it helped that, the next time Y/N approached, Jimin was accompanied by a few of her friends.
"Hi." Y/N smiled, nodding at everyone before her eyes fell on Jimin. She felt surprisingly shy about approaching the taller girl. It was one thing to do it when she was alone, but a whole other thing when Jimin was sitting with her group at the cafeteria. "I was wondering if you'd like to come to the movies with me tonight."
Jimin almost choked on her drink.
Movies? Why would she go to the movies with Y/N? Did she want to torture her?
Jimin stared at Y/N. She just stared, for a few long minutes.
And then a little chuckle sounded from beside her.
"Our Jimin is being asked on a date, oh my God!" Chaeyun clapped excitedly.
"Come on, Jimin, maybe her teacher's pet privileges will rub off on you!" another friend joined in.
Jimin rolled her eyes.
Was this Y/N's point all along? To embarrass her in front of her friends?
"Run along, Y/N."
Y/N tried to chuckle. "Are you sure? 'Cause there's this new movie—"
"I said run along, Y/N," Jimin snapped harshly. She didn't mean to sound rude, not really. But the way her friends were teasing her was humiliating.
Why did Y/N choose today of all days to make things even more difficult?
Y/N's smile faltered for a brief moment as she turned and walked away, the rejection stinging more than she expected. She wasn't used to people snapping at her like that, especially not Jimin. But she still couldn't bring herself to regret asking.
For a little while, Jimin didn't see a whole lot of Y/N. They still had classes together, sure, but it was different. The small interactions they'd have from time to time came to a complete halt.
Jimin hated that she noticed this shift, but she did.
She told herself it didn't matter. She told herself she didn't care.
She had enough on her plate as it was.
She had been recruited mostly for her looks, so she always felt behind on everything. The other trainees dripped with talent, and she felt like she was running an endless marathon to keep up with them.
It didn't matter that people complimented her singing or dancing.
But it mattered that people criticized her.
Heavy breaths escaped her mouth, and her chest heaved up and down as she fell to her knees.
Mrs. Lóu had chastised her again. She hadn't even been late to class; her dancing just sucked, apparently. So, Jimin decided to stay behind at the company that night. She had a lot of fixing to do.
"You're going to burn out if you keep going at this rate." The familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up to find Y/N leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of her chest.
Jimin wiped off the sweat on her forehead, frowning.
Every time she tried to keep her mind busy, focus on something else, Y/N would find her.
"What are you doing here?" Jimin said quietly. She was exhausted. Tired of the teachers, of other trainees, of practicing until she felt like her legs would give out, of Y/N.
"It was my birthday, you know?" Y/N kicked the ground, staring down at her shoes.
"What?" Jimin frowned, feeling nothing but confusion.
"My birthday... it was on the day that I asked you out to the movies," Y/N clarified.
"What, did you want me to wish you happy birthday or something? Is that why you're here?" Jimin snapped back, her irritation spiking again.
She didn't care about Y/N's birthday. They weren't friends. She had enough going on already.
"No," Y/N let out quietly, her pride somewhat hurt. "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. Just trying to make you stop for a little while."
"Why would you do that?" Jimin almost yelled, her exhaustion and stress causing her to act irrationally. "I have to work. How do you expect me to debut if I don't train? Not everyone can be the teacher's pet like you."
Y/N nodded, watching as Jimin walked to her phone to restart the song. She knew she should walk away and never talk to Jimin again, but she also knew that if she did, the other girl would probably spend the entire night at the studio.
"It was actually my first birthday without my mother," Y/N said softly, her hands slipping into her pockets.
Jimin sighed, her heart faltering at the confession. She hated how Y/N's big, sad eyes always made her feel so guilty. Jimin knew what it was like to be away from home, away from family on a birthday.
It was a terrible feeling.
But she shook her head, forcing the sympathy away as she turned back toward the practice room.
"She passed away earlier this year."
Jimin stopped in the middle of the hallway, all the anger draining out of her in an instant.
Her heart ached, and her hands trembled as she turned to look back at Y/N.
For once, the younger girl looked completely honest—no teasing or playfulness behind her eyes. "I'm not trying to guilt-trip you or anything," Y/N said after a gulp. "I just... annoying you has been one of the few things that make me happy these days. So, I'd appreciate it if you didn't go vegetative."
Jimin wanted to say something to comfort Y/N, but she didn't know how. It would be awkward. It wouldn't feel right.
She wasn't close with Y/N. They barely knew each other.
So instead, she took a deep breath to compose herself.
"I'll... go home," Jimin managed to say after a few painfully long moments.
Y/N nodded, her familiar, gentle smile finally returning. "I appreciate that."
She turned to leave, trusting Jimin to keep her word. "Take care of yourself, Jimin-ah."
Jimin watched as the younger girl walked away, her heart still pounding in her chest. She couldn't put a finger on what this feeling was, but it was almost painful.
The guilt and frustration for snapping at Y/N, the sympathy for her loss, the sadness, the anxiety, the ache in her chest—everything.
Jimin didn't know how to deal with it all. She really wished Y/N hadn't told her about her mother.
She really wished things could go back to how they were—that she could go back to pretending to hate Y/N.
The truth was, she didn't really.
As the weeks went by, Jimin found herself almost watching over the younger girl.
Y/N was popular around SM. She had several groups of friends and plenty of people practically begging for her attention.
But to Jimin, she still seemed lonely. She didn't know why, but Y/N's smile always looked fake when she was with other people. It wasn't as gentle or soft as the ones she gave her.
"Why do you always take the stairs?"
Y/N jumped at the voice, turning to see Jimin leaning casually against the staircase railing.
"What?"
Jimin shrugged. "Mrs. Lóu gave you the key card to use the elevator so you could grab the books she wanted. Why do you still insist on taking the stairs?"
Y/N blinked at Jimin, her jaw dropping in surprise. She wasn't used to Jimin initiating conversations, much less noticing things about her.
"I... feel claustrophobic in tight spaces. It's a whole thing," Y/N stammered, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.
Jimin nodded in understanding, though she didn't miss the way Y/N's ears turned red.
"Right." She cleared her throat, hating how awkward she sounded. "You haven't been as talkative lately. You used to pester me every day."
"Is it bad that I'm not bothering you anymore?" Y/N teased, smiling warmly.
Jimin rolled her eyes, suppressing the smile tugging at her lips.
Why did Y/N have to be so teasing and charming?
Jimin wasn't used to people like her. Everyone else she knew was so serious about training, always laser-focused on debuting.
But Y/N was different. She was bubbly and kind and annoying, and Jimin couldn't stop her heart from racing when Y/N looked at her with those pretty eyes. Maybe that's why everyone else seemed to like Y/N. 
"Don't push it," Jimin said, rolling her eyes as she started making her way down the stairs. "Let's go out for coffee. Come on."
Y/N raised her eyebrows.
Was Jimin voluntarily spending time with her?
What was this? Some sort of fever dream?
Shaking her head, Y/N quickly followed Jimin down the stairs.
"You're not about to murder me, right?" Y/N joked, nudging Jimin's shoulder.
Jimin snorted. "Not today, at least."
She tried to ignore the way her heart skipped at Y/N's playful joke. Or the way the younger girl casually touched her shoulder, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Jimin had never had many friends at SM. And even the ones she did have were always competitors first and friends second.
Y/N was different.
Jimin was starting to not mind Y/N as much.
Their coffee dates became more frequent, and the two started spending more time together at SM as well. There were late-night practices, countless sleepovers, and they even began getting to know each other's friends.
One of those friends was Minjeong, a rather shy girl with the voice of an angel.
Minjeong was one of Y/N's closest friends—one of the few people she felt she could truly trust at SM. Introducing her to Jimin felt like sharing a precious little secret.
It ultimately paid off.
"Seriously, what did you do to make Miss Lóu like you so much?"
Y/N rolled her eyes softly and buried her head in her pillow—which happened to be Jimin's shoulder at the moment.
Jimin's roommate had left for the night, so the three took the opportunity to have a sleepover. The bunk bed was tiny, but somehow, they'd managed to squeeze themselves in.
Of course, Jimin had to bring Miss Lóu up.
"Come on." Jimin gently tilted her shoulder, nudging Y/N in the process. "Tell us your secrets."
"I didn't do anything," Y/N groaned, hiding her face deeper in Jimin's shoulder.
Jimin rolled her eyes but didn't comment on the way Y/N's breath tickled her neck or how she could feel the younger girl's steady heartbeat.
If her hands were free, she might have even wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist.
Instead, she kept busy playing with Y/N's hair.
"Why does she like you so much, then?"
"Probably because of my stunning personality," Y/N teased back.
Jimin rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. She hated admitting how much she enjoyed spending time with Y/N.
"I thought it was because you ran errands for her," Jimin said playfully, her eyes glinting with mirth.
She wanted to pull Y/N closer, to smell that familiar vanilla scent again. Instead, she pushed the feeling down and focused on keeping her other hand around Minjeong, who was already asleep. Jimin envied how calm and peaceful the smaller girl seemed to be.
"That too, I suppose," Y/N hummed softly as if in deep thought before poking Jimin's stomach.
Jimin swatted Y/N's hand away with a scowl, trying not to let it show how much the younger girl's touch affected her. She tried so hard to act cool and disinterested, but her heart always betrayed her in the end.
"Stop it," Jimin whispered, half-heartedly pushing Y/N's hand away again. "You always have to bother me!"
"You're very easy to bother," Y/N chuckled, continuing to poke at Jimin.
"Y/N, I can literally throw you off the bed right now." Jimin's glare lacked any real heat.
She tried to stop the smile threatening to break out. She wanted to act mad, but everything Y/N did made her want to laugh and smile.
"You wouldn't."
Well, it wasn't her intention, but when another finger jabbed her side, Jimin let out a loud shriek and instinctively shoved Y/N away.
The younger girl went tumbling off the small bed, landing on the floor with an ungraceful thud.
Jimin couldn't help but snort in laughter as Y/N groaned in pain, sitting up with a scowl.
Minjeong, now awake, didn't look amused at being woken up in the middle of the night. "You guys suck," she muttered, burying her face back into the pillow.
Y/N groaned and flopped onto her back on the floor. "We should go out for ice cream."
"It's almost two in the morning, Y/N," Jimin said, rolling her eyes as she swung her legs off the bed and walked over to help her up. "I don't think they sell ice cream now."
"There's a convenience store down the block," Y/N said brightly, looking up at Jimin with hopeful eyes. "We should go."
"It's cold outside," Jimin protested weakly.
Even she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice. She already knew that, in a few minutes, she'd be outside walking to the convenience store with a hyper Y/N anyway.
And she was almost 100% correct.
The only thing she hadn't accounted for was Minjeong being dragged outside too, bundled up and grumbling as Y/N practically skipped ahead of them. The numbers added up perfectly.
And it didn't matter how grumpy they both wanted to be. Sneaking out was always thrilling, and the fresh night air was welcoming and exciting. By the time the three girls walked inside the small corner store, giggles were escaping their mouths again.
It made them forget all their responsibilities for the night.
For once, they were normal teenagers, going out with their friends to get ice cream in the middle of the night. They were normal girls, with normal, fun lives.
Jimin wished she could stay like this forever.
Though as they walked into the small store, she almost felt tempted to take hold of Y/N's hand as the younger girl dragged them towards the freezer.
It didn't happen that particular night, especially because Jimin felt shy with Minjeong close by. But it happened a few weeks after that night, when it was just Y/N and her.
Instead of being ice cream, they went for soju.
"It's almost your birthday, Jimin-ah. We need to celebrate."
It didn't matter how many times Jimin chastised her for not addressing her in the proper formality tones. It didn't matter how many times she tried to protest the decision.
The two soon found themselves lying on the floor of Jimin's bedroom. Speeches slurred and unshakable smiles on their faces.
"I don't know, honestly. I thought this friend group would be different, you know?" Y/N confessed quietly, eyes drawn to the ceiling. "The others were fine, but I knew everyone was fake. With this friend group, I genuinely thought that there would be no drama. No talking behind someone's back."
Jimin let out a small snort and pushed herself up so she was sitting. "It's always the same thing," she muttered, grabbing the bottle of soju from the nightstand and taking a swig.
She turned her attention back to Y/N, who looked almost angelic with her wide eyes and rosy cheeks. Jimin couldn't have guessed if it was the alcohol going to her head or the moonlight casting a glow to Y/N's face, but the younger girl looked breathtaking tonight.
"No, I know," Y/N sighed, eyebrows drawn to a frown as she turned to Jimin. "But things seemed different this time."
Y/N felt ridiculous in more ways than one. She got along with many people at SM, but she always knew people mostly used her to get higher rankings and to gather more contacts. This time, she genuinely believed her friends weren't like that. Earlier that day, she walked in on them talking about her behind her back.
"I'm such an idiot." She covered her eyes with her arms.
Jimin reached out and gently turned Y/N's face to look at her instead. Jimin's fingers lingered on the younger girl's skin for a moment, feeling the warmth on her cheeks.
The alcohol made Jimin bold. She brushed her thumb against Y/N's cheek just to see what it felt like.
She ignored how her heart pounded against her chest.
"They were the assholes, not you. If anyone should be feeling like that, it's them."
Y/N gulped, eyes fixed on Jimin's. She trusted the older girl with her life, which was honestly scary. Most people in her life found a way of leaving, and it was one thing for her friends around the company to do so, it was another thing if Jimin did it.
"Would you ever do the same?"
Jimin swallowed, her heart thundering in her chest for a very different reason now. She didn't know what to say.
Y/N was so close and warm. It was intoxicating. Jimin couldn't concentrate with her heart pounding like that. With her stomach clenching and unclenching in anticipation.
Her thumb was still brushing against Y/N's cheek, so she focused on that instead. At least until her brain found a way to think of words.
"No," Jimin murmured, almost breathless. "Never. Would you?" She asked back, a small smile growing on her face.
Y/N didn't hesitate to shake her head, eyes full of honesty. She acted as if it was her life mission to never betray Jimin. "I would never. It was hard enough getting you to actually like me."
Jimin's chuckle came out a little forced, almost breathless and shaky. She couldn't focus with the way Y/N's dark eyes seemed to pierce right through her and straight to her heart.
Jimin's tongue suddenly felt dry and her heartbeat echoed in her ears. The soju was definitely going to her head tonight.
"I do... I do like you," she said back, her thumb still moving from side to side. It was almost addictive the way Y/N's skin felt beneath her fingers.
"I like you a lot," Jimin murmured, moving her hand to cup Y/N's cheek properly. She ran her thumb across the other girl's warm skin. Y/N's eyes fluttered a little, and the sight made a pleasant warmth spread across Jimin's body.
She wondered briefly if Y/N felt the same thing. If her heart was also racing. If her stomach was clenched tightly, or her body felt like it was burning with every passing second the two of them spent so close to one another.
All it'd take was a small move and she could taste Y/N's lips.
For just a second, she let herself give in to the intoxicating feeling.
Their noses brushed each other before their lips met.
It must've been only for a moment or two, but for Jimin, time seemed to stand still.
Her stomach dropped. Her heart slammed against her chest, and all she could feel and smell was Y/N. It was intoxicating, and she desperately wanted more.
Then, Jimin pulled back like she was burned, eyes wide in horror as she looked at Y/N.
"I- uh- I-"
She had been prepared for a lot of things. Embarrassment, being yelled at, possibly getting thrown off the building.
She had not been prepared for Y/N to smile so softly. So tenderly. Like Jimin had just made her the happiest person on earth.
Her heart ached in her chest, and Jimin found herself leaning down to capture Y/N's lips with her own again. The kiss was gentle. Hesitant. As if she was afraid of startling the other girl.
And then it grew warmer and quicker, more desperate.
Jimin felt like she was floating. Y/N tasted so sweet, and her body felt so warm and soft. She was intoxicating. Jimin wanted more.
She moved on top of Y/N, her heart jumping to her throat as their stomachs brushed together. Her hands found their way to Y/N's hips, holding onto the other girl for dear life.
The two stayed there for hours on end. Enjoying the night. Enjoying each other.
No responsibilities or fake friends.
Just the two of them.
Only a week after that, after going on more dates than classes, the two were officially dating.
And things went well. They stuck by each other's sides while the world tilted around them. They debuted, along with Minjeong and two other trainees—Yizhou and Aeri. And they faced the rough world of Kpop together.
Jimin, or Karina, as the leader of Aespa.
Y/N as the center.
It didn't matter how much stress or pressure they were under. Things didn't change between the two of them. They were still just Jimin and Y/N. Only much closer than before. Only much more desperate for each other's love and company.
They loved each other. Desperately. There was nothing that could pull them apart. Not fame, not their schedules, not even the rest of the members who teased them about their relationship like they were annoying parents.
"Ugh, look at them," Aeri started, making both Jimin and Y/N turn to see them already looking at them, grins on their faces.
"Agh," Minjeong groaned, wrinkling her nose. "Why are you guys like that?"
Jimin raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly to look at Minjeong with amusement. "Like what? In love?" She asked, her gaze briefly traveling to Y/N before returning to the two girls in front of her.
Ning pretended to gag, and Y/N threw a pillow at her. "Dumbass."
Jimin wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist and pulled her a little closer, laughing softly at the interaction.
It was the end of the year, and to celebrate the end of 2023 and the arrival of 2024, Aespa chose to be a part of a big award show. Well, they were forced, but potatoes, potatoes.
Jimin couldn't help but let out another laugh when Y/N threw a pillow at Aeri next. She held Y/N tight as she watched the two girls bicker among each other. Her gaze shifted to Minjeong, who was giving her the most annoying, knowing grin, but Karina just rolled her eyes playfully.
They ended up winning Best Artist at the end of the night. It left Karina smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, and she had a feeling it wasn't just because of the win.
She was standing on stage with her best friends and her beautiful girlfriend, with adoring fans applauding her.
She was on top of the world.
Though it all got quickly swiped from under her feet.
Y/N excused herself for a moment to go to the restroom and didn't come back.
Karina didn't think much of it. It happened.
Sometimes when things got too much, Y/N needed to be on her own for a little bit.
So, she waited. She smiled and waved as fans snapped pictures and her members chatted around her.
Then she waited some more. Then even more.
Y/N didn't come back.
Jimin's smile grew smaller, her heart dropping into her stomach. She tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios. Maybe the line was just too long for the restroom, and Y/N was waiting for her turn.
Eventually, she got so worried she decided to go look for her girlfriend herself.
The bathroom was practically empty, since most idols were sitting on stage—watching the show. Aespa's waiting room only had a few staff members mingling around. And Jimin had no other idea of where to look, so she ended up just walking around, her eyebrows furrowed in worry as she looked for her girlfriend.
She found her after a good ten minutes of looking, tucked away in a private hallway of the backstage area.
Y/N was leaning against a wall, hands pressed against another idol's abdomen as she kissed him.
She was kissing him.
He had her pressed against the wall.
And they were kissing.
Karina felt like she was going to throw up.
It felt like the air was punched out of her as she stood there in shock, staring at the two.
No. No.
Y/N wouldn't do that.
She wouldn't.
She never...
Karina swallowed hard, her heart sinking into her stomach. She stumbled back from the hallway, trying to get away.
By the time Y/N turned her eyes and saw the familiar figure of her girlfriend running away, it was too late.
"JIMIN!"
