#these notes have gotten out of my control i was just here to make one funny comment
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hello i love you how are you and your broken pelvis doing?
hope that you heal quickly 💕
hello thankyou, i wouldn't say we're best friends but we are back on speaking terms. come to a truce. we're discussing terms and conditions.
#my left knee however#the leg i am allowed to stand on#did put on a protest today so that was extremely fun#my pelvis actually is fine it's the rest of my body that is trading off having a go#which actually is my fault i am going through a period of fucking around with the drug doseages as per instructions#and i do not have the best stomach#anyway the pelvis is used to this kind of abuse#i literally spent probably a thousand dollars this year fixing my hip/lower back issue from six years ago lmfao#'you need to strengthen your hips' what if i just break one and lose all of my muscle#what if i practise my one leg chair stands but only on the left side#these notes have gotten out of my control i was just here to make one funny comment#anyway very thankful i fixed my back because that actually would have caused more pain#god works in mysterious ways#aka a very clear message to stop fucking around and quit your job#but also fix that first and have eight hundred dollars a week for your troubles
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So like another thing about the transgender mecha discourse is like... the mech can be a metaphor for empowerment and an extension of the customizable self, but specifically for transfemmes the metaphor also works in the other direction!
The mech is safe. And it is familiar, and you have gotten used to controlling it. You are told that your highest purpose is violence, but that's not true about you, though it might be true of the mech.
The mech is safe. It is many layers of cold steel and machinery between you and the world. When people see the mech, they see power and strength. But you will have to crawl out of it if you wish to be seen and known by your name, instead of your callsign*.
The mech is safe. It does not take courage to pilot - it takes courage to leave. Anonymous, stoic violence in a shell that is not your body vs the horrifying ordeal of crawling out of a numb pile of metal and hoping people will love the weird-looking girl who is a little unused to socializing. On account of all the mech-piloting.
Anyway if I was going to write transgender mecha fiction the robot would be the closet. War is hell, truth is life, get out of the fucking robot, girl, and live!
Other small things I would include in an anti-war transgender mecha story:
"Why did you stop being a mecha pilot? You were so good at it!"
Patriarchal military industrial complex discovers trans people are just better at using the weird neural mech piloting interface. This plays out as badly as you'd expect.
"cis" pilot who has an unusually high sync with the mecha and the veteran pilots who Definitely Know.
Nothing good ever happens as a result of mecha battles and the reader should start to feel anxious about which beloved character Isn't Going To Be The Same after this one.
This would of course be very difficult to pull off in a way that's like... as fundamentally entertaining as giant robot fights where the giant robot is a metaphor for personal agency and the power of the individual, where a very traumatized trans girl incinerates mecha hitler with a blue-and-pink laser beam she got from self-actualizing. I recognize that my version is harder to make and definitely not for everyone. But I think it should be made. Both should be made!
*historical note here about callsigns - in fiction people choose their own but in the military these are chosen for you by your unit - and if yours is cool it usually means that your unit thinks you're a dweeb. If you try to make people use a callsign you chose for yourself, there is no doubt at all about whether you are a dweeb. So for me a callsign is a terrible stand-in for a true name. Knowing this fact ruins movies, because every Cool Callsign Protagonist makes you think "Iceman? Oh, he definitely got caught masturbating in the walk-in freezer".
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Down Bad — Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Smut 18+)
Summary: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the comforts and pleasures of sex.
Notes: ahh!! @reidsbookclub thank you my absolute love for reading this ahead of time. your enthusiasm and support and love is so so so appreciated <3 and this is my piece for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge
Word Count: 6 K
Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not drunk), oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, (kinda) dom Spencer ( hopeful ending?), unprotected sex, some negative self body image (reader), finishing inside with birth control, breeding kink, possessive language, dirty talk/crude language (I know Spencer's probably a tab bit OOC but this is me trying here)
Down Bad
There was no way for my situation to turn crappier. My finger stood, haunted and frozen above my phone screen. The bathroom sink ran unattended as I attempted to defrost my heart. It had dropped to my stomach as my eyebrows shot up.
I still followed Lydia, my ex's younger sister on Instagram and Facebook. Her brother might have turned out to be a terrible communicator, but she was cool.
Just a couple of months ago, she was a student in Geology and the last time we spoke she was writing a paper on Ancient Rocks in communities that used aqueducts systems. What you could do with a Master's in Geology was beyond me and my office job. I'm sure she hears too many "you must live under a rock" joke from her dad. He was always cracking the most dad jokes that have ever dad-joked; I missed it. And Lori's South Chocolate Gravy Pie. I didn't even want to know how many sticks of butter it took.
Lydia had her arms thrown around a tall, leggy, blonde girl that looked like her name was Sarah or Hannah. The post was in black and white and Hannah/Sarah showed off her gorgeous ring.
lydia-nielson99 The best honorary sister ever <3!
When my ex and I dated, the idea of fine dining was a night out at a movie sharing a bucket of popcorn and an honest-to-God-attempt at moving hopping. We talked about marriage; he'd slip on fake rings made from grass blades braided together meticulously on my finger, kiss it, and promise me that he'd earn me something worthy of my finger.
The post had only been up for 43 minutes and already had gotten a hundred or so likes. I scrolled the comment section, ignoring the rushing tap, to read the comments from my friends, our couple friends. They must've liked Sarah/Hannah better, or at least liked her and Shane better together then Shane and me. I haven’t heard from them since the breakup.
Aren't most geologists analog? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and washed my hands, wishing that I could crawl under a rock, one of those ancient ones that Lydia studies.
I couldn't decide. I couldn't decide between a red that would give me a headache I could feel in my teeth or straight gasoline that would make my face, and heart, as equally numb.
I wanted something quick and something strong. I was so, so, so over Shane it wasn't even funny. But that didn't stop him from being the love of my life, to the loss of my life. I just wondered, as I roamed the supermarket with my metal carriage holding tequila, limes, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and frozen pizza bagels, if he told Hannah/Sarah the same things.
If he would sit across from her, now probably able to splurge on a dinner fancier than Taco Bell or Denny's, and hold her hands. Would he move her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger like he did on mine?
God, I cringed, dropping in a box of Double Stuffed Oreos, I let him, shit talk me under tables with promises of rings and cradles in the other breath.
I reached for the pint of strawberry as another text pinged. Internally I knew that I would soon face an onslaught of future wine moms just jumping at the chance to "check in with me" during "such a challenging and emotional time" for me. I ignored the message, but it pinged again.
Spencer: Penelope said that the new season of that show you like is on. We can watch it tonight. I think that Hotch is actually gonna let us out at a normal time.
Spencer, my roommate, always texted with formality and correct grammar. I actually think that it would be impossible for him to do anything, but use proper spelling and grammar.
Unlike certain geologists, Spencer is actually analog. When I was searching for a roommate after my break-up, our mutual friend Penelope put us in touch. And just mere months later we've formed a friendship that most days is closer to a partnership than it is to anything else. Friends were hard for me, and relationships even harder. Looking back, I think that allowed Shane to bulldoze through boundaries I didn't even know I should have.
Spencer, a certified genius and self-described technophobe, couldn't tell me the purpose of Instagram, let alone that my ex-boyfriend's sister posted a picture with her newest soon to be sister-in-law, Sarah/Hannah.
I dropped a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and looped around for an extra box of Kraft Mac and Cheese before replying back to Spencer.
Me: Worst. Day. Ever!!! Ice cream & carbs @ 7
I stared at the bottle of tequila, understanding that ever since my 31st birthday, me and excessive drinking due to external crises would result in bloating, headaches, backaches, anxiety, and an entire weekend of recovery. Maybe instead of several shots, but I already finished half of the bottle of red I bought as a bottom of the ninth decision.
"Tequila?" Spencer mused, dropping his bag on the table. "This must be like Defcon 4? And I should know, I work in national security."
I grunted, my fingers drumming against the table. The cheap speaker connected to my phone plays sad breakup music. I saw Spencer's wheels turn as he sat down with me at the table.
"Want boxed Mac & Cheese?" I asked, standing up to scoop some of the dinner into a plate for myself. I didn't seek it out often, but there was something familiar and comforting about Kraft Mac & Cheese. "I know it's got a lot of shitty stuff in it. But I'm actually going to lose my mind tonight."
My voice turned shrill and unsteady. And my eyes flooded with sharp, salty tears. Spencer stood and then backed away, his eyes and face melting in mutual pain. "What happened?"
"Shane's getting married."
"That explains the tequila."
I laughed. Spencer didn't offer any condolences as the seconds ticked and ticked. Instead he looked at me. He must've noticed the groceries. The Oreos, ice creams, and boxes of incredibly processed macaroni and cheese all screamed classic crisis for me. Being as smart as he is, Spencer could probably have told something about me within weeks of meeting me.
"Well, I already drank some of that red wine." I said. "The tequila doesn't sound like a good choice. But bad choices can be fun choices when you want to hide under a rock for the rest of your life."
Spencer still didn't offer anything, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. "No tequila."
