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pucksandpower · 4 months ago

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Black Widow

Toto Wolff x black widow!Reader

Summary: Lewis Hamilton and George Russell are convinced you’re trying to kill their team principal, and, to be fair, you do have a trail of seven dead extremely wealthy husbands behind you … but it’s not what they think, you promise

The soft beep of medical equipment provides a rhythmic backdrop as you sit beside the ornate mahogany bed, your manicured fingers intertwined with those of your latest husband, Reginald Worthington III.

At 89 years old, Reggie, as you affectionately call him, is by far your oldest conquest yet. His wrinkled face, now gaunt from months of illness, still manages a weak smile as he gazes at you.

“My darling,” Reggie wheezes, his voice barely above a whisper, “I hope you know how much joy you’ve brought to these final months of mine.”

You lean in, your silky hair cascading over your shoulder as you press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Oh, Reggie. The pleasure has been all mine.”

It’s not entirely a lie. While you don’t love Reggie — or any of your previous husbands, for that matter — you’ve grown fond of the old codger. He’s certainly been the most amusing of your elderly spouses.

Reggie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, a ghost of the rakish playboy he must have been in his youth. “Now, now, my dear. We both know this has been a mutually beneficial arrangement. But I do hope I’ve provided some entertainment along the way.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been a delight, darling. Truly.”

As if on cue, Reggie is seized by a coughing fit. You quickly grab a glass of water from the bedside table, helping him take small sips until the spasms subside. When he catches his breath, he fixes you with a serious look.

“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you. About the will.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your face carefully neutral. “Reggie, please. We don’t need to discuss such morbid topics.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. We both know why you’re here, and it’s not to admire the wallpaper. Now listen, because this is important.”

You lean in closer, curiosity piqued despite yourself.

Reggie’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “In addition to the usual — the houses, the cars, the offshore accounts — I’m leaving you my stake in the Mercedes Formula 1 team.”

Your eyes widen in genuine surprise. “The racing team? Reggie, I had no idea you were involved with-”

He cuts you off with a wheezy laugh. “Oh, my dear. There’s so much you don’t know about me. Did you think I made my fortune selling denture cream?”

You can’t help but smile. “Well, I did wonder about all those trophies in your study.”

“Remnants of a misspent youth,” Reggie says with a wistful sigh. “But this, this is my crowning achievement. A 33% stake in one of the most successful F1 teams in history.”

Your mind reels at the implications. This is far beyond anything you’d anticipated when you’d set your sights on Reginald Worthington III.

“Reggie, I ... I don’t know what to say.”

He pats your hand affectionately. “You don’t have to say anything, my dear. Just promise me you’ll make the most of it. I’ve always admired your ambition. It reminds me of myself at your age.”

You lean back in your chair, studying the old man before you. In that moment, you feel a surge of genuine affection for him.

“I promise, Reggie. I’ll make you proud.”

He nods, satisfied. “Good. Now, tell me about the others. I want to know how I measure up to my predecessors.”

You laugh, shaking your head in amazement. “Are you sure? It’s quite a list.”

Reggie’s eyes sparkle with interest. “My dear, I’m on my deathbed. Regale me with tales of your conquests.”

With a theatrical sigh, you begin. “Well, if you insist. Let’s see ... first, there was Harold.”

“Ah, the virgin husband,” Reggie interrupts with a knowing nod.

You raise an eyebrow. “And how did you know that?”

He winks. “I have my sources. Go on.”

“Right. Well, Harold was a sweet man. A bit naive, perhaps, but genuinely kind. He left me his tech startup. It wasn’t worth much at the time, but I sold it for a tidy sum a year later.”

Reggie nods approvingly. “Smart move. Who was next?”

“After Harold came George. He was ... intense. A retired army general with a penchant for war stories and expensive scotch. Left me his collection of rare military memorabilia.”

“Fascinating,” Reggie murmurs. “And the others?”

You tick them off on your fingers. “Let’s see ... there was Joaquin, the passionate Spanish chef. He left me his Michelin-starred restaurants. Then came Dmitri, the Russian oligarch. That was ... an experience.”

Reggie chuckles. “I bet it was. What did he leave you?”

“A series of shell companies and a rather gaudy yacht. I sold the yacht, kept the companies.” You pause, lost in thought for a moment. “After Dmitri was William, the British lord. Lovely man, terrible teeth. Left me his crumbling estate and title.”

“So you’re technically a lady now?�� Reggie asks, amused.

You nod. “Lady Y/N, at your service. Though I don’t use the title much. It tends to raise questions.”

“Understandable. And the last one before me?”

Your expression softens slightly. “Ah, that was Hiroshi. Japanese tech mogul. Brilliant mind, but so lonely. I think I was the first real companionship he’d had in years.”

Reggie studies you carefully. “You were fond of him.”

You nod, a bit surprised by the lump in your throat. “I was. He ... he understood me, I think. More than the others.”

There’s a moment of silence as Reggie processes this information. Finally, he speaks. “And what did Hiroshi leave you?”

You smile wryly. “His AI research company. It’s been ... interesting, to say the least.”

Reggie nods slowly. “Quite a collection you’ve amassed, my dear. But tell me, what drives you? Surely it’s not just the money.”

You’re taken aback by the question. No one has ever asked you that before. You take a moment to gather your thoughts.

“I suppose ... it’s the challenge of it all. The thrill of reinventing myself with each new husband, of navigating these complex worlds they inhabit. And yes, the wealth is nice, but it’s more about what I can do with it.”

Reggie leans forward, intrigued. “And what is it you want to do?”

You pause, realizing you’ve never really articulated this to anyone before. “I want to make a difference. Real, lasting change. These men, they’ve all built empires in their own ways, but they’ve been limited by their own mortality. I don’t have those limitations yet. I can take what they’ve given me and create something ... more.”

Reggie’s eyes light up with understanding. “Ah, now I see why I was drawn to you. You’re not just a pretty face or a clever mind. You’re a visionary.”

You feel a flush of pride at his words. “I try to be. Each husband has taught me something new, given me tools I never had before. Harold showed me the potential of technology. George taught me strategy. Joaquin, the importance of passion in one’s work. Dmitri, how to navigate the murky waters of international business. William gave me a glimpse into old-world power structures. And Hiroshi ... well, he opened my eyes to the future.”

Reggie nods slowly. “And what have I taught you, I wonder?”

You smile softly. “Patience, Reggie. The long game. And the value of a good sense of humor in the face of adversity.”

He chuckles weakly. “Well, I’m glad I could contribute something to your education. Now, about this F1 team ...”

You lean in, eager to hear more. “Yes?”

“It’s more than just a racing team, you know. It’s a pinnacle of engineering, a testament to human ingenuity and the constant push for improvement. I think you’ll find it fits quite well with your ambitions.”

You nod slowly, mind already racing with possibilities. “I can see that. The technology, the global platform, the prestige ...”

Reggie grins. “Exactly. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find husband number eight in the paddock.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, Reggie. Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?”

He winks. “Someone has to. Now, promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” you say, and you’re surprised to find you mean it.

“When you’re accepting that championship trophy — because I know you will — wear something fabulous. Give those stuffy old men in the paddock something to talk about.”

You can’t help but grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I intend to shake things up a bit.”

Reggie nods approvingly. “That’s my girl. Now, I think I need to rest for a bit. But don’t go far. I want to hear all about your plans for world domination when I wake up.”

As you watch Reggie drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Sadness at the impending loss of this charming old rogue, excitement at the unexpected opportunity he’s given you, and a renewed sense of purpose.

You glance at your reflection in the ornate mirror across the room. Lady Y/N Y/L/N, soon-to-be racing magnate. It has a nice ring to it.

As you settle back into your chair, you begin to plan your next moves. The motorsport world won’t know what hit it.

***

The sleek boardroom of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team headquarters buzzes with hushed conversation. Around the polished mahogany table, team executives and board members huddle in small groups, their voices low and urgent.

Toto catches snippets of conversation as he reviews his notes for the meeting.

“Did you hear? She’s actually coming today,” whispers Bradley, the team’s financial officer.

Sarah, head of marketing, leans in. “I can’t believe Reginald left her his stake. What was he thinking?”

“Probably wasn’t thinking with his head, if you know what I mean,” chuckles Thomas, the technical director.

Toto clears his throat, silencing the gossip. “Let’s keep things professional, shall we? We have important matters to discuss today.”

As if on cue, the boardroom door swings open. The room falls into an immediate, almost eerie silence as you stride in, turning heads with every click of your Manolo Blahnik heels against the polished floor.

Toto finds himself holding his breath, caught off guard by your presence. He’s seen photos, of course, but they didn’t do you justice. Your tailored Armani suit exudes power and confidence, while your eyes scan the room with a shrewd intelligence that sends a shiver down his spine.

You take your seat at the far end of the table, directly opposite Toto. “Good morning, everyone. I hope I’m not late.”

Your voice, smooth as silk with a hint of amusement, breaks the spell. The room erupts into a flurry of awkward greetings and nervous coughs.

Toto clears his throat again, trying to regain control of the situation. “Not at all. We were just about to begin. Welcome, Lady Worthington. We’re honored to have you join us today.”

You smile, a dazzling display that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Please, call me Y/N. We’re all colleagues here, after all.”

Toto nods, fighting to keep his composure. “Of course, Y/N. Shall we begin with the agenda?”

As the meeting progresses, Toto finds himself increasingly distracted. He’s used to being the most commanding presence in any room, but your arrival has shifted the dynamic entirely. Every time you speak, offering insights or asking pointed questions, the rest of the board seems to hold its breath.

“I’ve been reviewing our sustainability initiatives,” you say during a lull in the conversation. “While I applaud our efforts so far, I believe we could be doing more. Formula 1 has an unique platform to drive innovation in green technologies. We should be leading the charge, not just following along.”

Bradley shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “With all due respect, Lady- I mean, Y/N, implementing new sustainability measures could be quite costly. We need to consider the bottom line.”

You lean forward, fixing Bradley with an intense gaze. “And what about the cost of falling behind? Of being seen as out of touch with the concerns of younger fans? Sometimes, you have to spend money to make money.”

Toto finds himself nodding in agreement before he even realizes it. “Y/N raises an excellent point. Perhaps we should form a task force to explore more aggressive sustainability options.”

You flash him a grateful smile, and Toto feels his heart skip a beat. He quickly looks down at his notes, trying to regain his composure.

As the meeting continues, you consistently challenge the status quo, pushing for bolder strategies and innovative approaches. Toto watches in fascination as you deftly navigate the complex dynamics of the board, alternating between charm and steel as the situation demands.

During a discussion about driver development, you interject again. “I’ve been looking into our junior driver program, and I think we’re missing opportunities. We’re too focused on traditional racing backgrounds. What about sim racers? Or scouting karters from developing countries? We could be tapping into a whole new pool of talent.”

Sarah, the marketing head, perks up at this. “That’s ... actually a brilliant idea. It could really broaden our appeal, especially in emerging markets.”

You nod appreciatively. “Exactly. And imagine the stories we could tell. The sim racer who became an F1 champion or the kid from a small village who rose to the top of motorsport. That’s the kind of narrative that builds brand loyalty and inspires the next generation of fans.”

Toto finds himself leaning forward, completely engrossed. “I love this direction. Y/N, would you be willing to work with Sarah to develop a proposal for expanding our driver search?”

“Of course,” you reply with a smile that makes Toto’s pulse quicken. “I’d be delighted.”

As the meeting winds down, Toto realizes that the entire dynamic of the board has shifted. The initial wariness towards you has given way to a mixture of respect and curiosity. Even those who seemed most skeptical at the start are now hanging on your every word.

“Well,” Toto says, glancing at his watch, “I think that concludes our agenda for today. Unless anyone has any other matters to discuss?”

The room is silent for a moment before you speak up. “Actually, if I may, I’d like to address the elephant in the room.”

A tense hush falls over the gathering. Toto holds his breath, unsure of what’s coming next.

You stand, your posture relaxed but commanding. “I’m aware of the rumors and speculation surrounding my ... personal life. I want to assure all of you that my presence here is purely professional. I’m not here to cause drama or upheaval. I’m here because I believe in the potential of this team and this sport. I hope that over time, you’ll come to judge me based on my contributions, not on gossip or hearsay.”

The sincerity in your voice is palpable, and Toto can see the effect it has on the room. Shoulders relax, expressions soften. There’s a collective exhale, as if a weight has been lifted.

“Thank you for your honesty,” Toto says, standing as well. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we look forward to working with you and seeing what fresh perspectives you can bring to the team.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table. As the meeting officially adjourns, people begin to gather their things and file out of the room. Toto notices that several board members linger, clearly hoping to have a word with you. He feels an unexpected twinge of jealousy.

Before he can second-guess himself, Toto makes his way around the table to where you’re chatting with Sarah about the junior driver program idea.

“Excuse me,” he says, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “Y/N, I was wondering if I could have a word?”

You turn to him with a smile that makes his heart race. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

He takes a deep breath, acutely aware of the curious glances from the remaining board members. “I was impressed by your insights today. I think there’s a lot we could discuss further about the future direction of the team. Would you perhaps be interested in continuing this conversation over dinner?”

A hush falls over the remaining occupants of the room. Toto can practically feel the weight of their stares, but he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

You raise an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement playing across your features. “Dinner? My, my, Toto. Aren’t you afraid of me? I do have quite the reputation, you know.”

There’s a challenge in your voice, but also a hint of vulnerability that catches Toto off guard. He realizes that beneath your confident exterior, you’re testing him, gauging his true intentions.

Toto meets your gaze steadily, his voice low but firm. “I don’t put much stock in rumors. I prefer to form my own opinions based on what I see and experience. And what I’ve seen today is a brilliant, passionate individual who could be a tremendous asset to this team. That’s the person I’m interested in getting to know better.”

The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for your response. You study Toto for a long moment, your expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spreads across your face.

“Well, in that case, I’d be delighted to have dinner with you. Shall we say eight o’clock?”

Toto feels a rush of relief and excitement. “Eight o’clock sounds perfect. I know just the place.”

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, Toto can’t help but feel like he’s standing on the precipice of something monumental. He’s built his career on calculated risks, on seeing potential where others see danger. Looking at you, he knows that this might be the biggest gamble of his life.

But as you turn to give him one last smile before exiting the boardroom, Toto is certain of one thing: it’s a risk he’s more than willing to take.

***

The Monaco Grand Prix paddock buzzes with excitement, a hive of activity as teams prepare for the most glamorous race on the Formula 1 calendar. Lewis Hamilton and George Russell huddle in a quiet corner of the Mercedes garage, their voices low and urgent.

“I’m telling you, mate, something’s not right,” George insists, his eyes darting around to ensure they’re not overheard. “Have you seen the way Toto’s been acting lately? It’s like he’s under some kind of spell.”

Lewis nods grimly, his usual pre-race focus replaced by concern. “I know what you mean. Ever since she came into the picture, it’s like he’s a different person. Always distracted, making decisions that don’t quite add up.”

“Exactly!” George exclaims, then quickly lowers his voice again. “And have you noticed how she’s always around now? At every meeting, every strategy session. It’s like she’s trying to learn all our secrets.”

Lewis furrows his brow, deep in thought. “You don’t think ... I mean, surely she wouldn’t actually try to ...”

“Kill him?” George finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know, mate. But look at her track record. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marrying her. And now she’s got her claws into Toto.”

As if summoned by their conversation, you appear at the entrance of the garage, Toto at your side. The team principal’s hand rests comfortably on the small of your back as he leads you through the bustling workspace.

Lewis and George fall silent, watching intently as you make your way towards them. Your designer sundress and oversized sunglasses scream understated elegance, but to the two drivers, you might as well be wearing a black widow’s web.

“Good morning,” Toto calls out cheerfully. “Ready for qualifying?”

Lewis forces a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “Morning, Toto. Yeah, we were just discussing strategy.”

You step forward, flashing a dazzling smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important. I’m still learning all the intricacies of race weekends.”

George clears his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Not at all. We were just finishing up.”

Toto beams, looking from you to his drivers with pride. “Isn’t it wonderful having Y/N here? She’s already brought so many fresh ideas to the team. I don’t know how we managed without her.”

You laugh, a sound that sends chills down Lewis and George’s spines. “Oh, darling, you’re exaggerating. I’m sure these boys were doing just fine before I came along.”

As you speak, your hand reaches up to smooth Toto’s collar, a gesture that seems innocent enough but makes both drivers tense.

Lewis clears his throat. “Actually, Toto, could we have a quick word? About the, uh, tire strategy?”

Toto looks surprised but nods. “Of course. Y/N, would you mind giving us a moment?”

“Not at all,” you reply smoothly. “I’ll just go chat with the mechanics. I’m fascinated by all this technology.”

As you saunter away, Lewis and George exchange a meaningful glance. This is their chance.

“Toto,” Lewis begins, choosing his words carefully. “We’re a bit concerned. About you, actually.”

Toto’s brow furrows in confusion. “Concerned? What do you mean?”

George jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just that ... well, things have been different since you started seeing her. And given her history ...”

“Her history?” Toto repeats, his voice taking on an edge. “What exactly are you implying?”

Lewis takes a deep breath. “Toto, we care about you. And we can’t help but notice that Y/N’s previous partners have all met with ... unfortunate ends.”

For a moment, Toto just stares at them, his expression unreadable. Then, to their surprise, he bursts out laughing.