165 notes · View notes
caramelkoo · 4 hours ago
Text
no questions asked— jjk
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Jeon jungkook wants nothing more than to get settled with his girlfriend, but what if her fear of commitment makes him take a step back? Will he do it, or will he be able to changer her mind for good?
pairing : Jungkook X reader
genre : established relationship
word count : 6.6k (im begging for forgiveness)
Based on this ask <33
warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature, oc is an anxious girly (same), mentions of emotionally unavailable parents, jungkook is a man of dreams, simp boyfriend jungkook, car sex, unprotected sex (yall know how to be safe) yeah that's pretty much it.
a/n : this took million business days lmao but finally it's here. the sweetest anon requested a drabble but i couldn't do it and as much as i tried to make it shorter, it got stretched to 6k words 😭 so im deeply sorry anon. the rest of you who enjoy longer fics, dig in. I love you guys so much, you might not know this but yall are my besties for resties. kisses. 💌
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Your boyfriend is going to propose to you.
Oh god
Oh. my. God.
Anxiety is not a foreign feeling for you. Although this time, it’s an indescribable sort. Something which is lingering in the deepest pit of your stomach for a lack of better word. Besides, there’s a mayhem inside your head, the voices are loud and intimidating, causing you to bite your lip to a point where they bleed while also staring at nothing. 
Jungkook has been nothing but secretive— the poor boy has no idea that you have already seen the navy blue box sitting inside his side of the drawer. You can swear it was totally unintentional.
In your defense, you had been searching for your glasses and that was the only place left to fish around. Nobody could have prepared you for the utter shock when your eyes fell on that box and so for a minute or two you just stood there, horrifyingly still and stunned. However, you recovered quickly, because to be quite honest it was about time one of you mustered up enough courage to ask the question.
It’s supposed to make you thrilled right? So why does something feel… off? 
“Penny for your thoughts?”, as soon as Cherry’s voice reaches your ears, you snap out of it and flash her a forced smile. 
“Yeah-” you begin, “Yeah uh- I’m just thinking about nothing in particular.” 
“_____ you’re an amazing girl but you gotta work on those lying skills.”
A chuckle leaves your mouth. You shouldn’t even have bothered in the first place, the girl can read you like a book. 
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours huh?” 
She picks up the book before scanning it with the barcode scanner all the while you marvel if you should tell her or just let it go, but then you also know how she would become a pain in the ass if you don’t spill the beans to her. Anyway, she can;t make you overthink it any more than you already have. 
You bite your lower lip before saying, “I feel like Jungkook is going to propose.” 
If looks alone could kill, you would have been buried deep by now with the way the man wearing an olive green cardigan, probably in his 50s, gives you side eye when Cherry drops the book with a loud thud on the counter. 
You wince.
“I’m sorry what?” 
When you subtly signal her to pick what she’s dropped, she takes a hold of the book, apologizes to the man who— you’re hundred percent sure hates your guts now, and resumes her work. 
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Ha! Girl you better start telling me more or none of us are going home today.”
She’s talking to you but her hands keep shuffling between scanning the books and expeditiously typing on the keyboard.
A spark of hesitation finds a way inside your heart. The thing is, you’re not sure. Do you want to marry the love of your life? Absolutely. Do you think you can keep the marriage going and stable? No. 
There you said it.
And that kills you because jeopardising your bond and connection with Jungkook is the last thing you want to do.
Maybe, it’s because nobody in your family has been able to keep their inner spark alive after they had gotten married or you might as well blame it on the relationship your own parents have had before your eyes. 
For everyone who couldn’t see past the walls of your house, your parents were an ideal couple. A pair who were equally efficient and successful in their respective areas of life. With your father being a renowned businessman and your mother holding the title of a world famous fashion designer, they couldn’t have been a better partner for each other, right?
Wrong. Too bad you had the honor of being an onlooker of their facade slipping away before getting replaced by their real impudent selves. 
But that’s all you could do though. You were merely just an audience. Someone who could see everything shatter before her eyes and not do a single thing to put an end to it. 
Constant fights, fuming with jealousy over one of them achieving more than the other, sabotaging each other.
All hell broke loose when they began making you take sides. 
You think mommy is better don’t you, honey?
You should be proud of your dad, ____. You’re living such a luxurious life thanks to me. 
For the love of god you were five. What does a five year old know about luxury or human ego? What could you have possibly known about who is better? In your eyes, they were your mom and dad and not some squish mellows placed side by side from which you had to take your pick. Let’s not even start with the emotional unavailability they provided you with.
A knot lodges in your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I happen to see the box inside his drawer”
“You’re sure it had a ring inside- Wait, don't answer that”, she shakes her head as if she just asked the most ridiculous question ever.
No shit.
“But that’s a good thing right? I mean you guys have been seeing each other for a while now and marriage is the final stop.” she continues and you can’t help but feel terrible, because she is making sense. 
A sigh leaves you, “Yeah no- I mean yeah it is but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative so suddenly. No hints were dropped at all. Marriage is, gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it seems intimidating to me.” 
The queue has finally dissipated at this point so she faces you fully showcasing her engrossment in your dilemma. The girl feeds off drama but refuses to get involved in one.
Her expression morphs into something between horrified and sympathetic. “_____, is that because of your parents?” 
Your heart skips a beat. This whole time you and only you had authority over this thought that your fear of marriage is deeply rooted in your own parents’ fucked up relationship. A belief that lay sly and unseen.
Only after those words left Cherry’s mouth did you realise how venomous they sound. It makes you aware that the fear was not as concealed as you intended to keep it. What are you supposed to do when you find out that somebody else knows about your deepest terrors? Run? Hide? Or simply not say anything? 
Your mouth feels suddenly dry. “What?” 
Cherry takes a hold of your palm and rubs it gently, “If it is, I want you to know that it’s not the case for everyone. Marriage is a beautiful concept, a lovely commitment. Are there some pitfalls to it? Yes. But that’s the beauty of it. The way two people come together and resolve them-”
Your phone buzzes inside your pocket causing you to flinch. Releasing your hands from her hold, you take it out and see your grandmother’s number stare up at you. 
“I’ll just be back.” you excuse yourself just as a woman places a stack of books on the counter.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
“Hey, beautiful” you greet her, a smile lighting up your entire face.
“My baby, did I catch you at the wrong time?” her voice is like a balm to your heart. So warm and comforting. It reminds you of your movie nights with her where you didn’t have to be anything or pretend. You just had to exist and she made it worth it. Always. 
“Now you know even the devil himself can’t stop me from talking to you.” 
A loud chortle reaches your ears and you imagine her throwing her head back, laughing. 
“I was calling to ask if you and your eye candy of a boyfriend are visiting home this year for thanksgiving, dear?” 
Dear lord, you can’t believe you forgot about that.
Your eyes widen, and just when you think you could bubble up some other lie, she speaks up, “You forgot, didn’t you?” 
Yeah, bold of you to assume you can do that and get away. You actually need to work on your lying skills. For whatever reason. You want to pluck your eyelashes out one by one because of how gloomy she sounds.
“I’m genuinely sorry, grams.” pinching the bridge of your nose you continue, “I’ve just been busy with work and barely making ends meet. I promise this is the first and last time I let it slip my mind.” 
With the job you have, there’s only so much cash you can count and while you would love to make a career out of writing, the thought of publishing your own book sends shivers down your spine.
Every time you open the draft a new mistake pops up, taking a percentage of your self confidence down the drain. You’re only human. A microscopic slip catches your attention and you start questioning your life choices. 
“Honey, come home and give yourself some time off, what do you youngsters like to call it? Oh yes, grind. Yeah?” 
It’s your turn to laugh. “Wow someone has been too into love island lately.”
Cherry raises her eyebrows from across the room and you mouth her the word ‘grandma’. She nods with a smile on her face, going back to work. 
A long stretch of silence hangs in the air before you hear her ask, “_____, what else is wrong?” 
The smile which has been adorning your face this whole time instantly drops. You blink.
Once
Twice
Thrice 
“I don’t understand.” Liar.
“You know what I mean, baby. I want you to tell me more, because I know something has been bothering you. What is it?”
Humans are so funny sometimes. They can be as close to you as your own soul and not have a hint of your torment. Meanwhile, there is your grandmother, who despite being so far away from you just….. knew. But again, it has always been like this hasn’t it? 
Whenever you got tired of your parents throwing stuff around the house, making each other lick the floors, trying to make their own and your life a living hell, she knew. 
She was the one who allowed you to cry, and assured you that she would not call you dramatic if she happened to hear your sobs.
You were allowed to cry,
You were allowed to ask for help,
You were allowed to not hold back.
Sucking in a deep breath, you release it, “Everything else is perfect, grams.”
Mr William is always the first person to greet you everyday when you reach the apartment. He’s been working as a guard for years now and you’ve grown quite familiar with him. While being the sweetest man you’ve ever come across, he also brings his wife’s yummiest tarts for you whenever she makes them. Arguably, they deserve more hype than they get.
“She knows how much you love her tarts” he says, making you feel immense gratitude towards his kindness. 
This particular night, he seems…. restless. He’s shifting from one foot to another as you shut the cab’s door behind you. Striding over to him, you mentally try your best to figure out his uneasiness. 
Clearing your throat, your throat as you ask, “Is everything alright, Mr William?” 
Only after he hears your voice, he gains his composure. Or so he tries. 
He hands you a piece of paper which feels a bit wet and you wonder what could have been so intense that the man began having clammy palms.
It’s nearly concerning, not to mention it doesn’t help with your own anxiety at all. If not, shoot it up. 
“Your boyfriend dropped by around lunch time, miss. He handed me this and asked me to give it to you as soon as you come back from work.”
He couldn’t have given it to you yesterday when he was with you in the first place? Weird.
“I see, but why are you so tense? Has something happened?” 
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “My wife has been sick and I was supposed to leave early but I figured it would be better if I gave it to you safely before going home to her.” 
Fuck
“You could have given this to me later. Your wife comes first, sir.” you gulp, “Please, I appreciate your gesture but she needs you more. Thank you so much and please let me know if I can be of help.”
He releases an empty chuckle. “Thank you, Miss” 
With one last nod you walk inside the building while also hoping he doesn’t call you for help. Not because you won’t do anything it takes to help him, but because you hope it wouldn’t come to it. The moment you shut the apartment door behind and turn on the light, the piece of paper steals your attention. Without waiting any further, you unfold it, coming across Jungkook’s writing. 
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The note alone feels like he whispered it into your ear before placing the softest kiss on your skin. Your lips stretch into a serene smile as you stride over to the bedroom, turning the doorknob as your gaze catches a purple bodycon resting on top of your bed. It is accompanied with a bouquet of pink tulips as well as a bar of Dubai chocolate. 
Your head that has been nothing short of a commotion is now finally at peace. Not entirely but at peace nonetheless.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Jungkook was 12 when he went on his first roller coaster ride. He was, like every other child, afraid. Afraid that he might fall and hurt himself so bad, he wouldn’t ever be able to get up. The roller coaster had a massive drop followed by a corkscrew which took him upside down. Until the moment Jungkook saw a woman in yellow dress buying a bunch of tulips from the flower shop he very often visited, he had never felt his stomach bottom out as strongly as it did during that drop back then.
There she was, chatting with the florist as if they’re best friends. He could see her behind the glass picking out the pink tulips before sniffing them. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood across the road, soaked and enchanted as he wondered if he should ask for her number or chicken out. Eventually, the latter won. 
But here’s the thing, Jungkook is not one for losing. He hates losing, even the term makes him want to peel his own skin off. 
He saw her hair first, becoming curly locks reaching down to her waist and just above her hips. Granted that his line of sight only allowed him to see her side profile, he assumed she was gorgeous. It was not unlikely for him to see beautiful women on a daily basis, but something about her just sucked him in. His eyes could not leave her face and he believed even if they tried, he would pluck them out just to punish them. Was it weird that his hands itched to hold a woman he doesn’t even know? 
What’s her name?
Where does she live?
What’s her favorite color?
How does she like her coffee?
There’s a japanese phrase called koi no yokan which means that you eventually will fall in love with a person you meet. You’re going to grow so fond of that person that you would want to see no one by your side but them. She was that person for him. 
He rubs his hands for the nth time in a futile attempt to warm them up, waiting outside ____’s building. How is this evening going so slow? He has been here for perhaps half an hour now, so why does it feel like it’s been a decade? 
And funnily enough, the only person who can put him out of his misery is _____. At this point, the guy fears he wouldn’t be able to so much as look her in the eye, but not doing that will be the end of him too.
He looks down and lets his hands run over his black button down shirt, wondering if she would like it. She loved seeing him in black on the first date. A loud click clack of heels grab his attention, perking his ears up. He looked up and there she was in all her glory. 
Jungkook releases a breath and rubs his chest as if his heart hurts. As if it’s telling him how unworthy he is of this woman who is walking up to him, who may be as nervous as him but still chose him as her man. 
The woman who could have anyone she wanted wrapped around her pinky finger gave her days, nights and evenings to him. She smiled at him, for him and if he was lucky, because of him.
_____ stops before him while he’s still adjusting to the sight of her. “How do I look?” 
Unreal, exquisite and way out of his league.
He shakes his head from side to side, thinking of a single word that would suffice the answer to that. He fails and so instead he runs his fingers down her forearm until he reaches her soft hands and takes it into his own cold ones. 
Placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he begins. “My imagination of you in this dress has got nothing on this vision.” 
Her face morphs into the softest expression of love, “And exactly how many times have you imagined me in this dress, Jeon Jungkook?” 
He takes a step forward, his chest almost touching hers. “I can’t answer that. You want to know why?” 
“Why?” Her voice is emotionless. His thumb grazes her lower lip as he tries not to smudge her nude lipstick. “Because if I do, we’ll have to go back into your apartment and try not to wake your neighbours up.” She swats his chest and softly pushes him back, dissolving into a giggle. 
“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” she says as her eyes shamelessly check him out. His sleeves are halfway folded stopping just below his elbow, beautifying his tattooed forearms.
He’s also wearing his favorite blue baggy jeans with his usual black chunky boots. The same ones he goes for when he knows _____ might not be able to bear the pain caused by her heels, so he ends up swapping them with the boots.
He would argue carrying her all the way to her apartment instead, but settles elseways. 
Jungkook opens the car door for her and only after she’s well seated, he runs to his side and takes off. 
The ride to the restaurant is quiet despite the obvious tension that doesn't go unnoticed by either him or her. As much as he would like to spend the rest of the night snuggled into bed with her, he knows there is something more significant than that. So instead he indulges in caressing her thigh. 
“After you, angel.” He places a hand on the small of her back. 
˚୨୧⋆。˚
The ambience looks straight out of the movies. Like a paradise. Violinists are playing a chorus of Fuck her gently by Tenacious D far across the room. 
Jungkook catches an unknown look on her face. “Something’s wrong?” 
She shakes her head, flashing him a smile. “I love this song.”
He places a tiny kiss on her temple. “I know, baby. C’mon.” 
You know how women have this killer instinct of knowing if and when somebody’s watching them? It’s like they have a separate pair of googly eyes on the back of their head to protect them from creeps. 
From the moment you have entered the place, the man in the wine shirt has been making a hole in your face with the way he’s been staring at you. 
Is your dress too revealing? Are you showing too much skin?
“Oh I forgot to tell you. Your grandmother called earlier today.” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. 
You gulp down the last piece of steak before answering. “Let me guess she asked you to join her for thanksgiving?” He nods, a bright smile on his face. “I told her I would love to.” 
A cheeky smile unfurls slowly on your face. Jungkook loves your grandmother. Maybe a little bit more than you do. Just a tiny bit though. Last year when you and he visited her, he was the first person apart from you to get a hug out of her.
Your grandma is not much of a hugger by the way. Her hugs are totally exclusive. 
“I’m sure she loves having my ‘eye candy of a boyfriend’ there.” 
Jungkook snorts, placing his fork down. “She called me an eye candy?” 
He dissolves into a fit of laughter when you answer his question with a nod. 
“See now that’s the biggest achievement I have had in a while. I mean what are the odds your wife’s grandma calls your an eye candy-”
Something sours in your stomach. The steak here tastes awful or maybe it’s just you feeling pathetic that as soon as he says ‘wife’ your expression morphs into something so dreadful that it causes him to stop. What are the odds that you just gave him a reality check and dragged him out of a fool’s paradise?
“Angel, what’s-” 
You stand abruptly, cutting him off yet again. His eyes bob all over you, and then a sad frown puckers between his brows. 
“I’ll just be back. I need to use the washroom.” You say as you grab your handbag as quickly as you can before leaving him there. Confused and wondering what the fuck just happened?
Few minutes later, just as you’re walking outside the washroom and making a way towards your table someone’s voice causes you to stop midway. 
“Excuse me.” 
Turning to face the person, you come face to face with the same man from earlier. The one wearing a wine colored shirt along with a nasty expression. You believe he’s trying to look cocky but is failing miserably.
“Can I help you?” 
A slow smile spreads over his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re here with seems to upset you in some way.”
An awkward chuckle leaves you. “The man is my boyfriend and I don’t think it concerns you if he’s upsetting me or not.” 
He walks a little closer. Oh no, this is bad. 
“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “But clearly he’s not being a good boyfriend, is he?” 
The audacity of this man.
You huff out a frustrated breath, “Listen, you need to shut up and stay within your limits. It’s not healthy going around poking your nose into everyone’s business.” 
His sly smile grows even more as he steps closer than before. 
The hair on your body stands up, and not in a good way, but in a very uncomfortable way. You suddenly regret the idea of leaving Jungkook’s side. Bad, bad decision. 
Currently, you have two options. You can either just walk off and act like nothing happened, which by the way, is a safe option or you can kick the man in the balls and then act like nothing happened.
Since you're much more accustomed to the former option, you decide to do just that but when his hands grip your wrist with an iron grip, you settle on the latter. 
You knee him between the legs with an intention to hurt him as he grunts in pain, his hands gripping where you just kicked him. 
“You fucking bitch.” 
Before he can say anything further, you storm off. Your phone buzzes inside your handbag and you automatically assume it to be Jungkook’s call. As soon as you spot him across the room, you feel the clouds parting, there’s a feeling threatening to arise. It’s something between protected and anguished. 
Anguished because you let your mind speak so deafeningly that it silenced the oh so loud love Jungkook has for you. And protected because you know for a fact that if he had any idea about what that man just did to you, he would not think twice before dragging him by the hair before bringing him to his knees in front of you to apologize. 
He stands once he sees you and you waste no time running towards him. Your arms go around him as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately embracing you in return, securing you against his chest.
It feels warm.
Concern laces his voice as he says, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe” 
You don’t even realise you’re panting unless he says that. You’re aware that at this point the way you flung yourself at him must have got everyone’s attention. But you genuinely don’t care. It might as well be an auditorium full of people watching you hug your boyfriend like an anchor, you just don’t care. 
You realise that’s exactly what Jungkook is. Your anchor. Someone who didn’t even ask as to what happened before he straight away began consoling you. 
His hand envelops the back of your head in a protective way while the other soothes your back. 
“Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to.”
“Yes, please.”
His body shakes as though he just nodded. “All right, let me pay real quick and we’ll leave yeah?”
Your voice is muffled against his chest. “Yeah.”
You suck in a sharp breath as he lets you go. The small folder on the table grabs your attention. He opens it only to find a note inside of it saying— “It’s on me, gorgeous”. 
You can see the wheels in his mind turning, but before he starts asking you any questions which may or may not cause a breakdown of yours, you say, “I’ll explain it to you outside. Can we please go?” 
“Let me see wh-”
“Please?” He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Yeah- Yeah let’s go.” 