“You’re no fun." I huffed, grabbing my bowl and heading to the living room. "You promised me new episodes of The Queen's Court."
Spencer still frowned, his arms crossed as his steaming bowl of processed cheese pasta sat to his side on the counter. "I didn't think that Shane still was someone you thought about."
I sighed.
“It’s understandable. He’s marrying the girl he started dating right after breaking-up with you.”
I didn't think about Shane, not that often though. But he still was my first love. The love I shared with Shane was something he stole from me. I had given him all that youth for free; now I was thirty-one. Don't get me wrong, thirty-one is young, I don't feel old. But it's this weird, almost off-putting subliminal feeling when all of my friends either smell like weed or little babies.
"I don't love him. I don't want to be with him."
Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. He had a couple pictures of himself when he was younger. Him with his mom at one of his many post-graduate celebrations. One with his co-workers at a bar. He changed a lot; in pictures of the past he was thin and lanky. But now, when he would wear pants or cardigans or button downs with the sleeves rolled up, I found it difficult to not stare in appreciation. My sex life with Shane was good, consistent, and effective. While it might sound clinical to some, I think we both enjoyed knowing that we both knew how to, simply, get the job done for each other. I must be missing sex an awful lot to be getting flushed at the sight of Spencer’s arms.
Two years older than me, Spencer had had a life harder than most people. Penelope explained to me that he was finding it hard to live alone after he was falsely incarcerated. And working the hours he did at the BAU, he found it hard to find someone okay with someone coming home all hours of the night.
Like Spencer, I hated living alone. So together, we built a little home as roommates, as friends, and somewhere along the lines, as partners. And over the last couple of months, Spencer had never brought a date home. I had one hook up about two weeks after we moved in together. It was fine, but not enough to tempt back onto the horrid, vapid, devoid of anything promising landscape that was Bumble and Hinge.
"I just..." I bring my face into my hands in embarrassment. "I miss having someone to come home to who wants to see me."
Spencer crossed through the living room, bowl in hand. He sat criss cross on the floor like he did most nights. "I want to see you. I always want to see you, Y/N."
"You know what I mean, Spencer…And if I'm being honest...sex. God, I miss sex. Good, consistent, effective sex from someone that knows me."
Spencer and I never talked about sex. When we would watch movies that had sex scenes in it, neither of us would talk. One time we watched a movie starring whatever current Hollywood Pretty Boy had captured the hearts of the Internet at the time, and I commented that I would "ride that cowboy into the sunset." I remembered looking at Spencer for his reaction. Usually he would blush or roll his eyes or kick me playfully in the shin for being crass.
But that time he didn't. Instead, his jaw set, grinding firmly and unyieldingly. After that I didn't make sexy jokes or talk about sex in front of him. I thought it made him uncomfortable, till now I suppose
The music changed, and the breakup anthem of the century played. I stood up on the sofa, solo cup in hand and swayed to the music as Spencer stood below.
"You want sex?" Spencer asked. "We can have sex on this sofa right now if that's what you want. I mean, how much wine have you had?"
I busted out laughing, sipping the red wine from my solo cup. I didn't bother for a fancy wine glass. Besides, it was cheap and . And clearly it was working if it made me imagine Spencer Reid, my hot, stoic roommate with dreamy brown eyes, offering me sex.
"Spencer! Come, dance. Please!" His eyes shifted over my body. And he must have noticed the way my knees wobbled under the insecurity of the sofa cushions or the way my eyes must have been glazed and sparkly.
He obliged me, and his hand wrapped around mine. He raised my hand above my head to twirl me and then walked me down from the couch. "Let's get you on level ground. I hurt my leg a couple years after I started the BAU and it's no fun healing up."
He sat me down on the couch and placed a throw blanket on my lap. My bowl of Mac & Cheese was missing, but returned back to my lap, reheated. Spencer also replaced my solo cup, cutting me off, thankfully, from alcohol for the time.
"Peach flavored electrolyte water. And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast." He offered, sitting down on my right as he started the show.
"I didn't mean to be annoying and buzzed. I know you don’t like it" I said, not looking at Spencer. "I don't love him. Or like him. Or even want to be with him. Ugh. No, I just...I want…sex."
Spencer nodded, not even looking at me as the scene between the Queen and her lady's maid wore on. I kept trying to convince Spencer that the Queen was actually the villain and the warring clan would take over and let the series run on and on for an infinite amount of seasons. But it was campy and dramatic and exactly what I needed as I licked my, apparently, very open and painful wounds.
"What's the matter?" I asked, pausing the television. "You look pissed off."
"You know that he was the one that lost out when you guys broke up." Spencer's eyes didn't meet mine, even though the television remained paused. "He didn't deserve you. Not if he didn't know how goddamn lucky he was when he had you."
I don't let my heart think this means anything."What?" But I feel my cheeks prickle with
heat, just like they did when Spencer, albeit jokingly, offered to have sex with me.
"I said, it's his loss. If I had you, I wouldn't ever lose you, Y/N."
"I'm nothing special." I admit. I wasn't the most positive or confident girl, in my mid twenties I went to therapy for a good three years to sort out some baggage from my childhood. We all have something and mine was having a hard time seeing myself. I couldn't maintain positivity, to my brain it was better to remain neutral than to jam positivity down my throat that I couldn't honestly accept.
"You're not nothing special, Y/N." Spencer's voice cut through, sharp and confident. He sat up, his body sliding so close to mine that his knees touched my thighs. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you're smart. And funny. You make me laugh like no one has during a time in my life when I was convinced no one would be able to."
Our apartment isn't big, but it's enough space for Spencer and I to feel like we're could interact when we wanted, which was most of the time. But there was enough space for us to find our alone time when needed.
As Spencer's knees rubbed against mine and his soft eyes met mine, the room seemed to collapse. It was as if all the air was sucked out.
“And I am so...I've never been happier to have you be the last person I see before I go to sleep and the first person I get to see when I wake up. And if I...and if I had that with you the way he did? I wouldn't have messed it up."
"Spencer…" He raised his hand, showing me his palm, a sign that I think signified he meant no harm, but as he words, heated and charged sliced through me, I could feel them ricochet upon impact.
"I know…But, when I said I would fuck you on this couch, Y/N, it wasn't an empty promise. I meant it. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything.”
Spencer shifted on the couch. It creaked with his weight. The bowl of Mac & Cheese burned against my leg— even through the throw blanket. My heart was racing and racing till it skipped a beat. It nearly stopped. He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to laugh it off again, as if the thought of me and Spencer hooking up…no fucking on the sofa was something comedic or entertaining.
“Are you…Spencer…are you sure?”
I tried to keep my voice steady, unwilling to let him know that the thought of his hands on my body lit a fire inside of me, a fire that I had yet to challenge. But God do I want to tame it. Sex with Spencer would be messy and complicated.
Spencer’s eyes narrowed in on my face. I would’ve thought that being stared at so intensely would have made me want to sink into the couch so I’d be as forgotten as stray hair ties and pocket change. But I wasn’t. Spencer’s brown eyes, liquid bronze bore into me. I felt a hot excitement wash over me that I knew was arousal.
“Yes.”
“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me?” I sighed. “It’s bad timing for either of us. But…”
“But you want me to kiss you?” I nodded and Spencer moved closer to me on the couch. “You want me to help you forget how that man has made you hurt.”
“Spencer…” Before I could rescind my desire, not that I would ever think about it, his hand cupped my cheek. Spencer’s thumb brushed against my jawbone as his eyes scanned my face. I could smell his lavender mint body wash; crisp and clean.
His mouth was anything, but crisp and clean. It was hot and dirty. Spencer kissed me with a hunger that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. I knew for the moment his lips touched mine, I was done for. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker; I hardly knew what it even tasted like. But Spencer’s kisses felt like it. He doesn’t drink, but his warm body was flush against mine and I tasted the heady, smokey warmth of a strong cocktail. His arms and torso were thick and solid.
I brought my hands up to his neck and carded my fingers through his scalp. He groaned, the vibrations tingled against my lips as he kissed me. Spencer’s teeth tugged at my bottom lip, pulling it out before he kissed it again. He shifted so his back was against the couch and I was hauled up to his lap.
“There you go, baby.” Spencer said. His hands were large and imposing against my back and I could feel their heat through my shirt.
My muscles and resolve transformed to liquid when he called me that. I could feel my heart surge and lurch and leap as Spencer’s lips nipped against my skin. It was so good, so warm, so achingly wonderful that I felt myself wondering if I could do this over and over. I loved my vibrator and I would continue to love my vibrator long after this once-in-a-life-time situation with my roommate would end. But there was nothing like straddling a man’s lap.
And Spencer Reid was a sight to behold. I knew he used to be skinny, but in the years that I didn’t know him, Spencer had grown up. He filled out his pants with his strong thighs and softer stomach. His pants were strained and tented. I grinded down, enjoying his haughty moan in my ear.