“Oh, boys,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I appreciate your concern, truly. But I assure you, it’s misplaced. Y/N has been nothing but a positive influence on both me and the team.”

George persists, his voice urgent. “But Toto, you have to admit, the pattern is alarming. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marriage. And now she’s here, learning all about our team, our strategies ...”

Toto’s amusement fades, replaced by a stern look. “That’s enough. I understand you’re worried, but I won’t have you spreading baseless rumors. Y/N is here because she’s a part-owner of this team and because I invited her. End of discussion.”

As Toto walks away, Lewis and George share a look of dismay.

“He’s in too deep,” Lewis mutters. “We need to do something.”

George nods grimly. “We can’t let her hurt him. Or the team. We need a plan.”

Throughout the day, as qualifying unfolds, Lewis and George find themselves constantly distracted. Every time they catch a glimpse of you in the garage or on the pit wall, their imaginations run wild.

During a brief break between sessions, they overhear a snippet of conversation between you and one of the engineers.

“So, if something were to go wrong with the car during the race,” you’re saying, “what would be the most catastrophic point of failure?”

The engineer launches into a detailed explanation of various mechanical vulnerabilities, unaware of the horrified looks on the drivers’ faces.

“She’s gathering intel,” George whispers to Lewis. “Probably planning some sort of accident for Toto.”

Lewis nods, his jaw set with determination. “We need to warn him again. Make him see reason.”

But their attempts to get Toto alone prove futile. You seem to be constantly by his side, your hand on his arm, whispering in his ear. To an outsider, it might look like the actions of a loving girlfriend, but to Lewis and George, every gesture seems calculated and sinister.

As the day wears on, their paranoia grows. They start seeing threats everywhere. When you hand Toto a bottle of water, they’re convinced it’s poisoned. When you suggest he take a look at something in the back of the garage, they’re sure you’re luring him away to do him harm.

Finally, as the sun begins to set over the Monaco harbor, they decide they can’t wait any longer. They need to confront you directly.

They find you alone in the hospitality area, reviewing some papers. As they approach, you look up with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Lewis, George,” you greet them warmly. “Excellent qualifying today. You must be pleased.”

Lewis takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Cut the act. We know what you’re up to.”

Your expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in your eyes. “I’m not sure I understand. What exactly am I up to?”

George steps forward, his voice low and intense. “We know about your husbands. All seven of them. And we’re not going to let you add Toto to that list.”

For a moment, you just stare at them, your face unreadable. Then, to their surprise, you burst out laughing.

“Oh,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “Is that what this is all about? You think I’m here to kill Toto?”

Lewis and George exchange confused glances, thrown off by your reaction.

You lean in, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me tell you a little secret. Those men? They were all terminally ill when I married them. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple. They got to spend their last months with a young, beautiful wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play involved.”

The drivers stare at you, speechless. You continue, your tone becoming more serious.

“As for Toto, well, that’s different. For the first time in my life, I’ve found someone I genuinely care for. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just what I can offer. I’m not here to hurt him or the team. I’m here because I want to be part of something meaningful.”

Lewis and George exchange uncertain glances, their convictions shaken.

“But ... all the questions about the car, the team strategies ...” George begins.

You roll your eyes, a hint of amusement in your voice. “I’m a part-owner of this team now, remember? Of course I’m trying to learn everything I can. How else can I contribute?”

As the truth of your words sinks in, Lewis and George begin to feel a creeping sense of embarrassment. They’ve let their imaginations and preconceptions run wild, seeing threats where there were none.

“I ... we ...” Lewis stammers, struggling to find the right words.

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “It’s alright. I understand. My reputation precedes me, and you were just looking out for Toto. I can respect that.”

George rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “We may have gotten a bit carried away. I’m sorry.”

You smile, and this time it reaches your eyes. “Apology accepted. Now, what do you say we put this behind us and focus on winning tomorrow’s race?”

As if on cue, Toto appears, looking between the three of you with curiosity. “Everything alright here?”

You stand, moving to his side and slipping your arm through his. “Everything’s perfect, darling. In fact, I think Lewis and George were just about to share some ideas they had for the race strategy. Weren’t you, boys?”

Lewis and George nod, grateful for the out you’ve given them. As they launch into a discussion about tire management and overtaking opportunities, they can’t help but marvel at how wrong they’ve been.

Watching you interact with Toto, they see not a black widow spinning her web, but a woman genuinely in love, bringing out the best in their team principal. They realize that sometimes, people can surprise you. And sometimes, the most unexpected additions to a team can be the most valuable.

***

The soft glow of chandeliers bathes the exclusive Monégasque restaurant in warm light, casting elegant shadows across the faces of Monaco’s elite. Grigori Volkov, a grizzled veteran of the Russian underworld, sips his vodka, his weathered face a mask of careful neutrality as he surveys the room.

His eyes narrow as they land on a familiar figure across the crowded dining area. It can’t be, he thinks, leaning forward for a better look. But there’s no mistaking that face, those eyes that have haunted his dreams and nightmares for years.

You.

Grigori watches as you laugh, your hand resting lightly on the arm of a tall, distinguished-looking man. He recognizes him vaguely. But what catches Grigori off guard is the easy intimacy between you, the matching wedding bands glinting in the low light.

For a moment, Grigori considers slipping out unnoticed. But curiosity gets the better of him. He signals the waiter, ordering another round of drinks to be sent to your table.

As the waiter approaches with the drinks, Grigori sees your posture stiffen slightly, your eyes scanning the room until they lock onto his. He raises his glass in a small salute, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You lean in, whispering something to Toto. The man looks surprised but nods, and together you make your way towards Grigori’s table.

“Grigori,” you greet him, your voice a mix of warmth and wariness. “It’s been a long time.”

Grigori stands, bowing slightly. “Indeed it has, my dear. You’re looking well. And who might this be?”

Toto extends his hand, his grip firm. “Toto Wolff. And you are?”

“An old friend of your wife’s,” Grigori replies smoothly, noting the flicker of surprise in Toto’s eyes at the word ’wife’. “Grigori Volkov. I knew Y/N back in her Russian days.”

You gesture to the empty chairs. “May we join you?”

Grigori nods, waving expansively. “Please, be my guests.”

As you settle in, Grigori can’t help but study Toto more closely. He’s younger than expected, vital and alert. Not at all what he’d imagined for your latest conquest.

“So, Toto,” Grigori begins, his accent thick with amusement, “how long have you and our dear Y/N been married?”

Toto smiles, his hand finding yours on the table. “Just over two years now. Best decision I ever made.”

Grigori’s eyebrows shoot up. “Two years? My, my. That’s quite impressive.”

You shoot him a warning look, but Toto just looks confused. “I’m not sure I follow. Why is that impressive?”

Grigori chuckles, taking a long sip of his vodka. “Oh, forgive me. I just meant that Y/N here has always been something of a ... how do you say ... free spirit? Never one to be tied down for long.”

You interject quickly, “People change, Grigori. I’ve found what I was looking for.”

Grigori nods, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Indeed they do. And what of your ... other interests? The ones you inherited from dear Dmitri?”

Toto’s brow furrows. “Dmitri? I’m afraid I don’t know much about Y/N’s ex-husbands.”

“Ex-husbands?” Grigori repeats, feigning surprise. “Oh, but Dmitri was special, wasn’t he? After all, not every day one inherits a slice of the Bratva.”

The color drains from Toto’s face as he turns to you. “The Bratva? As in, the Russian mob?”

You sigh, shooting Grigori a glare that could freeze vodka. “It’s complicated, darling. And very much in the past.”

Grigori leans back, thoroughly enjoying the drama unfolding before him. “Oh, come now, Y/N. Surely your husband deserves to know the truth? About your colorful past, your string of deceased husbands, your unexpected rise to power in certain ... shall we say, unofficial circles?”

Toto looks between you and Grigori, his expression a mix of confusion and growing concern. “Y/N, what is he talking about?”

You take a deep breath, squeezing Toto’s hand. “Toto, there are parts of my past I haven’t told you about. Not because I wanted to keep secrets, but because I wanted to leave that life behind.”

Grigori interjects, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “Oh, but my dear, can one ever truly leave such a life behind? Especially when one has risen to such ... prominent positions?”

Toto’s eyes narrow as he looks at Grigori. “And what exactly is your role in all this?”

Grigori smiles, all teeth and no warmth. “Let’s just say I’m an old associate of Dmitri’s. And by extension, of Y/N’s. Though I must admit, I’m surprised to see you still among the living, Mr. Wolff. Our dear Y/N has quite a reputation, you know.”

You slam your hand on the table, your voice low and dangerous. “Enough, Grigori. That’s not who I am anymore.”

Grigori holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course, of course. I meant no offense. I’m merely ... surprised. After all, your previous husbands weren’t quite so fortunate. Or so young and vigorous.”

Toto’s jaw clenches, his eyes darting between you and Grigori. “I think it’s time we left.”

As you stand to leave, Grigori calls out, “Oh, but we’ve only just begun to catch up. There’s so much your husband doesn’t know, Y/N. About the power you wield, the empire you inherited. Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth about the woman he married?”

You turn back, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something deeper, more dangerous. “The truth, Grigori, is that I left that life behind. I found something real, something worth living for. And if you or anyone else tries to drag me back into that world, you’ll regret it.”

Grigori leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is that a threat, my dear?”

You smile, cold and sharp. “Consider it a friendly warning. From one old friend to another.”

As you and Toto walk away, Grigori can’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine. He’d forgotten, in the years since you’d left Russia, just how formidable you could be.

He watches as you and Toto have an intense, whispered conversation by the exit. To his surprise, instead of storming out, Toto nods, takes your hand, and leads you back to Grigori’s table.

“Mr. Volkov,” Toto says, his voice steady and controlled, “I think it’s time we had an honest conversation. About Y/N’s past, about your ... association, and about how we move forward from here.”

Grigori raises an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Well, well. It seems you’ve found yourself a man with a spine, Y/N. Very well, let’s talk.”

As the three of you settle back into your seats, Grigori can’t help but feel a grudging respect for Toto. Most men would have run for the hills by now, but here he is, ready to face the truth head-on.

“So,” Grigori begins, pouring fresh vodka for all of you, “where shall we start? With Dmitri? With the Bratva? Or perhaps with the mysterious deaths of Y/N’s previous husbands?”

Toto takes a sip of vodka, his eyes never leaving Grigori’s. “Let’s start with the truth. All of it.”

You sigh, your hand finding Toto’s under the table. “Alright. Dmitri was my fifth husband. He was a high-ranking member of the Bratva, and when he died, I inherited his position and his connections.”

Grigori nods approvingly. “She’s being modest. Y/N didn’t just inherit Dmitri’s position — she expanded it. Forged new alliances, eliminated rivals. She became a force to be reckoned with in our world.”

Toto looks at you, his expression unreadable. “And the other husbands?”

You meet his gaze steadily. “They were all older men, all terminally ill. It was a business arrangement. They got to spend their last months with a young wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play, I swear.”

Grigori chuckles. “Oh, come now. There were rumors, whispers of poison, of accidents arranged just so ...”

You whirl on him, your eyes flashing. “Rumors started by people like you. People who couldn’t believe a woman could gain power without resorting to murder.”

Toto squeezes your hand, his voice gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

You turn back to him, your expression softening. “Because I wanted to leave it all behind. When I met you, I saw a chance at a real life, a real relationship. I didn’t want my past to taint that.”

Grigori watches this exchange with growing fascination. He’s never seen you like this — vulnerable, open, genuinely in love. It’s... unsettling.

“And now?” He asks, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice. “What becomes of your empire, Y/N? Your power? Your connections?”

You straighten, your voice firm. “I’ve been systematically dismantling it all. Using the resources to fund legitimate businesses, charitable foundations. I’m out. For good.”

Grigori leans back, genuinely surprised. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re really walking away from it all.”

Toto speaks up, his voice steady. “We’re building something new together. Something honest, something we can be proud of.”

Grigori studies them both for a long moment, then throws back the last of his vodka. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’ve actually done it. You’ve found a way out.”

You nod, a small smile playing at your lips. “I have. And I’d appreciate it if you’d spread the word. Y/N Wolff is retired. Permanently.”

Grigori stands, straightening his jacket. “Consider it done, my dear. But know this — there will always be those who remember who you were, what you were capable of. Be careful.”

As he turns to leave, Toto calls out, “Mr. Volkov?”

Grigori pauses, looking back. “Yes?”

Toto’s voice is calm, but there’s steel beneath the surface. “If anyone from Y/N’s past tries to cause trouble for us, they’ll have to deal with me. And I assure you, I can be just as formidable as my wife when necessary.”

Grigori studies Toto for a moment, then breaks into a broad grin. “I believe you, Mr. Wolff. I really do. Take care of her, won’t you? She’s one of a kind.”

As Grigori walks away, he can’t help but shake his head in amazement. You, the Black Widow of the Bratva, settled down and in love. Will wonders never cease?

He glances back one last time to see you and Toto deep in conversation, your hands intertwined on the table. There’s an openness to your expression that he’s never seen before, a vulnerability that speaks volumes.

For the first time in years, Grigori feels a twinge of envy. Not for your power or your wealth, but for the genuine connection you seem to have found. As he steps out into the cool Monaco night, he wonders if perhaps it’s time for him to consider a change of his own.

After all, if the infamous Y/N can find redemption and true love, maybe there’s hope for an old dog like him yet.

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menagerofmischief · 2 months ago

Text

Nugget Update (MV1)

sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates

driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)

wc: 4.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!

“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.

Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.

Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.

“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”

“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.

“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily.

Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”

“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”

“Is it working?”

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”

Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”

“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling.

“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”

“You look like a trash can threw you up!”

“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage.

And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them.

You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.

You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.

Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track.

With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.

With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.

You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”

“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”

Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”

“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”

“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”

You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”

“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.

The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.

The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.

Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen.

His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.

You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up.

Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.

At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.

Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around.

Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.

Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room.

“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.

“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.

Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.

He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”

You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”

“It is?”

You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.

You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”

“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.

Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”

Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks.

“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.

“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.

“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”

“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”

“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation.

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?”

“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”

Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice.

“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”

“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”

“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”

“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”

“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.

“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”

You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.

His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”

Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.

The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.

“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”

“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”

“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”

He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.

His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.

The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3.

The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.

Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room.

You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair.

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”

“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”

You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips.

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”

Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.

Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.”

“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”

Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”

“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”

You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”

“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”

You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.

You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out.

Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.

“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”

“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go.

“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks.

“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders.

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”

“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”

His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”

You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face.

Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.

The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need.

You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.

“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.

“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.

tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi

i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3

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sheep-from-rad · 20 days ago

Text

Photograph (Platonic Batman x reader) (second half inched on the yan territory)

Notes: I made a joke that I wasn’t held enough as a child. Well, jokes on me because it was apparently not a joke. I'm still shit at making endings, help Merry Christmas folks <3

Masterlist

dividers by: @strangergraphics

“Isn’t this for newborns?”

Bruce sat shirtless on the room’s armchair. The room didn’t exist until this week, back then it was just another one of the big guest rooms inside the mansion. From formal, vintage patterned, dark green wallpapers it changed into a soft pudding yellow (Jason’s suggestion) and the corners are filled with soft plushies. He looked down on his shirtless self again as Alfred stood by the crib to prepare the four month old infant. Years of fighting rogues but it was the thought of holding a baby that made him nervous.

He takes a silent pride on his body, from his back muscles to his strong arms, from bruises and scars, he wears them like an intangible medal. He thought that the media would question how a businessman like him would have such build but he was easy to conceal it with his ditzy public persona. Ladies did love it but then again holding a lady and holding a baby are two different things.

“You might have missed their newborn days but bonding as father-baby is not too late”, Alfred explained. “Ah, skittish like your father when it was his first time holding you”

Bruce’s hands protectively closed around the sleeping babe. He reclines as Alfred helps lay the baby on his chest, one hand on the head and neck and the other under their bottom. Skin to skin and warm. Warm. He didn’t know an infant could produce such warmth. Is this how his father felt the first time he held him? The feeling of happiness like a small glowing bubble melting in his soul, a warm innocent light in the gloom.

He tensed again when he felt his little baby moved, their tiny arms stretching with all their might. “Alfred I think they are —” Before he could finish his words, he found himself staring at a pair of (eye color) eyes with their little lips curled in a curious ‘o’. They can barely lift their head for a long time but keep doing so to keep the little staring contest going. “What are you doing? Are you memorizing me?” He cringed a little especially knowing that he just butchered the movie quote. The little cringing turned to a small panic when the baby’s little trembled. He braced himself for a wail but instead he was greeted by a gummy smile and a giggle.

A giggle! Sure he missed the days of them being a newborn but they were here to witness the giggle milestone. “You think dad is stupid for quoting it wrong?” As if understanding his words, their giggles turned louder. “Master Bruce, language please.” The master of the house didn’t hear the older man nor the sound of the camera going off, capturing the moment. A picture, one of the many to cherish in the later years.

✮⋆˙(alternate ending here because I can’t make up my mind) ✮⋆˙

Bruce found himself in the room that he hasn’t been in for years. Each step that he took was heavy as his heart, echoing regrets and apologies that needed to be said not just in words but also in actions.