˚୨୧⋆。˚
At first when Jungkook saw that note, the first emotion that he felt was rage and a very serious one at that. But it was soon replaced by realization. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that something nasty went down after _____ left to use the washroom. Something he can’t wait to get to the bottom of. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to be pressured to answer the more obvious question. 
Jungkook’s girl is attractive. She’s kind and empathetic and fucking stunning which makes her worthy of all the attention she gets. Of course men are going to want to be with her. 
Initially, it bothered him. A lot. 
Now, though? He’s grown rather used to it. However, it has never come to having someone pay for her in a restaurant. Even the thought of someone so much as speaking to her in an inhumanely manner makes him want to punch a hole through a wall. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” 
The silence is too loud inside the car. He can hear ____’s heart beating loudly or is it his own?
She’s leaning back with her head against the headrest. When she doesn’t respond, Jungkook speaks again, “_____ baby, will you please at least look at me?” 
Her eyes connect with his and he flashes her the softest of smiles.
Taking her hand, he kisses the inside of her wrist where he can feel her pulse. 
Thump thump thump. 
“I want you to give me something, angel. Anything.” 
He can see her gulp before admitting, “There was um… there was a guy outside the washroom and he kind of tried to force himself on me,” she closes her eyes for a brief moment, “Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I handled him.” 
Jungkook’s stomach drops. He was right. His hands fly out to open the car door before _____ holds him back. “Don’t. I said I handled it.”
He turns back, his voice leaking with anger along with something more barbaric. “And I’m proud that you did, but if I don’t go in and beat that asshole into a new one I won’t be able to call myself a man worthy of you anymore. I need him to know that he can’t fuck with my girl and go about his goddamn day.” “Jungkook, please. I can’t take it anymore. Please stop.” 
And he does. For now. 
He leans back, running his hands over his face with frustration. For a few minutes he and ____ just stare outside the front glass of the car. The parking lot slowly gets empty as people leave for their homes one by one. 
Just when he thinks  _____ has dozed off, her voice reaches him. “Can I get one more hug?” 
“Come here.” 
He takes her into a warm embrace before kissing the top of her head, settling his lips there. His anger has yet not fully dissipated, but having her so close calms his heart. It calms his whole being. Her touch, her breath against his skin, her presence heals something in him.
Therefore, he made up his mind about spending his whole life with her. The little slip of words, which by the way was totally unintentional, soured _____'s expression and that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 
She’s scared but he fully intends to let her know that she doesn’t have to.
______ unwraps herself from his arms and pushes back. Just enough for their noses to touch.
She shakes her head, “Don’t give me those eyes.” 
Jungkook holds back a smile. “What eyes, angel?” 
“The same ones you give me when you want something dirty to happen. Those big brown eyes of yours.”
He lets a chuckle slip out. “I’m down if you are.” 
When she offers him her own laugh, gosh it’s as though he comes alive. If he could bottle up the sound, he would. Something passes in _____’s eyes. Lust? Desire? He can’t pinpoint. 
He wants to kiss the hell out of her though and he wants to do it desperately. Her eyes drop to his mouth and he takes it as a sign to lean forward and press his mouth against hers. 
Her lips part ever so slightly followed by her gripping Jungkook’s collar to bring him even closer. So close as if she wants their souls to intertwine. 
The feeling is very much mutual. 
She gets up from the passenger’s seat without breaking the kiss and straddles his lap. Her legs on either side of his thigh as their core’s touch. Jungkook is not sure how long he can endure this sweet pain of waiting. 
In all sincerity, he’s been holding himself back from the very moment he saw her walking up to him in that dress. Do with that information what you will. 
Now, he just wants to say fuck it and get inside her— only that he can’t, because he wants her to take her time and ask for it. Then and then only he will fuck her. If it’s inside this car then so be it. 
The kiss is electric and filled with passion, tingling his skin in all the right places as she matches his enthusiasm with her own.
______ pulls back with a deep breath, leaving Jungkook panting heavily. 
“Please.” she begs. 
A strand of hair falls on her face. He tucks it behind her ear. “Please what baby?” 
“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I want you so bad and I want you right now.” she whines.
He grins. “At your service, ma’am.” 
He hears _____’s light chuckle as he gets out of the car, carrying her with him while also making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the hood. She detaches herself from him once they’re out and settles in the back seat. Only after ensuring she’s comfortable enough, Jungkook follows her. 
His body lays on top of her and he wastes no time as their mouths collide. Her finger grip the hair on his nape and he groans with pleasure, his cock going thick. He rubs it on her lower stomach to show her how much he wants her, gaining a moan out of her. 
Jungkook’s head goes fuzzy with every passing second. He almost comes when she lifts her hips up and rubs a slow circle against his cock. 
“Fuck.” He groans, pulling back from the kiss. _____’s cheeks are heated and lips are swollen. He did that. Her man did that. 
Suddenly, he’s grateful for the tinted glass and his big car. 
_____ lifts her head up and kisses his sweaty cheek, swiping his forehead with her palm. “You’re sweating, honey.” 
“Yeah, I tend to do that in your presence. Do you know how hard it was for me to stay sane after seeing you look so unbelievably gorgeous?” 
She passes him a lazy smile, “You’ve always been so good at controlling yourself, haven’t you?” 
“Not anymore.” He sits up, knees on either side of her body and starts unbuckling his belt all the while panting with excitement. His pants slide halfway down letting his cock spring free. Thick, angry and leaking with precum. His shirt goes next.
______’s eyes flash with lust as she bites her lower lip. The straps of her dress have slipped down, leaving her tits bare and open for Jungkook.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” he leans forward as she runs a hand up his bare spine, hooking her legs over his hip.
“Please.” she whispers. 
A loud thunder outside the car grabs Jungkook’s attention. Nice, he’s so horny he didn’t even realise that it’s raining. Another rumble of thunder drowns their panting breath but he still only focuses on the woman beneath him. The goddess of a woman who trusts him with her body. How lucky he is to call her his own. 
She brushes his hair out of his face, her thumb dusting over the mole on the bridge of his nose before her hand follows the path of his tattooed arm, his rib, his ass, until she wraps a fist around his dick. 
He pushes into her hand. “I need to grab the condoms from the console, angel.”
There’s a brief moment of silence, the car filling with the pants and whimpers before she says, “I want you bare. I’m on the pill.” 
Jungkook has never gone without condom nor has he considered going without one, but this woman right here just asked him to get inside her bare and fuck if it doesn’t tempt him.
And so he gives in, but not before asking, “Are you sure?” 
“As sure as one can be.” 
He nods, bringing his lips back to hers. His hand finds her thong under the dress as he slides it down her legs. Then he strokes a single line up and down her slit, wetting his finger with her cum. When he brings the same finger to his mouth and sucks on it, _____ all but whimpers. 
His cock follows next and he does the same with it, rubbing himself up and down her slit as he coats himself in her before he presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, curls his hips forward, and pushes into her. 
Tortuously slowly, inch by fucking inch. 
She’s so warm and tight for him. He’s not sure how long he can take before he shoots his load inside of her. 
“More.” she pleads, her face morphing into the most beautiful expression of pleasure. 
Jungkook pulls back and pushes again, watching more of a length disappear inside of her. He’s not even halfway in and she’s already crying out his name. 
Leaning in, he bites her neck in an attempt to give her his all. All his love, all his nights and all his life. The question is at the tip of his tongue but considering what happened inside, he quickly holds himself back. 
“You’re doing so good for me, my angel. Taking me so well,” He thrusts again. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?” 
She cries out. 
“What was that?” She throws her head back. “Yes. Oh my god” 
Thrust. “Yes, what baby? I’m gonna need you to say it.” 
Jungkook takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until she cries out again, “I’m made for you. Fuck.”
He releases the nipple with a loud pop. “That’s right you are.” His pelvic bone is flush with hers, ____’s legs as wide as possible to accommodate him. She dusts her fingertips up and down his spine while he slowly kisses along her jaw.
When she pushes her heels into his ass, urging him to move, he pulls out part way before pushing back in again. 
She lets out a moan quickly followed by his own. _____’s hands run over Jungkook’s abs, nipples, and wrap around his shoulders. 
He’s fucking her slowly, taking his time, feeling her body and letting her feel his too. Every brush, every graze, every breath is precious to him.
Soft and intimate. 
So when the next words leave Jungkook’s mouth, he blames it on the moment. “Marry me.”
_____’s eyes which were closed earlier, savoring the very moment, pop open and his movement halts. 
“What?” 
“Fuck. Okay, I know this is not a position or place a woman wants to be proposed in, but I have to say this before I go insane. _____, I know you’re scared and I also know the reason behind it. Of course, I won’t ask you why you kept that part a secret from me, because I respect you and want you to take your time. But baby,” he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, “I need you to know that I will die before I let anything like that go down between us. I love you so much you don’t even realise. Sometimes I even shock myself with how much I cherish you. You’re a gift to me, a gift which brings out the best not just in me but in everyone she meets.”
He places a small kiss on her forehead before continuing, “I can go anywhere, see everything but it still wouldn’t match the level of affection I hold for you in my heart. Still wouldn’t match the beauty of your smile, you amazing woman. You’re all I have ever wanted. So please, make me the happiest motherfucker in the world by saying ye-”
“Yes” 
‘What?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you. Now will you please shut up fuck me like you promised, husband?” 
He bites her jaw, “Oh, I’ll fuck you so nice you’ll be begging for more, wife.”
Soon enough, _____’s lower lip trembles as her orgasm takes over, and he has the privilege to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes, the marks of her nail down his arm and the way she calls him her husband again when she’s able to find her words. 
He’s so gone.
About half an hour later when he asks her again as to what changed her mind about marriage, she says something so deep yet in such a casual way, he wants to cry. 
“When I hugged you inside, you didn’t ask questions. You just let me be and that may seem like a miniscule thing for someone else, but for me it was enough. Enough to stay with you until I turn all wrinkly and grey haired.” 
85 notes · View notes
writing-mlm · 20 hours ago
Note
Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !
Stay for dinner-breakfast
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Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight
When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.
Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 
While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 
The answer was no. 
The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?
“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 
“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 
“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 
“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 
He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 
“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 
“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 
“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 
“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 
“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 
“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 
“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.
“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.
You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 
There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.
“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.
“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 
“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.
“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 
“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 
“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 
“Yeah,” He shrugs. 
“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.
“Yup.”
“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.
“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.
“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 
When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 
Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.
“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 
“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 
“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.
“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”
He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 
Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 
“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 
“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 
“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”
“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.
“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.
“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 
“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 
“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.
“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 
“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.
“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 
“That was one voice!”
“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 
“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.
“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 
“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 
When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 
“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 
“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 
“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 
“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 
“Mhmm, well, bye!” 
“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 
“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.
“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.
“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 
“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”
“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 
“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 
“No.”
“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.
“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”
Tim sighs but relents. 
“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 
“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 
“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 
“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 
“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 
“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 
Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 
“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 
“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 
“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 
“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 
“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 
“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 
“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 
The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 
Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 
And that was for one simple reason.
Tim was a hero. 
You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 
Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 
“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”
“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 
“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.
“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 
“I really should be going,” 
“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.
“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 
He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 
“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 
Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.
“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.
“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 
“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 
“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.
“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 
“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 
“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.
“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 
“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 
“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.
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loafysainz · 22 hours ago
Text
the parent trap (remake) | CS 55
cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader
warn: 100% fiction & remake
next chap
PART 12 I LOVE YOU MOM
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Y/N couldn't help but smile as she watched her son, Mattia, excitedly explain their latest project to the family. 
“Oh! You look more and more like your mother every day, Mattia,” his grandfather, said warmly, his voice tinged with nostalgia. 
Matheo grinned, clearly loving the compliment. “Thanks, Grandpa.” 
Y/N, sitting at the other end of the table, raised her glass, asking Martin for a refill of wine. He glanced at the letter on the table—a peculiar one with an intricate drawing of what appeared to be a dog and a hastily scribbled "911" in bold letters. 
Before anyone could notice his curiosity, there was a sudden commotion. Matheo, leaned so far forward in his chair that he tipped it over, landing flat on his back with a loud thud. 
The room went silent in shock
“Mattia! Are you okay, baby?” Y/N was by his side in seconds, her face painted with concern. 
Matheo scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off with an awkward smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. I just felt a little dizzy, that’s all. No big deal. Mom, can I go out for a while?” 
Y/N frowned but didn’t push further. “Do you want me to come with you?” 
“No, no,” Matheo replied quickly, his voice a little too high-pitched to be convincing. “I’ll just step out for a minute. I’ll be fine, promise!” He grabbed his coat and bolted for the door before anyone could ask another question. 
As the door clicked shut, his grandfather narrowed his eyes. He muttered under his breath, “You’re not fooling me, young man.” 
Matheo rushed through the bustling streets until he found a public phone booth. He slipped inside, closed the door, and fumbled with the phone, his heart racing. He quickly dialed the operator. “Um, could I make a collect call to Madrid, Spain?” 
Meanwhile, in Madrid, Mattia paced the length of his room like a tiger in a cage, glancing anxiously at the phone. When it finally rang, he lunged for it so fast he almost tripped. 
“Hello?” he answered breathlessly. 
“Mattia, what’s going on?” Matheo’s voice came through, laced with worry. 
“God, Matheo, I’m about to collapse,” Mattia blurted out. 
“Okay, chill. Just explain.” 
“Dad,” Mattia said dramatically, pausing for effect. “Dad is getting married.” 
Matheo froze, his jaw dropping. “What?!” 
“I’m serious! The suit and gown, the ceremony, everything. It’s happening in two weeks. If we don’t do something now, it’s game over. The only way to stop him is to reunite him with Mom.” 
Matheo leaned his forehead against the glass of the phone booth, guilt bubbling up. He should’ve listened to Mattia earlier. “Alright. I’ll handle Mom. There’s event tonight, and I’ll drop the news on her tomorrow morning.” 
“Please, Theo. This has to work. And hey... good luck.” 
“Yeah, you too. I’ll call you later.” Matheo hung up, took a deep breath, and opened the door to leave, only to bump straight into someone waiting outside. 
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see—oh… oh…” he stammered, his heart sinking when he realized who it was. 
His grandfather, stood there with his signature knowing smile. “Uh-huh… oh, oh.” 
“This is not what it looks like,” Matheo blurted out, already feeling the walls closing in. 
His grandfather just looped his arm through his as they began to walk down the park path. “Sweetheart, I may be old, but I notice ‘everything’. Now, spill it. What’s this all about?” 
“It’s... it’s a long story,” he mumbled, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. 
His grandfather patted his arm reassuringly. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world.” 
Matheo sighed, realizing there was no escaping him. “Alright, but promise you won’t freak out.” 
“No promises,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye. 
And with that, Matheo began unraveling the tangled web of plans, secrets, and schemes, knowing full well his grandfather was the last person he could ever truly fool. 
*****
Matheo paced nervously, his shoe scuffing the floor as he debated his next move. From the other side of the door, he could hear his mother speaking in rapid French, her voice calm and composed despite the chaos in his chest. Biting his lip, he leaned against the door, just barely cracking it open to peek inside. His mother sat at her desk, phone pressed to her ear, her words flowing effortlessly like music he didn’t understand. 
Behind him, his grandfather, gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have all day, gentleman,” he said, his tone both firm and loving.
Matheo glanced up at him, hesitant, but he smiled at him, his eyes full of encouragement. “You can do this,” he whispered. 
Taking a deep breath, Matheo pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. His mother, Y/N, was just finishing her call, something about a new design that she had completed and a delicious carbonara pasta she’d been craving. She glanced up, surprised to see her son standing there, and quickly hung up.   
“Mattia, my baby,” she said, setting the phone down.
But before Matheo could say anything, he froze, his courage faltering. Without a word, he dove under the covers beside his mom, pulling the cover over his head. Y/N blinked, her confusion quickly melting into amusement. 
“Mattia?” Y/N called, moving to sit beside the bundle of blankets that was her son. “What are you doing there?” 
From beneath the covers came a muffled response: “I have to go see Mattia!”
Y/N laughed softly, trying to open the cover. "So, where are you supposed to meet ‘Mattia’ ? Tell me, Mattia?"
“Mattia? Sweetheart?” Y/N called his son, she glancing back at her dad, who stood in the doorway with an amused but knowing look. 
“In Madrid. With his father, Carlos Sainz,” Matheo mumbled, his voice trembling slightly. 
At that, Y/N froze. Her face paled, and she shot a look at her Dad, who simply gave a small nod, urging her to listen. Slowly, Y/N pulled the covers back, revealing Matheo’s nervous face. 
“You’re not Mattia, are you?” she asked softly, her voice wavering. 
Matheo shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “No,” he whispered. 
Y/N heart clenched as the truth began to dawn on her. Her hand reached out, brushing a stray soft hair from his forehead as her eyes filled with emotion. 
“You’re Matheo,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “My Matheo.”
Matheo nodded again, this time letting the tears spill over. “Mattia and I met at camp,” he began, his words tumbling out in a rush. “We figured everything out, about you and Dad, and we decided to switch places. I just... I wanted to meet you so badly. And Mattia wanted to meet Dad. I’m so sorry, Mom. Please don’t be mad. I love you so much, and I just... I just hope someday you’ll love me for me, not because you think I’m Mattia.”
Y/N breath hitched, and she pulled her son into her arms, holding him tightly as if afraid he might disappear. “Oh, my baby,” she whispered. “I’ve loved you your whole life. Always. With all my heart.”     
From the doorway, his grandfather dabbed at his eyes with a tissue, muttering something about how dusty the room had gotten. Meanwhile, Martin, their family butler, stood openly sobbing, his dramatic cries echoing down the hall. The grandfather rolled his eyes and gently shut the door to give Y/N and Matheo some privacy. 
Matheo pulled back slightly, looking up at his mother with a hopeful expression. “Does this mean we have to switch back now?” 
Y/N let out a soft, bittersweet laugh, brushing away her own tears. “Technically, you belong to your dad, and Mattia belongs to me,” she said. “It’s... complicated.” 
Matheo frowned, his nose scrunching up. “I don’t like this arrangement,” he said firmly. “It’s horrible.” 
Y/N chuckled, her heart swelling with affection for her bold little boy. “You’re right,” she admitted. “It is horrible.” 
“Then let’s go to Madrid,” Matheo said decisively, his small hands gripping hers. “We can talk to Dad and figure this out together.” 
Y/N hesitated for a moment, the thought of seeing Carlos again making her heart tighten. But when she looked into Matheo’s eyes, so full of determination and love, she knew there was no other option. 
“That’s what we’ll do,” she said finally, her voice steady. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll take care of everything.”
The two hugged each other again. Matheo sighed, feeling free from all the weight of the lie he had kept, while Y/N only thought “Oh God I have to see Carlos Sainz again. I'll be struck by lightning right now.”
prev chap
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genderqueerdykes · 2 days ago
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I am a trans man who abandoned my previous account because i needed to leave the community.
The trauma and self hatred runs so deep that despite it being months i still can't think of my masculinity as anything other than wrong. Not just that, but leaving made me happier. Not having community made me happier. Think about that.