I arched my back, exposing my neck as Spencer’s wet, hot mouth pressed kissed along the column of my throat. Feeling him grin as he kissed me I tugged at his hair sharp and hard. His grunt is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I didn’t think that he’d be this vocal but with me writing in his lap I felt him try to hold back.
“Just touch me.” I whined, kissing Spencer. “Please just touch me.”
His pants tented against my core. I tensed at the feeling of his erection. My pajama pants and underwear, though thin, offer only a sliver of the friction I desired. Spencer’s fingers, quick and nimble, didn’t hesitate to undo the drawstring bow.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Spencer murmured, kissing my temple. His lips are like a tattoo kiss as he resurrects something inside of me that I had long buried. “Sit on the couch.”
I scrambled to sit, my body acting of its own accord as Spencer’s words rattled through me. He was so confident, so sure, so certain. And his hands never left my body. It was as if there was some internal pull between the two of us. He sank to his knees and swung my right leg over his shoulder. I lifted my butt and he slid my pajama pants off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, Spencer licked his lower lip and looked at me as if I was good enough to eat. I supposed that we were about to find out just exactly how good I was.
“Open up for me, baby girl.” Spencer whispered, his breath landed on my skin and made me jump. “Let me see just how pretty you are.”
Spencer Reid had a dirty mouth. My cheeks and chest and belly burned with arousal. He kissed along the edges of my panties. Spencer’s middle finger dragged along my underwear, teasing my clit through the cotton fabric. With the patience of a saint, Spencer tormented both of us. He looked at me as if he could commit me to memory. His eyes were heavy with lust and something that I swore could mean something more. But that line of thinking had red wine written all over it. It wasn’t drunk. Hell, I wasn’t even buzzed anymore.
“Jesus, I’m a lucky fucking bastard.”
Yet, I sat there. With my legs spread, held open by Spencer’s large hands, practically humming with need and desire.
“Please. Please. Just touch me.” I begged, beyond caring if I sounded wanton with need. Spencer smirked as he hooked a finger underneath my panties and slipped them down my legs. And there I sat, legs spread. Finally he obliged. With two fingers, Spencer dragged them up my exposed core. The heel of his hand brushed against my clit. His skin was soft and his fingers deft and skilled. I closed my eyes as the pleasure took control of my body.
Spencer slipped a fingertip inside of me. He could feel the wetness dripping from my cunt. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to hold his hand against my core. Our eyes met and I could not tell which one of us decided to let his finger sink inside of me. I watched as he slipped inside and released a throaty moan. My cries were extinguished by Spencer’s unyielding mouth. He pumped in and out, in and out, before slipping out of my cunt all together. I lunged forward at the sudden loss and was met by Spencer’s wry chuckle.
“I am going to eat your pussy. And you are going to cum against my face with your legs around my shoulders.”
I groaned. It’s as if Spencer knew that my brain needed to be switched off. He nipped at my inner thigh. Blood rushed throughout my body and I felt my pussy heat at the sensation. Spencer’s soft breath was hot against my skin as he kissed. He licked a line up my aroused core before flicking his tongue over my clit. It was a teasing, tormenting motion that coaxed a wave of pleasure to build. He’s a man possessed, so far gone that I didn’t even attempt to hold back as a moan rises in my throat.
“Jesus. You are a sight to behold. I’m going to show you how a man takes his time.”
As if he could possibly spread me apart even further, Spencer squeezed my thighs. Clearly he wanted to see all of me. Taste all of me. I could feel a coil tighten in my lower stomach and as Spencer lowered his mouth to my core, I felt the coil snap.
His licks aren’t shy and timid like I imagined. They’re purposeful and powerful. And threaten to melt my carefully crafted guard. He’s already gotten me well past the point of foreplay. I’m so wet that I’m sure cock that tents his pants can slip inside without much resistance. But he didn’t stop. His tongue continued lick and nip and suck against my most intimate area.
“Is this all for me? So wet. So pretty, sweetheart. Your cunt is dripping for me.”
I panted, unable to form a coherent thought as Spencer’s heated gaze spread over me. “All for you. Only for you.”
“Well in that case, I think I have a job to do.
All I could see was red. His hands gripped my thighs. I hated my thighs, usually. They’re too soft and squishy and usually ruin most pairs of pants eventually.
“Fucking hell.” Spencer cursed as he sunk two fingers into my needy cunt. “You’re so hot and tight for me, Y/N. Look at you. All splayed out. All for me.”
“You don’t have to do it until I finish.” I blurted out. “I—I know this isn’t….I want tonight to be for you as much as it is for me.”
Spencer’s eyes shifted.
“Ssshh, shhh,” He cooed. He looked up at me with his eyes big and blissed out. It was almost too much for me to handle. I watched as he kneeled in front of me; pants had become too tight from the moment my fingers groped him. At this point it was nearly impossible to withstand.
“I’ve thought about this way too much for us to rush this. I’m going to take my time with you, baby. You are going to ride my face like a good girl.The only thing that’s keeping me from cumming in my pants is the thought of burying my face into your pulsing cunt followed by my fucking you raw with my leaking cock.”
I yelped as he and sucked along my inner thigh. My skin was impossibly soft and tempting. “Fuck. Fuck, baby. You’re perfect. You are a fucking dream.”
I fisted his hair, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. For a while it only set my own bedsheets ablaze, but now it spread to Spencer. He groaned against my core, still lapping me up as the wall of pleasure threatened to come crashing down.
One second I was moaning, feeling myself toe the precipice before I teetered over. The feeling built and crashed before I could even enjoy it.
“Fuck! No. Damn it.” I cursed myself for not being able to climax, despite the down right sinful things Spencer was hell bent on doing between my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t…sometimes I have a hard time.”
“Don’t worry,” Spencer assured, his thumb brushing against my kneecap, “We’ll find our rhythm. Together. Anything you want. And I think I might actually die if I don’t get inside you this second.”
I laughed, dragging Spencer up by the shirt collar. He placed his hands against my hips and pulled me forward for a kiss.
I tasted myself against his lips and it turned my on beyond belief. “I want you. I’m on the pill and I want you. It’s awful timing because I don’t have any condoms and it’s a terrible idea but—”
I’m cut off by Spencer’s lips again. His mouth seared against mine, hot and needy. “I’m clean. I want this. I want you. So badly, sweetheart. So bad.”
I nodded, my mouth unwilling and unable to leave Spencer as he knelt in between my legs. He stood to his full height and took my hands. “I know I have promised to fuck you on this couch, but I have a bad knee and once I’m buried inside you, baby, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”
“My bed’s made.”
Spencer’s hands didn’t leave my waist as I walked him to my bedroom. I should’ve been more embarrassed as I walked with him, considering I looked more akin to Winnie the Pooh than a sexy hook up. But once I felt a sharp sting on my ass, I quickly realized that Spencer thought the opposite.
“Don’t blame me.” Spencer said. “With that ass you’re lucky I haven’t had the sense to take you over my knee already.”
I turned, facing Spencer and standing with just an oversized pajama shirt covering my chest. His hands hovered over my waist, pulling me towards him by the fabric of my shirt. “I need to see those tits, baby. They drive me fucking wild in the morning. When you’re sitting on that damn counter with your messy hair and no bra. You’re a sight to behold, baby.”
“On one condition.” I presented, attempting to act as if the dirty words that fell between us had no effect on me. “Those pants? They find their way to the hamper. And fast.”
Spencer chuckled as his fingers brushed stray pieces of my hair away from my face. He touched me with such tenderness that I could feel myself craving it long after it was gone. He dropped his pants, followed by his boxers. I meant to tease him about the mini double helix DNAs printed all over his boxers, but I was effectively silenced by his erection.
I felt him the entire time I sat and made out with in his lap. I could feel how hard and thick and long he must be, but seeing him out in the open made my body lurch with need. He devoured me with his lips, pushing me down into the bed as his quick hands rid me of my shirt. Spencer’s teeth met my nipple, nipping and twisting it to elicit the dirtiest moans from my lips. He smiled, sucking marks into my skin that would last even after all what stood between us shattered.
Licking my lips, I could still taste myself from his kiss. Never feeling anything quite this intense with anyone, I suddenly felt so naked and bare. But Spencer’s calm hands, big and gentle, soothed me wordlessly.
“I need you.” I begged, wanton with need, “I need your cock so bad.” I wasn’t a begging woman, but as Spencer pressed the tip of his cock at my entrance I figured that anyone can learn how to relent now and again.
Sweet kisses to my sweaty skin replaced his dirty words that made me flush. As Spencer hovered above me, I drank him in. His eyes were hazel, but sometimes, depending on what he wore, they were brown or green. I quickly unbuttoned his top, eager to have his warmth spread all over him. He was thick and solid— all man. From the muscles in his back to the furrow of his brow and the slight curl pattern to his hair, Spencer sucked all the air from my lungs.
I was weightless. I was floating. I was soaring.
When he finally slid into me it was with an excruciatingly slow speed. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, a hand brushed my hair and a pair of lips kissed my forehead. “Give ya a chance to see what you can handle.”