The room was empty with the exception of the barebone furnitures and thin sheet of dust. The only sign that someone once lived in the now lifeless room was a picture frame that was left behind and placed facing down. It was left behind as if mirroring how they had abandoned you. “Where has time gone?” he asked, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He is envious of his younger self in the picture. He wished he could turn back time, hold you close and hold you tight, and reclaim the promises he had forgotten to do. Forgotten like the pictures and the memories and the wallpapers in the room. All yellowed on the edges and faded.

The small sound from his phone snapped him from his trance, he had to compose himself before picking it up.

“Dick?”

“B, we found them”

“Bring them home”

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wannaeatramyeon · 30 days ago

Text

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Imaginary

G/N. Some fluff cos I miss him too. Masterlists

Everyone has heard about you in Workers.

At first, they had thought it was just the delusional ramblings of their executive, Ryuhei Kuroda.

Finally driven mad after Mitsuki's absence and making up tall tales about a mysterious new person to take the edge off the heartache.

You're the cutest, the prettiest, the smartest he would gush to anyone within earshot. You had a smile that could light up the darkest corner and a warmth that could thaw the coldest person.

Supposedly.

Kenta has had the misfortune to hear all about this. And Mandeok. And Yuseong. And Eugene.

Your name has been crowbarred into conversations that really have nothing to do with you. Into meetings and conferences and awkward journeys in the car that no matter how many times Ryuhei is asked to shut up, he will still find a way to bring you up.

Most of it should have been easy to ignore. His friends and colleagues figured these made up stories would soon fade away.

Then the delusion worsened.

Ryuhei's phone wallpaper was changed to a picture of the two of you. The sun's glare was a bit too full to make out all your features, filter a bit too strong, and well-

It all seemed a bit too fake. Whether with the power of Photoshop or AI was anyone's guess.

The lower level workers nodded and smiled politely whenever Ryuhei showed them that picture of you. All the senior team just ignored him.

And it was sorta easy to ignore. Except the number of pictures grew and grew.

Until it becomes obvious that you are real or Ryuhei is spending a psychotic amount of time creating fake couple pics. The evidence that you are not the result of his imagination working overtime is beginning to look pretty indisputable, yet no-one truly, one hundred percent, ruled out the latter.

"Very good," Eugene comments, not even looking and pushing Ryuhei's phone away when it is thrust in his face.

Ryuhei beams. "Thanks!"

The truth startles everyone one evening.

As the Workers employees finish for their day, making their way out of the building and starting their commute home, they spot you waiting in the reception area.

How could they not recognise you? Ryuhei has been showing your face around constantly.

You... You are so much sweeter than Ryuhei is used to. None of the edge or malice that Mitsuki had. One look at you and it's obvious.

No air of manipulation or wrong-doing. Definitely not a likely candidate to drug a man and erase his memories.

Someone normal, without the baggage that comes with their sort of lifestyle.

And maybe with you and Ryuhei, opposites attract.

Eugene's eyes flicker towards you as he walks past. Mandeok, flanking his left, manages to control his jaw from dropping and Yuseong, on the right, shrugs.

Kenta arrives a couple minutes later and double takes. Confusion clouds his features. He stares for a beat too long to be considered polite then also leaves.

You don't notice Kenta or any of the odd looks diverted your way. Your eyes are glued to your phone, soft smile on your face as a series of texts and selfies from Ryuhei come through:

😣😭

Soooorry 😭😭

Just finishing work

*Photo of Ryuhei on the verge of tears in an empty office and a laptop glares behind him*

I hate that you have to wait for me

I hate not seeing you

I hate Eugene

I'll kill him 🤬

Stupid bastard

You're the best

🥰🥰

Thank you for waiting for me ❤️❤️

*Photo of Ryuhei giving you fingers heart and a kissy face*

You text back, short and sweet:

I'll always wait for you

Not even five minutes later, a blur of blonde hair and muscles falls into your lap and wraps you tightly in his arms.

"Fuck work," Ryuhei snarls before turning to you with a toothy grin.

All previous venom is already forgotten as he smothers your face with kisses.

#he is just so dear to me #the pic doesnt fit with the vibe but hes so cute in it #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #ryuhei kuroda #ryuhei kuroda x reader #ryuhei x reader #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #wannaeatramyeon

257 notes · View notes

seungkw1 · 17 days ago

Text

safe haven — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x fem!reader ♡ theme: fluff, hurt/comfort ♡ wc: 3.9k ♡ warnings: post-breakup dynamics, cheating (from ex), swearing, mentions of food ♡ a/n: written as part of the Winter with You collab put on by @camandemstudios - make sure to check out the full collab masterlist here!! give all these talented writers some love <3 and big thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading!!

As if your fiancé leaving you for another woman wasn’t enough to make this the shittiest week of your life, now you’ve managed to lock yourself out of your house during an incoming blizzard. At least your next-door neighbor is home, and he’s kind enough to offer you shelter from the storm. You barely know Jihoon, only having spoken to him a few times - but soon, you discover you have more in common than you initially thought.

Five days ago, you made the innocent mistake of picking up your fiancé’s phone when you thought it was yours. You noticed immediately when you saw the lock screen - it was a photo of you and him from last December, posed in front of a Christmas tree, taken minutes after he proposed. In it, you’re smiling ear to ear, enthusiastically showing off the beautiful engagement ring he bought you. The photo has been his wallpaper ever since. “You look so happy,” he told you a couple months ago. “I can’t bring myself to change it.”

You go to set the phone back down, but a notification catches your eye. You take a closer look, discovering a string of WhatsApp messages, all from somebody named Kelsey.

Huh, that’s weird, you think to yourself. I didn’t know he even used WhatsApp.

Normally, you’d think nothing of it - but something feels off. You hesitate for a moment. You know each other’s passcodes for the sake of convenience; you’ve never felt the need to go through his phone, and you feel bad about even thinking about doing it. But, your gut is telling you to investigate.

You input the password and open the message thread. You’re not quite sure what you’re even looking for, but two seconds of scrolling tells you all you need to know. Dumbfounded, you read the particular message three more times before it sinks in:

Can’t wait for our vacation next week baby, I really need to get away from all of this right now.

Your stomach lurches as if you’ve just been punched in the gut. He told you he was going on a business trip next week. He told you that months ago.

Get away from ‘all of this’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Does he mean… me???

Blood rushes through your ears as you read through the never-ending series of sexts, nudes, notes more romantic than anything he’s ever said to you before, an entire paper trail of all the times and locations of the evident affair - until you feel like you’re going to be sick.

No, it’s not real. It can’t be. There’s no way…

Paralyzed, you stand there in disbelief, but as several more minutes of scrolling pass, it becomes clear that this is actually happening. Tears start to well in your eyes, but you quickly bottle it up, converting the energy into anger instead. You take the phone and march into his office to confront him - ready to shut him down when he tries to deny it.

But, he doesn’t even try to deny it. He doesn’t even care.

“Well, it’s about time you found out anyway,” he tells you nonchalantly.

“Our wedding is in three months!! How fucking long were you going to wait to tell me??”

“I was gonna tell you soon, I just needed it to be the right time.”

“The right time??!! When is there a right time to dump your fiancé???”

“Listen, y/n-”

“Don’t tell me to fucking listen!!” you raise your voice at him. “In fact, don’t say anything else. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“You can’t tell me to get out, this is my house too,” he replies, with the sheer audacity to have a tone of annoyance in his voice.

“It’s MY name on the fucking papers. Get. Out.”

And so, he left. Didn’t even give you his set of keys back. Didn’t even say goodbye.

Now, you sit here parked in your driveway, the howling of harsh winter winds whistling over the melancholy tune playing loudly from the car radio. The volume is cranked all the way up, but despite your best efforts to drown out the outside world, the sharp whooshing sounds persist. Looks like the incoming storm is going to be as bad as predicted - if not worse. The blustering begins to jostle the whole vehicle. You stare aimlessly out the front windshield, watching chunks of snow flying erratically through the air as the winds pick up further. With a sigh, you turn the ignition off, the engine and radio going silent. If you're going to sit around moping, might as well do it inside where it's warm. You reach for the garage door remote clipped on the visor above you, but your hand only hits the soft padding. Right, you think to yourself, still gotta get that one replaced too.

You drag yourself out of your car, hastily throwing your coat on and stumbling through the wind toward your front door. Flipping through your keys, something feels off. You look down, assuming your frozen fingers are just too stiff to pick out the correct one. You stare at the collection for several seconds, but your house key is not there.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself in confusion. Then, a horrible realization sets in: you never put your new key on the keyring after getting your locks changed.

You brace yourself against the wind, trudging through the pile of snow accumulating in your front yard. As you reach the window, you lean over the bushes, peering through the partially-shut blinds into your kitchen to see a set of gold keys, sitting upon the center of the countertop.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Your stupid ex-fiancé isn’t even around anymore and he’s still finding new ways to make your life miserable. If he had just returned your damn keys, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

Tears start welling in your eyes - and this time, you surrender. The droplets begin to freeze on your face almost instantly, but you let yourself cry. After several minutes, you’re feeling slightly better - but you’re getting quite cold. You decide to head back to your car, at least turn the heat on while you try and figure out what to do, no need to stand here and get frostbite-

“Um, excuse me…”

You jump at the sound of the voice coming from behind you, whipping your head around to see a very bundled up man. You can’t see much of his face, but he looks to be in his late-twenties, with dark hair peeking out from under a thick beanie. It takes you a moment, but you realize it’s your next-door neighbor, Jihoon, whom you've met approximately once.

“I just wanted to check if you were okay,” he says loudly, doing his best to speak over the noisy wind. “You’ve been standing out here for a while.”

“Oh,” you reply, also speaking up. You wipe the tears off your cheeks with the back of your gloves. “Um, I’m kind of locked out of my house.”

“Is the lock frozen?”

“No- well actually, I don’t know, it might be, but I don’t have my key,” you explain, gesturing through the window. “It’s in there.”

“How did you manage to do that?” he inquires, not being condescending, but genuinely asking.

“The front door locks behind you when you leave.”

“Ohhh. Well that’s no good.” He pauses for a moment, looking at you curiously, before continuing.

“Um, well I know you don't know me very well, but if you need a place to wait while you call somebody you are welcome to come in,” he tilts his head toward his house. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but it’s really dangerous to be out in this storm.”

Normally, you’d be standoffish to a man you barely know inviting you into his house - but, something about him tells you you can trust him. He looks and sounds sincere, and you really don’t have anywhere else to go. Plus, you’re fucking freezing. You nod at him.

“I would really appreciate that,” you shout over the wind. He nods back, gesturing for you to follow along. He walks with you to his front door, the both of you taking large steps to trek through the several inches of snow that has already accumulated. He turns the knob and ushers you inside, following quickly and shutting the door behind him.

The sounds of the howling wind abruptly stop, the door creating a barricade between you and the heavy winter storm. Your ears ring slightly, but as you adjust to the quietness of indoors you pick up on a familiar tune playing from the other room.

“Is that En Bateau I hear?” you ask as you unlace your boots.

He’s in the middle of unwrapping his scarf from around his head, but he perks up at your question. “Yeah! You know Petite Suite?”

“It’s one of my favorites,” you reply warmly as you take off your coat. You try to avoid letting the jacket’s heavy dusting of snow fall to the floor, without success.

“Dammit, I got your floor all wet,” you inform him with a sigh. You realize you’re shivering - the house is warm, comfortably so, but standing out in the cold for however long you were out there certainly chilled you to your bones. He takes your coat from your hands, shaking off the rest of the snow before putting it on a hanger for you.

“Don’t even worry about it,” he tells you, grabbing a neatly folded towel from the closet and mopping up the mess. “There’s some blankets on the couch, you should warm yourself up.”

The prospect of a nice cozy blanket sends you speedwalking into the living room. You spot the stack of blankets, also neatly folded, and grab the thickest one you see - it’s plush and velvety, dark red in color, and gigantic. You wrap the soft fleece around your whole body, plopping cross-legged onto the couch, practically turning yourself into a cocoon. Immediately you start to warm up, your poor frozen extremities finally relieved of the painful cold. As you defrost, your brain begins to work again, processing your surroundings. Though you’ve never been inside, your neighbor’s abode feels very homely - the decor is largely cream-colored, accented with warm earth tones, doused in low lighting sourced from a few lamps placed strategically around the room. Though a plain, warm white, the walls are flourished tastefully with various unique artworks - nothing you recognize, but all very pleasing to the eye. Not that your ex was a slob, but you’ve never known a man to be so neat and tasteful. Refreshing, you think to yourself.

You hear soft footsteps from behind you as Jihoon enters the room. You turn to see him bearing a glass of water, a piping hot mug, and a small metal tin.

“I don’t know if you like tea,” he starts as he sets the beverages on the coffee table’s coasters. “But I thought you might want something warm to drink.”

“Tea sounds great, thank you so much,” you reply as you wiggle your arms out of the tangle of blanket surrounding you. Reaching for the tin, you pull out a bag of Earl Grey and place it in the mug to steep.

“It’s y/n, right?” he asks as he sits in a nearby armchair.

“That’s me,” you reply. “And you’re Jihoon, yes?”

He nods to confirm. “I know we met once a while ago,” he adds, “but I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”

"Of course I remember, I accidentally stole your packages,” you say with a laugh. “I felt bad about that for months.”

“No harm done, it was an honest mistake,” he replies with a calm smile.

The tea is nowhere near ready, but you take a sip anyway. The hot liquid sends a wave of warmth through your whole body, making you instantly feel much better. Now that you’re not freezing and in tears, you can finally think straight, and you remember why you’re here in the first place.

“I should call the locksmith, god knows how long it’s gonna take them to get here in this storm,” you state as you look around for your phone, but it’s nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, I think my phone is still in my bag.”

You start to get up, but Jihoon is faster.

“Here, I’ll grab it for you.”

He disappears from the room in an instant, returning a few moments later with your bag in hand. Thanking him politely, you rummage around for your phone until you find it. You open Google and type locksmith into the search, calling the first one you see with good reviews.

“I’m sorry ma’am, due to the storm we aren’t able to send anyone out until tomorrow.”

You try another one, but it’s the same story. A third one, no luck either. Nobody is able to come out until tomorrow morning. Dejected, you go ahead and schedule an appointment for 7am the next day. You do your best to remain calm, but you’re too exhausted to hold in your tears.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say to Jihoon, burying your face with your hands.

“Hey,” he replies softly. “It’s gonna be okay. You can stay here as long as you need.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you sigh.

“You’re not,” he assures you. “I promise. You’re welcome to take the guest room.”

“Are you sure?” you say with a sniffle, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Of course,” he nods.

“Thank you so much,” you tell him sincerely. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem at all,” he says with a soft smile. “Also, are you hungry? I have some leftover stew I was going to heat up, if you’d like some.”

You didn’t even realize that you were hungry, but the mention of food makes your stomach rumble.

“That sounds amazing,” you reply.

Jihoon spends a few minutes in the kitchen, returning with two steaming bowls of a hearty-looking beef stew.

“This is delicious,” you remark as you scoop another chunk of potato into your mouth. “I’m gonna need your recipe.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jihoon replies humbly. “I’m glad you like it.”

Several moments of silence pass between you two as you enjoy the meal, the music of Debussy’s piano filling the room in lieu of conversation. But instead of it being awkward, you feel peaceful, replenished from the food and the warmth of Jihoon’s home.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he eventually turns to ask you. “I like having something on while I eat, but if not it’s okay.”

“Sounds good to me,” you reply. “What are you watching right now?”

“Oh, um, I like… anime,” he says sheepishly, turning slightly pink with embarrassment. “But we definitely don’t have to watch that. What do you like?”

“Have you seen The Great British Bake Off?” you respond. “It’s on Netflix.”

“Never heard of it,” he admits, but he already has the tv remote in hand, opening the app.

“I haven’t seen the new season yet, if you want to start there.”

“Will I understand it if I haven’t seen the other seasons?” he inquires, causing you to giggle.

“It’s a reality show, each season is different,” you fill him in, proceeding to explain the premise. He listens earnestly, but his facial expression tells you he is skeptical.

“It’s really good, I promise!” you assure him.

“I don’t really get it,” he admits with a confused look on his face. “But if you say it’s good, I’ll take your word for it.”

He puts on the first episode, letting you explain the different challenges to him. About halfway through the episode, he turns to you.

“So… what exactly do they win?”

“A cake stand,” you answer. The look of bewilderment on his face makes you laugh again.

“So they don’t even get any money from it??”

“Nope,” you reply, cozying up under the blanket again. “That’s why it’s so wholesome.”

“Ah, okay,” he says, still unsure about the whole thing. But by the end of the first episode, he’s hooked.

“How do they do that??” he remarks at each contestant’s fanciful cake in the final challenge, his eyes glued to the tv. As soon as the credits start to roll, he clicks the Next Episode button.

“See? I told you it was good,” you say with a sleepy smile. The combination of the satisfying dinner, the warmth of the blanket, and the relaxing nature of the show is quickly making your eyelids turn heavy. You lean your head against the back of the couch, determined not to doze off - but within a few minutes, you are fast asleep.