At least now I can see i deserve better. But it's hard knowing that my love and support was so summarily rejected by the transfems on this site.
i'm really sorry you've had to go through this, anon. you shouldn't have to do that
the thing is people don't realize that while this online fighting is pointless, it does hurt people. and it can cause genuine trauma because it IS abuse. abuse doesn't have to occur in person to be legitimate. a lot of acts of abuse and violence can be committed remotely with modern technology. basically anywhere people can interact, abuse can happen. this is actually hurting and scarring people in real ways and we need to acknowledge this
Not just that, but leaving made me happier. Not having community made me happier. Think about that.
the fucked up thing is i feel the exact same way. i interact with community on here in order to educate but outside of this, i currently do not interact with the queer community. once im off this blog, i'm not really interacting with queer community, i will talk to my queer friends and engage in my own queerness, but i am not thinking about the community for the vast majority of my day. i'm not interested in trying to casually go to a trans space and be misgendered all the time.
i immersed myself in my local punk community last year and all that happened to me was that i got a lot of hollow compliments, condescended to, talked over, fetishized, treated as a sex object, descriminated against, had people stop respecting me the instant they found out i was a trans man, had people try to tranny chase me for being a trans man with a vagina, got called too whiny and emotional, got accused of hating trans women because i'm a transmasc lesbian, got mocked for not having a penis, watched my roommate treat me with annoyance that wasn't there prior, felt alienated in my own home, and just in general felt ashamed that i wasn't an amab trans woman, because those were the only trans people who hung out there for any substantial amount of time
the transmascs and trans men never hung around for too long. the majority of the trans punks who showed up were transfem. like. almost all of them. it was rare to find another transmasc, and i can work a crowd, i don't feel scared or uncomfortable in crowds, so i will talk to just about anyone who acknowledges my presence. i met so many transfem punks that i've lost count, and about 3 or 4 transmascs. it frustrated me and took a while for me to realize why. that place was deeply transandrophobic. the regulars did not treat transmascs with kindness. i was actually sexually assaulted by one of the transfems there multiple times, and had another that was trying to come on to me because i have to do stretches for my lower back or else it locks up, and she saw this as an invitation for sex. my ex gf started treating me completely differently the second she discovered i didn't have a penis, to the point of actually progressing to yelling at me for being too whiny and emotional. the cis gay men that were there would talk about how breasts and vaginas were gross because they were gay men right next to me.
after leaving that community i feel so much better. i'm basically on my own, i don't mind it, that's how i like to live my life as a schizophrenic person, but outside of the way i interact with the community as someone who participates in education and activism, i don't really interact with queer communities. i'm tired of being harassed, targeted, insulted, misgendered, sexualized, and getting sexually assaulted.
this is the really sad truth right now. transmascs and trans men in particular usually live outside of queer communities. we are so alienated. that's the entire reason people think we don't exist. it's because so many people will not let us exist inside of queer spaces, so we have to live elsewhere. so many trans men end up having to have mostly cishet friends to avoid drama and harassment. it's not that we don't exist- it's that a lot of people just will not let us take up space in queer communities long enough for people to see how many of us there are. there are a lot of us, but we aren't being allowed to exist inside of queer spaces, so people trick themselves into thinking we're not real trans people
you do deserve better. i hope in time the trans community learns to treat trans men better. you don't deserve to have to alienate yourself like that, but that's just how things are right now. take care of yourself. you're important even if people don't want you to feel like you are.
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arbitrarykiwi · 2 days ago
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Third Times a Charm: Bodytalk 3/3
Nam-Gyu (Player 124) x AFAB Reader smut series
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Summary: you ran into him three separate times. First was at a house party, second time was at a club. And like his favorite drugs, he was addicted. The third time? Well he wasn’t going to let you get away so easy. Third times a charm and he was going to get his fix. ((Non-squid game au))
Warnings: smut (18+), LONG (guys..I thought 6k for the last one was bad….this is 11k words...I couldn't help myself), drug usage (only weed this time lol), smoking weed, sex while high, stalker! Namgyu themes, fem centered pet names, divider added were smut starts for convenience, he calls the reader a bitch once, he’s fucking nasty, this is straight porn- v little plot, i feel like i need to go to confession, p in v sex, oral ( f receiving ), fingering, squirting, dirty talk (he really can’t keep his mouth shut), choking, spitting, multiple orgasms, creampie (have safe sex), there's probably more- read at your own risk, was proof read but I am dyslexic.
Previous chapters: Taste Test: 1/3 , Oral Fixation: 2/3
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The third time you met him- he came to your place.
You were doing chores around your place- candles were lit, Spotify was playing loudly on the large living room TV rotating through your favorite songs, and even cookies were baking in the oven!
It was two days after your run in with Nam-Gyu at the club. All you could think about was him. The new energy that his interactions gave you was a welcomed motivation. However, to say you were a little nervous he wouldn’t text you was an understatement, you were terrified.
You eased your worries about his absence when you thought about how the last time he was with you- he had to leave with a drug deal gone awry- and you’re familiar enough with the scene to know how time consuming and stressful dealing with that could be.
Still, the absence of him hit you more than you thought it would. He truly had you wrapped around his finger.
To rid yourself of the thoughts, you continued to busy yourself with cleaning your apartment. Soon the oven chimed off a ‘ding’ letting you know the cookies were done. You clapped to yourself, walking to the oven, grabbing the pot holders and pulling the tray out of the oven.
While they cooled you poured yourself a drink, leaning on the counter and looking at your clean place with a sense of accomplishment. You took a sip from the cup and began to think of what else needed to be done.
You pushed yourself back off from the counter, figuring you could get some laundry done. Before you could take a step your phone pinged. Figuring it was just an app notification or one of your friends, you make your way over to your phone with no abnormal excitement.
But when grabbed your phone of the kitchen island and the screen turned on, your heart caught in your throat
‘How’s my pretty girl doing?’
The text came from an unknown number. It blared on your locked home screen as you reread it over and over, your heart rate spiking- you could feel your heart beat in your chest.
‘How’s my pretty girl doing?’ It was like he already claimed you as his, whether you liked it or not.
You unlocked your phone with shaky, excited hands, opening the message, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you try to think about what to say.
You begin to type when three floating dots pop up, signaling he’s typing again.
‘I’m sorry for not texting you sooner. You really were all I was thinking about. Texted you as soon as I could.’
‘Let me make it up to you? I want to see you’
The texts come in one after the other, in rapid succession. It was if he knew you had your phone open to his messages- just watching his texts come through.
‘You gonna roll for me? Make it worth my time?’ You text back with a small laugh to yourself. You know he’s worth your time- well worth it. But you gotta give him some hell for making you wait so long to hear from him! You see the three dots pop up on your phone screen, you bite your lip as you watch him begin to type.
‘Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t? I even got some new shit I can bring, all for you.’
You smile at your phone, leaning on your kitchen counter and re-reading his message over and over. You finally begin typing to respond, ‘Now you’re speaking my language, come over at 7?’ , you hit send.
‘Sounds like a plan, I’ll be there.’
You don’t even bother texting him your address, remembering at the club how he told you he already found your address. The idea of him seemingly stalking you should have set you off, but here you are inviting that same handsome stalker over- and doing it excitedly.
You returned to your room to get more presentable. Fixing your hair, putting on the cute new lounge set you just got, and spraying some perfume- you excitedly got ready.
You walked back to the living room, settling in on the couch and turning on some random show to try and settle your excited nerves.
A couple hours passed and before you knew it, a knock resounded at your front door
You quickly stood up from the couch walking to the front door. Your heart was in your chest. This was the first time you and him would be alone. It was about time. The thought of it made your head spin.
You reached the door, hand moving to unlock the silver dead bold. With a resounding ‘click’ your hand grips the door knob and pulls the door open.
He stood there with a grin, one of his hands in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers.
Your breath catches in your throat- you mind reeling. The gesture, the flowers alone, was sweet. Already a large contrast to your flings with him. Hell, he fingered you in someone’s house and face fucked you in his office at a club- you guys weren’t exactly the most romantic pair.
But the fact they were your favorite? That can’t be a coincidence. His smile widens when he sees your expression. “You post an awful lot about your favorite flowers. Your friends get you some every year for your birthday, hard to miss in most pictures on your page.” He quips, stepping forward and running his fingers around your waist and wrapping his arm around your back.
His head tilts to the side as he looks you over. Yet again, he was taking it into his own hands to get to know you- stalking your socials to get to know little details about you. It was endearing in a way. You take the flowers with a wide smile. “You’re such a creep. Thank you.” You say with a giggle, standing up a bit taller to lean in and place a small kiss on his jaw.
You hear him take in a large breath, his hand pulling you into him and gripping your waist just the slightest bit harder when your lips touch his skin. It’s like he’s trying to restrain himself.
“Callin’ me a creep, yet you still let me cum down your throat. What’s that say about you, hm?” He says, dropping his head to begin pressing kisses down your neck and over your shoulder.
You laugh, his lips tickling you as you stumble back. You try to pull away, well ‘try’ is an overstatement. You feebly writhe against him, a joke of an attempt to get away from him to try and close your apartment door.
He laughs against your neck, his lips continuing to trace along your neck. His leg kicks behind him, shutting your door for you, his arm that’s not around your waist reaches behind him to lock the door.
He pulls away finally, his head tilting back upright to look at you. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your bottom lip. “‘M sorry for keeping you waiting.” He says in a low voice, nearly a whisper as he looks you over.
You hum, smiling and lifting a hand up to hold his cheek, thumb rubbing a circle along his skin as you tilt your head like you’re thinking. “I suppose I can forgive you…” you say with a pout that immediately turns into a laugh.
He watches as you laugh and he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and your laugh is the most enchanting sound he’d ever hear. He can’t help but to pull you closer to him by your waist, your chest pressing against his as he catches your lips in a kiss.
It catches you by surprise, a sound like a small squeak comes out into the kiss. But when the feeling of his lips is finally on yours once again, you simply melt into him. Your legs feel like you go limp, his arm around your back only thing keeping you up as your lips move against his. The kiss is surprisingly soft and meticulous like he’s been without the feeling of your lips for too long. And to him he has.
As he pulls away, his hand dances along your spine.
You guys stand there for a moment, just staring at each other. You break the silence, realizing the hand that holds the large bouquet of your favorite flowers is causing your hand to ache as it’s held up in the air. “I gotta find a vase for these.” You say, nodding your head over to the flowers in your hand. He nods, “I suppose you’re right.” He says with a chuckle, placing another quick kiss against your lips before releasing you.
You walk over into your kitchen, leaning on the counter and reaching up to pull open a cabinet. Grabbing a vase and turning around to the kitchen island where the sink was beginning to fill the vase up with water.
He leans over the opposite side of the kitchen island just watching your every move. As you begin to unwrap the flowers he got you, grabbing a pair of scissors to cut the stems, you look up at him. “So did you bring your ‘new shit’?” You tease, referring to his texts.
He laughs nodding and reaching one hand back into his back pocket, pulling out a heady bag of weed and placing it on the counter and shrugging. “Your offering ma’am.” He says with a wink. It has you giggling. You continue to cut the stems, squinting your eyes and looking at the bag skeptically with a smile “hmm…I’ll allow it.” You say in a fake prissy tone that has him laughing along with you.
You finish cutting the flowers, tossing the cut stems in the trash nearby and gathering the gorgeous blooms. you place the flowers in the vase. You step back and just stare at them, they’re your favorite yes- but it looks like each flower is pristine, in full bloom and the most vibrant it can be, like the hand picked each one out to create the best bouquet.
“Thank you again, they’re gorgeous…” You say with a smile, looking back over to him. You find him staring at you with his chin resting against his palm, elbow resting on the countertop. He’s looking at you with such a genuine, enamored gaze. “Of course, sweetheart. Someone like you deserves only the best.” He says with a wink.
You move around the counter next to him, mirroring how he leans over the counter. Your hands reach to the bag of weed on the counter and drag it towards you. You twirl it in your hands then turn to him. “So you gonna make good of your other promise and roll f’me?” You say, leaning closer to him, your noses practically touching. “You got it princess.” He mumbles, placing slow kiss on your lips. “Lead the way.” He says pulling away, a hand reaching back to slap your ass.
You giggle, spinning around to begin to lead him down the hall to your bedroom.
So there you found yourselves, in your room, laid out on your bed. He’s behind you, legs spread open leaving a perfect space for you to be. You’re leaned back between his legs, back against his chest, your legs crossed- holding up the rolling tray that’s covered in broken down weed.
His arms are around you, chin resting on your shoulder. His hands work to fill in the wrap with the weed. His fingers working a practice that has you mesmerized. The silver rings adorning his fingers reflect the distorted colors of the TV show you guys had playing. The veins of his hand pop out and you watch the way they move and flex with every movement he does.
From out of the corner of his eyes he sees you’re no longer watching the show, your eyes are locked on his hands as he begins to roll up the blunt.
You feel him chuckle, bringing you out of your trance. “You’re not even paying attention to the show.” He says before placing a quick kiss on your jaw. You giggle turning your head to place a proper kiss on his lips with a smile.
“‘M sorry, you have nice hands and they look really good rolling.” You say pulling away and looking down to watch him begin to roll up the blunt. He laughs, following your gaze.
He holds it up to you, the small section of the wrap not rolled sticks up out of the blunt. “Do the honors..” he says, nodding to the blunt. You look to him and smile, knowing exactly what he wants you to do. Your tongue darts out of your lips to run against the expanse of the wrap that was sticking up, wetting it.
As you do it you can feel his eyes on you, watching your mouth and tongue closely. He hums in approval as you finish, folding the flap over and sealing the blunt.
He takes the lighter from off of the rolling tray, flicking it and dragging the tip of the flame over the blunt, drying the part you licked and sealing it.
He transfers the blunt to one hand, the other wraps itself around you, caging you into him. He adjusts himself, leaning back more, guiding you with him to lay back on his chest. As he does it you can feel his cock drag against your back. You feel filthy about it, you can tell he’s not even hard, and all you’re thinking about is his dick against your back.
Your thoughts are cut short when you slowly start to feel the swelling of the start of an erection in his jeans. You sigh with a soft laugh thankful you’re not the only one who’s so worked up.
He nuzzles his cheek against your hair as his leans his arms forward more, lighting the blunt. You relax into him, he’s so warm, you think. Your eyes flick back to the TV, watching whatever was going on in the show as he takes the first hit.
The blunt is soon put infront of your lips, all you have to do is pick your head up the slightest bit. You wrap your lips around the blunt and inhale, leaning back on his chest as you blow the smoke upwards.
His hand that doesn’t hold the blunt moves under your shirt, his fingertips dancing along your the skin of your stomach in light motions.
He passes it back to you again, you repeat the same motions and take a slow inhale, exhaling the smoke in a slow plume of smoke. You can feel your body becoming lighter, a warmth rushing over your insides as your eyelids become heavy. “You really did bring the good shit.” You say with a laugh, your eyes rolling back to look at him behind you.
“I don’t lie about my product.” He says taking a hit himself, his hand traveling farther up your shirt and resting just under your bra, his thumb rubbing circles on the center of your sternum. You nod, can’t argue with that. “Glad you like it.” He adds, blowing out the smoke then placing a kiss on the top of your head.
His hips cant upwards, dragging his hardening cock along your back, you can’t help but to whine and try to grind your hips back onto him. His hand resting under your bra moves down your stomach and down your pubic bone. His fingers dance along your inner thighs as he places the blunt back in front of your face.
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You take your hit, holding it in for a bit before releasing your breath. His hands inch inwards, his fingers dancing along your clothed cunt, ghosting over you in feather light touches that begins to make a bubbling warmth in your build in your lower stomach.
You bite your lip, holding in a moan as you jerk your hips into his touch. His palm rests on your pubic bone as his fingers rub up and down your pussy over the fabric of your clothes.
“Take your pants off, pretty.” He hums, hitting the blunt, watching as you quickly grip the waist band of your pants, lift your hips and pull them down and off your legs, throwing them to the side. You go to do the same thing with your panties when he stops you. “I didn’t say take those off.” He scolds. You whimper and nod, your bottom lip catching in your teeth as you settle back down.
His eyes train onto your panties. They’re lace with a cute little bow on the front. Similar to the ones you had on when he first met you. He smiles fondly at the memory, his hand returning to your lower stomach. His fingers dance along the lace top of your panties, gripping at the fabric and pulling up. It creates a delicious drag along your clit that has your head falling back against his chest.
He repeats the motion a couple times before letting the fabric go, his fingers moving further downwards to dance along your clit over your panties. He lets out a low laugh, feeling how wet your panties have already gotten, your arousal beginning to leak through the fabric. “Already so excited to see me…” he says.
You shiver, the way he says it you can tell he’s not talking to you- he’s talking to your pussy.
It has you whining and gyrating your hips against his hand. He slaps his hand against your cunt, each time his hand connects you jump.
You can’t take it, you quickly sit up, turning around on your knees to face fim, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. It’s a mess of tongue and teeth as he kisses you back, his tongue exploring your mouth with a determination that has you spinning.
As the kiss continues to get more heated you feel him guide you backwards by your hips, the lit blunt hanging loosely between the fingers of his left hand. He guides you up, allowing both of you to sit up on your knees. He still towers over you, having to bend his back to lean and continue the kiss. His hands are all over you in a frenzy, yours soon following.
As your mouths move together, your hands run up his shirt, lightly scratching at his abdomen. He sighs into the kiss you can feel his stomach tense under your touch. When you move your back down his stomach and to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it, he pulls back- placing the blunt in his mouth and tilting it down. His hands grip the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the side of your room. He removes the blunt from his mouth and attaches his lips right back on yours
Your hands move along his bare chest and stomach, feeling all of him. The heat of his bare skin under your palms has you whining into the kiss. Soon he’s mimicking your motion, free hand crawling up your shirt to grope at your breasts over your bra.
This time you pull away, pulling your shirt over your head and reaching back to unhook your bra- attaching your lips right back on his in a rush. You can feel him chuckle into your mouth at your equal enthusiasm.
His hand returns to your chest, his hand splaying over the plush of your breast before kneading it. His fingers pinch at your nipple, pulling at it as he breaks away from the kiss. As he releases your nipple, he watches as your breast jiggles when it drops back into place.
His chest is heaving, his tongue wetting his lips as he looks you over. “You had no idea how bad I missed your lips…missed you.” He mumbles, his free hand not holding the still smoking blunt runs up your waist. It makes you shiver. “You could have come by sooner…” you pout.
He laughs, his hand coming up to cup your face “I know, I would if I could have. But I’m here now and you’re not getting rid of me.” You smile and lean into his hand, turning your face to kiss his palm.
As he watches you nuzzle into his palm, he lifts his other hand holding the blunt to his mouth and takes a long inhale. His hand on your face moves to the back of your neck, pulling you forward into an open mouth kiss, letting the smoke rain into your mouth. You inhale and melt into him, your hands finding purchase on his abdomen.
He pulls back from the kiss, smoke still swirling between your mouths when he feels your hands trail down his stomach and begin to work at the button of his pants. His hand that doesn’t hold the blunt catches your wrists. The size difference has you whimpering. His one hand is large enough to encase both your wrists, stopping you from getting what you wanted.
“As much as I love the way your mouth feels around my cock, tonight’s all about you sweet girl.” He hums, pushing you by the wrists so you sit back up on your knees, giving him enough space to mirror your position.
He raises from his sitting position on the bed to sitting on his knees, pulling you back forward by your wrists. Your breasts press against his chest, his hand still holding your wrists together and down in between the two of you. He brings his other hand up to his mouth, taking a long drag from the blunt.
In the low light of your room the cherry of the blunt burns a vibrant red-orange hue, lighting up his face in an upward light. He’s so handsome it’s downright sickening. You can’t help but stare. His eyes never stray from yours as he moves his hand back down to his side. He blows the smoke out. His eyes are hooded, tinged red and hazy.