Emboldened, I wrapped my legs and interlocked my ankles around Spencer’s butt. He lunged forward and his forehead dipped towards my breast. His kisses were fast and erratic as I felt him sink deeper and deeper inside of me.
“You’re so thick…ah!”
“Oh fuck.” His voice was as raw and as affected as mine. “It’ll be fine, darling. You’re so perfect like this. Taking this cock like a good girl. I know how to make it better for you.”
His thumbs, rough and sharp, circled around my clit helping me to take his cock deeper and deeper. I whined, desperate for the relief and embarrassed at the way I’m at center stage. Spencer took me, made me his and I’m nothing but a mess for him. My bones are liquid as he reaches out for my hand.
It was like there was a blueprint to my body. I had it locked away somewhere. But somehow, somewhere along the way Spencer figured out where it was stored. He read the blueprint. And he knew exactly what to do to make my foundation crumble. With each stroke of his fingers against my clit or pulse of his cock in my pussy, he knew exactly what I needed.
Spencer’s lust filled voice rang clear. “You feel close. I’m so close. Can you come for me? Huh? Show me how you play with that pretty little pussy. How do you do it, Y/N?”
His hands and fingers dug into my lush body with an unrelenting desire I wasn’t accustomed to. Magic fingers. God. And I magic fucking cock. I grabbed his hair, dragging him down to my lips as I teased my clit. Looking down to where our two halves met nearly sent me over the edge. My cock swallowed Spencer’s thick cock, it was hot and erotic and I watched with my mouth hanging open in pure, unadulterated desire. My pussy, wet and hungry for more, begged him for more. I grabbed his ass with my unoccupied, dragging my fingernails down his skin as I begged for him to fuck me harder.
“Harder. Spencer. I need it.”
Spencer brought his face into my neck, kissing and biting my neck as he pounded into me. The angle set rockets of pleasure from my core to my toes, spurring me on as I practically chanted his name. Spencer moaned, his teeth sharp and mouth hot and heady as his kisses grew more and more frantic.
His thrusting was still sharp and calculated as his cocked continued to fuck me. “God, you look gorgeous when I fuck you. All fucked out from my cock. My girl.”
I liked the way he called me his. It was nice to be claimed. To be wanted and desired so badly that two letter little words were tacked on. It was a tiny word, but it changed the entire meaning. It was the sort of word that could make foundations falter and buildings collapse and roommates morph into something else entirely. Endorphins and hormones and who else knows what coursed through my veins.
It was just me and him. Together in a limitless space that neither of us would care to ever leave.
“So close.” I groaned and Spencer knew well enough to just continue rather than to change anything up. “That’s it, baby. Oh! Fuck. Spencer.”
My high came crashing down around me. I felt my cunt clamp around Spencer’s cock as he continued to thrust into me. His eyes watched me with an analytic level of observation. I knew he had a good memory; one that refused to allow him to forget much of anything. But as he watched me fall apart, naked and vulnerable and oh so aroused, it was like he was trying to commit me to memory.
“Come inside. Fuck! Spencer. Please. I need it. I want it.” I begged him, desperate for him to climax inside of me. I wanted to see what it would feel like to have his cum dripping from my needy, spent pussy. I wondered if it would feel different, if it would change something, something fundamentally.
His voice was hoarse and strained as he came, shooting spurts of hot cum into my cunt. It was unabashedly erotic, watching him fall apart with his bare cock stuffed inside me. “Fucking, hell. It’s never been like that before.” He kissed my jaw, holding me in place by my chin while still sheathed inside of me. It was a lovely feeling. Full and safe. I must have been so drunk on him because I thought I could stay like this forever.
The silence that fell between the two of us lingered for several months. Spencer’s fingers danced along my hip bone and up to my rib change. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. He had creases near his eyes and deep, well set-in bags under his eyes. I wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to spend the night with me. Naked of course. I don’t think either of us could handle having it any other way.
I never fucked my roommate. Nor have I been ballsy enough to have “feel better” sex with a friend. It’s not like I expected him to lay out a red carpet and get down on one knee after he gave me a handful of (earth shattering) orgasms.
“Y/N.” Spencer breathed. A beat passed before I dared to reply.
“Spencer.” He stirred beside me, his hand resting against my thigh.
“I think…I think we’re gonna need to try that again and again and again…” He rolled over onto me, kissing along my jaw. I felt the pads of his thumbs against my bare breasts and sighed.
God, help me. He’s my man.
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IT WIŁŁ COME BAC₭ ⠀,, k.th
it’s a small world. you knew this, but you came to really believe it when you ran into an old classmate at the grocery store on a snowy vacation. how strange is that? even more so when he shows up once more at the door of your cabin, frozen from the cold and needing your help. ִֶָ. ´-
⸺ listen to the playlist
ㅤㅤ៶ㅤ ( 🗝️ ) ・ 6.9k
𝖕airings ˒ yandere!taehyun 𝑥 reader
ℊ ; smut ˒ thriller ˒ yandere
𝖜arnings ˒ dubcon!!, baby trapping, dark & yandere themes, taehyun has a warped view of the world, doggy, rough sex, mentions of breeding, stalking, he’s slightly off putting, possessiveness & jealousy… duh!, hard dom!taehyun, nasty freaky stuff, corruption but like not conventionally?, unprotected sex, mentions of not taking birth control, creampie, biting and hickeys, obsession, DDNE please read these and decide for yourself if you’re comfortable reading! let me know if i’ve missed any tags.
✎୭ ashlynn's note this one is a delicious gift from 🍵 anon!!! i’ve never gone this dark. IM KINDA NERVOUS. i really hope you like it!! please let me know if i miss any tags!
﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist
“Taehyun?”
The man turns around, brow pinched and eyes searching for who’d said his name. When those sharp, intelligent eyes land on you, familiarity passes over them. In the black, there’s a shine, and the shape of them softens into something else; something you’re more used to, on him.
“Hey,” he says. His arms are full of supplies and groceries. Knitting his strong brows together, he says, “What are you doing out here?”
You toss the chips you’d been grabbing before you noticed him into your cart. It falls with a crinkle down onto the mountain of other snacks just like it. You should probably pick up some real food, too. The others shouldn’t have made food your job. If it was up to you, the cabinets would be stuffed with an array of quick snacks. Cooking isn’t really your strong suit.
“I’m gonna spend a few nights at a cabin here with some friends. We wanted to find some snow, since it never snows back home,” you say, and then you laugh at the absurdity of finding someone from your hometown all the way out here. What are the odds of that? Especially since everybody graduated and scattered out into their own moving lives. “What are you doing out here?”
He reaches up to push his glasses up his nose, an easy smile on his lips. The sight of it brings back memories.
Taehyun and you had not been the closest in high school. You were in different crowds, and he kept to his own anyway. But the few times you two did interact, by some assigned group project or an incidental brief exchanging of words, he was nice enough.
He changed a lot, though. If someone were to ask you yesterday if you remember him from school, the image you would’ve imagined is at stark odds with the man standing in front of you now. Where the long, lanky limbs and unsure demeanor of a boy once was, there is now all the confidence of a man. The angles of him are sharper, more defined and chiseled. And, his shoulders… He’s gotten broader, too. The butterflies in your belly are strange; It’s strange feeling like this over a man you might not have looked twice at years ago. He wasn’t ugly by any means, back then. You just… had an eye out for other things. Your palate was different.
He answers, “Touché.” Stepping back, he lets another customer push their cart through the gap between you. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. What have you been up to? Back home for break? It seems like everybody from school moved on. It’s nice seeing someone from our class.”
It’s not an answer to your question, but the snow gear and thick jackets in his arms tell you enough. He’s seeking snow, too. Snow birding is really the only way that you might see snow, here. Snow really only ever comes to the mountain peaks. Speaking up over some storewide announcement that makes the bustle around you impossibly louder, you say, “Oh my god, right? That’s what I was just thinking.” You make your tone light—the kind of saturated sweetness that comes with small talk, all manufactured and stilted. It’s not necessarily awkward; you just are clumsy with this kind of conversation. You just ramble to fill the space. “I… Just have been working. Never went to school. Did I tell you that you look good? What have you been up to?”
For a moment, you think you see a glimpse of something… strange pass over his eyes. Something that makes you feel weird—one of those hair-rising feelings that you cannot explain, but feel innately to your core. A primal hunger being fed, a twitching of his lips, as though vindicated. It’s gone in nothing more than a blink of an eye, and barely even was there in the first place. You’ve got a mushy brain from driving all day, anyway. What a strange thing for your mind to make up, though.
“Nothing much. Work for me, too,” he says, shrugging. “Finally got the chance to get away from it, and decided to come out here.”
Another shopper comes shoving themselves between you. Clearly, your catching up is an obstruction on their very important, very urgent shopping trip. Taking the hint, you tell Taehyun, “I get it, believe me. But…” You gesture at your groceries. “I’ve gotta finish up shopping before everybody gets here. It was nice seeing you! I wish I could linger, really.”