The soft light of early dawn glows through your closed eyelids as you begin to awaken. You’re so warm and comfortable that you don’t even bother opening your eyes - instead you just lay there, relaxing under the blankets. As your brain slowly wakes, last night’s events start to register in your mind - you grimace as you recall the bitter cold of being stuck outside your own house, having a breakdown, feeling utterly helpless until-

Your eyes pop open. Sleepily adjusting to the morning light filtering in through the windows, you see that you’re still in Jihoon’s house, on the couch. You turn your face to see a pillow underneath your head that wasn’t there previously, and an extra knit blanket draped over the red fleece one that was already wrapped around you. Jihoon is nowhere in sight, presumably still asleep. You wonder what time it is - when suddenly you remember the locksmith appointment you made for 7am. Panicked, you bolt upright, searching for your phone amidst the blankets, until you spot it laying upon the coffee table, plugged into a charger that isn’t yours. You snatch it up, your heart sinking when you see the time: 7:34am.

“SHIT,” you grumble to yourself. You hurriedly unravel yourself from the tangle of blankets - it’s still warm in his house, but a chill hits you in the absence of the cozy covers. Sitting fully upright, you feel your feet bump something as they touch the carpet. Looking down, you spot a pair of slippers - light beige in color, women’s, brand new with the tags still on. For a moment you feel a bit weird about putting them on (Why does he have these, anyway?), but you’re cold, and at this point you don’t care. You slip them on, the comfort of the fluffy interior immediately making you glad you did. They feel high quality - luxurious even, and now you feel nice and toasty. Rising from the couch, you grab the top blanket and wrap it around you. The inviting scent of coffee suddenly hits you - you follow it into the kitchen, where Jihoon stands before a brewing coffee pot. Noticing you have entered the room, he turns to greet you.

“Good morning,” he says warmly. He wears a pair of plaid pajama pants, seemingly with a matching top underneath a dark fleece quarter-zip. You note that he also has slippers on, not too dissimilar from the ones currently on your feet. As the coffee finishes brewing, he grabs two mugs, gesturing to you with one.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some,” you answer. He takes the pot and pours the piping hot beverage into your mug.

“Cream and sugar?”

“Yes, please.”

He fixes your drink and hands you the steaming mug. You take a small, careful sip, your insides instantly warmed by the smooth brew.

“Delicious, thank you,” you tell him, taking another generous sip.

“Of course,” he nods.

“Guess I missed the locksmith,” you say with a sigh. “I should’ve thought to set an alarm before I passed out.”

He turns, reaching for something on the counter. Turning back, he extends his hand to you, your keys laying in his palm.

“Already taken care of,” he says with a smile.

“How did you…” Your words trail off as you take the keys, your fingertips lightly grazing his warm skin.

“I met the locksmith and explained the situation,” he explains. “He picked the lock in like, one minute.” He gives you an apologetic look as he continues. “I’m sorry I went into your house without asking you first, I felt bad, but I didn’t want to have to wake you and drag you out into the cold.”

“Don’t apologize,” you reply, shaking your head quickly. “I really really appreciate it.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he tells you with a soft smile.

“Thank you for the pillow too,” you add. “And the slippers, glad you had these laying around,” you say with a grin. His smile fades slightly, glancing away for a moment.

“They were supposed to be a gift,” he says as he looks at you again. “But I didn’t need them anymore. You can keep them.” He smiles, but despite trying to hide it, his tone is tinged with sadness.

“Oh,” you say softly. “You sure?”

He hesitates slightly, unsure whether to tell you.

“They were for my girlfriend, but she left me a couple weeks ago,” he admits. He looks down at his coffee, stirring it aimlessly with the spoon. A pang of sympathy hits you.

“I’m sorry,” you say gently. “I unfortunately can relate. My fiancé left me five days ago, for another woman.”

He perks his head up slightly in surprise. “Oh wow, what an awful week this must be. I’m sorry, too.”

“Yeah, quite honestly, it fucking sucks,” you say, staring off into space a bit.

“I was about to propose,” he adds, unsure exactly why he’s telling you this. But you both are feeling a newfound, unspoken kinship in your aligned misfortunes. “But one day she just told me she didn’t love me anymore.”

“Jesus, that’s terrible, I’m so sorry,” you empathize. “I found out my fiancé was cheating on me and confronted him. He didn’t even give a shit so I kicked him out, haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

“Wow,” Jihoon says with wide eyes. He lets out a sigh. “I had already bought a ring, too. She didn’t know, but I had the whole proposal planned out.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “I guess it’s for the better that she left before I even bothered.”

“Yeah, doesn’t make it any less painful though.”

“Definitely not. And I wasn’t even able to return the ring.” He laughs, letting out an incredulous huff.

“Oh my god,” you react in bewilderment.

“It’s alright,” he says calmly. “Maybe I’ll be able to use it someday.”

His eyes linger on you slightly too long as the words roll off his tongue. The moment is brief, fleeting - but it’s enough for you to notice.

“Would you like any more coffee?” he asks before you can fully process anything, nudging the pot in your direction.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you reply, finishing the last bit in your mug.

“Here, I’ll take it.”

“I better get going, now that I can actually get into my house,” you announce with a smile. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You weren’t a bother at all,” he assures you. “But I’m sure you’re dying to go home.”

Jihoon walks to his entryway. He gathers your things for you, taking your coat from the closet and helping you into it.

“I truly can’t thank you enough,” you tell him sincerely. “You really saved my ass.”

He smiles at you. “You’re very welcome. It was nice to finally properly meet you, y/n.”

He hands you something as he opens the door for you. You take it - it’s a blue sticky note, with his name and phone number written neatly on it.

“You can always call me if you need anything at all.”

“Thank you,” you smile warmly, folding the note and tucking it safely into your pocket. “I will.”

226 notes · View notes

merakiui · 15 days ago

Note

wait wait wait wait gimme a sec……big bad wolf Jade and Red Riding Hood reader 😳 going to visit your granny but ending up banged and stuffed by this big wolf guy (maybe even +hunter Floyd)

AAAAAAA OTL OTL down tremendously bad for wolf Jade,,,, so scummy…… such a silver-tongued wolf, trying to tempt and stray you from your path to grandmother’s house. >_< he’s so hungry, you see. :< won’t you find some kindness in your heart to stop and lend him something sweet from your basket? That jar of homemade strawberry marmalade looks particularly delicious. :) but you rip it away from his clawed hands and insist that you must be on your way, for your grandmother is expecting you. He smiles like he understands and he doesn’t follow you, but you can’t stop looking over your shoulder the rest of the way.

Can you truly blame a ravenous wolf for making a meal out of your grandmother? You make it to her small cottage to find a smattering of blood soaking the walls of her bedroom, staining the wallpaper, the linen sheets, everything in sight. And who should be waiting for you, licking that same blood from his fingers, but that terrible wolf!!!! It truly is a shame, he tells you, for if you had just shown him an ounce of pity he’d have left perfectly satisfied. Alas, he’s still craving something sweet and you smell very appetizing, even more so when you try to flee. <3

Maybe you’re a virgin,,, the village sweetheart praised for being so pure and kindhearted. You don’t quite look like one anymore, though, with your tear-streaked expression and the way your lips have been bitten and bruised from so many hungry kisses. orz he could be merciful and kill you here, but then he wouldn’t have the chance to savor this sweet treat.

Thick wolf cock bullying its way into your tight pussy….. claws scraping at the pudgy flesh of your hips and inner thighs, drawing pinpricks of blood that make you wince and cry out. His thumb grinding harshly against your clit,, a slobbering, bloodstained mouth at your throat, whether to taste your pulse or rip out your jugular with those sharp teeth of his. And such big, calloused hands—big enough to grab you and slam you back down on his knot when you try to escape, pinning you there so you can take all of him inside.

It’s just too much for your little womb to handle, but it satisfies the wolf and his big, bad appetite for fragile things like you. You’re lucky enough to escape with your life, but you can’t say the same for the rest of you. :( you’re only given the opportunity to escape because he allows it—and there’s some lesson to be learned about being kind and generous to those less fortunate, or whatever he’s pretending to be—because he expects to cross paths with you again, and surely then he’ll take what he believes to be his.

And hunter Floyd….. maybe he’s also a wolf, but he likes living amongst humans in this quaint village, so he’s taken to disguising himself. Hiding his ears under a hat or hooded cloak. Stuffing his bushy tail away so no one sees it. Taking care not to show off his teeth so much, or else overly suspicious townsfolk might start crying wolf. Hunting the other beasts in the forest is no problem for him, and the villagers absolutely adore him and his silly, boyish charms.

But Floyd only has eyes for Little Red, and ever since you returned to the village a right mess, tattered, crimson cloak barely covering anything, and looking like you’ve just tussled (and lost) with quite the formidable monster it’s given him an opening to cozy up to you. He’ll hunt the beast who slaughtered your grandmother! You needn’t fear.

Unfortunately, Floyd isn’t the strongest man wolf, and it’s getting harder to do everything the human way when the wolf way is so much easier, if not particularly brutal. But he’ll endure and he’ll be patient because when he takes down that beast you’ll appreciate his efforts and sheer loyalty, and maybe then you’ll stop scoffing every time he tries to strike up flirty conversation with you. Maybe you’ll finally take him seriously and see him as a man wolf worthy of your love.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: knotting

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yoru-no-seiiki · 8 months ago

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tagging @onyanjune and @h0ly-l3mb for giving me the idea/motivation to do this lol

link to original post here

tw/cw: MDNI or you WILL be blocked, DDDNE, (skip for spoilers) yandere! reader, mentioned non/dub con, mentioned filming of said non/dubcon.

yan! cool kid has two siblings, your upperclassman and underclassman respectively. and it hella irritates him how close you are to the two.

ofc yan! reader’s intentions have and will always be depraved yearning. they only befriended the pair for the sake of “getting close to the in-laws.” after all you wouldn’t be a good future spouse if you weren’t somewhat involved in the family side of things.

but your tunnel vision sort of . . . backfired.

“quite a bunch of lunches you’re packing.” he mumbled, raising his head from his arms after a thorough nap through class. he had already studied everything that subject had to offer and thoroughly memorized it thanks to his notes that were covered in photos of you.

“oh these? these aren’t just for me, silly.” you answered. he already knew what you were planning, and you already knew that he knew, but keeping this façade of normalcy was a game you two liked to play, “you haven’t been bringing food to school recently i’ve noticed. so i made some more to share.”

“just one?”

you blinked at him, confused. laughing after you realize where his eyes were focused on. you explain that the rest will be going to his siblings, since you thought it may be a household / financial problem.

soon after that you took off, trying your best to hide the giddy feeling in your body threatening to spill unto your facial expressions.

yan! cool kid stares at his brand new lunch and wonders if you also cut out heart shaped potato for their curries, planning out ways to torture yan! loser later

yan! loser who’s yan! cool kid’s younger brother. they look so different, their demeanors even further apart. the only way you knew they were related was cause you stalked the latter on his way back home and almost killed the former before you found out.

you dropped by his class with a smile. his classmates staring at you with wide eyes as those in higher levels rarely ever go to this section of school.

“i hope you don’t mind, but i made lunch for you. is that okay?”

“is ThaT okAy?” he parroted back at you, his voice cracking, nerves on edge at all the people staring at the situation. he was going to eat lunch alone in the bathroom again like always but was occupied with erasing the marks left by his bullies on the table.

you laugh at his response, and set the lunch you prepared on his table.

you stare blankly at the brutal remarks written across. silently you walked outside before coming back with a spare table. you frown as the food you left remained untouched.

“you should eat first. lunch won’t last forever.”

you pat the poor boy’s back and left.

one last delivery til you were done.

you breathed in, knocking the door to the student council’s room. “mr. president, it’s me.”

“come in.”

yan! school president doesn’t even raise his head to look at you. his focus remaining on the papers in his hand and table. “leave the lunchbox there.” the bespectacled man points to your table in the room.

you set it down obediently and walked out. at least, you tried to until he stops you. “before you go, tell me why i shouldn’t report your actions to the faculty.”

you don’t turn around from the door, but still you answer, “hm, actions?”

“you, using school funds to pay for my youngest brother’s harassment.”

“…mmm…” you turned around, placing a hand on your chin in feigned deep thought “because . . . you love love love me?”

yan! president sighed. you hear paper shredding.

“you may go.”

you giggled. stepping outside of the stuffy room to go finally see your beloved again in class.

you put a hand in your pocket and fished out your phone. briefly smiling at the home screen wallpaper of yan! cool kid and quickly tapping out the password.

you then delete the video of yan! president tying you up as his unclothed hips slammed into yours. your skin covered in bites and slap marks all over. your eyes converging fear as tears fell and your mouth was gagged and unable to voice the feeling. the once prim and proper man man groaning in ecstasy and yelling words of degradation as he defiled you.

but you could only cringed at the words “i love you.” escaping his lips.

“a little reward for mercy i suppose.”

you stuff your phone back into your pocket. wondering if you should also warn him about the laxatives.

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zalayni · 1 year ago

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🌆 LOVE U 3000┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: earth 42!miles morales x reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: your life is always interesting now that you're dating the one and only miles morales.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author's note: the discord server for atsv fans between 13-16 is still open so hmu if you wanna join 😝😝

he cups his hand under your mouth whenever he feeds you food so it won't fall on your clothes.

“here Mami try this” miles cupped his hand under her chin and gently blew in the soup that he had in a spoon so it wouldn't burn your mouth.

your his shadowboxing victim whenever his friends aren't around

he doesn't mind being his nerdy self around you

miles punched the air and faked dodge a nonexistent punch before turning towards you as you sat on his bed with your phone in your hand. “do you think I can defeat batman?” you rolled your eyes and chuckled at him. “Miles he's like twice your size.”

you two obviously play fight for fun. he never once hurt you for real

he gets too lazy to type out his messages sometimes so he resorts into sending you voicenotes instead

deadly ass side eye whenever you jokingly insult him

“that purple hoodie you have on makes you look like grimace” you said with a hand on your mouth to stop the laughter that was about to burst out of her. Miles stopped in his tracks slowly turning his eyes towards you, side eyeing your laughing figure. “you play too much.”

he has the receipt tucked into his wallet from your guy's first date which was at the arcade.

has his lockscreen and wallpaper saved as a picture of you two. he changes it atleast once a month because he adores taking pictures of you.

a bright flash disturbed you from doing your skin care routine. you turned your vanity chair towards the source only to find Miles smiling down at his phone. “did you just take a picture of me?” “um maybe."

you two love to post eachother on your instagrams

bro does not know how to swim 😭😭 if you're able to swim then he'll ask you to teach him but if you can't that still won't stop the two of you from going swimming especially when it's summer

stares at you whenever you're doing your makeup, hair, or even your skincare.

“Morales you're staring.” you joked seeing him stare at you from the corner of your eye. this made Miles scoff “so what?”

he wears a chain with your initial as the pendant and he wears matching bracelets with you.

whenever he sleeps with a bonnet on he wakes up with the end of it hiding one of his eyes.

“what are you laughing at?” he croaked still obviously half asleep. “did you turn emo miles?” you asked before pointing at his bonnet that slipped down, hiding his left eye.

really wanted to get his ears pierced and when he finally got them he was squeezing the blood out of your hands once they held the needle against his hear

you winced at how tight Miles's grip on your hand got. You saw him shut his eyes tightly when the needle went through making the hole for the piercing. Once it was all done he looked down at your hand noticing how red it is which made him laugh. “sorry Mami.”

“five more minutes” warrior. that man refuses to get up early even if you two need to be somewhere on time.

he has a habit of turning towards you with the "did you just see that?" look whenever he sees someone doing something embarrassing.

he'll ask you to come over just so you two can bake together. his mom thinks the two of you are adorable

he has a PC set up with a his gaming chair and right next to it is your set up and chair that he had bought so you two can play together

“do you like it?" Miles said while uncovering your eyes to show you his hard work on setting everything up. the whole setup was based on your favorite colors. “how much did this cost?” you asked making Miles shut you up with a kiss. “don't even worry about it.”

you two danced in the rain once thinking it was a good idea but the both of you ended up sick afterwards

he gifts you a promise ring since you two are too young to get married just yet

has a habit of turning his head so his lips could reach your hand whenever you cup his face

has a whole board filled with pictures of you two either from a polaroid or photobooths

over all gentleman towards you (and his mom ofc)

actually loves physical touch

you were standing up making yourself a sandwich for a late night snack until you felt someone snake their arms around your waist and rest their head against your shoulder. you didn't have to look over your shoulder to figure out who it was. “hey, you hungry?” miles hummed against your shoulder, tightening his grip on your waist. “yeah.”

when you two take the subway he has his arm wrapped around your waist while resting his hand on your hip as his free hand was holding onto one of the poles. he does this no creep comes your way and so you won't fall as the subway can be pretty rough at times.

pulls out his phone whenever you two aren't together in person.

“miss you :(”

“miles I literally just left like a couple minutes ago”

he knows whenever you feel down even if you don't say anything about it

“hermosa, look at me.” he lifted your chin with his hand making you stare up at him. “what's wrong? you're not your usual self.”

respects your boundaries and leaves you alone/drops the subject if you don't feel comfortable talking about it at the moment

“sorry, I just. I just don't wanna talk about it right now.” Miles smiled at you before kissing the top of your hand that he was holding. “it's okay mi niña hermosa, talk to me when you're ready."

#across the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales #atsv imagines #earth42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n

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misc-obeyme · 1 month ago

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prompts: DDD & Diavolo

a/n: Okay I'm getting real creative with the prompts now lol. I wanted to double up, so I spun the wheel twice and these are what I got! So here, have some Diavolo fluff featuring the infamous DDD. @om-adventcalendar

Diavolo x GN!MC

Warnings: just Dia's blinding smile lol~

You collapsed on your bed, ready to spend the rest of your evening sitting around and scrolling mindlessly on your DDD.