He guides your hands up in front of his face, still held by his one hand. He places a gentle kiss on each of your palms before releasing your hands hand passing the blunt back to you.
You take the blunt- frozen. Your mouth hung open. “Hit it.” He says nodding to the blunt. When you don’t move he returns his hand to your one wrist and guides your own hand to your mouth. You finally hit the blunt, inhaling. “There you go…” he hums with a grin.
When you begin to blow out the smoke his hands grab your waist and spin you around, throwing you down onto your bed- head sinking into the plush pillows. You let out a squeak of surprise, your hand that holds the blunt lying limply out to your side, wrist quirked up so the lit end wouldn’t touch any of the fabric on your bed. He’s hovering over you, between your legs with a smirk.
He pulls back, sitting back on his heels, removing a black hair tie that’s around his wrist. In a quick moment, in motions that are practiced, his hair is put up in a small pony tail. It’s half up and half down, small hairs falling out around his face that refused to stay up in the elastic.
It was so fucking hot.
You must have been staring, mouth agape, because he laughs. He leans back down, hand cupping your face, holding your cheek to make you look at him. “That hot to you?” He says with a grin. You don’t answer, just looking at him with a doe eyed look that has his cock growing even more.
His hand taps your cheek a couple times, bringing you back out of your daze. “C’mon you’re a big girl, use your words.” He taunts, but you know it’s also an order as he returns his hand to cup your face and give your face a harsh squeeze.
“F-fuck yes it is…” you say with a smile, a breathless laugh and a nod, reaching up to his face and pulling him down to you. You kiss him with a fury, one that takes him off guard for a split second before he’s kissing you back with just as much fever. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, your mouth falling open in response. He sucks on your tongue in a dexterous manner. It has you whining into his mouth and arching your back off the bed, pressing your chest into him.
He laughs into the kiss, pulling away to begin leaving opened mouth kisses along your neck. His teeth leaving marks that blossom along your skin in his wake. He kisses down your chest, his mouth sucking purple bruises on the swell of one of your breasts while his hand reaches up to envelope the other one in his girl.
You’re helpless under him, a panting mess the feeling of his tongue along your skin only leaves your panties to become even wetter, beginning to stick to your cunt, the fabric several shades darker that what it’s supposed to be.
His warm mouth engulfs your nipple, tongue circling around it in a methodical pattern, teeth grazing over it every so often. When he feels your hips begin to thrust into the air, a desperate attempt for your cunt to get any sort of simulation, his own hips thrust into the mattress of your bed, rubbing his stiff, clothed cock against the plush bedding.
His teeth pull your nipple, letting it go with a ‘pop’ as he begins to kiss down your stomach. He stops when he gets to the top of your panties, pulling away to sit up and look at you.
He takes all of you in, his eyes moving over you slowly, looking over each one of the red bite marks and blooming purple bruises that litter your skin. His hands run up your waist, growling at how small you look under his grasp. His hands squeeze your waist as he speaks, “I’ve been thinking about the taste of your pussy since that time at the house party….” He says, his eyes still tracing over your body.
You can’t help but bite your lip at his words, your chest heaving with a large breath. “You know how fucking hard I had to beat my dick after I cleaned your cum off my fingers just to think straight again?” He admits through a hissing tone, his hands squeezing your waist hard enough to make you whine before letting up.
You look up at him with pleading eyes, your cunt practically making a pool on the sheets below you, coating your inner thighs in a shining mess. You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off, “and I just know…” he drawls on, his hands returning down to your hips, gripping your panties, pulling the fabric away from your flesh, “that a cute thing like you has a perfect pussy to match.” He finishes, snapping the elastic back against your skin. It makes you jump and arch into him.
He laughs at your reaction, running his hands over the stinging skin to soothe it before he grips the fabric once again. This time, he pulls it down, you lift your hips off the bed to help him pull the lace down and over your ass. He laughs, watching as strings of your arousal that are connecting your cunt to your panties eventually snap.
When he pulls the cloth fully off of you he slides his hands up your thighs, slowly pushing them open, putting you on display for him.
He sucks in a breath and lets out a low, feral sounding growl, as he looks at your bare cunt for the first time. “Ohhh….” He coos, his hands massaging your thighs, “and I was right…look at you…” he hums, his eyes flicking up to look at your face. When he sees you’re not looking at him, but instead bashfully looking to the side, he leans forward, bringing one of his hands from your thigh up to face, “Look at me.” He demands, turning your head forward so you were forced to look at him, “There you are sweet girl…” he says when you meet his eyes. “Want you to watch.” He adds leaning in and placing a slow kiss on your lips.
You obey, watching him sink down and begin trailing soft kisses from your navel, down your stomach, down your pubic bone then placing one last kiss on your clit.
When his hands adjusted to wrap around your thighs and he licked his lips, getting his first taste of you tonight, he was in heaven. He’s on your pussy immediately, his tongue working over the expanse of your pussy with no real set motion- he was just tasting you.
He was eating you like a man starved, like the arousal you secreted was the water he needed to live. Like a man drunk on the finest, most expensive liquor, he was slurping you into his mouth with a newfound desire.
When his tongue enveloped your clit in a long flat stripe, you cry out for him, your knuckles turning white from the grip you had on your sheets. He begins to suck your clit in and out of his mouth, any time it passes the soft, plushness of his lips, his tongue was on it in languid flicks. It’s all so much, it has your body twitching with pleasure, your body trying to move back on the bed, like you’re trying to run from the pleasure he’s giving you.
“None of that.” He growls, pulling you back to him by your hips. “No running away.” He says, emphasizing his words by licking a wide stripe up your pussy. “I’ve waited too long to taste your fucking cunt, and I’m going to take my time with you.” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs. His eyes are shadowed by his lashes but the hungry glint in his eyes is impossible to miss. His large hands trail upward to the crease of your thighs, pushing them open.
He dives back in, like a man starved. His tongue circles your clit in slow movements. The slurping sounds he’s making is straight up pornographic. He’s dragging it out in an almost sadistic slowness, twisting his tongue in skilled figure eight motions along your clit. He pulls back, sucking your clit into his mouth before releasing it with an obscene ‘pop’ of his mouth. The motion has your back arching up like a cat, your hips desperately chasing his mouth.
He pushes you back down, his hands gripping at your thighs, leaving crescent shaped imprints where his fingernails dug into your flesh. “You’re wasting the blunt.” He says, a wicked grin on his face. You don’t even register what he’s saying, your eyes closed and your head thrown back. But the feeling of his heavenly tongue does not return, he’s not resuming.
You open your eyes and look down at him. He’s looking up at you like a snake ready to have its meal. “The blunt. You’re wasting it.” He repeats, nodding over to the blunt that hangs limply in your hand.
Oh the blunt. You completely forgot about it with the way his tongue was working against you. “I-“ your voice cracks, it’s shameful and you can do nothing to hide it. “I-It’s a little hard to hit it…” you manage to get out. He shrugs, resting his chin on your tummy. “And you’re wasting it.” He says simply, his grin widening.
You suck in a shuddering breath, bending your arm and bringing the blunt to your lips. He nods slowly. You wrap your lips around the blunt and begin to inhale.
His hands move under your legs, lifting your hips the slightest bit so he can wrap his hands around the tops of your plush thighs, yanking you down the bed and back onto his mouth. He resumes, his mouth enveloping your pussy in a shameless manner. You whine around the blunt, it’s a muffled sound that has him chuckling against you. The vibrations of his laugh only add to the sensations causing you to grind your hips onto his tongue.
He hums against you, watching you carefully as you exhale the smoke, your head falling backwards against the pillows. Your moans ring out through your bedroom, only making him more excited.
Your moans to him are like an instant drug rush, like a violent high that crashes into him- causing him to pull you into his tongue. And when his tongue pushes its way into your velvety walls, you cry out a wanton sound that has him humping your mattress.
You knew the drill- not wanting him to stop you bring your shakey hand to your mouth and take another drag of the blunt. The weed only causing the feeling of his tongue to become even more formidable.
Humming around your clit in approval, his tongue worked around you, lowering itself to your entrance and twisting around it teasingly. He tried to restrain himself, he really did, but the way you squeezed around the tip of his tongue had him diving straight into your cunt. You tasted like the sweetest honey- squeezing around his tongue in pulsing movements, dripping more and more of your essence onto his wet muscle. He moans into your pussy. His eyes rolling back into his head as he swears your cunt is sucking his tongue in, never wanting to let go.
You whine as he pulls away. Your pussy exposed to the cold air of the room. He stares down at your cunt, his mouth and chin glistening with your arousal.
His hands release his grip on your thighs, pulling themselves from under you and splaying themselves on your inner thighs. One of his hands removes itself from your thigh, rubbing along the entirety of your cunt. He’s truly just playing with you, watching as sticky webs of your wetness cling to his fingers and the lips of your pussy. Every movement making a raunchy squelching sound. And all you can do is just moan and writhe under him.
And his eyes are still trained on your cunt. His head turning and lowering, resting his cheek on your thigh, hot breath fanning against your pussy as he simply admires how wet you are. “Such a pretty pussy…” he mumbles, more to himself than you.
His thumbs rub along your labia, spreading the mess of your own arousal and his spit. You moan out suddenly when his thumbs spread you open. It’s shameful, and debauched. “So wet f’me, huh?” He says his eyes flicking back up to you. His hand lifting from you and spreading his ringed fingers, showing how your wetness webs between his fingers. You nod frantically, your hips bucking up into the air desperate for more simulation.
His eyes flick back down to your cunt, hands retuning to their spot, spreading you wide open for him. Watching as your pussy helplessly clenches around nothing, pupils dilating even more when he watches a thick trail of your wetness drip out of you. Thumbs still keeping your thighs back and cunt spread open, he dives back in, his tongue collecting the creamy bead of arousal on his tongue before licking up to your clit with a loud slurp. You cry out, your moans like a song to him.
He pulls back, making a show of swallowing. You’re embarrassed, being so spread out like this. His thumbs are massaging in and out of your opening, spreading you even more before removing themselves, repeating the motion over and over. Your thighs fight against his hands. He immediately lifts himself up more, pushing your legs back down in a harsh movement.
“You better fuckin’ keep your legs open.” He warns. You bite your lip and nod, your body twitching under his hold, but you keep your legs open. His hand slide back to your inner thighs, thumbs resuming their prior placement of spreading your cunt wide open for him. Your dripping hole and puffy clit on full display.
You watch as he sucks his teeth, purses his lips and spits directly on your cunt. You can’t help but let out an obscene whine, eyes rolling in to the back of your head. He’s back on your pussy in an instant, tongue moving around the entrance of your cunt before pushing back into your gummy walls.
You scream out in pleasure, your hands reaching down to grip at his scalp. When your fingernails scratch at his skin, pulling at his hair he moans into you, moving with more vigor.
He settles back intro the bed, arms going back under your thighs and wrapping his hands around them, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth. He shakes his head in your cunt pulling back with his tongue lolled out of his mouth for breath. “Taste so fucking good…” he murmurs against your pussy, licking a stripe up the entirety of you for emphasis, pulling back again “Could eat you all fuckin’ day…”, he says his fingers reaching across your pubic bone and circling his fingers against your clit.
You cry out and twitch against his hand, you wanted to…no, needed to cum. You pull at his hair, trying to bring his mouth back onto your pussy but he resists. His eyes move from watching your pussy drip for him to watching your flushed face. “You know better than that…” he says in a low warning, the look on his face alone is enough to remind you of his earlier remarks.
Use your words
“Please N-Nam-Gyu”, you stutter out, “I need to cum. Please, your m-mouth, your f-fingers, any-Oh! Fuck!”you’re cut of when he replaces his still fingers with his mouth, his lips wrapping around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud in soft, fast motions. Your head falls back onto the pillows, your chest heaving with heavy, panting breaths.
The hand that was just playing with your clit slides off your thigh, his leaving a wet trail of your arousal around the flesh as he pulls his hand back. His fingers circle your entrance, two digits slip in easily. He moans against your clit as he feels the sweet, warm, grip of your cunt around his fingers. “So tight…” He murmurs against your clit.
His fingers work expertly, thrusting into you and curling up, the motion making lewd squelching sounds every time he was knuckles deep inside of you. His tongue never let up, switching between licking at your clit and sucking it into his mouth. “Squeezing’ my fingers so hard…” he words muffled by your cunt, “You gonna even be able to take my cock?” He mocks, scissoring his fingers inside you for emphasis. It has you moaning in pitch and tone that you didn’t even think you were capable of emitting.
His fingers switch back to the repetitive curling motion that has you seeing stars. When his fingers curl up in just the right way, you keen over, curling up and pressing his face into your cunt with a loud squeal “oh fuck! Right there!” You cry out, flopping back down onto the bed breathlessly.
He hums into your pussy, fingers never moving from where you needed them most. With every stroke of that soft spongy spot inside of you, you’re coming closer to your orgasm.
You feel like you can’t even think straight, your vision is hazy. All you can do is grind down onto his fingers and tongue. “You gonna cum on my tongue?” He says, looking up at you, his lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “I can feel your squeezing my fingers. Gonna make a mess f’me?” He speaks against your cunt. You nod frantically, hips jerking violently against his tongue. “S-shit…” you cry through clenched teeth, it felt so fucking good, you bite your lip and manage to moan out a “Uh-huh,” as you feel yourself about to cum.
His pace speeds up, it’s a violent onslaught of pleasure that has you orgasm wracking through your body violently. You can hear your cum gush out of you, a pornographic, sloshing sound. He chuckles against you, quickly removing his fingers and replacing them with his mouth, his tongue working you through your orgasm, drinking up every last drop of your cum that gushes out of you.
You writhe against his face, twitching against the bed, your breath coming out in choked gasps. You have pull his head away by his hair to get him to stop. When you look down you whine, the view just has you ready to cum again right then.
His head is held up by your hands entangled in his dark hair, the ponytail he put his hair in was disheveled, his tongue was lolled out of his mouth, like he was trying to return to begging tongue deep in your pussy, his saliva and your cum dripping off the tip of his tongue and pooling in a sinful puddle on your pubic bone. He grins, his eyes hooded and pupils blown.
“You still with me, sweetheart?” He coos, his breath tickling your pussy causing you to twitch again. You nod, brushing his hair that has fallen out of the elastic tie, out of his face. “Mhm…felt so fuckin’ good.” You praise him. He smiles, his lips, chin, nose, and even his neck are coated in your cum.
He sits up, walking his hands up the bed on each side of you until he’s hovering over your face. “Want you to taste yourself.” He says as he lowers his face, kissing you without giving you time to respond. You moan into the kiss, tasting yourself own cum on his lips. Your hands come to cradle each side of his face, pulling I’m impossibly closer to you, your mouth opening to accept his tongue excitedly.
He adjusts himself so he’s back on his knees, his hands pulling your hips up onto his. Your back is lifted partially off the bed. He’s hunched over to continue kissing you, his jean clad erection beginning to grind into your pussy.
He continues his movements, moaning into your mouth. In his head he scolds himself, it’s shameful how much dry humping is effecting him. He swears he could cum in his pants then and there as he can feel the wetness of your pussy soak not only through his jeans but his boxers the longer he continues the slow grind of his hips into you.
He has to pull away, pulling away from you to stand up off the bed and rid himself of his pants and boxers. He’s back on the bed in an instant, slotting himself exactly where he just was. He pushes your thighs back, putting you on perfect display for him.
His cock rests heavy against your cunt. He draws his hips back, his hand holding the base of his dick as he slaps it once, twice, three times against your pussy. Each time you jump, your bottom lip becoming caught between your teeth as you whine, wanting more of him.
He’s doesn’t grant you that solace though instead he runs his cock through your folds, his fat cock-head bumping against your puffy clit. “You were squeezing the life out of my two fingers…” he muses, watching the way his cock splits your pussy lips open everytime he thrusts his hips forward. “It will be a miracle if my cock can fit inside you..” he hums with a condescending tone, the head of his dick just barely pressing into you before pulling back and resuming to rub against you.
You let out a soft moan , not being able to hold it in any more. “Hmm…” he moans “You sound so cute.” He praises, his eyes never straining from where you to meet. “I can take it. I will.” You say desperate, sitting up to look down to see his view. And when you do, you let out a wanton moan that has cock jumping.
“Yeah you will..” He lets out in a low rasp as he begins to push his cock into you. It’s a stretch that has you arching your back off the bed like a cat. When the fat head of his cock sinks all the way into you, you both let out a loud, blissful sigh.
Not even half way in and your pussy is milking his dick for all it’s worth. He shudders, beginning to think he might not even fit inside you if you’re squeezing him this hard. “Sweetheart…” he slurs, his eyes closed and eyebrows screwed together in concentration. “Ya’ gotta relax…you’re choking my dick.” He says in a strangled voice, sinking in just a bit more.
His eyes open to look down at where he’s sinking into your weeping pussy. His hand splaying on top of your pubic bone, his thumb reaching down to rub circles on your clit. A moan is forced out of you at the sensation, your cunt relaxing, causing him to slip in half way. Your moans come out and echo each other. Feeling half his cock being surrounded by your spasming tightness has him letting out a choked wine and falling over you, his hand catching himself, falling next to his head.
“You are so fucking tight.” He hisses, dropping down onto his elbow so he can lower his head to the crook of your neck. You can hear his labored breath tenfold now, his nose right under your ear. He draws his hips back, letting out a low moan as he feels how you squeeze around him- like your cunt is trying to suck him back in. He thrusts his hips back forward, sinking further into you.
You writhe against him, whining a pathetic mix of his name and pleading for him to just fuck you. When your hands remove themselves from gripping the sheets and reach up to wrap around his back, nails digging into his shoulders and your legs wrap around him, heels digging into his lower back- he drives his hips back once more, roughly thrusting his hips forward and finally bullying his cock balls deep into your cunt.
You let out a choked moan of his nails dragging down his back. You can hear him moan a low “Fuuuuckkk.” Before grinding his pelvis into your ass, basking in the feeling of being fully inside you.
You can’t help but pant out sharp rapid breaths, you feel so full. “Oh my god…” you whine out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull when he continues the slow grind of his hips. “Y-you’re s-so fucking b-big.” You sob out. He kisses your neck a few times before sitting back up. He watches how your lips are parted, eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving like it’s too much- but you still take it.
“I know, princess…I know..” he says with almost a chuckle at how you struggle to take him but you’re so set on doing so. He leans down to kiss you, you feebly kiss back as best you can even when you can’t stop moaning. He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting on yours as he draws his hips back and begins to set a brutal pace of hammering his cock into your cunt.
He keeps his forehead against yours, wanting to feel the way your breath jumps with each thrust. His bottom lip catches between his teeth when he feels your nails continue to rake down his back.
You manage to open your eyes for a brief second, the view above you is absolutely sinful. His hair has long since fallen out of the ponytail, the strands falling and framing his face and covering you in a shadow. The silver chain that hung around his neck dangled over you, swaying with each thrust of his hips. Your eyes dart to either side of you- to his arms that are planted on either side of your head. His biceps are large the muscles flexing. Tattoos litter his forearms and upper arms. You try to make a mental note to look at them later in more detail because you can hardly keep your eyes open- eventually losing the fight. Your eyes roll back as a loud moan falls from your lips as his cock continues to ruin your pussy.
He pushes himself up once more, leaning back to look down at your cunt. He growls under his breath when he sees the white ring of your arousal that is collecting at the base of his dick. He watches as he spears his thick dick into you. He thinks then that the sight of your cunt stretched open obscenely wide around his cock will forever be one of his favorite views.