He offers you an easy smile, letting his crossed arms fall away from his chest and shaking his head. “No big deal. I’ve got some stuff to pick up, too. Have a nice one, yeah? Don’t get caught in the blizzard, or anything.”
Snorting, you dip your head goodbye and say, “I’ll try not to.”
❅
The hardwood floors creak beneath your flustered pacing. “Are you serious? How long is it gonna be?”
“I’m sorry? I didn’t expect someone to slash our fucking tires?” Your friend’s voice cuts in and out through the speakers, one of the few hollow sounds in the cabin. Aside from you and the decor, it’s empty. “I’m sorry that you’re stuck out there, but there’s nothing we can do. You’re going to have to wait it out for a few days. At least until we can get there.”
Gritting your teeth, you give her a tactful Okay, bye, and thumb the big red button. The sound of the call ending echoes, too. Curling your arms around yourself, the whole place feels big and haunting. The howling of whipping wind and snow against the windows doesn’t help.
Someone had slashed their tires, and now you’re going to be here alone. For days. If being alone wasn’t already making knots of your belly, that was. It’s startling: going out of your way to slash someone's tires, but making no attempts at stealing the car or anything in it. Either it’s personal, or somebody just wanted to ruin somebody else’s day. Both leave a sour taste in your mouth.
Your every limb goes rigid at a thump, and in the corner of your eye, there’s movement. When you whip your head to look fully in that direction, all that moves in the window is snow like haze and the trees bending in the same violent wind. Nothing but night and the storm.
Beside yourself, you inch toward the window to look closer. Tugging a thick, willowy curtain to one side, you do a scan.
Sat in the snow, dusting over with heavy white flakes as you look, are a pair of glasses. You are not stupid enough to go out and get a closer look.
❅
With the fireplace roaring, the place doesn’t feel so empty.
You waited all day for the snow to stop coming down so hard. If you’re going to be alone here for days, you want to go out and spend the daylight away around other people.
Really, you just don’t want to be in this cabin all by yourself. You have a bad feeling. It;s unfounded, maybe. But you do.
The snow does not stop falling, and the wind does not stop blowing it into thick piles. It’s everywhere: the whole entire yard is coating thick with it, and so is your car. Could you even drive away in this, if you needed to? Maybe after thirty minutes of plowing snow. You’ve at least kicked enough of it away from the porch to open the door.
At some point, hope for doing anything but toiling around in here dwindled away. With what embers of excitement for vacation you have left, you tugged on some knitted socks and played Christmas classics off your phone.
You’re still playing them as you decide to cook something up. You’re not the best cook, but what do you have to lose? It’ll only be you eating it. If it goes awry, you’ve still got snacks to make into a meal.
The kitchen comes alive while you work. You tug out all the pots and pans that the cabin owners provide, clicking the stove on while you dance and hum along to the songs that you’d seemingly come out of the womb knowing. Pulling the fridge open to the song of Silver Bells, you decide on something ambitious and set ingredients out over the counters.
You don’t even get to slicing before there’s a knock at the door. Three very solid, very resounding knocks. The knife makes a clattering sound as you let it drop to the cutting board.
There shouldn’t be anybody out here. Maybe your friends got the car up and running, and forgot to let you know. Your heart thrums a wild, crashing beat, as you swipe your phone up to shoot a quick text.
At the top of a screen, a text comes in from an unknown number. Your belly does a frantic swoop, a thousand different thoughts swarming and shoving to be the one at the forefront of your mind.
+1 [678-999-8212]
Hey, it’s Taehyun.
+1 [678-999-8212]
I’m sorry if this is weird, but I’m the one who just knocked at your door. I wanted to hike up to my cabin but I’m lost as hell right now, and recognized your car outside
+1 [678-999-8212]
Thought it would be better to ask you for help instead of a random.
You take a moment to blink at the glow of the screen. Taehyun was the one knocking on your door? That both settles you and kicks up more questions. What are the odds that you both rented out cabins from the same people? The world is small; you’re reminded that a lot, these days.
Sliding your phone into your back pocket, you head for the door. He’s got to be freezing. It’s coming down hard out there.
The door swings open to Taehyun’s face just as frost-glazed as you expected. His jaw chatters and his nose and cheeks are a deep, winter-pink. Despite it, his mouth pulls into a friendly smile—the kind that illustrates in the humorous corners that he is aware of the absurdity of his situation, as well. He keeps his hands tucked into his pockets, a thick winter jacket zipped up to the top dusted at the shoulders with fat snowflakes just the same as on top of his coal-black hair.
“Oh my god,” you say. A laugh seeps through the cracks. “I’ve got the fireplace going hot. Do you wanna come in? How long have you been out there?” Stepping to one side, you offer him entry into your home. Temporary home, that is.
He tries to rein in the shivers, you can see it in the smile he’s got plastered on his face and the way he buzzes and trembles around the edges like the bitter cold is trying to push against his skin and escape him. “If it doesn’t bother you,” he says, stepping in past you. When he passes, thick in the air, he smells like smoke and the dark woods—it’s musky and familiar, but also haunting in the way that the wilder edges of a forest could be.
He smells nice. Really nice. The kind of blend of manly musk and cologne that makes a woman look twice. It makes you look twice as he passes, at least.
Him standing there now, eyes roving over the cabin’s wood walls and the knitted blankets and the fire whispering from the living room, you realize how strange it is to be here with an old classmate that you haven’t seen for at least three years. How awkward it is.
“It doesn’t bother me at all. You did scare me a bit, though,” you say, shooing the wispy chill away with a close of the door. “I’d rather you not freeze to death out there. It’s, like, ten degrees.” You tuck your arms across your chest. “What made you go hiking in this? It’s been nasty today. I haven’t even been able to leave.”
His cheek twitches with a dimple. Even back in school, you noticed that. Then, it’d fit right into his face. Now, it’s a delicious contrast against his angled face. “Sorry I scared you. I knew it’d be weird, but… Yeah, I was freezing out there. I seriously thought I was going to die.” Hair brushes over his eyes, their cunning and sharpness something that draws you in. Like two swirling, black pools of swirling water, they beckon you in a way that you can’t quite digest. “It wasn’t too bad down by the car, and I didn’t know there was a whole damn trail up here, so I… yeah. It got bad.”
Snorting, you nod. “I bet.” You’re not sure what else to say; your mind freezes over in an impermeable frost. You tap around with a pick to try and find words, but there’s no getting through it. You hardly know him. What do you talk about? What are you going to talk about, considering the fact that he’s no doubt going to be here for some time? Until it stops blizzarding so hard outside, at least.
Charging through the tense moment with a brassiness that you do not remember him carrying back then, Taehyun nods a gesture toward the kitchen and the dinner you’d been in the middle of making. “Making something?” he says. The low, warm light of the cabin washes over him and make his face something cozier than it’d been standing frozen at your front door. It also makes a show of the angles of his cheek as it turns, and the tall line of his nose. Something on him is missing. You can’t capture the notion or put your finger on it, but somewhere in the depths of memory, you feel like there was something there that isn’t here with him now. Maybe it’s a different styling of his hair from the last time you saw him, wind-swept as it is now. Or maybe you’re just stir-crazy.
“Yeah.” You nod, watching in place as he ventures into the kitchen. Narrowing your eyes down, you try to pinpoint the thought. Is it something small? A pair of earrings? “I was gonna cook up something warm for dinner, but I’m not the best cook. I don’t burn anything, but… it’s never great, you know?”
Taehyun tugs his jacket off his arms, and you confirm that it’s not a certain jacket or something. “I’ll help,” he says, discarding the heavy thing. “Make myself useful.”
“Oh!” you say, bringing your hands together in realization. “Are you not wearing your glasses? Holy shit, I’ve been staring at you thinking something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell what it was.”
He furrows his brows, corners of his mouth twitching. The look passes over his face in nothing more than a split-second, before something else plasters over it. He crinkles his nose and says, “Huh. I didn’t even notice…” The knife you’d left to let him in glints as he picks it up to assume where you’d left off. “Didn’t you say that you were here with some friends? Is everybody asleep already?”
You trace the lines of his face where those brown glasses had rested the last time you’d seen him. He must’ve forgotten them in his cabin this morning, or something, before he went out. You grab a pot and fill it over the sink for noodles. “Actually, they all got caught up back home. It’s literally just me here for days. I’ve been so bored.” Over your shoulder, you add, “I’m just making some fettuccine and chicken.”
“Caught up?” he says, voice casual and occupied. The sound of the knife against the cutting board as he slices follow his words.
“Yeah. Someone messed their car up bad… Like, knife to the tires and the windows were smashed in all over the seats. It was fucking terrifying.” Clicking the stove on, you set the pot to boil.
Taehyun doesn’t answer for a few minutes. You look over your shoulder and find him working in the chicken still. He answers, his eyes dragging up to you for a quick moment before making sure he doesn’t cut a finger off, “Did they steal anything?”