You felt in your pocket for the device, only to find it missing. You frowned, checking your other pocket, your book bag, your RAD uniform. Nothing.

You went around the House of Lamentation, searching each room to see if you had left it somewhere inadvertently. Every brother you came across was interrogated, but nobody else had seen it.

You paused in the foyer, mentally retracing your steps. You remembered having it at RAD, but after school you had gone to the Demon Lord's Castle. You smiled at the memory of Diavolo inviting you to join him for tea with a bright smile on his face.

You remembered having it at tea because Lucifer had sent you a message about Beel eating all the food in the house again. After you responded, hadn't you put it back in your pocket?

Perhaps you hadn’t. You couldn’t remember using it again after that.

Your DDD must be at the castle. And even if it wasn't, you wouldn't mind seeing Diavolo again.

When you opened the front door, however, you found Barbatos on the other side, his fist raised as though he was just about to knock. When he saw you, he lowered his hand and smiled. He had your DDD in his other hand.

“The Young Master found that you left this on the table earlier and asked me to return it to you,” Barbatos said.

“Oh,” you said, happy to have the device back, but a little disappointed that Diavolo hadn’t come himself. “Thanks, Barbatos. Is Diavolo busy tonight?”

Barbatos bowed to you briefly after you took the DDD from him. “Yes, I’m afraid the Young Master is inundated with paperwork or I’m certain he would have insisted on bringing this back to you himself.”

You blushed, wondering if your disappointment was that obvious. “Tell him I said thank you. And that we should have tea again soon.”

“Of course, I will relay the message,” Barbatos said.

After he left, you sighed and made your way back to your bedroom. You settled onto your bed, ready to do the scrolling you had planned on earlier.

You unlocked the DDD and found yourself staring at a selfie of Diavolo. He was grinning and flashing a peace sign. He looked absolutely gleeful and you couldn’t help but laugh. You went to your photos to see the selfie there, too. And beside it, a video.

You pressed play.

“MC!” Diavolo exclaimed. “If you’re seeing this, then Barbatos has delivered your DDD. You’ll have to forgive me for not bringing it back to you myself.”

He sighed, looking slightly aggrieved. “I would show you my pile of work, but I’m sure you can imagine it yourself.”

And then those golden eyes were looking directly into the camera and it was like he was right there with you.

“I do hope you’ll return to the castle for tea soon,” he said, a slight smile on his face. “Don’t keep me waiting, MC.”

The video ended and you were contemplating going back right that moment. But you also knew that a little anticipation would make the next time you saw him even sweeter. So instead, you took a selfie exactly like the one that was now your DDD’s wallpaper and sent it to him.

You received the sticker exploding with hearts as a response, making you laugh again. The next time you were at the castle for tea, you noticed that Diavolo’s DDD wallpaper was now matching yours.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#this is so cheesy but yo I thought it was cute~#omadventcalendar #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #om diavolo #om diavolo x reader #x reader #misc writes

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h-haunted · 9 months ago

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starlight

jujutsu kaisen

megumi fushiguro x reader headcanons

gender neutral

sfw

→ megumi loves being close to you. the way you cling to him and how you speak in his ear; he just turns to putty in your arms. he’ll deny it, but he knows it’s true. there’s nothing he loves more than resting his head on your chest while you stroke his hair and whisper all his worries away.

“mmm… five more minutes…” the boy grumbles, his arms only contracting tighter around your waist as you attempt to get up from underneath him. no matter how many times you told him you had things to do, he didn’t budge.

“we’ve been laying like this for two hours!”

“…fine. three more minutes.”

→ he ADORES your eyes. the way they shine, the way they light up when you see him, it all drives him crazy. he could get lost in them. sometimes he does.

“megs, are you even listening to me?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. you had been ranting about something for a few minutes, but megumi didn’t seem to be paying attention. the boy was too busy staring into your eyes, even adoring the way they look when you’re angry. he was snapped out of his trance when you snapped your fingers in front of his face.

“hm..?”

“are you listening to me?”

“yeah, yeah, totally.”

→ he gets jealous really easily. he doesn’t like it when you give other people attention. a lot of the time, he gets pouty and clingy after seeing you happy around someone else.

“who was that?” megumi asked, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you against his body.

“just a friend i haven’t seen in a while,” you shrug, leaning into his touch.”

“…oh…” the boy’s hands grip your waist as he buries his face deep in the crook of your neck. he just stands there for a moment, breathing in your scent. “just a friend..?”

“just a friend.”

→ he hates it when you’re left alone with gojo. his father figure tells you all kinds of stories about him when he was younger. everything from embarrassing pictures to things he drew, you’ve seen it all.

megumi had only left for five minutes at max. the two of you were sitting at the table having coffee, and he needed to go do something real quick. in that short amount of time, gojo had stolen his place at the table and was telling you all kinds of tales from when your boyfriend was younger.

“gojo!” megumi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. gojo just chuckled.

“c’mon, i’m just telling them about you!”

“stop. just… stop.”

→ not only does megumi get jealous of other people, he also gets jealous of his dogs. he always says they’re for fighting, not petting. that you’ll just spoil them and they won’t listen to him. yet, every single time you ask, he lets you see them.

megumi watched with a blank face as you showered the dogs with affection. the white one was licking your face, and the black one was rubbing its head against your palm. the boy grumbled, his eyes narrowing slightly. why couldn’t you give him all that attention? it wasn’t fair. though he was jealous, he couldn’t help but smile. you looked happy, and that was (mostly) all he cared about.

→ he has hundreds of pictures of you between his camera and his phone. you’re even his wallpaper. you’re just so perfect, he can’t stop. he makes sure you’re okay with it too, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

“smile.” megumi says, pointing his phone at you. the moment you curl your lips up, he takes a picture before tapping the little heart icon at the bottom to add it to his favorites. you slide over to catch a quick peek at the way the picture looked. your brow furrowed.

“hmm, that one looks a little weird.”

“i think it’s perfect.”

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fawnsflowerbed · 9 days ago

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HELLOOOOOOOO!!!!

Carrying over from the previous puppy leon ask, I was thinking about hybrid dog vendetta leon, just finding him on your porch, just laying down behind one of the chairs. He hasn’t knocked on your door to ask for food, he never will. He’s at rock bottom, he doesn’t want to eat anymore, all he wants to do is sleep and listen to your music thats muffled outside. One day you take the trash out and you notice him and he’s too numb to be scared of any potential consequences, expecting the worst out of you, but instead he gets his cheek rubbed and scratchies behind the ears. And then hes being carried into your home, soft praises being mumbled into his ear, and he has a warm bath and a hot meal waiting for him. All the dirt and grime is cleaned off, theres a warmth in his belly again, and he’s laid in your bed. And he just looks up at you with all the adoration in the world. He’s someone’s little angel now, their sweetheart, their baby. It’s too good to be true, one day he’ll be thrown out once you realize how sad and useless he is, he can’t even do the bare minimum of being the happy, comforting dog he’s supposed to be. But it doesn’t seem to matter to you, you call him a good boy all the same and just hold him, kissing his forehead and his freshly washed hair. You’re happy with him now, oddly enough, his curious sniffing and his big eyes staring up at you makes you smile. Maybe you will get tired of him one day (no you won’t), but at least right now there’s someone who loves him. Right in this moment, he’s loved, he’s cared for. That’s more than he’s ever had in the past. And maybe instead of worrying, he should just lean into the affection. So he does. He wraps his arms around your waist and licks your cheek, a silent thank you, and he buries his face into your neck, a wetness soaking through your sweater, and eventually he falls asleep, warm and happy, and at home.

-🌷

OLD MAN DOG HYBRID LEONNNN!!!! SCRATCHES UP MY WALLPAPER!!!!! The way his exhaustion would soak through his skin, he can't even muster a growl as he sits behind your porch chairs in the pouring rain. You frown, and he's sure you're going to tell him to piss off and bug someone else. But instead you seem.. soft. Leaning down to rub his cheek, running a hand over his hair to scratch behind his ear. It's been so long since he'd been touched with such tender care, leaning his head into the scritching with an exhausted sigh. Hardly registering how you straighten him and sling him into your home.

"Poor thing.." You mumble, and he can't help but agree. He's pitiful compared to his younger self. Yet you don't say it as an insult, moreso as a worry. Gently brushing the hair from his face as you carefully shed his clothes and settle him into a hot bath. How long had it been since he'd had a proper bath? With you gently working soap over the dirt caking his skin and combing the knots from his hair. He doesn't growl, or snap, he just stares at the bottom of the tub aimlessly. Only making out the soothing tone of your voice as you wash out and off the suds. "There you go, good boy." Oh, he hasn't heard that in so long.

He's not a fan of the hair dryer, but that's okay. He doesn't bite and nip at the air with an angrily stiff tail, he's grown out of that phase. So he only grumbles mentally at the whir of the fan.

But the huffs stop when he realises the reason you left him alone in the tub for a moment (and he, as a good boy, remained sat and stayed) was because you were washing and drying his clothes. Just a quick five minute rinse and wash in the sink, a fast run through the dryer. It'd been so long since he'd relished in the smell of washing detergent, the softness of clean linen and cotton. His tail swishes, working the fabric over his now clean body before carefully treading downstairs, ears up and eyes wide and nose sniffing. Taking in the aura of your home, the comfort. But he could smell it. Food. Warm, hot food.

When he does make it downstairs there you are, setting a bowl of steaming food down on the dining table with a soft smile. "That must feel better, huh buddy?" There goes his tail again, watching as you pat the seat. "C'mon, you're probably starving."

Even as he snuffles at the food before eating it, even as he wipes his mouth haphazardly with his hand out of habit rather than using a napkin, he looks around the house with curious eyes. Even after his belly is full and his heart is whole, you stay. You don't kick him to the curb after an act of kindness like he expected. Instead you pet over his wet hair, let him sniff at your neck and hands, his tail swaying. You're patient.

And patience is what he needed.

#VENDETTA LEON DOG HYBRID!!!!!!!#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s. kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x yn #hybrid

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luvyeni · 2 months ago

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𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 ! ㅤ ㅤ𓂃 ㅤ박성훈

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE. minas pov... 「 materialist 」

ㅤ୨ৎ no one in your friend group couldn't understand why you and sunghoon stopped being friends after freshman year of college; they all chalked it up as for reasons only you and he knew about , you and sunghoon couldnt get along, and when he threatened to tell your brother something your deepest darkest secret you called him a virgin who couldn't read to your 24k fans and the name spread throughout the campus…ㅤ

𓂃 🎞️. chapter warnings. angst , language , jungwon is lowkey being dramatic but i digress word count. 1981

“i can't believe our weekend is over.” sunoo said , all of you piling into the kitchen to eat breakfast. “tomorrow morning we head back to campus.” jay passed around the curry he made that morning. “we should make the most of this day , who knows when sunoo parents will let us use this place again.”

before anyone could agree, shouting was heard from upstairs. “can we not bring those two next time.” julie said , you picked at your food. “more like just her.” everyone turned to you. “i said that out loud?” you asked embarrassed. “yeah , you did.” jungwon said. “sorry , i meant , maybe next time we only bring one of them.” you said. “and maybe it should be her.” you said under your breath so no one could hear you , natty did , pushing your shoulder playfully making you smile.

meanwhile upstairs sunghoon was already tuned out of the conversation. “i told you, we weren't here together , you insisted we share a room.” he said. “not to mention , you lied , ruining the best friendship i've had in my life.” mina rolled her eyes. “oh please , you haven't even asked her to be your girlfriend yet.” she said. “you're a punk.” he scoffed. “she knows that i like her.” it was her turn to scoff. “big deal , you think she cares about you hoon? no , she doesn't she has never cared about you.” sunghoon zipped up his suitcase. “she shed a few pounds and grew a new attitude and now that she has a bunch of guys over her , you think she cares about you?”

“stop talking about her like that , she isn't like that.” he said. “and i will ask her to be my girlfriend.” he said. “when , after she sleeps with jake or heeseung , i’ve been watching them , and it's only a matter of time , if it hasn't happened yet.” he knew her play now , and he wasn't gonna stand for it. “i told you , we were never gonna be a thing , i was just doing this for won , this trip is over and so is whatever this is.”

he left out of the room, leaving the girl seething with anger , his phone ringing. “you left your phone asshole!” she yelled , holding the phone in her hand. “shit.” she sat on the bed , looking down at the wallpaper , scoffing— it was you, it was always gonna be you , she could never win against you.

ever since highschool mina knew you were better than her at everything, academics, making friends; hell some might even say you outdid her looks wise too, of course you never believed that— that's why it was so easy, to bully you just enough to keep you in your place , but also keep you as a friend by love bombing you just enough so that she can stay close and get who she really wanted; sunghoon, you two were so close so she thought it would be easy.

it wasn't easy at all, sunghoon never showed her any attention, it all went to you. whenever she asked to hang out , he'd decline because he was hanging out with you , or you were studying or you just went through a bad break up , it was always you you you — she was sick of it , she was tired of hearing all about you.

it wasn't until freshman year of university; the year you confessed to her you lost your virginity to sunghoon, to her sunghoon , that she finally decided to do something. she knew you wouldn't go to the party that night, all she had to do was tell a good enough lie to the boy , one that would make him turn to alcohol , one like you telling her that the times you slept together meant nothing to you , that it was only pity sex — it was so easy, getting him drunk , taking him to his room , he practically threw himself at her. .

the phone call was totally unplanned though ; you called her , she didn't know why, she didn't care , all she needed was for you to hear her telling him how she'd never do what you did to him , and how she'd always be here for him; making sure the phone didn't pick him up basically crying in her arms about how heartbroken he was , only picking up him saying how it didn't mean anything to him.

pulling the fake tears when you approached them the next morning , slapping both of them across the face before walking away — she sighed a relief that you didn't tell him about the bullying she did over the years , you still in the end protected the feelings of everyone around you.

she thought she had you away from him for good; but turns out she never had him in the first place , this damn wallpaper only proving that. “i hate you yang yn.” she seethed , squeezing the phone in her hand; then a notification popped up on the screen. ‘mel8dy has posted’

who the hell was that? mel8dy? mina was curious , swiping his phone. the password being your birthday; clicking the notification, being taken to a camgirl app , scoffing. “of course.” she said , clicking off the app , clicking the messages app , clicking your name.

“huh?” she sat up , reading through your messages. “mel8dy.” she read the messages— you were mel8dy, she couldn't stop the smirk forming on her face , she wasn't gonna ever get in between you two , but she could ruin you in another way , your relationship with another person; your brother.

something didn't feel right; the last day of the trip was going well, everyone just enjoying everyone's company, the boys planning a barbecue for dinner , it all seemed fine — but it just didn't feel right. “you okay?” sunghoon asked. you nodded , smiling. “just a little tired that's all.”

“okay everyone it's time to eat.” heeseung called out , jay finishing cooking the meat on the grill , bringing it into the cabin. “enjoy, i froze my ass off out there making it.” he said , sitting down. “thank you for freezing your cute little ass then.” he rolled his eyes. “yah , you have your own.” sunoo scolded , your cheeks flushed red. “no i don't.” you turned to sunghoon. “at least not yet.” you said taking a bite of the side dishes.

mina watched this , how was your brother so unaware of everything; he was too busy flirting with your friend. “all you guys seem so close.” mina spoke up , it was quiet. “well we've all been friends since sophomore year of highschool.” jay said. “and we met late in freshman year after seeing yn going through a hard time.” natty said. “luckily she's better now.” yeojin said. “yeah that's good isn't it?” mina said. “yeah.”

“yn you really have changed haven't you?” mina said. “mina.” sunghoon warned. “i mean i guess.” you shrugged. “you're so confident now , i remember you were so scared to even look at boys.” she laughed. “you used to only stick to me.”

“well when you'd always shoot me down and say i wasn't pretty enough to have boys to like me , or too awkward to make new friends” no one was moving , feeling the tension rising. “she wouldn't say that.” jungwon said. “would you mina?” he was met with silence. “why would you say something like that , yn is your friend.” he said , now looking at the girl with disgust. “finally.” sunoo said. “you all see her as the bully she was and still is.”

“bully?” sunghoon said, turning to you. “you never said she bullied you.” he said , you gulped. “that's because she didn't want you guys to look at mina different.” jake said. “you knew?” jungwon said. “and you never said anything , sunoo you let me invite her , set her up with my friend.” you quickly spoke up. “i didn't want them to tell you , i was embarrassed.” you looked at her with disgust. “embarrassed i let it go on this long.”

“why didn't you tell me?” sunghoon said. “we weren't talking at the time.” you spoke in a low tone. “yeah but we were in highschool , you could've told me.” he said , you nodded. “im sorry.”

“noona im so sorry.” jungwon said. “i should've been paying more attention.” you shook your head. “highschool is highschool , im doing much better now.” you said. “you really should be paying more attention jungwon.” she said, sunghoon stood up. “let's go.” he said to the girl. “what are you talking about?” he said, the girl smirked. “you really don't see it , all these years and you don't see it.” sunghoon grabbed her wrist, but she snatched it away. “see what?”