His hands grip your hips, pulling you to meet every one of his harsh thrusts. It’s a force that has your bed creaking. You feel the warmth building in your lower abdomen, a white hot feeling expanding in the deepest parts of your cunt. Your moans only get louder and higher pitched, your hands reaching up to grope at your own tits.
When he sees this, his eyes “Nasty fuckin’ bitch…you’re close huh?” He says with a sadistic lilt to his voice. Hits one that has your eyebrows upturning into a desperate state, your head nodding, “Y-yes, fuck yes.” You whine out, your hips beginning to gyrate as he thrusts into you, never letting up.
He increases his pace. It’s a hot, sticky mess. You can hear it each time his balls slap against your ass. One hand removes itself from your hip, his fingers coming to play with your clit as he continues his brutal pace. He moans, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he feels you clench even harder around him.
“You gonna make a mess on my cock?” He asks, turning his head back down to look at you and your frantic nod. He watches as you try to speak but are cut off pathetically by your whines. “Do it, come on, pretty girl. Wanna feel you cum.” He says, his fingers working faster on your clit.
It doesn’t take long before you snap, letting out a high pitched, choked scream. You cum, and you cum hard. “Fuck! M’cumming….holy fuck!” You nearly screech, your back arching high off the bed, hips pushing down into him like you could never have him deep enough. He lets out a strangled moan as he feels you spasm around him, rocking his cock into you to allow you to ride out your orgasm.
When you come back to earth, he’s kissing around your face. “You okay? Did I break you?” He says, kissing the corner of your mouth. You giggle and reach up to hold his face, turning him to kiss you properly. “M’okay…was s’good.” You slur against his lips, still in the blissful aftermath of your orgasm.
He laughs “Well that’s good…” he says, it sounds like he’s going to say more but he doesn’t. He hums, pulling his still hard cock out of you. You shut your eyes and wince as he does, the emptiness feeling odd. When you open your eyes he’s sitting back on his heels, looking at his cock that was covered in your cum. You let out a soft whimper when you watch him begin to fist his dick, his wrist twisting up and down- using your cum and lube. “….because we’re not done.” He says, his eyes darting back to you, finally finishing his sentence.
Your eyes widen and you have no time to register before he’s manhandling you onto your hands and knees. His hand pressing your back into an arch.
He kneels behind you, his hands massaging the globes of your ass as he admires your position. One of his thumbs trail inwards, rubbing a light circle on your clit, it has you whining, jerking away from his touch. “‘M sensitive.” You plead, looking back at him over your shoulder.
“Oh I know..” he murmurs, his thumb repeating the motion, but this time you arch into his touch. He laughs, “but look, you’re still so needy…” he says tilting his head mockingly. He fists the base of his cock, rubbing it between your folds.
“All that time you spend dancing on me…grinding your ass back on me….” He lists, dragging his dick up and down, up and down, collecting your cum and arousal on the tip of his dick, “…what I was really thinking about was bending your over and fucking you from behind like the whore you are for me.” He growls, canting his hips forward in a brutal motions, sinking all the way into you.
You moan out into the pillow, eyes rolling back into your head. hands fisting the soft fabric, bunching it into your grip as if it will ground you.
His hips slam into you at a brutal pace, the backs of your thighs and his pelvis coated with your arousal. Every thrust makes a sticky sound and as he pulls back it connects your skin to his in white strings. You cry into the pillow, his cock stretching your pussy in ways you didn’t think was possible. “So fuckin messy..” he hisses, pulling you back on his cock to meet his thrusts.
He’s so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach “F-fuck…o-oh my god…” you whine out, hands reaching back, trying to push on his stomach, it was so much. He scoffs at your weak attempt, the scoff turning into a groan as he feels your nails rake down his stomach. Even though you try to push him away, your cunt pulls him back in a vice like grip.
You moan into the pillow, arching your back further as incoherent babbles of ‘more’ and ‘please’ fall from your lips, your hands still pushing him away in a conflicting battle. He was really fucking you stupid.
He grips both your wrists, crossing your arms behind your back and keeping them pinned there with one hand. He pulls you up, your shoulder blades touching his bare chest. His other hand comes up to grip your throat.
As he hooks his chin over your shoulder, he thrusts once more into your cunt, balls slapping against the plush of your ass before he stills, beginning to roll his hips in a slow, a deep grind. Your breath hitches, truly feeling all of him inside you.
“Look at that…..” He says his breath tickling your ear. “Taking all of me so well…” He says, squeezing your throat just a bit harder. “Every. Fuckin. Inch.” He growls out, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips, bullying his cock even deeper into you.
“N-Nam-Gyu…h-holy shit.” You cry out, grinding your hips back into him, wanting more. He laughs at your desperation. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to fuck you….” He rasps. “Be inside this tight cunt..” He tightens his grip on your throat, just enough to cut off a bit of air.
You clench around him, the feeling cutting off his words. He falters, pulling you into him with a whine of his own. “Fucking Christ, you’re gonna kill me pretty girl…” he says, his lips attacking your neck, his hips resuming their movement.
He fucks up into you, your cunt making wet squelching sounds with each thrust. You can feel him moan and pant against your neck as his lips kiss along your jugular. His hand releases your neck and the other one, your wrists. His hands come up under your arms to run up your stomach and to your breasts.
His nose runs along your neck as he continues to fuck you. Every breath he takes, every groan that falls from his lips is right next to your ear. His hair that falls from the small ponytail tickles your shoulders. “I can feel you creamin’ all over me….so fucking wet.” He growls, his hands gripping at your tits, massaging the flesh as he continues to ruin your cunt.
It was all so, so, so much. It felt overwhelmingly good and his filthy praises only helped to make it so much better. Choked out whines and moans fall from your lips, you’re sure you’re drooling too. “All f’me huh?” He asks. You can’t even respond as his cock keeps hitting the soft spongy spot inside of your cunt that has you seeing stars.
He laughs at the lack of your response, his hands dropping your breasts and pushing you back down into the pillows by your waist. One of his hands immediately finds itself running up the back of your neck and entangling itself into a tight fist in your hair- shoving your face into the pillows as he slams his cock into you. “Awh c‘mon now…” he mocks, “I’ve hardly started and you’re already fucked stupid.” He says, his eyes trained on the way you throw your ass back to his pelvis in time with his thrusts.
He suddenly pulls out, one hand still in your hair- holding to cheek to the pillow, the other massaging the flesh of your ass. You whine at the loss of feeling, your cunt spasming around nothing desperately. “W-what…p-please!” You cry out, trying your best to turn to look at him.
He pouts, but it just as quickly turns into a wicked grin. “Thought I broke ya sweetheart. You couldn’t even answer me…not sure you can take it…” He teased, it’s evil, downright sadistic.
He removes his hand from your hair, sitting back on his heels. Both his hands are on your ass, squeezing and releasing the plush flesh before spreading you open to get a perfect view of your cunt. Red, puffy, and messy with arousal it’s a sight that makes his cock twitch.
“N-no! I can take it I swear!” You plead looking over your shoulder. You watch as he licks his lips while looking at your pussy then divert his gaze up to your face. “Then answer me.” He says demanding his answer.
Your lips part to answer but you’re cut off by his thumbs rubbing over the sides of your pussy, stopping at your clit to rub small circles, a moan coming out in place of an answer. “I guess I have to repeat myself…” he muses with a chuckle, “You’re this wet all for me, hm?” He repeats.
“Yes! All for you! F-fuck, s’all for you.” You whine, your hips pushing back into his hands. He laughs to himself, spreading your cunt wider, muttering an “I know.”, his smirk audible, before dipping his head lower and attaching his mouth to your cunt, tongue diving into your warm walls before removing itself to play with your clit.
Before you can even push your hips back he sits up, running one of his hands up the curve of your ass before resting on your hip. The other holds the base of his cock, running his weeping head along your pussy.
You arch your back further, trying to push yourself back into him. He sinks into you , but only a few inches before pulling out, repeating the motion a couple times as he watches your cunt hold the shape of his cock, stretched open, before clenching around nothing. “You want it so bad, huh?” He pouts in a condescending tone and you nod your head, whining each time his tip enters you, stretching you before pulling out.
“Please! Please! Oh my god, I need it.” You plead as he slowly sinks even more of his cock into you. It’s a slow pace, one that has you convulsing and mewling.
“I’ve dreamt of being in this sweet fucking cunt since I saw you….I’m going to make sure you feel every inch…” he says sinking into your weeping pussy just a bit more, “every vein,” he says pushing in even deeper, “going to ruin your cunt for anyone else who even thinks to try and get with you.” He growls out, sinking balls deep into you finally.
You grip the pillows, you’re sure you probably ripped the fabric. You cry out a wanton moan feeling so entirely full. His thrusts are brutal and he’s relentless.
When his hand reaches around and begins to play with your clit you can’t help but to desperately throw your hips back in time with his thrust. His other hand removes itself from your hip. “Go on now…” he urges, watching how you keep up the movements he ceased, fucking yourself back on to him “That’s it….fuck!” He growls out, watching each time your ass connects with his pelvis.
You can feel yourself getting closer to your third orgasm of the night and the feeling is overwhelming. You keep crying out, your hips moving back on his in sloppy, jittery movements. You wanted to cum again so bad but you just couldn’t without him brutally thrusting into your cunt.
He seems to realize this and he chuckles darkly, he replaces his one hand on your hip, the other dancing along your clit in patterns that have your body jerking against him. “Wanna cum so bad don’t you…” he coos, leaning over you, his hips beginning to rock softly into you.
You cry out, nodding into the pillows. “Poor thing….”, he chides, “can’t do it without me helping you, huh?” He says, his breath fanning over the back of your neck, lips dancing along the shell of your ear.
“P-please.” You whimpered out, trying to turn your neck to look at him. He smiles, your begging only spurring him on to increase the force of his thrusts. They become hard and slow, dragging the length of his cock slowly out of your cunt with a moan of his own. “F-fuck…please! N-nam-Guy, p-please!” You cry out.
That seems to do the trick. The wanton plan of your name has him groaning and sitting back up from hovering over you. His hips drive into you at a force that has you surging forward and your eyes rolling back.
You can hear the filthy squelching sound of your pussy each time he bullies his cock into your tight entrance. His fingers that were on your clit messily dragging your arousal around. “Come on princess. I can feel you squeezing me, need to feel you cum again.” He growls through gritted teeth.
All you can do is nod and cry, your orgasm creeping up over you in a large tidal wave that you have no hope of fighting off. When his cock starts to hammer the spot inside you that has you choking out a cry of his name, his fingers rapidly drawing circles on your clit, you break.
You cum with a loud moan of his name, your cunt spasming around him so tightly that he is hurled towards his own orgasm without warning. He lets out a gasping moan of your name, driving his hips into yours with one final thrust and cumming deep inside you.
The force of your own orgasm has you shaking around him, clear liquid evidence of your orgasm is forced out of you, coating his cock and pelvis with your cum.
He lets our strangled breaths as you milk his cock for everything he had, his hips rolling into yours softly as you both ride out your highs.
You feel so good but so weak, you’re sure you would have collapsed onto the bed in a boneless heap if it wasn’t for his arm around your midsection keeping you up.
You sigh as you feel him lean down and place kisses up your spine and up the back of your neck. “Did so good f’me.” He mumbles breathlessly against the back of your ear. “Mhm..” you whine in response, shivering against him.
He slowly pulls out of you, his arm staying wrapped under you to keep upright. You nearly sob at the feeling of his cock pulling out of your pussy and his cum that drips out of your red and puffy cunt.
You hear him hiss, watching it. He’s addicted. His fingers lift up, catching the trail of his cum drilling out of your cunt that threatens to drop to your sheets. Smearing it around your pussy, his fingers dipping in to your entrance to fuck the rest of it back into you with a few slow pumps.
You whine, so utterly overstimulated. He shushes you, “I know, sweet thing..”, he says pulling his fingers from you and leaning into place a kiss on your clit. “Couldn’t let you be so wasteful…” he murmurs against your pussy before pulling back.
He sits back up, leaning over you. “I’m gonna help you turn around okay?” He says softly, you nod weakly in response. He carefully pulls you onto your back and laying you down on the bed. You don’t even realize he departed from the bed and went to the bathroom for a towel before he’s wiping you both down, discarding the towel and returning back to the bed near to you.
“I really did a number on ya, huh?” He says, his elbow propped up on the pillow and his chin on his palm. You’re lying on your back, still haven’t moved from where he left you. You narrow your eyebrows and pout, a fake scowl. He laughs at your pathetic attempt at seeming mad, your laugh soon echoing his and it has his chest swelling with an electric warmth.
“Yeah ya did.” You admit shamelessly, turning on your side towards him looking up at him. He laughs, “Oh, I know.” He says proudly, making you laugh again. He throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you next to him.
He kisses your forehead, the arm around your shoulder pulling you closer. “I waited way too long for that.” You say, your head moving to rest on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat. It’s cute the way you hear it speed up when you nuzzle your head on his chest and begin to draw light patterns on his stomach.
He chuckles in response, “Well I suppose third times a charm.” He says, reaching down to pull the blankets that were piled up on the edge of your bed over the two of you- no way we’re both of yall getting up to get under the sheets and comforter.
You look up at him from your spot on his chest, a smile on your face. “And you’re staying the night? Oh what a gentleman.” You joke, cuddling closer into him. “Uh yeah…duh.” He says in a teasing tone, squeezing you into him, “and tomorrow, if you let me, I’d like to take you out to breakfast….or lunch…whenever we get up.” He says, with a small laugh, his arm now beginning to trace light shapes on your arm.
“Y-yeah I’d like that.” You say, you can’t even hide the smile in your words. “Good, now get some sleep. You’ll need it you’ll be sore in the morning.” You hit his chest at his words and he laughs, wrapping his other arm around you to cage you into him. He begins to pepper kisses along the top of your head and down to your face causing you to giggle. And he swears that’s your laugh is a sound he will never get tired of hearing.
Needless to say, you went to bed excited to see where you two went for food and what the future held for this odd partnership that was, very thankfully, catapulted into your life.
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Thank you guys for all the support during this series. It is unbelievable how much love this got! I'm so excited to continue writing! I have a lot of ideas and things in the works and am so so so excited to share them with you all!!! my inbox is open for requests for one-shots or drabbles! much love <3 kiwi
Tag List: @heyitsayjayy , @chxrrybomb22 , @ziallgff , @ametheslime , @hornyfordaryldixon , @risingofjupiter , @h3artz4soph , @godly-sinsx , @gurofushi , @shad0wcast , @thearsonistrat , @sollum , @onmycloudyet , @matthewpatel4life , @tashiagalinda , @knxfesup , @skibidirizzzlerrr
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quarterlifekitty · 2 days ago
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To add to my earlier ask about how I have more step-dad Nik, your add on was so good because absolutely. Yes. Sweet girl is too fucked out to ask about protection or to think of anything other than Nik fucking load after load into her. She also doesn't think to ask for protection the next day in the shower since Nik gets her so worked up with his mouth first. Makes her cum on his tongue at least twice before fucking a few more out of her and filling her again. Cleans her up too, happy to hold his sweet girl and bathe her. Now I don't know how but she manages to get Nik to let her leave a second time (Nik is getting a new house ready closer to her college so she can attend online schooling, he doesn't want her feeling stir crazy when she's further along after all) and about a month after getting back she finds out she's pregnant. And despite being absolutely terrified of the situation she doesn't want to get rid of it, or at least keeps putting it off out of nerves. She eventually asks Nik if she can come visit and he's like 'oh, I sold that house, too many memories with the ex, new house is much closer to you though, do not worry' and he picks her up. Hand on her thigh the whole way to his (their) new home. She tries to act normal and everything but Nikolai can tell his sweet girl is distressed and presses her for the reason. Eventually she caves and tearfully confesses she's pregnant and she's 'so sorry' that she was so reckless and that she swears she won't bother him with anything and she'll go and he doesn't have to worry about her. And Nik only smiles 'Ah, what makes you think I'm mad? Hmm? And on that note, what makes you think that I'm not going to keep my pretty girl right here where I can take care of her?' and while SD should definitely be nervous and the red flags should be waving she never had a great basis for healthy relationships and she is falling for Nik as ashamed as she was of it at first. She keeps asking him if he's sure and it gets to a point where he just picks her up and takes her to their bed to show her just how sure he is. Funny side note Nik fully shoots her mom a text with something like 'thanks for introducing me to my soon to be wife, you should expect grandchildren within a year. Don't expect to see them though.' (take any dialog I type as an idea of what someone says cause I'm ass at typing in character) Once again thank you for listening to my rambling
Bro please ramble here all the time forever. I love this and I owe you my life.
Nik sending his ex a picture— doesn’t have your face in it, but you’re wearing like the one piece of family jewelry you ever got from her side of the family. It’s got your baby bump, and his hand holding yours— got a pretty ring on it now, too. And then he blocks her <3
Also reader like 100% has daddy issues in this one. Like her mom is piece of work and her dad is completely absent for whatever reason— when was the last time someone took care of her? Probably back when she was physically incapable of caring for herself. From the moment she could dress and feed herself she was on her own. It’s why it’s so painfully easy for her to fall into things with Nik. After a life that kind of treatment, Nik’s brand of doting is like crack.
And I like to imagine, while she might not know this in a full conscious way, she wanted to keep the baby because she fully expected Nikolai to leave her. It’s what she’s used to— and it’s strange for her to depend on him so much when he’s just her former stepfather, no? She’s constantly second guessing herself about leaning on him even a little— that she’s probably bothering him, and he’s just too kind to tell her off. But she does love him. So things would be hard, to raise the baby on her own, but at least she’d have a piece of him with her. She could remember the moments they shared that way, even when he left her.
She’s in for the fucking, no, the lovemaking of a lifetime when she confesses that little tidbit to him.
(This is all just my humble onion as this story is yours lol but this is what goes on in my imagination realm)
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Between the Pain and the Way You Look
You have a less-than-admirable day. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. So how does Emily make it all better? Sex, of course.
TW: Smut, Strap On sex, allusions to somnophilia. 18+ Men DNI
Word Count: 3.5K
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You had just about had it with the day. After waking up to a cold bed, your shower running cold, spilling your coffee on your favorite work shirt, and hitting all of the traffic that was never a problem before, you made it to work. Your day wasn't any better there. You had hoped to catch your girlfriend, Emily before you all were called in for a briefing.
But that wasn't meant to be. Hotch droned on about why filing case files was important to handle promptly, and how the escalation process was only for severe cases. You had to bite your tongue to keep from pointing out that the case you had been working on was severe. It was the kind that kept you up at night, the kind that you saw in your dreams, the kind that made you question humanity. But no, you couldn't say any of that.
The day progressed as you all caught up with your paperwork and case files, the sounds of scribbling pens and clicking keyboards filling the bullpen in the lower level of the BAU. Your eyes kept drifting up to Emily, watching as she chewed on her pen, glancing over various sheets of printed evidence that a local police department hoped would aid in the capture of a suspect. Suddenly, while you were not staring at your girlfriend, an intern made thier way through the center aisle of the bullpen, tripping and sending her coffee and case files all over your desk and into your lap. Paperwork was now saturated and shuffled, as you grumbled and wiped off the paperwork you could.
"Sorry, Agent Y/L/N," she stuttered, her face flushing as red as the crimson stain spreading over your crotch.