Turning to him fully as you wait for the water to bubble and turn over, you say, “That’s the weird thing. They didn’t steal or anything, they just fucked it up and… left.”
“Huh,” he says, furrowing his strong brow down at his working hands. “Yeah, that’s weird. That’s some personal shit. Maybe someone had a shit day.” The end comes out around a breathy laugh.
“Yeah, maybe.” You crack open the cardboard flaps and pour the noodles into the pot. “Still… scary.”
Taehyun takes over the cooking, and you’re happy to entrust dinner to him. He works diligently, and the sight of his back as he stirs and chops and seasons—it’s mouth-watering. This way, you can fully admire him as he does. You’re not much help, anyway. Instead, you just start the gentle hum of Christmas music once more and stay out of his way.
It’s nice to have somebody here. The howling of the wind and the echoing of your own movements back to you has started to become haunting. Maybe having Taehyun here is a bit unconventional, and it really should be your friends here with you, but having him here is the better outcome than some creep being the one knocking at your door. It’s nice to have him here in case that does happen, too.
It’s not like he’s bad company, or anything, either.
When the entirety of the cabin is full with the smell of warm dinner and your conversation, you swoop back in to offer help with something you can manage. Stepping beside him, indulging in his rich scent once more, you plate the dinner he’d made for you. Steam dances up from it and beckons your tastebuds. “You’re, like, a Michelin chef. What the hell? Thank you.”
He doesn’t answer, and in the corner of your eye, you catch his knuckles going white around the counter’s edge where he leans his weight into the arm. Frowning, you go to look up at him.
It leaves his face when you catch it, but you find him looking down at you… different again. Darker, as though the pupils at the center have grown hungry and eaten up the chocolate there. You think you see his jaw tightening and a hard swallow bobbing in his throat, too. His face is so close like this, you can see the plush turn to his lips and the darkness beneath his eyes, and even the chap of his lips.
Flustering, you take a step back and do your work there. You’d stepped way too close to him. Does he think you’re weird? You’ve always been the type with a scarce personal bubble; you forget that others don’t work the same.
“It’s nothing much,” he finally says. It’s cool and collected once more. “I make this all the time. It’s one of my favorites.”
Handing him his plateful, the chicken glistening with glaze and the noodles a swirl of cream and garnish, you say, “You’ll have to write down the recipe for me, or something. I totally want to make it for myself.”
Accepting it with another easy grin, he says, “Yeah, sure.” He forks a bit of chicken off the plate.
The smile does not reach his eyes.
❅
The longer you look at it, the worse the feeling gets. Black and scrawled in wobbling lines, jagged and dark in places where he’d gone over a line a few times, you just… feel like you’ve seen it all before. It’s a smokey, tainted memory, far-off and obscured no matter how you squint your eyes.
Why do you remember it? Why does the sight of it crawl like dread under your skin and wilt? Sure, you went to school with Taehyun, but you don’t really think recognizing his handwriting should feel like this. Who even pays attention to the handwriting of somebody you interacted with once or twice, anyway?
God. You are dramatic. You kick your legs out of the comforter, swelteringly thick and quilted with a gaudy winter pattern of reds and browns and whites, and fold up the paper to place it on the darkwood bedside table.
The click of you flicking the white switch on echoes off the bathroom’s tiled walls. You reach for your toothbrush on the counter, and then the world goes dark around you.
You freeze, eyes frantically blinking and straining against the blackness to adjust. The power had gone out. There’s a few beats of you stricken in place, toothbrush in hand, thrown for a loop.
Then, the whole cabin goes out as the power to the heater dies, too. You swear.
Your journey down the hallway is a stumbling of legs and the grooves of the wood-paneled walls against your fingertips. It’s the pitch black of night out here, too. The only thing you can see is the static that fills up the gaps when it’s dark. “Taehyun?” you say. Is he asleep already? You don’t even know where the room he’d taken for the night is, relative to where you are now.
Nothing answers you for a few moments, and then from an opening door, light floods like a miracle. The shape of him, the light from his phone’s flashlight just enough to dimly illuminate his features, comforts you. His hair is ruffled, like he’d just drug himself from bed.
“Power went out,” he says. It’s awfully loud, now that you two are the only sounds in here.
“Yeah, I think I just had a little heart attack. I was up brushing my teeth.” Why hadn’t you thought to use your phone’s light? “The heater… We’re gonna freeze to death. Do you think they have a generator, or something? The fireplace doesn’t really do much…”
He features glow in as he moves the phone. “Mine didn’t. It’s fine, my room’s got a fireplace in it. We can close the door and get it warm in there.”
“Better than nothing,” you say, shrugging and following him in.
You plop on his bed, the surface of it cold and plush, while he works on kindling a fire. “This is, like, nowhere near where I thought I’d be for vacation.”
He readjusts the logs, dry and perfect for burning, into a point. Poking and prodding, Taehyun says, “Not having fun?”
You snort at the dry and flat delivery. “Friends haven’t even gotten back to me, I’m snowed in, and I’m locked in here with a total stranger.” You draw out the last word as a joke, your smile painting the tone playful, but it’s the truth. You don’t know Taehyun one bit. It’s just as strange and unpredictable as the other things on the list of things that have gone awry. “I guess I had a good dinner, so I can’t be complaining too much.”
Curling up to his full height, he takes a knee and settles into the bed beside you. “Make some room for this stranger, won’t you? We should probably try to use our body heat.”
Laughing, you go to say something to rift off his joke. It dies in your throat when he doesn’t join you. In an awkward sort of panic, you wince and say, “Yeah, it’s cold as hell. We’re gonna freeze to death in our sleep.”
And, ridiculously, you crawl under the covers. You don’t know why you do it; maybe it’s because he’s completely serious and watching you, or maybe because it’s true that you might actually get so cold in your sleep that you die if you don’t. Either way, you do. You don’t know which way to settle: facing him or with your back turned to him. Both are strange, but which is stranger?
Facing him, you decide that turning your back to him just doesn’t settle in your soul right.
“Weird night,” he says, sliding himself under the blanket’s covering. The same blanket that you lay in. “But…” he says, eyes flickering over you laid there. He looks as though he’s going to say something else, but he decides against it. “Good night.”
He does you a favor and turns his back to you.
❅
Night still holds the world in its claws when your eyes flutter open.
You shift to try and find that perfect position that’ll lull you back into sleep, slipping your legs over the sheets and shifting your cheek against your arm and wiggling your hips against the solid pressure behind you.
The pressure behind you. Stilling, your eyes fly open.
The weight of Taehyun behind you, his chest rising and falling, and the warmth of him, pierce through sleep’s haze like a white-hot knife. You’re all the way on his side of the bed, pressing your bottom into him. Shame creeps its wicked way from your chest and then out through your skin, blazing the skin of your cheeks. You push up on an elbow to scoot back to your side of the bed as slow and covertly as you can manage.
Fingers like teeth, biting the skin of your waist, stop you. Your heart jumps.
“Don’t move.” Taehyun’s breath and words curl out over the juncture of your neck like a chill. He lets you sit in that for a moment, your heart thumping like a frightened bird in a cage, before he says, “It’s weird. Weird that when I suggested you sleep in my bed, you looked so nervous. But, look where you are now.”
Your voice comes out strangled. “I’m sorry.”
When his palm slides down from your waist to brush over your belly, you begin to think that it’s not an apology that he wants. Your stomach does untamed dips and rolls. It’d been the cold that you were afraid of, but now it’s the blistering heat that blooms where his touch goes that grips you.
“That didn’t take very long.” Like a trail of growing, raging fire, he takes that hand and brings it down the lengths of your body. Over your hip, and then down the supple curve of your ass, and then down the back of your thighs, where he toys with the notion of slipping it between the seam there. “It never did take much for you to give those men your body. Give them what was mine. Don’t worry, I’ll make it right. I’ll make you right.”
Your mind turns over itself, a thousand stray, blinding thoughts bursting at the seams and all asking for your attention. You don’t know which to start with; you don’t have the slightest clue what he means. Asking any of them out loud seems absurd, and the notion crumbles to dust when he brings his arm down your front to cup your heat.
“Face in the bed, ass up.” He commands it in your ear like ice: absolute and biting. “It’s how you like it, isn’t it?”
Doggy is how you like it. You don’t know how Taehyun would know that. What you do know, though, is the way the simple words kindle hungry fire in your cunt. Dragging yourself from the heat of the mattress in a bleary, glazed-over mess of limbs, you paint yourself into an obscene picture: your cheek presses into the mattress, blazing with disbelief, your eyes wide and gone and the mess of your hair obscuring them, and your back the delicate arch of sex and sinfulness as you display your ass high in the air for him.
When you look at him to see how he likes it, you don’t find the man that you saw in the grocery store, nor the man that you let into your cabin. The look you find, vacant and overflowing with an untamed hunger, raises the hair on your skin. It’s off.
“Taehyun,” you say. It’s really just to speak—you don’t have words.