“that your best friend is in love with your sister.” it was your turn to stand up. “shut up , shut the fuck up now.” sunghoon grabbed your arm. “calm down.” jungwon now looking at you both. “she's not lying is she?” he asked , both of you were silent. “won- can't believe you haven't seen it , the stares , the wallpaper on his phone.” it was so quiet , no one could do anything but watch it all play out — but no one could guess what came out of her mouth next. “he lost his virginity to her , he even watches her streams and videos for gods sake.”

your heart dropped hearing those words. “mina.” jake said. “you went too far.” he said. “streams and videos what is she-” jungwon stopped. “won- mel8dy.” he said. “that's you?” he said. “oh sissy didn't tell you that.” steam was pouring out of your ears. “yn?”

you didn't know what to say , everyone's eyes widened. “won its not what you think.” he scoffed. “what do you mean you're a cam girl.” he said. “won its not that big of a deal.” sunghoon said. “yeah of course you'd say that , you watch them.” he stopped turning to jake. “you filmed with with her.”

“oh i didn't even know that , what i tell you sunghoon , it was bound to happen.” she scoffed, smirking at the chaos she created. “she was doing this , and you all knew.” he said. “well she is an adult.” yeojin said. “what could you have done?”

“i asked you all for one thing , one thing and that's to leave my sister alone , and you couldn't even do that.” he said. “I'm an adult won , what gives you the right to dictate who i date , do i dictate who you date?” you pointed to yoon. “that's different , im not also a camboy who your friends get off to.” he said. “jungwon that's enough.” jay said. “she's still your older sister.”

“yeah right now i wish she wasn't.” he stood up. “just leave me alone.” he walked away from the table. “won- especially you two.” he looked at both you and sunghoon. “i have nothing to say to any of you.” and with that he went upstairs. “you okay?” sunghoon asked , but you didn't say anything , running up the steps to your room.

“everyone go pack , need to get out of here tomorrow morning asap.” jay said , awkward tension now filling the room. “now.” sunghoon turned to mina. “get up , now.” he said. “go get your things , we're leaving now.” he said. “it's dark im not- shut the fuck up for once , and go get your things , we’re leaving now.”

“listen to him , cause if you listen closely to the mess you created upstairs , jay and julie are doing very little to hold back those girls from coming down here.” heeseung said. “I'm not scared of them.” mina said. “yeah well you should be.” he said , walking up the steps. “go.” sunghoon said. “fine.” she stomped up the steps , past heeseung who was confused as hell. “how the hell did i miss that , sunghoon liking yn , I saw that , anyone did ,but yn being mel8dy” heeseung said to himself , shaking his head.

“damn i really gotta pay attention more.”

「 previous - nexte 」

「 TAGLIST. 」 @soobieboo @sakiimeo @i03jae @byulbbini @yoontonyy @yaorzu-blog @niniissus @xcosmi @dinonuguaegi @who-tf-soddhi @stqrrgirle @insommni4 @sophiq@navikki11 @usahanami @heelovesmeknot @txpxwxk @nikiswifiee @jae-no @jiiyen @tasnemluvs @kkamismom12 @17ericas @luvvvash @soobinbunnie5 @sleepyvic @dollechan @neozon3nha @firstclassjaylee @suhwife @arunabrak @ddeonuu4me @tkooooop

authors note. don’t be too mad at jungwon yall

#enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen social au #enhypen social media au #enhypen fic #park sunghoon smau #park sunghoon social media au #park sunghoon fic #park sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon smau #sunghoon social media au #sunghoon x female reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader

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maevebabyy · 3 months ago

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i would like manon gf thoughts next please ☝️☝️

MANON AS UR GF

a/n - i can’t believe it took me so long to write for manon…..

gf! manon who’s love language is words of affirmation. she never fails to shower you with sweet compliments and messages, always reminding you how perfect you are.

gf! manon who leaves you little notes in your bag or on the bathroom mirror because she has an early schedule, telling you how much she loves you and how much she hates that she can’t stay longer.

gf! manon who takes time to celebrate little wins, whether its acing a test or finishing a project, always cheering you on and making you feel special.

gf! manon who enjoys late-night drives, blasting your favourite playlists while being the best passenger princess there is.

“and finally you put me first!” manon sings out excitedly, her head bobbing along to beyoncé, her left hand intertwined with yours as you kept one hand on the wheel. “baby, it’s you!” she turns to look at you, her eyes sparkling, belting her heart out to the chorus, “you’re the one i love! you’re the one i need!”

gf! manon who appreciates the small things, like holding your hand during walks or stealing quick kisses when no one is looking.

gf! manon who wants to being you back to switzerland so bad with her because she loves enjoying the outdoors with you.

“just think about it,” she says softly, a smile tugging at her lips. “the mountains back in switzerland are so pretty. plus, think of all the cute cows!”

gf! manon who enjoys planning surprise dates, whether its a cozy night in playing board games or a trip to a local music café.

gf! manon who has an album dedicated specifically for the both of you saved in her photo gallery. often switching out her lockscreen wallpaper to a photo within the album to keep those memories close.

gf! manon who has a knack for making you laugh, whether it’s her goofy impressions or stupid dad jokes, always knowing how to brighten up your day.

“you know i’m basically a comedian, right?” she’ll tease, grinning.

gf! manon who loves when you play with her hair while you relax together, all cuddled up on her bed.

gf! manon who enjoys reflecting on your relationship. thinking fondly of how far you two have come and how grateful she is for every moment you two spend together.

#manon bannerman x reader #katseye x reader #manon bannerman #katseye #maevebabyy

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killsaki · 10 months ago

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aspirations ☆ your boss doesn’t understand why you let unimportant things hold you back when you can do better.

prohero!bakugou katsuki x f!sidekick!reader

3.8k words | old commission <3 | minors dni

cw / tw : cheating (not on reader), toxic relationship dynamics (not w/ bkg), fingering, blackmail, power dynamics.

this is… awkward.

bakugou katsuki feels awkward.

even in his pro-hero status, even with his usual lack of care for others and their affairs, standing at the door of his office, hearing you cry just outside of it... it’s the first time in a long time that he’s been made so… uncomfortable.

you’d come halfway across the country to work as a sidekick at the agency he ran with his old classmate, you were a promising upcoming hero who would surely do numbers once you got the right exposure and the right training. that’s the reason you picked up and moved so damn far from your hometown, from your life, from your boyfriend. at least that’s what you’ve babbled on about to bakugou while the two of you were on patrols.

you were under the impression you’d be working under deku at first and when you’d found out you were going to be working alongside dynamight you’d nearly pissed yourself and gone home, you admitted while slapping his shoulder with a laugh. something which you instantly apologized for and smoothed a hand over where you’d hit as if you’d caused the tank of a man any harm and needed to soothe the pain. you’d admit that he was far from the personality he portrayed for the media and that you’d come to enjoy being around him.

that’s why this was so weird for him. you were always so positive, a clumsy sort of happy. you were always shining, continuing conversations with him even as he shrugged you off, always laughing and tossing some kind of witty remark after he’d tell you to shut up. you were annoying at some point, but you’d pulled your weight during missions and you were a shoulder for him to lean on when he got injuries too severe to keep himself upright. you made the halls of the agency a friendlier place than they’d ever been, even with the kind and smiling hero working just on the other side of the building.

so, who could make someone like you weep like a child?

“you know i get paid in a few days, i can send it back to you.” you speak through a shaky breath and bakugou can’t help but lean closer to the thin wood that separates the two of you. “it’s not like that!” you hiccup, “you’re the one who asked if you could keep my car until i can help you get yours fixed.” the white in front of him blurs as he sorts through his thoughts, who could you possibly be having to explain yourself to? “toru, please. i just want to go to sleep, today was hard enough already.” the boyfriend. “so you really won’t pay for my uber because you’re mad about a picture of me and my boss? a picture of us doing our–”

bakugou doesn’t know why he does it, why he swings the door open and stares at you with such an annoyed expression. but he’s already doing it before he realizes and he regrets it when you jump, cutting yourself short.

“sorry,” you stare at him for a moment, taking in short breaths before you quickly wipe your face, and turn away from him. sniffling as the voice over the other end starts to become intelligible to the hero. “i just wanna get home, i’m just.. i’m sorry.”

there’s a short reply given and then, silence. it takes you a minute, and bakugou stands there waiting the entire time before you pull your phone away from your ear. the screen displaying your wallpaper, signaling that the other person had ended the call.

“i didn’t know you were still here.” you look up at one of the only fluorescent lights left on, blinking away the remnants of water in your eyes.

he sighs, checking the time on his watch before looking back up at you who has yet to spare him another glance. the trains had stopped running long ago, he didn’t need to check the time to tell him that. no, he was just checking to see how fucked up your boyfriend had to be to leave you walking on the streets at the hour, or in the hands of a stranger to get home. and it’s not that you weren’t capable on your own, more so that the guy didn’t understand how much danger it’d be if someone picked up on that pattern and took advantage of you being so tired from a full day's work. he wonders if even you have thought about that. or if that’s what you were thinking about now, as you stand in silence in a way that he’s never witnessed you do before

“i can give you a ride.” he offers and your eyes fall shut, a deep breath making your chest puff slightly and the blonde can’t help but pick up on your relief.

“i’d appreciate that.”

it’s a long, awkward walk out of the agency’s building to where he’s parked his car nearly a block away. the wind is blowing and he couldn’t imagine having to walk home himself like this.

“why don’t you park at the agency’s lot?” you ask arms wrapped around yourself. your voice is still soft but he doesn’t comment on it.

“safer for me not to, i change parking spots every few weeks.” he shrugs.

“you sure do think about everything, don't you, dynamight?” you tease, and it’s like you’re recovering bits of yourself that he can recognize.

“guess so.” he shrugs instead of lecturing you about how you should do the same, another thought too busy working it’s way from his mind to his mouth. “so why are you paying to fix his car while he uses yours?” bakugou lets his thoughts fall off his tongue, and answers your wandering mind that he did overhear most of your conversation.

“i have the job that pays more.” you reach for the seatbelt, buckling it before looking over the console and catching the red eyes that watch you so intently. “why? you looking for a cause to donate to?”

he sucks his teeth and buckles himself in, instructing you to put in your address on the car’s screen. you say something that makes yourself laugh as you lean in to do it, but it goes in one of his ears and out the other. it didn’t make any sense for you to be with someone who didn’t support you fully, someone who didn’t trust you. sure bakugou didn’t know all the details of your relationship– maybe you’d offered it up to him one day when he was too focused on how your eyes lit up to pay attention to what you'd been saying to him. but he wouldn’t know that now.

why would you of all people put up with that?

“are you gonna take me home or should i be fearing for my safety?” you raise your eyebrows to exaggerate a skeptical look, something that the blonde’s face twists up and makes you laugh. but the thought of your tears streaked face earlier appears back in his mind and he decides to let you off without a remark of his own.

“you could’ve just asked for a ride.” he glances over at you once he rolls up to a stop light and his heart feels like, just for a moment, that it stops. the sight of you under such soft red light, lips still swollen from the way you’d bitten them as you calmed yourself from crying, it does more to him than he’d like to admit. it takes everything in him to tear his gaze back to the road once the traffic signal turns green.

“if toru found out i was alone with you outside of work, let alone in your car,” you huff out an unamused laugh and it sounds awful in comparison to the sweet, hearty one he’s grown used to. “he would have a fit.”

“sounds like a real perfect guy.” bakugou doesn’t look at you as he follows the gps and turns the next corner, but he can feel your eyes on him. how they trace from the neons shining off his wristwatch up his toned arms that are littered in pink scars, can feel the heat of your stare when it’s guided to his chin where he wonders if you can see the stubble he didn’t care enough to shave away this morning.

“he’s alright.” you finally respond and it makes the prohero next to you feel ill. “my high school sweetheart and all… i’m sure it’s just a rough patch.”

“right.” it wasn’t his place to meddle into whatever you have going on in your personal life. but you were one to look at the brighter side of things, he wonders if that was something you’d always done or something you forced yourself into. “a rough patch.”

the time of arrival for the destination keeps creeping closer and bakugou doesn’t know why it’s bothering him so badly.

“thanks for the ride home, mr dynamight, sir.” you salute him and he just blinks, making you giggle as you gather your things from his car.

“bakugou,” he takes your cup from his console, despite the passing thought that the colors look nice against the ones of his car’s interior. “calling me bakugou outside the workplace is fine.”

you hesitate before taking the cup, and he hates the smile that creeps up on your face when you finally do grab it from him. why the hell would he say something unprofessional like that?

you skip off with a “goodnight, mr. bakugou, sir.” and head up to your front door without catching the sight of how dramatically he rolls his eyes, or the slight lift of his lips when he thinks about how your voice sounds addressing him as something other than his trademarked name.

and from there, it’s a slippery slope, he comes to realize.

one ride turns into twenty and soon enough he’s sitting in his office chair every night waiting for you to come to tell him that you’re ready to go home.

he finds the same kind of habit forms around your shared lunch break when the two of you are working in the office rather than on the field. you’d always walked past his office, but after a comment on one of those drives to your place, you’d started to welcome yourself into his office to compare lunches. and now he can't seem to bring himself to take a bite until you’ve wandered in and finished your bit.

like now, he sits with the same lunch he’s been eating since monday because he meal prepped this week, and he needs you to come in and tell him how boring it must be eating the same thing over and over. his fingertips pad impatiently at the wood of his desk, you're always in here by now.. now that he thinks about it, you hadn’t come to ask if his coffee was bitter after getting it for him this morning.

his phone buzzing in his slacks pulls him from the thought and throws him into another one.

deku: hey, i know you’re being kind to the sidekick and all… but didn’t you say her boyfriend would be mad if he knew you were giving her rides? you should think about how that would affect her working here.

the blonde sighs and he doesn’t even want to respond to the message. he’s already on edge after starving off his lunch, plus the fact you’re not being normal today, why is midoriya suddenly interested in how your professional relationship affects your at home life?

bakugou: would you rather some villain stalk her schedule and kidnap the sidekick that you requested to come out here?

he types out, and he’s right. he knows he’s right, he’s keeping you safe by picking you up and dropping you off from his car's undisclosed location.

deku: that’s not what i meant

bakugou taps the side of his phone as the three dots come and go as midoriya no doubt types up a paragraph that bakugou will most likely not read. where the hell are you?

bakugou: i’m just making sure she gets home alright.

he sends, hoping it’ll be enough to end the conversation. he locks his phone and places it on the table next to his meal, the meal that, after eyeing the door once more, he starts to dig into. it’s a few minutes before he gets the next notification, but when he reads it, he’s stuck staring at the chair you’re supposed to be in while he finishes eating.

deku: are you sure that’s all it is?

—

the two of you have grown close. that much is obvious to everyone who witnesses you by his side. he wouldn’t call himself fond of you, but he knows it’d be a lie to say he hates your presence, or that he doesn’t mind the absence of it. what he doesn’t understand is why the feeling in his chest is so intense when you walk in for your routine ride home with a blank expression and a single piece of paper in your hand.

“what is this?” he accepts it as you offer, and he’s half expecting it to be some stupid printed-out meme, or maybe even you showing off an email about a magazine cover that you landed. but instead, it’s formally addressed to him as–

“my letter of resignation.”

to say bakugou is confused is an understatement.

“i enjoyed working by your side. it was an experience i am sure will forever remain unmatched in my career.” your voice is shaking. the blonde tries to focus on the words in ink in front of him but nothing seems to register even as he eyes them over and over. “i’m very thankful for the time i was allowed to spend here, please don’t think otherwise. i’ll be sure to thank mr. deku as well for giving me the opportunity since–”

“why are you leaving?” his words come harsh, his face twisted up in a way he’s never shown to you and he’s not surprised when even then you don’t finch much.

“i need to go back home.” is all you let out, looking everywhere but at him.

he sits on it for a moment, that feeling in his chest starts to swell as he realizes the motives behind your actions today, behind this damn resignation letter.

“don’t you wanna be a big name pro?” he discard the paper on his desk as he pushes himself out of his chair to approach you. “so why are you throwing away your best chance— your only real chance at that for some small-town boyfriend?”

your eyes go wide as they tear from the back of his computer monitor to look into his own. the look of offense on your face is prominent but it’s nothing in comparison to the offense bakugou feels.

“it’s so much more than just my boyfriend.” you scoff, eyebrows knitting together. “what would you know?! you’re just my boss, you have no idea what my relationship is like.”

he’s never seen you mad before, you look… good.

“i know you’re sending money back home to cover his expenses. i know you’re paying for everything you have here all on your own.” he steps towards you with each sentence, making you take a step back in time with his strides. “i know he doesn’t check to see if you make it home safe, i know you’ve slept on the floor because you can’t afford furniture and food.”

you might not have told him much about your boyfriend, but he does know that he doesn’t deserve you... not the way that bakugou does.

“i never told you any of that..” your hand feels for the arm of the couch you’ve been backed into.

“you’re obvious.” he shrugs and it’s now that you start to breathe in short pants, your eyes dart to the door— unlocked but closed. then to his chest— he’s big, much bigger than you, stronger than you. “the last thing i would do is hurt you.” he tilts his head and your breathing clams, if only a little.

“sorry, i don’t know what i was thinking.” you whisper, you bring a hand to your forehead as you fall to sit on the arm of the couch. “today has just been... it’s been too much.”

bakugou nods. he hasn’t seen you cry since the first time he cared to listen to you speak. he doesn’t want to see that again, but he’d be bitter if the chance of it was taken away from him altogether.