You took a deep breath, "It's fine," you said with a forced smile, trying not to let the frustration overtake you. You stood up, grabbed the files, and walked over to the photocopier. You could feel the dampness of your pants sticking to your skin, making you more uncomfortable with each step.
Emily looked up from her work, noticing the mess on your desk and the look on your face. She immediately stood up and followed you, "Y/N, are you okay?"
You nodded, "Yeah, just a little spilled coffee. Kinda just how my day has been, to be honest."
Emily's eyes softened, "I'm sorry," she said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Do you need help with those files?"
The warmth of her hand sent a comforting sensation through you, and for a moment, you felt like maybe the day could turn around. "No, I got it. Thanks, Em."
As you approached the photocopier, you noticed the intern, whose name you hadn't caught, was already there, trying to clean up the mess she had made. She looked up at you with wide eyes, "I'm so sorry," she repeated, "I didn't mean to ruin your papers."
You sighed and handed her the wet files, "Don't worry about it. Just get me some fresh copies, please."
The intern nodded vigorously, "Yes, of course," she said, taking the files and beginning to sort them out. You watched for a moment, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly. Emily hovered beside you, her hand still on your shoulder, and you couldn't help but appreciate the way she was trying to help, even in this small way.
As you waited, you couldn't help but think about the case you had been working on. The images of the crime scenes flashed through your mind, each one more disturbing than the last. You had been with the BAU for years, but this one was different. It was personal somehow. You felt a deep-seated rage at the thought of the monster out there, getting away with it all.
The photocopier hummed to life, and the intern handed you the fresh copies, "Here you go, Agent," she said meekly.
You took the papers with a nod of thanks, "It's fine," you assured her, "These things happen."
Emily looked at you with concern, "You should sit down, and let it dry a bit," she suggested, pointing to your soaked crotch.
You chuckled humorlessly, "Yeah, I probably should."
You walked back to your desk, Emily in tow, and sat down heavily in your chair. She leaned against the desk, her hand sliding down to rest on your forearm, "Want to grab lunch together? Maybe get out of here for a bit?"
The offer was tempting, but you knew you couldn't let the case wait. "Can't," you said, shaking your head, "Got too much to do."
Emily's expression fell, but she nodded in understanding, "Do you want me to get you something?" she asked, and again you shook your head. "Okay, but promise me you won't push yourself too hard." Her dark eyes lingered on you as she walked away, JJ waiting patiently by the door as they headed out for food.
You regretted not going with Emily, just getting out of here for a little bit. You could have stepped out and grabbed some fresh clothes. You didn't live far away. But now that all your thoughts had been caffeinated and smeared, you had twice as much work to do.
Your frustrations mounted all day long, stupid mistakes and accidents hindering your productivity all day long. You grabbed a ginger ale from the vending machine in the break room, and it exploded on you, covering you in a sticky mess. The lunch that Emily brought back for you, despite your refusal, knocked off your desk and spilled all over the floor. All just minor inconveniences that were leading up to you exploding.
Emily, JJ, and Morgan all finished thier case files early, and despite thier offers to help you, you told them to go ahead and enjoy thier nights. Hotch finally kicked you out, telling you that trying to catch up when you're frustrated is a help to no one, including yourself. You made your way to your car, getting ready to toss your bag into the back seat when the strap snapped and slapped you in the face, cutting your eyebrow. You kick your bag into the backseat, cussing at whatever god may be listening before slamming your door and starting your car.
Well, you tried. The oh-so-familiar sound of your car trying to start, but indicating a dead battery caused you to slam your hands on the wheel, before slamming your head into the headrest. You needed to blow off steam. Popping the trunk, you dug out your handy little jump box, popped the hood connecting the cables to the terminals, and jumped the car. You groaned as you noticed your cab light on, the likely cause of your dead battery.
After the car sputtered to life, you drove home, feeling like the universe had it out for you today. You pulled into the garage and slammed the door shut behind you, the echo bouncing off the concrete walls. Entering the house, you kicked off your shoes and tossed your broken bag on the ground as you turned around to see Emily, she was smirking at you in the kitchen.
"Long night, baby?" She called out, her voice taunting and teasing, as she leaned against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand. Her smile was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a little bit of the tension slip away at the sight of her.
You took a deep breath and let out a sigh, "You could say that." You walked over to her, took the beer from her hand, and took a long pull. The cold liquid slid down your throat, offering a brief respite from the day's frustrations.
"I'm making you dinner, Y/N," she rasped, leaning to your ear before peppering your jawline with kisses. You groaned at her affection, the warmth of her breath on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. "You need to relax. The day is almost over."
You groaned, the feeling of her hands roaming your body causing you to relax further. "Go rinse off the day, babe. Dinner is almost done."
You pouted, turning to face her before pulling her into you. "You don't want to join me?"
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, I want to," she murmured, her voice low and seductive, "But dinner's almost ready, and you know how grumpy you get when you're hangry. Especially since you spilled your lunch and then ate a stale bag of chips from your desk."
You couldn't argue with that. With a sigh, you leaned in for a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom. You peeled off your sticky, coffee-soaked clothes, the fabric reluctantly letting go of your skin. The hot water from the shower was like a balm to your soul, washing away the grime of the day. You took your time, letting the steam build up around you and the water pummel your tense muscles. The shampoo and soap smelled faintly of mint and citrus, a scent that always seemed to calm you down.
By the time you emerged from the bathroom, the smell of something heavenly filled the air. Emily was a fantastic cook, and your stomach growled in appreciation. You padded into the kitchen, wrapping a towel around your waist, and found her at the stove, stirring a pot of something that bubbled and sizzled. She looked over her shoulder, catching your eye, and grinned. "Feeling better?"
You nodded, feeling the knots in your neck and back loosen slightly. "Much." You took a step closer to her, inhaling the mouthwatering scent. "What's on the menu?"
"Spaghetti and meatballs," she said, pointing to a plate of perfectly formed meatballs resting on the counter. "With a side of garlic bread." She winked at you, and you couldn't help but smile. It was your favorite, and she had gone to the effort of making it from scratch. You leaned in to kiss her cheek, and she playfully swiped at you with a spoonful of sauce. You dodged and grabbed a meatball, popping it into your mouth. The flavors exploded, the warmth and spice hitting the spot.
Dinner was a welcome distraction from the chaos of the day. You sat at the table, the candles flickering and casting a warm glow across the room. The wine she had poured was a deep, velvety red, and it complemented the meal perfectly. You talked about the case, but she knew when to listen and when to change the subject. Her laughter was like a salve to your weary soul, and you found yourself smiling genuinely for the first time in hours.
After dinner, she began her clean up of the kitchen, telling you to relax, as she so lovingly put it, "With the day you've had, you'll break all the dishes." You began to watch her as she moved effortlessly around your kitchen, oblivious to your gaze. Your thoughts became louder and harder to ignore as you watched the woman, your desire to bend her over the counter and take her where she stood, especially after the day you had, was strong.
You stood and walked up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and whispering in her ear, "Thanks for dinner," before nibbling at the lobe. She giggled, turning around in your embrace, her hands coming up to cup your face. "You're welcome," she replied, her voice dropping an octave, "but I think I might have had an ulterior motive."
You raised an eyebrow in question, "Oh?"
"Mmhmm," she said, her eyes darkening, "I figured if I fed you, you'd be less grumpy, and I could have my way with you. Help you...blow off some steam."
You smirked, "Is that so?" You leaned in, your breath hot against her skin, "What makes you think that I would let you have your way with me?"
Her grin widened, "Maybe, I want you to ravage me. Use me. I can tell you want to." she growls in your ear, before nibbling on your earlobe in return.
"What makes you say that, babe?" you groan, before tilting her head to the side and kissing up and down her neck.
"Maybe it's the way you're holding me," she replied, her breath hitching as your hands trailed down her body, "Or the look in your eyes," she leaned back, giving you more access to her neck. "Or maybe the fact that you have had your strap-on on all day, even now."
You looked down to see that she had noticed the bulge in your pants and the harness peeking out from under your shirt. You had worn it today in the hope that there would be a moment you could have bent her over and fucked her so she couldn't walk at work. Or if she would have stayed in this morning, you could have fucked her before you both went into the office.
Emily's words sent a jolt of desire through you. You hadn't realized how badly you needed this release until she put it into words. You tightened your grip on her hips, pulling her closer until she was pressed against you, the heat between your bodies palpable. "Is that right?" You murmured, your voice thick with want.
"Mmhmm," she responded, her hands reaching behind her to tug at the strings of your harness. "Let's get rid of these clothes, and I'll show you just how much I want it."
You didn't need any further invitations. In a flash, the kitchen was a blur of fabric and heat as you both stripped off your clothes, leaving them scattered across the floor like breadcrumbs. The tension of the day melted away with every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of desire.
You led her to the couch, the cushions plush and inviting. She sat down, spreading her legs wide for you, and you knelt before her, taking in the sight of her glistening pussy. You kissed along her inner thighs, savoring the sweetness of her skin and the way she squirmed under your touch. "Fuck, Emily..." You murmured, your voice gruff with need.
Emily leaned back, her hands tangling in your hair as she guided you closer to where she needed you most. You kissed her softly, her taste a mix of desire and the hint of the wine she had been sipping. Then you kissed her deeper, your tongue exploring her mouth as your hands roamed over her body. You felt her tremble as you teased her clit with one hand, your other hand squeezing her breast.
You kissed up and down her taught body, making your way across her chest, and down her stomach, your eyes never leaving hers. The way she watched you was like a hunger that could never be sated. When you reached her center, her legs parted even more for you, inviting you in. You took her clit into your mouth, flicking your tongue against it, and she gasped her back arching. You could feel her muscles tighten around your fingers as you pushed into her wetness, exploring her depths. You kept lapping at her clit, your other hand massaging her chest as she writhed and mewled beneath you.
Her nails dug into your scalp, urging you on as she got closer to the edge. You felt a smug satisfaction knowing you could make her feel this way, that you could give her the relief she craved. Her breath hitched and her body tensed, and you knew she was almost there. You increased your pace, your tongue swirling and sucking until she was bucking her hips against your face, her orgasm crashing through her in waves. She let out a guttural moan, and you felt her body relax, the tremors subsiding as she leaned back against the couch, panting heavily.
You weren't going to let her relax long, kissing your way up to meet her lips in a steamy, passionate embrace. She could taste her on your tongue, a sweet and salty mix that made you crave more. She returned the kiss eagerly, her tongue dancing with yours as she pulled you closer, her legs wrapping around your waist. You could feel her heat, her desire pressing against you, and you knew she was ready for more.
You stood, breaking the kiss and smiling down at her. "Bedroom," you rasped, and she nodded, her cheeks flushed with arousal. You picked her up effortlessly, carrying her to the bedroom like a prize you had won. You laid her down on the bed, her legs still wrapped around you as you settled between them. You kissed her neck, feeling her pulse quicken as you reached for the strap-on you had yet to use. You began to stroke it, coating it in a mixture of her arousal and your saliva.
Emily watched you with hungry eyes, her hand slipping down to her clit, keeping the heat simmering. "I've been waiting for this all day," she murmured her voice a seductive whisper that had you hardening even more. You lined the tip of the strap-on up with her entrance, feeling her shiver with anticipation. "Take me," she begged, her voice needy and raw.
With one swift motion, you slammed into her, the sound of your hips meeting hers echoing in the quiet room. She threw her head back, a scream of pleasure ripping from her throat. You didn't stop, didn't slow down, pounding into her with an almost primal ferocity. Her nails raked down your back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and you reveled in the pain, the pleasure mixing in a heady cocktail that had you on the edge.
Emily's moans grew louder, her body tensing as another orgasm built within her. You could feel it, the way her pussy tightened around you, the way her hips met yours thrust for thrust. You reached down, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to the bed, your eyes never leaving hers as you claimed her completely. She bit her lip, trying to keep the sound in, but it was no use. Her cries filled the room, a symphony of ecstasy that had your release barreling down on you like a freight train.
You leaned down, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her cries as you felt her climax wash over her. You didn't stop, didn't slow, pushing her through the peak and into the abyss of pleasure. Her legs tightened around you, her heels digging into your back as she begged for more. You gave it to her, every inch of you driving into her with an almost scary ferocity. You felt your orgasm coiling in your stomach, ready to pounce.
Emily's eyes rolled back in her head, her body a trembling mess beneath you as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. You watched her, feeling like a god like you had the power to give her everything she ever wanted. You pulled out slowly, watching as she whimpered with the loss of you. But you weren't done yet. You flipped her over, her ass in the air, and slammed back into her without a preamble.
The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, the only other noises being your grunts and her moans of pleasure. You reached around, grabbing her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples as you thrust into her from behind. She pushed back against you, meeting your every thrust with an eager groan. You could feel her pussy tightening around you, her orgasm building again.
You leaned down, biting her shoulder as you whispered in her ear, "You like it rough, don't you?"
Emily nodded, her breath coming in pants, "Yesss..." she hissed, her body moving in time with your thrusts. You could feel your orgasm approaching, the tension coiling tighter with each movement. You reached down, grabbing her hips and pulling her back onto you, the angle changing slightly, hitting her just right.
Her walls began to quiver around you, her cries of pleasure growing louder, and you knew she was close. You reached around, finding her clit once again, and began to rub it in circles as you fucked her deep and hard. She was so wet, so tight, and every time you hit that perfect spot, she would clench around you, her muscles rippling with the force of her impending climax.
With one final, powerful thrust, you felt her come undone, her body shaking and convulsing as she screamed your name. You couldn't hold back any longer, and with a roar of pure release, you followed her over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm. You collapsed on top of her, both of you panting heavily, the room spinning with the intensity of your shared climax.
You remained there for a moment, the weight of your bodies pressing into the mattress, before rolling to the side, taking the strap-on with you. Emily turned to face you, a lazy smile playing on her lips as she traced the contours of your face with her fingertips. "You know," she said, her voice still thick with desire, "you need to have a bad day more often."
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sccrim · 3 days ago
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warnings ( threesome , oral both , licking cums , pnv , unprotected , riding , lesbian action )
you and nanamis wife find out what he did while you guys were gone.
not proof read.
tags : @rissouu @gorysims n everyone else who wanted a part 2
part one
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nanami still couldn’t help but think about the video of you and his wife. he was so fixated on that the whole night. when his wife would even kiss him, he would get a hard on just thinking about it.
he did want to make a suggestion to his wife, asking if they can up their sex life but he was nervous. what if she said no? he just didn’t want to get caught up but unfortunately he did.
you sat on ur bed, on the computer scrolling away until u saw a video on ur camera roll that you had no idea of. nanami accidentally press record on himself when he was scrolling through your post.
you pressed the video to see nanami jerking himself off. your eyes grew big. no wonder why he was acting so weird yesterday. you texted your best friend asking her to come to your room.
you began pacing back and forth in front of your bed, not knowing what to say to her. you didn’t want to be there when she yells at him but you also didn’t want to be the easy they broke up. before you could even text her back saying never mind— she was already at your door.
"what’s up?"
"uh—"
"you okay?"
"sit please." you watched as she sat on the edge of your bed. "you’re scarring me." you took a deep breath. "okay so basically, y'know how nanami was being oddly weird last night?"
"mhm."
"well i think i know why. basically, i was on my lab top, i was going to post our video we did last week. i saw this video that i don’t remember so i pressed on it…" a small pause. your best friend looking at you to continue.
"it was nanami— and well, he was masturbating. he kept saying your name and mine. i’m positive he saw our video." you were scared for her reaction but it wasn’t what you thought it would be.
"oh wow. definitely not surprised but like i did cheat on him just didn’t think he would find out that way—"
"you’re not upset?"
"i can’t be y/n. i did cheat on him. what can i say?"
"i mean true but i don’t know!"
"if we are being honest, i was going to discuss with him about being a poly but i just didn’t know how to ask him."
to be fair, you were in love with your best friend and you had started to like nanami but you never thought about a poly.
"i love you y/n and i know nanami feels the same way. i see the way he stares at you or wonders if you’re with someone. i wonder the same as well." you were shocked honestly. but you were praying on the inside that nanami agreed to it. "come on, we'll tell him together." now your heart went to your ass.
"nanami, baby." you can hear nanami hum. "so, did anything yesterday when we were gone?" your eyes looked away from his eyes. "no. why?"
"you sure?"
"i mean i cleaned but that’s about it." liar.
"babe be honest with me." you can tell he was nervous. he didn’t know to lie or say the truth. "fine. please don’t get mad. but — i was being nosy and went into y/n's room and i kept hearing notifications. i know it was wrong but then i saw only fans and just wanted to know how much you make and i got more curious and saw you too and i got off on that. please don’t be mad."
you wanted to laugh but you knew this situation was serious. "it’s okay honey, i can’t be mad. i do apologize for not telling you about it either."
"i’m sorry y/n for sneaking in your room."
"it’s okay." you chuckled causing nanami to turn red. "speaking of which, i have something to ask."
"hm?"
"i know you feel something towards y/n and—"
"oh god, im so-"
"nanami relax. i was going to say i do too, and i wanted to know if you’re willing to be in a relationship with her as well."
"what is it called? a poly?"
"mhm."
"wow. i mean two women at once?"
nanami smiled big. "well yeah."
"this is heaven."
"we also have a surprise for you."
"for me?!" your best friend grabbed nanamis hand and yours leading to the master bedroom. you were confused too. she never said anything else. "since we are doing this, i’ve been waiting to try so bad." she smiled taking her clothes off. nanami smiling knowing his dreams were coming true.
"i wanna see you guys touch each other first." so quick for nanami to request what he wanted but yall weren’t complaining though. "like this?" you began grabbing your best friends breast. nanami sitting in the corner of the chair. nodding in agreement as he took off his clothes.
you and your best friend breathing getting heavier. "finger her." you nodded, your fingers rubbing against her pussy. she moaned from the feeling. "she’s wet for you." you bit your bottom lip looking at nanami while placing your fingers in your mouth.
nanami pumping himself seeing you eat his wife out. this is what he wanted and he finally got it. "when i fuck her, i want you looking at me." he pointed as he slapped your ass. he rubbed his tip against your entrance. "oh fuck." your best friend moaned out loud. "don’t look at her, look at me."
nanami gave it no time, he thrusted in you causing you to moan. "don’t stop." she whispered. nanami grabbing your hips, thrusting back and forth. you began tweaking on his dick. nanami moaning seeing your ass shaking perfectly. his wife also humping your face. "just like that baby." he whispered.
"oh god." you whispered as nanami kept going faster. "nanami lay on your back." his wife demanded. "sit on his face y/n." you positioned yourself to sit on his face. nanami's tongue did circular motion on your clit causing you to moan. "ride his fucking face." his wife kissed your lips. his wife goes down and began sucking his dick.
nanami moaned feeling his wife take all of it. "nanami-" you moaned. he gripped on your thighs when he felt you ride him. the room was filled with sweat, moans, and screams.
you faced the other way, while his wife began to ride his dick. nanami still eating you out while you were making out with his wife. "fuck guys-" your best friend whispered as she sucked on your breast. "please don’t fucking stop."
"yeah baby, eat her fucking pussy." this man was in fucking heaven. his has his wife riding him and his now girlfriend sitting on his face? yeah this man was loving it. "i’m gonna fuc—"
"me too—" all of you guys keeping up the same place. you came in nanamis mouth. "lick my cum off her pussy." nanami demanding as he felt himself shooting inside her. you bent down and licked your best friend clit while still on nanami. she lifted up a bit and smiled seeing you lick off both of them.