He runs a hand down the curve of your back. His voice comes from behind you, now. “This should’ve been just mine. But you never did look my way, did you?” Your body jumps when his hands find your hips and the fabric in the way of your skin there. Hooking his thumbs under both the waistband of your bottoms and your panties, he drags them down your thighs in a slow crawl. Each inch of blazing skin bared to the air tingles against the cold and under his gaze as you feel his eyes eat it up.
That’s what his eyes do: they eat and they eat, taking up the space around them like ever-hungry blackholes until there is nothing but their absence of light and their heaviness. That was the pull you remember in the store—a force like gravity beckoning a perverse finger at you and leaving you nowhere to go but toward him.
He pulls the fabric until it’s bunched at your knees. Prodding a finger, just the very end of it, at your hole. You flutter around it, belly turning. “Why didn’t you look my way?” he asks. The rustling of him working on his pants has you twitching and shifting hot against the covers.
“I don’t know what you mean.” You’re only able to choke out the words, heart jumping up into your throat as he takes his hand up your back, pins and needles following his path and pushes your head into the mattress by the back of the neck.
Breath hot over your cheek, he says, “Is this what you want? To be fucked like an animal?” You know he means the position. Your mouth goes dry. “You’re better than that. But, if it’s what you like, I’ll fuck you like it.”
You have a thought. It’s fleeting and fuzzy like the rest of your mind, but you catch it just long enough to turn it over once. When you’d seen Taehyun, you were struck by how he looked more like the kind of guy you might go after than the lanky, off-putting one you remember. And, now he’s set on how you like to get fucked.
The tip of his cock at your entrance sends the thought to smoke and the aftermath clogs your cognitive function. Your mouth falls open as he presses some inches in, slow and enriching. But then he pulls the slight length out to collect some slick and tap his cockhead to your clit. You jolt against the sheets.
When he slides back in this time, he makes sure to brush your hair out of your face to watch every last inch of you taking him reflected in the furrowing of your brows and the glassiness of your eyes and the pink of your cheeks.
He stills when he reaches the hilt, his hips flush to your ass, his shadow falling over you as he leans to bring his ear to your mouth. “You should’ve looked my way. Things could’ve been so different. It’s okay—I’ll make you realize. I know who you really are. I’ll wash this all away and clean you up and make you good again.”
He doesn’t leave space for words or thought. Not enough for you to taste the rust like rot over his iron words. Planting his heels on the bed and shoving your face further into the bed, he starts his hips in a rhythm that has your breaths stuttering and achy wines clawing out from the prison of your chest. He does not move precisely, nor is the bucking of his hips pointed, but it’s a crashing sort of ruin. It doesn’t matter if he finds that spot inside of you. He’s going to consume your every sense: he steals the taste in your mouth and replaces it with himself, steals your hearing with his pants and grunts, steals your sight as his cock twists your insides up, and steals your ability to feel anything but him. He steals your breath, too. Just as a wicked little souvenir.
“Hhh—fuck, Taehyun, holy shit,” you say. A procession of crude and mewled cries come tumbling out your mouth after your words. No matter now you filter your sounds to try and maintain your decency, he just drags them from you anyway.
Bringing his hand up to splay his hand over the entirety of the back of your head rather than the delicate back of your neck, he grits out, “Filthy-fucking-mouth.” He punctuates the words with a hollow smack of his skin against your ass. It’s the sound of sex incarnate—your skin burns hearing it clashing against the rest of your debased sounds. “And it’s just for me, now. Isn’t that fucking great? None of those vile pigs are gonna touch what’s mine again. Not after this. You—” His voice tightens when a certain spot he nudges in your cunt sends it clinging to him and sucking him back in at every return. “You were really testing the limits to my patience. Do you know that?” He drags his hand over your face, smearing obscenity over you with just his tainted touch. “Of course you fucking don’t. You don’t notice shit. It’s why you let this world walk all over you. It’s why you need me.”
As hard and fast as he fucks you, he doesn’t exchange full strokes for it. He pulls completely out of you each time he snaps his hips back, and then meets your ass in burning collisions when he slips his cock right back into you. You struggle for breath, trying to feed your oxygen-starved brain to contend with his snarled preaching. Never once do you catch a full chest of air, though. It turns your thoughts liquid, stupid and simple. “Taehyun—Taehyun,” you say, throat tight. The sheets are stifling against your clammy skin, and the hair around your neck is damp. You take fistfuls of the bunches fabric and his other hand on your hip to ground yourself.
You are beyond grounding. All that floats in your head, one bare thought, is the beginnings of terrifying tightness in your lower belly. Only the sharpest things shove through the shadow permeating your mind. Nip. Bite. He drags his teeth over the soft curves of your shoulders and the expanse of your back. Anywhere he can reach, really. His mouth paints you in aching splotches—the kind that will speak of him should anybody other see your body. The kind that speaks already of who they belong to. You eyes and throat burn.
Taehyun brings that hand he’d been molding into the fat of your hip and curls the muscle-corder forearm across both of your hip bones. A bar. A cage. His solid chest works similarly as he blankets himself over you, speaking into your wild tousle of hair. “Fuck–Gonna cum now.” The friction of his cock against your walls becomes something more unpredictable. The tightening of that knot, just on the verge of a snap that might reverberate through you and crush you into nothing more than bitten flesh and eroded virtue, sits on the horizon. It’s a terrifying thing to be rushing toward. “A—and then they’ll realize that you’re mine. They’ll never put their goddamn hands on you again. Not when your body will have me written all over it.” You can hear the tightness of his gritted jaw, the words seething like black, festering corruption. They fall over your skin and taint you, too. No longer do you shake and tremble against him with innocent little squeaks. Gilt with his words as he speaks them, your body stiffens and your cries go hoarse and pitiful. You try not to think about how you sound. “Isn’t it so good? We’re perfect together. You’re perfect underneath me. Do you know how many—how many times I fucked my fist thinking about you like this? All I ever wanted was for you to realize that we are so much better than the rest of them. It’s always meant to be us. Why did you let them touch you? Dirty your skin?”
All you manage is a heaved cry. He pins you to the mattress and begins fucking you into it. In the black of your eyelids, you watch purity go to dust.
“Take my load, baby. Stay still,” he says. His voice goes soft, like whispers. Like he’s gotten everything he’s wanted, now.
You squirm beneath the weight of him, hips reining against the arm he holds you there by the hips with. Alarm bells ring, booming and thunderous, but in this state of mind, they sound like the music of climax. To the beat of the bells and his hips, blazing through your reddened bottom and your utter inability to breathe, you go tumbling toward that terrifying release.
Taehyun’s steadfast pace stutters. “It’s okay,” he tells you, clearing your clammy face of hair once more. His face is right in yours, his eyes heavy and consumptive. “Just let it happen. I’m gonna breed you up, and then it’ll be forever. We’ll be forever. Can’t let you get away again. Not when I’ve got you now. I need you to take it. Can you do that for me?”
Managing one last mhm, all your sounds catch in your throat. You stop meeting halfway, muscles twisting and turning and raging against the profound, terrible wash of it. Eyes flying open, your cunt clings to him, insides fluttering and rippling in a way that begins delightfully, but toes the line of dreadful as his cock continues to tighten them further. Lightning strikes from your core, crawling and crackling from it. It moves your thighs, convulsing them in tandem with the same release wreaking havoc in your stomach.
Cursing low in your ear, he fucks you frantically, fingers planted on your hips. His cock twitches against you a few times, and then the arm he’s supporting himself on collapses down to the elbow and he’s pinning you and shooting white-hot cum right into you. Your shoulder takes the imprint of his cheek as he nips the shoulder he hangs over. His hips twitch, rolling to ride out his high with deep, chesty groans, and then jumping up to spurt a little bit more into you. His panted breaths fall against your skin like fire.
You blink bleariness away from your eyes. For a few long minutes, that’s all you do. Your chest races so much so that you feel the pulse in your neck and the thumping of it where it rests. Your insides are liquid and intangible, blood slow just as slow as your thoughts.
When reality seeps back through your veins, though, Taehyun’s tugging his chest from your sweaty meeting of bodies. His fingers dig right into the reddened skin where his hips had abused your bottom to hold you open. To view you, and the slow oozing of his seed from your hole. The weight of his gaze sends you fluttering. With the movement of your hole, more of the hot and thickness comes seeping out, slow like molten passion down the shape of your slit and then over your clit and then dripping down onto the bed from you.
The feel of it has you swallowing hard. Holy shit, you are stupid. So painfully stupid. So, you’re just letting men cum inside while you’re not on birth control, now? Ones that you haven’t seen since school? Ones that talk like… that?
Tapping your thigh and pressing a hot kiss to your outer hip, Taehyun says, “I’m gonna go check the breakers. You take it easy here for a second.”
Whiplashed, you nod. There goes that pristine, normal mask again. You watch him go, heaving yourself up from the nasty bedding to be greeted by the musk of sex humid in the air. You think a thousand little thoughts, watching the wall as you go far away in your mind.