“but you’ll stay.”

“i– i can’t stay. i’ll lose toru, i’ll lose the house,” you start gesturing around at nothing, voice sounding hollow. “i can’t stay bakugou.”

“if you go there’ll be nothing waiting for you.” he shrugs, grabbing your hands when they freeze. “i have toru’s information already. i’ll send him one of the many pictures you’d decided to take on my phone, while you were in my car.” the words taste awful off bakugou’s tongue but he doesn’t stop speaking them.

“why would you?” he can’t bring himself to look at your expression anymore.

“i wouldn’t even need to say anything then, i think that’d be enough.” you make a choked sound and he’s sure there are tears in your eyes. “so you’ll stay here.”

“that’s not fair.” your hands fall limp in his hold and he finally looks at you, the tears stream down your face and bakugou doesn’t even know what he’s doing anymore.

“your boyfriend’s in the way of your dream.” he swallows, convincing both you and himself but his sure tone never falters. “you can’t do anything for yourself if you go back to him. you can’t accomplish anything unless you’re here,” you blink away the tears, big eyes staring up at him. “unless you’re with me.”

you take in a shaky breath through trembling lips but nod all the same. you lean forward to rest against bakugou’s hard abdomen, your hands falling from his hold as you move. he has to stop himself from letting out a smug chuckle at the way you instantly come to him for comfort, to think you’d almost slipped through his hands.

“i’m tired of thinking about this.” you hiccup and throw yourself back on the cushions with one arm thrown over your eyes. parts of yourself that bakugou could recognize returning once again, only the way your head rolls to your shoulder and the look in your eyes as you peek up at him is something he’s never seen from you before. “help me?”

what you’d been alluding to is made clear when you reach out a hand for him, one that he doesn’t hesitate to take. he doesn’t even bother to speak any other word before he’s pressing his lips into your own, strong arms maneuvering you on the uncomfortable faux leather so quick it makes a loud noise as your skin rubs against it. he nearly moans at the way your arms wrap around his neck, the way they tangle into and tug at his hair while he slots himself between your legs.

the instant you press your hips up against him, he realizes how wrong he’s been. bakugou does favor you, he favors everything about you. he favors the way you talk shit to him, the way you laugh, the way you roll your eyes, how differently you act in interviews versus in his office, and he favors more than anything how you feel pressed up against him.

he all but tears your shirt off of you, and then your pants, both thrown to a grave somewhere on the rugged floor. his hands are rough as they glide down your body. his pads press in between your collarbones down between your breast, round your ribs, and down to squeeze at your hips.

“hurry up,” you whine, bringing your heel up to push at the waistband of his pants.

“always rushin’ me.” he sucks his teeth, but his voice is soft as he speaks.

he shivers at the sounds you make from his fingers gliding along the seat of your panties, barely damp, likely from your nerves— but bakugou can fix that. kisses are pressed to your neck, something much sweeter than anyone would expect, aside from of course you. you, the sweet little thing who saw past the hard shell everyone else encased him in, though he didn’t do much to prevent it.

his thumb finds its way to your clit, pressing circles on it through the fabric and your head falls back against the cushions, small gasps and whines following his every movement. it’s not until you start to push against him that he finally pulls your underwear to the side.

your sounds easily double in volume when he finally makes contact with your heat directly, a few more wet shapes rubbed into your clit before his fingers trail down to your entrance and you pull him by his hair from your neck, forcing him into a kiss while he presses a single thick digit into you. he rolls his wrist, hoping to stretch you a bit more before adding another, but your desperate hands wind into his shirt and he can’t help but give in.

he adds another and scissors them inside you, prodding to find that spot that had your lips parting, mind and body have given up on being able to kiss him as the pleasure takes over you. you’re dripping down his hand by the time you start babbling nonsense, and it’s all he can do to fuck his fingers into you despite the way you claw at his back, how your legs squeeze around him, and your pussy clamps down on him.

and when his name tumbles out somewhere along your nonsense as you cream down into his palm, for the first time in a long time, bakugou feels warm inside, something beyond the heat between his legs.

he lets you hold him while your breathing settles, even keeps his fingers inside you as you come back down to earth. he wants so bad to fuck you right now, to have you cry his name again and again as you make a mess on his cock this time... but he also wants to never let you move from under him, to keep himself wrapped around you at all times.

“i don’t wanna sleep on the floor anymore,” you whisper, and the blonde wonders how your boyfriend would feel if he knew that forcing you to turn in a resignation would lead to you being putty in his hands.

“come sleep at my place.”

you nod against him and, slowly, he helps to clean and dress you before you let him drag you off the couch.

“you’re always so helpful, baku’.” you rub your eyes as you lean against him, mindlessly following him to the car you’d been mistaken to get months ago.

but bakugou will later reiterate his intention were just truly just to help. just like when it came to officially end your relationship with toru, which would happen tonight after bakugou sends the loser a picture of you fast asleep in the same bed as pro hero dynamight—right where you should be.

#bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha x you #bnha x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #my hero x reader #my hero smut #boku no hero smut #boku no hero x reader

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chaos-in-deepspace · 3 months ago

Text

LADS Xavier: The Experiment | NSFW

I'd like to start this by saying...this fic ain't for everyone. It has pussy Xavier in it, something I adore because he'd be so cute with one. If you don't like that concept, don't read this. Never forget: If something doesn't appeal to you, then it wasn't made with you in mind. This is for all the homies that want to eat out their boyfriend Xavier.

❧ Pairings Xavier x Reader ❧ Warnings: Trans Xavier, Bottom Xavier, Top Reader, Cunnilingus, Face Sitting, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting ❧ Synopsis: It started with an article you had found online about how to make your partner...well squirt. Of course you had to try it out on your boyfriend...but first you needed to wait for him to wake up. ❧ Word Count: 7.2k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

The Experiment

You had been waiting all night for the perfect opportunity to annoy your beloved boyfriend. He had gotten home late from a mission and practically stumbled into bed. It took all you could to coax him to at least shower and clean up before he went to bed, but you had managed. Curled up all night beside him was always nice, but you just couldn't find it in you to fall asleep just yet..

He had practically wrapped his entire body around you all night, his head placed in the back of your neck as he let out gentle snores. It had been sweet for the most part, but the position allowed you to still play on your phone as his arms wrapped around your midsection. You had been doom scrolling the entire time and eventually went back to an article you had seen previously in the day.

You had to literally stop yourself from reading it over and over again, knowing that until Xavier woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. All you had managed to do was make yourself more and more restless. You think you had fallen asleep at around two in the morning, and by the time you woke up you were still being held by Xavier, his grip so tight around you that it would be impossible to go anywhere without prying yourself off of him.

Waiting for him to wake up was always a pain. The man could sleep for days if you let him, and normally you’d be happy to just leave him to his own devices after a long mission, but you were damn impatient. You literally had to work your way out of his arms and it took a solid ten minutes to adjust yourself to get away and crawl out from his grasp. You managed to replace your body with a pillow for him to hug onto, causing you to hold back noises from the adorable nature that was your boyfriend. You did make sure to snap a quick photo though and set it as your new lockscreen wallpaper. You left the room, intent on getting your morning started.

You had been in the kitchen making yourself some coffee when Xavier finally did manage to wake up. The smell of coffee was a gentle wake up call to him as he stumbled out of the room. He rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn as he looked at you with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning…” he murmured out as he settled right next to you.

“And a good morning to you,” you were already pouring him a cup of his favorite brew, “Sleep well?” you managed to ask, smiling as he let out yet another lazy yawn. His voice and eyes were still clouded in sleep as he took the drink from you, sipping on it as he stood in the kitchen.

“I need more…” he finally got out. Sometimes the coffee managed to do the trick in waking him up instantly, but other times it had the opposite effect. The two of you just relaxed in a comfortable silence as the morning rays of sunshine filtered into the kitchen, casting you both in the warm glow. Xavier was the first to finish his drink, sliding his cup into the sink and not bothering to rinse it out, probably deciding it was a problem for Xavier of the future.

You were about to ask him where he was going when he began stumbling out of the kitchen. You had full plans on making some breakfast after the coffee woke you up, but the gentle steps that Xavier took had left you in confusion. It wasn’t often he wouldn’t ask if you were planning on doing something for breakfast. He had barely spoken a handful of words before he left you alone.

Curiously you followed him and, in horror, watched as he crawled right back into bed. You knew that the mission he was on had been tiring, but to just go right back to bed after being awake for ten minutes to drink coffee was a new one even for him.

Still, you had no intention of just letting him fall back asleep. Breakfast could wait until later it seemed as you crawled onto the bed and hovered near him. Your mind went back to what you read and damn you needed to try it out before you lost steam. The image of it was plaguing both your dreams and waking hours and you didn’t want to wait a second more.

You crept closer to him and laid on your stomach until you were facing him. Xavier noticed immediately and slowly opened his eyes as he hadn’t managed to fall asleep just yet. Even in his tired daze he could tell something was on your mind and he was always a good and thoughtful boyfriend who would stay awake reluctantly if you asked him.

He still looked tired as he smiled at you, “Hey, what did you need?” it came out so soft that you almost wanted to cry. He was so adorable, so perfect, so sweet, so gentle…so everything. Xavier could see how you practically melted onto the mattress at just hearing his voice, giggling softly at your demeanor. He knew the effect he had on you, and he would probably never get enough.

Instead of giving him a proper reply you had found yourself leaning over to him, pressing gentle kisses along his cheeks, then trailing down to his jawline and what you could reach on his neck. Your arms were caging him onto the mattress as your lips left featherlike kisses all over his neck. It was nothing salacious, just a gentle moment. Xavier began carding his hands through your hair and humming while appreciating the feeling of you all over him. A small gasp left him as you pulled the top of his shirt to the side so you could nip at his neck, which was arguably one of the most sensitive areas on his body.

As you came back up you pressed a quick kiss to his lips and looked down at him with a smile, “Can I ask you a favor if you’re not too tired?” you said; you hadn’t realized it but you found yourself changing your tone to match his quiet one. He closed his eyes, and for a moment you feared he would just pass out right then and there.

“Anything you need,” he said, eyes still closed as you kissed him again. He smiled against you as he took the hand he originally had in your hair and moved it so he could cup your cheek gently. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, a silent request for more. You easily went with it as you kissed him properly, your lips meeting him in a lazy kiss which was more tongue than anything. He gently prodded his tongue into your mouth causing you to let you a small moan. He was always so good at this and for a moment you almost forgot what you needed from him.

You stayed like that for a while, kissing your boyfriend and listening to gentle noises that escaped the two of you. The wet smacking of your lips seemed to go well with the sounds of birds chirping out on the balcony of the apartment. You could feel his grin against you as you gently bit down on his lip, a small teasing gesture that he seemed to like as he shifted under you on the bed.

When he broke the kiss he looked up at you with those perfect doe eyes that seemed to shine anytime he looked at you. His cheeks were flushed a baby pink and his lips were now wet and kiss swollen. He looked as perfect as ever and you leaned into his touch when his hand caressed your cheek, “Is it one of those kinds of favors?” his voice took on a teasing lithe despite how drowsy he appeared to be.

“You could tell?” you hummed, closing your eyes and basking in the moment.

Xavier’s soft laugh filled your ears as he spoke up, “It’s not hard, all I have to do is look in your eyes and I can tell when you want something more,” it was a fact that he often used to his advantage, even in public situations. You couldn’t count the amount of times you had been at a work function and he took your hand and led you away from the others just to indulge in said look.

“I was wondering,” you went to cup the hand on your cheek and looked at him, “Would it be alright if I tried to make you squirt today?”

The way Xavier’s eyes seemed to widen made you chuckle. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he seemed to process your words, “You want me to…what?” He finally got out, his voice a little hoarser already at just the thought of what you wanted to do to him. He sounded so confused, but in the back of his mind he was thinking of all the things that might have caused you to ask this.

“I want to make you squirt,” you stated, “Want to see if I can do it. I read some articles online and saw a few videos…I think I can do it,” you knew he would give into your whims without much fighting, in the end this arrangement would technically be working more in his favor. He just had to lay there and let you play with him for a bit, and if he managed to squirt then that was awesome, if not at least he would get to cum a few times before going back to sleep.

It was easy to see the cogs in Xavier’s head turning as he thought over the proposal. It wasn’t uncommon for you to switch up who was on top and who bottomed. It was almost like a game at times, and sometimes you both would get to play each role in a single night. This experiment meant he would be bottoming, and at the moment it didn’t seem bad. He was still tired and a bit sore from his mission, so letting you do all the work seemed just fine in his eyes.

“How do you plan to do it?” was the only thing he could say in response. You seemed to light up then went to sit straighter on the bed. Xavier propped himself up on his forearms as he looked at you curiously, almost intrigued by how your entire demeanor shifted at him asking for the game plan. You seemed like a kid who just for a present they had been begging for with how you shuffled excitedly on the mattress, allowing it to dip under the new pressure.

“All my research says multiple orgasms in a short time frame. A few talk about g-spot stimulation as well so we’re gonna play around with it a bit,” you began and Xavier was already feeling himself getting wet at just you saying this. It was normal for you two to make one another cum several times in a single session, but the ‘short timeframe’ wasn’t something you two explored in your relationship just yet.

“Alright, and?” He coaxed and it was clear as day he wanted you to give him every explicit detail. You swore after getting him more into erotic literature he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hear everything you planned on doing to him. You could turn him on instantly just by whispering in his ear about how you were going to bend him over the couch and fuck him brainless.

You leaned over and licked your lips, “Well first off I want you to sit on my face,” you said, watching as his breath caught in his throat, “I think I can get you to cum at least twice just from that. Then I want you to lay back and let me play with that pretty pussy of yours, maybe get out a toy, or I can just fuck you on my fingers,” your eyes trailed down and you could see how he was squeezing his thighs together now. You had to stop yourself from reaching in your pocket to feel the bullet vibe you had put in the hoodie you had stolen from his wardrobe. You’d be using every device you had to see this man squirting all over the bed.

“If that’s what you want, I won’t say no…” he went to cover his mouth and look away, but your quick hand managed to grab his wrist. He let out a quick gasp as it was pinned next to his head, watching as you hovered over him with a semi-serious expression.

“I do have one condition though,” you said and he looked at you, his lip almost pouting. If he thought he could get away with just giving you a pleading look…well normally he was right. In this situation though, you weren’t about to let him use that cute begging voice of his so he could get out of any ‘condition’ that didn’t seem favorable for him.

“What is it…?” his voice was a breathy whisper as he looked at you with big blue eyes, clearly wanting you to start whatever it is you planned for him. He was already squirming underneath you, and if you didn’t start touching him soon he would probably lose it.

“I don’t want you to hide those pretty noises of yours,” you said, your voice dropping a little bit into a seductive timber, “I want you to be loud enough that we’re getting noise complaints later on, okay?”

His entire face was flushed, but he did manage to nod. You smirked at him and decided that would be enough. There would be plenty of time to have him crying out your name, for now you needed to work on getting him undressed. He had far too many clothes on for your liking and you wanted to press your hands against that smooth skin of his, and feel every muscle tense under your careful touch.

You got up on the bed and wrestled around in your nightstand. You grabbed one of the many towels you kept on hand and unrolled it. Without needing to say anything Xavier adjusted himself to let you lay it down underneath him. While he was going to be sitting on your face for the first half, you’d no doubt be laying him down later. With how wet he got you knew if you didn’t do this then there would be a lot of clean up to do later. As soon as that was all settled you got into a new position so you were hovering over him.

Your hands went to the hem of his briefs, slowly pulling them down and a groan escaped you as you saw the small string of slick that snapped as you pulled them off. He was always so easy to get wet especially when you were taking charge. He was nice and slick for you, and all you had done was kiss him and tell him how you wanted to fuck him.

“So fucking wet already, huh baby boy?” you asked as you tapped his hips so he’d lift them enough and let you glide the offending article of clothing elsewhere. Your hands trailed up to the shirt he had put on before bed. It was a white turtleneck with sleeves going halfway to his palms. It was a gift you had gotten him a few weeks back since it had a little star design on the front of it. It was a little baggy like most of his clothing, and he more often than not opted to wear it to bed instead of outside.

Instead of taking it off you just hiked it up to expose his chest. You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned in, pressing gentle kisses on his chest and blowing cool air onto one of his nipples. You chuckled at hearing the gasp that left him as you pressed a kiss to it before taking it into your mouth. Xavier’s chest was always so damn sensitive it had him moaning in a matter of minutes.

Your hand came up to pinch his other nipple, and he was already trying to grind his hips up into you. You chuckled as you swirl your tongue around him, listening to his cute whimpers as his hand went into your hair, giving it a gentle tug. You let out a groan from the pressure of his hand and he tugged again just to hear more from you.

You popped off of it and ran a finger over the pretty light brown nipple, your thumb pressing down on the now hardened bud. For a brief moment you remembered a trend of people getting their partner’s tip color painted on their nails and you wondered if he’d notice if you got your colored the same tone as his nipples…a thought for another time.

Xavier tried using the grip on your hair to pull back against this chest, but you forced yourself to stay in place, “Xay Xay, I need you to behave,” he let out a whine as he released his grasp of your hair and allowed you to go back to work, doing whatever you wanted to him.