"was this what you wanted nanami?"
"mhm."
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 sccrim — all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost , translate , or plagiarise my content.
115 notes · View notes
oikarma · 1 hour ago
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we keep this love in a photograph
pairing: lando norris x wolff!reader
summary: toto wolff's daughter and his golden boy, kimi antonelli. match in heaven, right? despite all the cute pics taken of you and kimi over the years, it turns out you might like boys behind the cameras more.
a/n: thank you sm for being my first request!! this was really cute and fun to write and i hope you like it.
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liked by kimi.antonelli, francolapinto and 770,341 others
y/nwolff: found a new photographer
view all 12,097 comments
olliebearman: idk what you're talking about p1 is nice but whoever was holding the camera in p3 did a horrible job
y/nwolff: yeah idk who that rat is 🤷‍♀️ must've snuck into the frame kimi.antonelli: why do you insist on hurting me
user1: soft launch??
user2: girl she's been posting him for years now we need real confirmation user3: but they'd look so cute together 🥺 user2: @/user2 that's what we've all been sayinggg
francolapinto: pfft what photographer i could do better
y/nwolff: take me out to dinner and we'll see user4: uh oh someone's never getting a mercedes seat user5: @/user4 PLEASE toto probably gave kimi his seat to make sure he'd treat y/n well franco might be getting a little something sent his way
user6: mother and the guy she's dating
user7: i literally love you y/n
lando: where's the "thank you lando for inviting me to this lovely dinner"
y/nwolff: i literally already repaid you 😒 lando: i guess i like calling in favors user8: they're so sibling coded
y/nscloset: immaculate style as always * liked by y/nwolff
totowolff_original: No drinking and driving.
y/nwolff: tell that to kimi i still don't have my license
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liked by username1 and 530,192 others
f1gossipofficial: 5 years of kimiyn! our fav bestfriend duo - or maybe something more?
tagged: kimi.antonelli, y/nwolff
view all 7,006 comments
user1: confirmation whennn
user2: so basically they've been teasing us since the last decade??
user3: maybe they don't want it to affect kimi's public view? they might think toto has a preference for him cause of him and y/n user4: @/user3 well the two of them certainly aren't private about their friendship
user5: i need what they have 😭
user6: if only i was pretty and rich and toto wolff's daughter and my boyfriend was pretty and rich and a formula one driver who drove for my dad
user7: they never hard launched but the cutest couple on the grid frfr
user8: guys! my friend and i were passing by this paddle place near where she lives and she saw y/n and kimi going inside. he was carrying her stuff (bags, drink) for her while she was yapping at 3000 miles an hour and she was blushing so hard
user9: what a gentleman user10: drop the loc please i'll be signing up for a yearly membership
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liked by lando and 701,328 others
y/nwolff: guess who got his ass whooped
tagged: kimi.antonelli, lando
view all 9,125 comments
totowolff_original: No cursing, Y/N.
y/nwolff: sorry dad i just had to rub it in ☹️ y/nwolff: promise i won't do it next time
kimi.antonelli: i swear you hate me
y/nwolff: it's a hate love thing kimi kimi.antonelli: where is the love???? user1: IS THIS KIMIYN CONFIRMED
lando: guess who got her ass whooped
y/nwolff: idk not me lando: 🤨 ru sure about that user2: not them bickering again lmaoo
user2: yes girl get your man
user3: kimi trying to help y/n against lando was so cute
user4: RIGHT he was all heart eyes
user5: ofc the photographer she was talking ab last post was him
user6: kimi serving romcom tortured boy love interest
user7: the way i understood this immediately is concerning
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liked by y/nwolff and 901,339 others
lando: nothing like a friendly match
view all 21,483 comments
user1: the way i thought that was his 🫣
user2: same girl same
user3: whoever took this photo needs a raise we're getting all the offseason lando content we need
user4: lando were you making sure kimi and y/n weren't getting too handsy
user5: poor guy having to thirdwheel
y/nwolff: nothing like a big ego
lando: you like it user6: hello?? why is it getting hot in here user7: @/user6 dont be weird they're like siblings user8: idk that was not a sibling comment...toto what are your thoughts on this
user9: hes so fine oh my god
mclaren: staying in shape during off-season i see
lando: aren't you proud of me admin
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liked by y/nwolff, totowolff_official and 870,193 others
kimi.antonelli: bit of a downgrade
tagged: lando, y/nwolff
view all 7,034 comments
user1: lando what are you doing in the tags 😭
user2: check his stories, he was having dinner w y/n and kimi maybe they wanted to bike around the city together
user3: he looks so fine on that bike
mercedesamgf1: looking sharp today, kimi
kimi.antonelli: thanks! user4: it's the girlfriend effect
y/nwolff: yeah you had hair in the first pic
kimi.antonelli: why do i put up with you y/nwolff: because i'm fun 🫶 much love user5: y/n be nice to your man he's balding from the stress
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liked by olliebearman and 270,145 others
f1gossipofficial: SPOTTED! kimi antonelli, y/n wolff, and lando norris spending time together during the off-season
view all 5,018 comments
user1: barbie and two kens
user2: i love how kimi is just in the background
user3: am i crazy or is this giving landoyn...like i can't unsee it
user4: and she's been posting him a lot recently.. user5: you're all crazy there's no way
user6: why is ollie in the likes
user7: she's so stunning
user8: giving mom, dad, and angsty teenager
user9: nono it's mother and son bonding while dad is on the phone user10: wtf is this family
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liked by totowolff_official and 1,039,472 others
y/nwolff: we kiss a lot, hope this helps ❤️
tagged: lando
view all 40,193 comments
user1: my kimiyn heart...
user2: absolutely RADIANT
totowolff_official: You better not be in the McLaren paddock or start wearing orange all the time.
y/nwolff: but i have to show my boy support!! totowolff_official: You can do it in private. lando: i promise she will sir user3: DID HE JUST- user4: freaky ahh user5: toto's comments backfiring LMAOO
user6: oml that one girl on twt was right
supermaxmaxmax: I WAS!!! im not crazy!!!
user7: is this what kimi meant by being downgraded lolol
kimi.antonelli: yes i went from friend to furniture y/nwolff: stfu you're still my best friend he's just more than that lando: yeah i'm a lot to take in at once 😉 user8: ????????
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lando has added to their stories
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[caption: too busy to be holding the camera this time]
replies:
user1: lando why you gripping onto her like that
y/nwolff: woah i look so hot
lando: you are very hot
user2: mother and fatherr 🛐
user3: poor kimi 😭 having to thirdwheel and having to be photographer
kimi.antonelli: i'm doing god's work here
lando: either you're improving, or maybe you just have great subjects 😊
62 notes · View notes
obsessedhoneycomb · 2 days ago
Text
Family
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George Russell x fem!reader
Summary: While you thought you're about to spend your perfect anniversary night with your boyfriend, life reminds you otherwise.
Warnings: sadness, depressive thoughts, infertility, pregnancy, endometriosis
Word count: 1k
A/N: What can I even say.. I've been at the doctor's today, for check up after my surgery, which was a year ago and I got confirmed that my endometriosis is growing back. Not that I wouldn't know, because I know my body, but being said the facts out loud is hard. I spent my afternoon crying, curled on the couch, questioning myself in case of being able to have a child one day. To get myself out of the misery, I wrote this, because I would like to have someone to come home to me and hold me in his arms, just giving me the support through all this shit. I already wrote a few pieces endometriosis related, so if you want, check it out too. Love you all. <3
---
It was meant to be a perfect day, you had plans to cook some dinner and also had some spicy things in your mind for the night.
Getting through your doctors appointments was something you got used to in the last year, after you had a surgery for your endometriosis. You felt something was off for a few months, your cramps crawling, stabbing you in the back again, those flares being harsh to the point you couldn't even sit. But you held your optimism, trying not to scare George, because worrying him while he was at his prime perfomance during the season wasn't on the list.
Today was meant to be special because you had a two years anniversary.
"Can you see these lesions here? It's back again, I'm sorry."
The words you somehow expected, but didn’t want to hear. The same spiral of pain, hormone shots, nausea and... infertility.
Yeah, you discussed it with George, because everything seems so easy to talk about with him, the idea of having kids.
It gutted you deeply, that you might not be able to give him a child.
As you got home, the space was quiet, only the soft humming of aircondition was heard, making your heart clench, that he's not even there to embrace your mess, even though it's not his fault. George was meant to be home in the evening, but you had a message in your voicemail, that he can’t get home in time, because of the delayed flight. Okay, he'll be here in the morning.
But your sadness and depresive thoughts will be with you through the night. Torturing your mind, getting the best of you, making you feel worthless and weak.
---
"Baby...?"
The faint sound of the deep voice woke you from the nap. You cried yourself to sleep in the living room, still wearing your clothes you went to the doctors in. The coat scattered on the ground next to the couch, your shoes kicked in the hallway, tissues to which you drowned your tears everywhere around you.
George knew something happened, it tugged at his heartstrings, when he saw you like this. Sad, messy and depressed.
You groaned a little, disoriented, while he sat beside you, his gaze locked on your face.
"What happened?"
Softly, he took your hand into his, brushing over your knuckles, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.
Then it hit you again. "It's back again, I'm sorry."
Tears burning in your eyes, you avert them to the side, not able to look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes.
"Hey, love... Don't do this. I know, that something is wrong, but don't try to avoid me, I'm here for you, remember?"
The flicker of hope, that you’re not that worthless went through your mind, your gaze finally locking on his, pouring all your hurt into the pool of his positivity.
"I was at the doctor's today."
Oh no. There's was only one thing that was able to get this reaction out of you.
"How bad is it?"
His hand wander slowly to your cheek, brushing a thumb over it.
"It's not worse than last time, but still... It's there. Again. For fucks sake, again. I hate it so much. I hate myself."
The breaking point, your emotions flew out, your voice cracking and your tears staining your cheeks, your eyes red even more than before.
George pulled you closer to him, letting you lean against him, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The scent of him mixed with his cologne was enough to calm you down a little bit. He was your safe haven.
"Shhh... It's okay, just- just let it out. Be angry, scream and cry. Don't hold it in your mind. I'm here to hold you, to pick up your shattered pieces." his voice was soothing lullaby, when your cries got louder and more desperate. Brushing his fingers through your hair, he pressed the kiss on your temple, rocking you as his arms were wrapped around you tightly.
"I might not be able to have a child, George." you choked out between your sobs, and he looked down at your face with frown.
"Is that the thing that concern you the most?"
"Obviously. What a woman I am, to not give her man a child."
George felt partly offended by your words, but he kept his composure, because he was used to your hateful comments towards yourself, even, for the most of the time, you were a hell of a confident woman, loving yourself.
"Don't talk like this, please. You're much more than a baby machine." he tried to be funny and.. it worked. You smiled through your tears. He reached for your cheek, wiping off your emotions, smiling a little.
"You can't lose hope just like that. We can be lucky, you know. We just have to try, be patient and somewhere along the way, we're gonna be blessed. I don't care if it's gonna be in a month or in years. I'll be there for you along the way. As I always am. And even though we don't get lucky, I'm lucky to have you. And that's all that matters in my life, because you're my family."
And as ever, he managed to give you peace, calming warmth flooded your soul, making you sure in that George is the one.
---
Watching the screen of the ultrasound machine as you laid down on the examination table at your doctor’s, you couldn’t shake the excitement. George, holding your hand, standing beside you, was watching your expression, his chest fluttering at how happy you were.
"Ah, seems like you got very lucky." The doctor chuckled, pointing to the screen, showing two strong fetuses.
"What does it mean?" George asked first, clearly confused.
"That means that you're gonna have twins."
You nearly passed out while you gasped loudly.
"What?! Two of them?"
George only chuckled, kissing your forehead, nuzzling his nose to your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.
"Guess we were pretty thorough with our trying." he whispered with teasing tone in his voice.
98 notes · View notes
Text
Make It Up To You
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Matt Murdock x reader
(MINORS DNI) 18+‼️‼️
TW: porn with little plot, angst, smut, unprotected pinv (don’t be silly, cover your willy), oral (f!receiving), aftercare, slight blasphemy, body worship
Summary: Matt and you haven’t had any time alone in a while. You are fed up and plan a nice night in and Matt blows you off. Now he has to make it up to you.
This is the first fic i’ve ever written… If it sucks don’t tell me, i’ll cry-
~~~
Matt had a bad habit of working late. It was already difficult for the two of you to get any time together as it was. As soon as he got home, Matt would either leave to go out on patrol or pass out in the bed.
It’d been weeks since you last fucked. You were aching for him. Every look he gave you would have you breathing heavily. All you wanted to do was show up at his office and ride him in his desk chair. Or��� have him bend you over his desk. Anything to just get him back inside you.
It was Friday night, and you’d had enough. You called Matt earlier that day and made sure he was planning on coming home on time. You had everyone set up perfectly. A simple dinner date in the living room. Candles being the only lighting, and releasing a delicious aroma into the air. You put on Matt’s favorite dress; A little silk body con that left little to the imagination.
This was three hours ago… Matt should’ve been home on time, and been balls deep in you. He had called saying something came up and that he was sorry. You put the candles out, and put the food in the fridge. Disappointed wasn’t the word, drained was more fitting. Did he not find you attractive anymore? Were you not as important to him?
You took a long shower to try and wash off the sadness. Even tried to get yourself off with your fingers, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t Matt. The bed was cold without him. You shivered as you crawled under the covers. All you wanted right now was your lover.
A loud thump woke you from your sleep. Matt groaned as he stripped his suit off. The sounds making you have to clench your thighs together. He turned his head in your direction and grinned, “I know you’re not asleep, sweetheart.”
You scoffed as you rolled over to look at him. His clothes were discarded in the floor, leaving him in just his boxers. “What gave me away?”
Matt got on the bed and crawled over, “Well, your heart was racing, and I could hear you moving around.” He bumped your nose with his as he smiled down at you. You smiled back before a frown took over. You turned your head to avoid looking into Matt’s puppy dog eyes. “What is it, my love?”
“Nothing, Matty. Good night.” You rolled over and closed your eyes. Matt furrowed his brows as he let his surroundings sink in. Remnants of candle smoke and pasta hit his nose. The perfume you only wore on dates was the confirming factor. “That’s why you wanted to make sure I was home on time. This was supposed to be a date… Baby, I-“
“It’s okay, Matty. I just wanted to spend time with you. We hardly ever even see each other anymore.”
Matt slightly grabbed your shoulder and turned you back to him. “It’s not okay, I should’ve kept my word and been here. I’m so sorry I haven’t been the man you deserve. I’m sorry I haven’t been around, sweetheart. Will you let me make it up to you?”
Butterflies spread in your stomach as Matt leaned in closer. Your eyes fluttered closed as your lips met. The rough stubble on Matt’s face was one thing you never thought you’d miss, but you did. It was a beautiful contrast to his soft and plump lips. He started to kiss deeper, his tongue moving across your lower lip. You allowed him access and he didn’t even have to fight for dominance. He never did.
His lips started to trail down your jaw. The incredibly intimate moment was exhilarating. He was like a professional when it came to pleasing women. Matt got to your neck and started to leave marks. Marks that you would wear proudly. Marks that you hadn’t seen in so long. He tugged on your, well his, shirt and you pulled it off. A smirk grew on the man’s face at his realization you weren’t wearing a bra. His thumbs hovered over the sensitive buds and you let out a shaky breath. His tongue continued to trace down into the valley of your breasts. He licked up onto your left nipple as started to lightly suck, as he worked the other one with his hand. Matt switched breasts, giving them the same attention.
You were panting and moaning at his slow movements. He knew what he was doing and he knew just how much it drove you crazy. Matt’s fingers slowly drug down your torso. The stopped at the waistband of your panties. His finger dipped into them as your back arched up into his movements. “Matty please, baby! Touch me, taste me, anything,” you breathed out. Matt chuckled at your words.
“As much as I love to listen to you beg, sweetheart, I love the taste of you more.” Matt slowly slid your panties down your legs and tried not to laugh as you squirmed. He laid down in between your thighs and pulled your legs over his shoulders. He nudged your mound with his nose. His hands came up and held your thighs against his head. Matt licked all the way up your slit, collecting your wetness. Your head was burrowed in the pillows. It had been so long since he touched you like this. You both knew you wouldn’t last long. Matt’s tongue prodded your weeping hole. His nose rubbed your clit as his tongue fucked you.
Your world almost ended when Matt’s long fingers took his tongues place. His long digits reaching much further than your own could. His plump lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves. Matt sucked on your sensitive nub and you started to see stars. Your fingers gripped Matt’s fluffy dark hair, needing something to hold on to. He groaned at your movements, and started to dry hump against the end of the bed. To avoid hurting him, you moved your hands to tangle in the sheets instead.
Matt pulled away from your core, chin and nose glistening with your wetness. “Don’t pull away. It felt good, baby.” He guided your hands back into his hair, and dove back into your pussy.
It wasn’t much longer until you started to thrust your hips up into Matt’s movements. Your breath got more shallow, and your grip on your boyfriend’s hair tightened. Your climax crashed against you, back arching off the bed, moaning spilling out, thighs squeezing Matt’s head. He helped you ride out you high, and patted your hips. He pulled back to place gentle kisses on your thighs.
“Baby, I missed you so much. You always make me feel so good. I need more. I need your cock.” Matt took his time crawling back up to hover over you. He leaned down to kiss you, you could taste yourself in his tongue. You moaned into his mouth and rubbed his back as he traced your sides. Your hand slipped down to palm Matt through his boxers. A quiet whimper left his mouth.
Matt quickly slid his boxers down and went back to attacking your mouth. You gripped him at his base and started to move his tip along your slit. More whimpers fell from Matt’s lips. He took your hands held them above your head. He slowly started to push himself inside. It’d been so long, you had forgotten how big he was. The stretch was sinful the way it mixed pain and pleasure. Matt groaned into your ear as he sunk deeper.
Once he bottomed out, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You pulled against Matt’s hand, wanting to touch him. “If you start touching me this won’t last very long, and I have a lot of apologizing to do,” Matt breathed into your neck. Right then, he pulled back and slammed his hips back into yours. It was even better than you remembered. He fit perfectly with you like God had sculpted you for each other.
Your moans got louder as Matt picked up the pace. He removed his hold on your hands, and placed his hand on your throat. One of your hands moved to take down his back and grab onto his ass. The other threaded into his hair. Every time you pulled on the sweaty strands Matt choked out a moan.
Every little sound Matt let out, had you clenching around him. His rhythm got more sporadic, you could tell he was getting close. He could tell too, so he moved one of his hands down to rub small circles in your clit. It wasn’t long after that when stars overtook your vision. Matt’s grunts filled your ears as he finished inside you. His warm seed filling you up.
Matt had his head resting between your breasts as he came down from his high. Your fingers rubbing his scalp nearly sent him to sleep right there. He placed a kiss on your sternum before getting up. You whined at the loss of contact and Matt chuckled. Next thing you knew, Matt was back pulling your legs apart to clean you up. You winced as he placed the cloth against your sensitive cunt. “Sorry, angel..” Matt trailed off as he continued.
After you both were cleaned off, Matt crawled back under the covers. He curled into your side, laying his head upon your chest and gently rubbing your stomach and sides. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much, sweetheart. You don’t deserve that. From now on, you just say the word and I’ll come crawling home to you.”
“I love you, so much, Matty,” you whispered into Matt’s hair.
“I love you more than anything else in this world, angel.”
57 notes · View notes