Xavier let out a shuddering moan as he watched you give his other nipple the same treatment, working it until it was a nice, hardened bud under the tip of your tongue. Once you let off you looked at his now glistening chest with a satisfied smirk. His chest heaved with labored breaths as he shuffled under your intense gaze, not knowing where to go or look in the moment.

Your hands were now free to trail over his legs and you looked down at the soft thigh highs he had put on, “By the way, I absolutely adore these,” you said while grabbing the material and pulling on it so you could watch it snap back onto him. The white socks were soft and fuzzy and you knew for a fact the bottoms had little paw prints on them. It had been another gift for your precious boy, anytime you went out and saw something that reminded you of him you had to snag it and see him wearing it.

“You were the one who insisted I wore them last night for bed,” his voice already sounded wrecked and you hadn’t even properly gotten started. His legs shifted as he tried getting them away from your grasp, but your hands were quicker as you held onto his soft, sock clag thighs.

You then opted to lay your head on the soft thigh highs and smiled up at him, “Well ya, I had this planned since yesterday afternoon. I wanted to make sure my ear muffs would be nice and warm…plus I heard wearing socks can make orgasms more intense,”

He bit his lip at the statement, adjusting his legs once more as he tried to get more comfortable on the bed. You leaned into his upper thigh that wasn’t covered by the sock and pressed a kiss on it, and then in a brief moment of need you sucked a harsh mark right onto his thigh. It had him moaning, his thighs trying to close at the sensation, but your hand kept them in place.

You trailed your hand between his legs, feeling his slick pussy on your finger tips. It glided along the lips of it until you found his clit and applied enough pressure that it had him rolling his hips into your touch with a little whine. The small keen he let out along with his attempt at pushing himself closer only solidified how adorable and needy he could be in moments like these. He became so submissive the moment you took on an authoritative tone with him.

“Awe, did you want more?” you asked as you pressed a kiss over the mark you had left on his thigh. He let out another whimper at your comment and you chuckled, “Words, sweetheart, gotta use your words,” the gentle reminder would probably be lost later on. He always stopped talking the moment things started to feel good, so you were used to coaxing him into speaking now. The few times you had placed a gag over his mouth were his saving graces from having to speak.

“Yes, please, more,” he managed to get out, but the way your finger was making lazy circles on his clit wasn’t helping his train of thought. He was always hyper sensitive whenever you touched him, and today was no different with how his eyes were already rolling back from your miniscule touches.

“Well I can’t say no to that,” you said as you took your hand away. You licked at the slick coating your finger and groaned at the flavor. How the man always managed to taste so sweet was beyond you. If there was one thing you would never get tired of, it was the taste of his cunt. There was always something just so unique about it, almost like it was out of this world. You could remain buried between his thighs forever if he let you just so you could enjoy the sweet ambrosia that was him.

Xavier looked almost offended when you had taken your hand away, but the look soon changed as he watched you gather up some pillows for neck support then laid down on your back. You motioned for him with grabby hands which caused him to let out a chuckle. “Come on, hurry up, I want you in my mouth like right now,” you whined. The switch in your demeanor was amusing as he looked at you waiting patiently for him to sit himself over your face.

Xavier got up onto his knees and adjusted himself until he was hovering over your head. You were already grabbing his thighs and playing with the taut flesh, giving him a playful squeeze in the process. “Is this alright?” he said as he slowly lowered himself.

His cunt was right in your face, but wasn’t making contact just yet as he hovered above you. You looked up at him expectantly and realized he was waiting for a response, “This is more than okay. Now drop down, and if you need to hold onto something I got us a nice headboard for a reason,” you gave his thighs a playful pinch which had him gasping.

He slowly lowered himself onto you and finally you could taste him. There was only one problem, “Xavier,” the fact that you could speak should’ve been his warning. He let out a hum and looked down at you, holding up the shirt that was threatening to slide down his body, “I said,” you grabbed his thighs tighter, “to sit,” you had dragged him down until his entire body weight was resting on you.

The moment he was finally on you, your mouth had gone to work. You didn’t waste any time as your tongue began laving at his sopping cunt, slurping up the juices that were all but dripping down your chin already. Your hands now grabbing his ass in a bruising grip as you forced him to grind on you, your tongue hitting his clit as your tongue went into his hole. You let out a satisfied groan as his weight rested over you just right, the softness of his socks encompassing your ears.

Xavier’s head was already spinning at this, feeling your wet tongue pressing against his insides. At times you wished it was longer so you could hit his g-spot, but even without it you could feel how much he was enjoying himself. His hips were already moving to grind on your face and you let out another groan of your own at how easy the glide was. His cunt felt velvety soft as your tongue continued working, teasing the outer areas until you positioned yourself at his clit.

The whimpers and moans leaving him seemed to almost bounce off the walls of the room, along with the sloppy noises as you lapped at his pussy. Your mouth formed a sucking around his clit and you could hear the rustling of the headboard as he gripped tightly onto it. You had to stop yourself from chuckling at his response as he whimpered as your mouth worked on his clit just the way he liked it.

You looked up and saw he had his eyes closed, mouth opened as he panted. A slight sheen of sweat was already forming on his forehead as he continued trying to grind himself onto your face. Your tongue lazily played with his clit and you watched the scrunch of his eyebrows as he concentrated on the sensations. His face was scarlet at this point and you could almost see the hot puffs of air escaping his lips while he panted. He bit down on his lower lip in an attempt to stay quiet, something you had explicitly told him not to do.

In response you slapped his ass harshly, making his eyes open in surprise while he got locked into eye contact with your own. Without even saying anything he knew what you wanted as he let out another pretty, breathy moan. The sounds he made gradually increased in pitch after that as he stopped holding them back.

You went back to pressing your tongue inside of him, allowing his hips to just grind and use your face for his own pleasure. His thighs were already shaking around your head as he brought him closer and closer to the edge with every stroke of your wet muscle inside of him. He was so pretty like this, becoming an absolute wreck in a matter of minutes all because of your mouth. You hadn’t even began finger fucking him yet and he was close to the edge.

Seeing Xavier cum was always the prettiest thing, how his eyelashes fluttered and his mouth opened to let out a loud, needy whine. His thighs clenched down on your head like a vice and you could feel his pussy throbbed against your tongue. You shook your head, letting your tongue brush against his clit to help him ride out his high. His juices flowed freely out of him and into your mouth as you drank him in, enjoying everything he could give you.

His head dropped back down to look at you as he felt his high starting to ebb away. Your mouth didn’t let up in the slightest, still pressing into his pussy and using your nose to rub against him. It had him gasping and you could see how his knuckles turned white from the grip he currently had on the bed post above your head. His breathy moans started turning into almost pained whimpers as he realized he was being overstimulated, and he looked back down at you while trying to form a coherent sentence through it all.

“W-wait,” he managed to grit out, “I-I need hah-a mo-moment, mhm,” he tried begging, but you were currently too pussy drunk to care. The heady taste of him on your tongue was too much as you switched up to sucking on his clit again. You took one of your hands off his perfectly round ass and worked on a good angle to press into his tight cunt. The glide was all too easy with how soaked he was, your finger easily slipping between his folds and into the warmth of his cunt.

Another gasp escaped him as you began fingering his oversensitive pussy, and he realized exactly how you planned on making him squirt. You’d normally let him have a moment of respite after he came, but at the moment it appeared you wanted to make an absolute wreck out of him. You were able to slip a second finger inside of him and with practiced ease crooked them until you felt the different texture inside of him. His whining only spurred you on in your movements as you made sure to thrust your fingers and crook them right up into that delicate patch inside of him.

His hips jolted and he was back to riding you, albeit this time far more sloppily. Your good boy was always so quick to cum for you, and it seemed this time was no different. After having a first orgasm it was clear his second was creeping up fast on him. The way he was shaking, and how his thighs kept clenching around your head felt euphoric to even yourself. You swore you could cum untouched just by unraveling the man above you. His noises were so loud as he panted your name, trying to get your attention. Your eyes snapped up into his own to look at his perfectly flushed face. His eyes were barely able to hold your gaze as they threatened to close on their own.

“Please, please, hng p-please,” he cried out above you like a chant, taking one hand off the headboard and threading it into your hair. He was trying to tug you impossibly closer to him, your mouth alternating between sucking harshly on his clit and pressing your tongue in circles around the pert bud. All you could do was hum, sending vibrations straight to his clit as you continued abusing his g-spot with your fingers. His voice cracked as he tried speaking, but instead all that came out was a whine and something akin to babbling that you couldn’t make out the meaning for.

He let out a cry as he came a second time, entire body shuddering at the intensity. His hips riding your face to perfectly as you continued your ministrations, not deviating from what was clearly working on him. The feeling of his cunt tightening and pulsating around your fingers had you groaning into him as you lapped up his release. He was still reduced to just speaking in small babbles, words forming but not being able to finish as they were stopped by his moaning.

Your chin was absolutely covered in his slick at this moment, and it only had you licking your lips as his orgasm started to end, those pretty moans turning into whimpers from how your tongue lazily licked his release. You pressed a quick kiss to his clit before you started working him up and off your face. As much as you wanted him to keep grinding on you, you had other agendas to fulfill right now. You wanted to watch in 4k how his pussy squirted everywhere, and from this angle it just wouldn’t be the view you were hoping for.

Xavier got the memo despite how clouded his thoughts were at the moment, and began sitting up on his knees again. Before he could get comfortable you were grabbing him by the waist and flipping him onto his back, right over the towel you placed earlier. The bed creaked under the sudden shift and you watched as he bounced from the force of the maneuver as his eyes widened to look at you. It was often you manhandled him, but he always seemed to like it if the way his ears turned bright red was anything to go by.

He let out a gasp at the sudden shift which was followed by a needy moan as you began peppering his thighs with more sloppy kisses. You used your leverage to push his legs up and hooked them over your shoulders. You sat up looking at him as you took in the current position. He looked so enticing, the flush he had went down to his chest and he was panting as he looked down at you. He already was looking wrecked and you were curious how far you could push it. After you made him squirt, what was stopping you from grabbing the strap on and just drilling him into the mattress?

He was so cute you couldn’t help yourself as you turned to his unmarked thigh and bit down on it. He let out a squeal from the sudden pain, almost whining as you licked at the now clear bite mark on his thigh. You chuckled and smirked up at him, “You’re so damn cute like this, I had to leave a new mark on you babes,” you cooed, kissing the bite. Sometimes you hated how fast he could heal in just his sleep, the marks you lovingly put on him always going away within a day or two. On the other hand, it gave you excuses to have him like this so you could refresh all your love bites.

“You always say that…” he panted out, wanting to close his thighs, but with their current position he knew he wasn’t going to be going anytime soon. You still felt the muscles tensing up and you ran your hand over the sock he wore, tempted to rip it off so you could feel his skin around your shoulders.

“That’s because,” you said as your hand trailed over his wet pussy, “It’s always true,” he rolled his hips into your hand at the sensation. Despite his sensitivity, it was clear he was wanting more with how he looked at you hungrily.

With that statement you were diving back between his legs, lapping up his juices as your fingers played with his clit this time. Your tongue pressing into his heat as you let out a mewl of satisfaction. He was responsive to your touch, his legs locking behind you and you felt every twitch he made as he focused on not crushing your head between them.

You glanced up to see his hands thrown behind him, grasping the sheets underneath him as he closed his eyes again. He allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your mouth pressing against him, playing with every bit you could touch. His back was arching off the bed at this point as he let out cries, his head moving to the side as he tried to look at you through hazy eyes. His mouth opened wide so he wouldn’t try to hide those noises again, his bruised lips glistening and you think you could see a little bit of drool.

You groaned against him, shaking your head to throw him off. It seemed to work as he let out a gasp and you chuckled against his cunt. You moved back to sucking on his clit after then while, working on pushing three fingers and pumping them into his heat. He was squirming underneath you, not knowing if he wanted to get away, or let you continue whatever the hell it was you were doing. All he knew was it was working as he felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach that was different from his normal orgasms.

“W-wait,” Xavier tried warning you, squirming and throwing one leg up as he twitched from the stimulation, looking at you with panicked eyes, “F-feels different, please,” he groaned out, rolling his hips into you despite his protests. There was a small panic in his voice as he almost squealed at realizing you weren’t about to stop now that you had gotten this far. Instead of letting it out he bit his lip again to suppress it, which ended up in a whine coming from the back of his throat that you had never heard before.

That was a good sign for you as you groaned into him. You wanted to keep your mouth on him, keep pressing your tongue against his cute clit to see how far you could take this, but you also wanted to see. Have a front row seat when he squirts for the first time. You were certain he never had judging by how surprised he had been, and you were going to see it first hand. You wanted him to be a shaking, whimpering mess by the end of all of this, not knowing up from down with how fucked out he was.

You quickly replaced your mouth with your other hand and began working him perfectly, rubbing his clit in circular motions like you knew he liked. Your fingers began brushing against his g-spot again and he was shaking as his legs fell off your shoulders. They were crooked at the knees, his feet planted on the mattress as he tried grounding himself. His knuckles had long turned white again from his grip on the sheets above his head. He was trying to squirm away from the feeling, and you began making soothing noises and talking to him.

“Come on Xavie, just go with it, bunny,” you said gently, trying to get him to just let go with the feeling. From your research you knew it felt different from another orgasm, maybe more intense, and if he didn’t relax he might ruin his own orgasm by being stubborn.

He whimpered out your name as he stared up at the ceiling. It was clear he was attempting to relax and let go, but it wasn’t happening easily. He tried taking deep breaths, but they kept getting interrupted with small whimpers from the back of his throat. Then it seemed it was finally happening as he let out a wail, his ass lifting up a little off the bed. A string of little curses flowed out of his mouth, something he seldom ever did around you. Your eyes widened the moment you realized he was finally coming, the first sign was how he once again clenched on your fingers as you tried crooking them into his g-spot.

You watched as liquid literally burst from him, coating your wrist and arm in the fluid, as well as the towel that was below him. You even felt a little hitting your face from how close you were as you watched in fascination. You had never seen someone squirt in real life, and the moment was almost magical. It was only heightened by the noises Xavier was letting out as he rolled his hips, making a mess out of you and the towel.

Your eyes were wide like saucers as you watched the entrance to his pretty pussy as it glowed. You don’t recall a time where he ever came and it glowed like this. It was a bright yellow tone, painting him gold as he came, his hips rutting into the hand as you pressed down on his clit. It wasn’t hard to work him through his orgasm as he was crying out your name like it was the last thing he’d ever get to say in his life.

Watching him paint the towel and your face in his own release was probably going to be the highlight of your entire life. Not to mention how his evol literally illuminated the entire scene for you. It felt like it was out of some wacky ass fantasy book and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You took your fingers out of his cunt at the last minute just to admire what was essentially a pornographic light show. It was only when Xavier was flinching away from your touch did you finally stop your ministrations.

You watched as Xavier's body seemed to go slack, falling onto the bed as his legs weakly slid down to your sides. You popped your head up and gave him probably the dopiest grin you could muster. You could feel your chin dripping and you grabbed the clean corner of the towel to quickly wipe away the mess on it.. Even then your face still glistened a bit, but you didn’t care. It was the face of a winner, you had succeeded in your little experiment and made your adorable boyfriend squirt. Nothing in life could top this moment.

You adjusted yourself until both of your hands were at his side and you were leaning over his face, “Xavie…your pussy just glowed,” you were certain he had been too fucked out to even notice it, but like hell you weren’t going to tell him about the miracle he just produced between his slick folds. You had been absolutely mesmerized by it. Hell just about everything this man did seemed to captivate your attention, and this moment was no different. He was just too damn perfect for words to even begin describing it.

Xavier took a moment as he looked at you with a dazed expression. For the second time that morning you could see the cogs trying to turn in his head as he processed your words, “I’m sorry…what?” his voice came out as a croak from all the moaning he had been doing. His lip justed out in a small pout that caused you to laugh at the sight of him and placed a hand over his hip, just stroking the skin there lovingly.

“When you squirted all over my face, sweetheart, your cunt literally lit up from your evol,” you pointed out and now he was finally understanding your words. His eyes widening a fraction as he tried to look away from you. That wouldn’t do as you clicked your tongue and repositioned yourself so you could grab his chin and force his face to look at you.

He was able to see the shine in your eyes from how much you enjoyed it, which gave him a little more confidence as he tried speaking up, “Is that…” he finally looked at you with almost pleading eyes, “Weird?” The last part was said in a whisper as he hoped you weren’t judging him. You cooed at how adorable he managed to be and you leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek and nuzzled into the side of his neck.

He went to protest as your hair tickled him, but you were speaking before he could, “Actually it was the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” you pointed out and he let out a whine under his breath. He opened his mouth once again, but then your thoughts decided to blurt out something else, “I want to see it again,” your hands were now on his hips as you squeezed him.

His face quickly snapped over to where you were, looking down at your face as you pressed another quick kiss to his neck, “C-can’t I breathe for a moment?” he protested in a whiny voice and you weren’t having any of that. He had already done it once tonight, so why couldn’t he do it again?

“Um no,” you said and reached into your pocket where the bullet vibe was, “No you can’t,” Xavier’s mouth felt dry at seeing the vibrator. Whenever you pulled that out it only meant one thing…you were going to make him cum until he couldn’t even form coherent words anymore. The morning had only just started, and you were intent on finding every way you could ruin your adorable, whiny boyfriend.

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