Everything that he said… That was not just a little weird, or a little kinky. It was bone-chilling. The taste in your mouth, still tainted by him, sours.
You pull out your phone. Pressing it to your ear, your blood runs sluggish still.
The cabin owner’s voice comes staticky through the speakers, asking you what you need help with. You ask about the power outage and where the breaker might be, debriefing him on Taehyun ending up here because he wasn’t able to make it to his own cabin, and how you think that the storm outside might be why the power’s gone out.
The cabin owner’s answer makes you pale.
It’s not a crashing realization. Not a thundering storm reaching its climax, nor a firework plasma and explosive at its center but flashy as it sparkles, nor a searing knife to the gut. It’s a slow, dreadful feeling, sinking to the depths of the ocean with a weight around your ankle and the realization that there is no getting back to the surface. It is drowning with water in your lungs, knowing that you swallowed that water down.
You know why you recognize that hand writing, and you know why Taehyun was missing his glasses, and you know why he had your number even though you have no connections, and you know why he was able to find your cabin by your car despite never having seen it, and you know why your friends never made it here. He, long and spindly legged, the spider, did not even panic when you grazed by the hints toward what he really was. You were all ready in his web, anyway. All he had to do was wait it out and watch you, caught, oblivious, squirm. And, squirm you did.
“What other cabin?”
﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist
✎୭ ashlynn's note AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! i’m sorry this one came out later, i had to make that ending tie up well.
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#꒰🥮꒱ ࣭ ٫ ashlynn’s twelve days of christmas#txt smut#txt fic#txt fanfic#txt hard thoughts#txt imagines#txt x reader#txt fanfiction#txt ff#yandere txt#yandere txt smut#txt hard hours#taehyun yandere#taehyun x reader#taehyun x you#taehyun fanfiction#taehyun fanfic#taehyun smut#taehyun ff#cold taehyun#yandere taehyun#yandere taehyun smut#kang taehyun smut#kang taehyun fanfic#yandere kpop smut#kpop smut#kpop ff#kpop fanfic#taehyun hard thoughts#taehyun hard hours
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Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining
I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~
Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one
TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out
🪽The King of Pining🪽
This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.
“So…what’s the news?” Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”
Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.
“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.
Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.
You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.
“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.
When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.
“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.
“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.
“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”
As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?
“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.
~night of the party~
You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…
A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.
“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.
Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.
Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.
From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.
With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.
“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.
“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”
Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.
Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.
“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”
Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.
The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.
Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.
“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“
You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.
Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.
Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.
With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.
Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.
“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.
“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.
#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer x reader#lucifer hazbin#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#lucifer x you#lucifer hazbin x reader#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin x you#hazbin x y/n#lucifer x y/n
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feral.
featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader
contains: college!Sukuna, established relationship, birth control tampering, unprotected s*x, noncon/dubcon, breeding k*nk, size k*nk, cunnilingus, multiple rounds, creampies, stalking, toxic behaviour
word count: 2.4k
note: all characters are aged up to 21+!
MDNI | 18+ content
series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral
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a/n: okay this is the actual final part!! tysm for all the love y'all have given this series, sukuna is truly one of my muses he's just so fucked up lmaooo
“Good news,” you say, beaming. “No more condoms!”
Ryomen Sukuna’s head snaps up from where he was lazing on the couch, scrolling his phone.
“What?”
“No more condoms!” you repeat. “I switched to a different kind of pill, it won’t make me feel as bleh.”
Sukuna can only stare at you. You cross the living room and kneel beside him on the couch. He’s been so patient with you, so doting, you feel bad you changed up your birth control so suddenly last time. You reach across to run your fingers through his hair.
“I know you hated the condoms,” you say, an apologetic smile on your face.
“Stupid things,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning into your touch.
The two of you had only had sex once with a condom and it was obvious Sukuna was displeased. Since then, you’ve been sticking to hand and mouth activities, which is great but not enough forever.
“Well, I’m sorry,” you tell him. “We don’t need to use them anymore.”
You lean across to press a kiss against his lips.
“I missed you, ‘Kuna,” you tell him softly, your eyes glancing down pointedly. “All of you.”
A grin crawls across his face as he kisses you back.
“You still have me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here.”
Truthfully, Sukuna’s been slipping you sleeping pills every couple of nights, taking his fill of you without a condom. You wake up every so often a bit achy and sore but Sukuna’s careful to clean up after himself, never leaving a trace, so you don’t pay it much mind. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s happy to keep doting on you, knowing he’s spilling his seed unprotected in you without you even knowing.
He slipped you the morning after pill the first couple of times but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of getting you pregnant. Your needy little pussy so eager for his cum, fucking his load into you until it takes. The idea was intoxicating. So he stopped spiking your coffee with the morning after pill. All he needs to do now is wait.
Until you interrupt his plans again.
Sukuna waits until you’re out of the house before he starts rifling through the bathroom cabinets. He finds your new pills quickly, a few of them already popped. He regards them with disgust. Just another barrier between you.
He takes a picture of them, making a note of the name and brand. After some difficult searching and a trip to the dark web, Sukuna finds someone who’ll send out several identical boxes, except filled with sugar pills instead. With a grin, he orders them.
Sukuna has to spend a few days finishing inside you knowing you’re still protected, waiting for the fake pills to arrive. He knows you’d get suspicious if he refrained from sex – it’s Sukuna, after all – so he fucks you the way you want, the thought of the prize at the end keeping him going.
You return home one day to see Sukuna with your favourite flowers, the lights turned low, and a smile on his face. Your sweet boyfriend.
You remember what you thought of him before you got together – an arrogant fuckboy would be putting it lightly. What should have been a quick, albeit satisfying, one night stand has somehow turned into the most loving relationship you’ve ever had.
You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deep, your tongue flicking over his. He’s been in a semi-bad mood ever since you said you were switching pills but he seems to have gotten over it, returning to the gruff but loving guy you know.
“I love you, baby,” Sukuna mumbles into your mouth. “Get on the bed.”
He doesn’t give you time to respond before he carries you through to the bedroom himself. You’re used to this, being manhandled by Sukuna, so you only giggle as he throws you onto the bed. He reaches under your skirt to tug off your panties before crawling between your legs.
Sukuna inhales the scent of you. You smell so dark and sweet, it’s like you’re custom built to turn him on. Ever since the night he broke into your room to taste you as you slept, he hasn’t been able to stop tasting you. You often find yourself in the middle of tasks, cooking or studying, interrupted by Sukuna nudging his face between your legs to lap at you.
Sukuna wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, his tongue parting your folds. You’re already glistening for him, so ready for him, and he loves that about you. Loves that he can take you whenever he wants, your pussy just waiting for him. You taste even better now that he knows you’ve been on the fake birth control pills for a week now, your scent somehow more powerful now he knows you’re unprotected, ready for his seed.
He groans into your pussy at the thought, his cock already throbbing. He licks a fat stripe along your lips before prodding at your entrance, lapping at your sweet honey. His nose nudges your clit, making you groan and card your fingers through his hair. You’d grind against him if you could, if his grip allowed you, but you’re no match for Sukuna’s strength. He always holds you in place, holds you exactly where he wants to.
Sukuna eats your pussy selfishly, the way he enjoys it rather than you – your pleasure being a nice bonus but not always necessary. His thick tongue slides in and out of your hole, gathering as much of your slick as possible, and you have to whine for him to please, please lick your clit. As usual, he brings you to the brink but doesn’t take you over unless you beg him.
Sukuna latches onto your clit, sucking it with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. His tongue swipes over the sensitive bud as he sucks and your whole body would buck if he wasn’t pinning you down so tightly. You moan and writhe as you come undone on his tongue, Sukuna licking up your juices as they run down his chin. He only pulls away when he’s painfully hard, needing to feel you around him before he bursts.
Sukuna quickly positions himself, slinging your ankles up over his shoulders as he aligns with your sopping cunt. He pushes himself in, feeling the fat head of his cock pop inside you before several more inches follow. You cry out his name, digging your nails into his forearm.
He normally goes slower than this, normally lets you adjust. But when you look up at him, Sukuna’s eyes are feral. Something instinctual has taken over him, has made him desperate to rut into you.
“S-Sukuna,” you whimper. “P-please… slower…”
A muscle bounces in his jaw but he obliges, the sound of your begging appeasing him. He doesn’t push any deeper but instead fucks you with shallow thrusts, only going halfway down his shaft.
It feels like your needy pussy is sucking him in, despite your pleading, and Sukuna has to fight to restrain himself. Your sweet, fertile womb is waiting for him and there’s nothing he wants more than to coat it with his cum.
But he does love you. He loves you so much. He doesn’t want to hurt you, not really, not when you’re whimpering so sweetly for him, your nails digging into him so desperately. So he rocks his hips, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for the wince on your face to turn to pleasure, before he sinks himself deeper.
“Ah, fuck… that’s it…” Sukuna half sighs, half grunts as he bottoms out. “Who’s pussy is this?”
“Y-yours, Sukuna,” you moan.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You, Sukuna!”
“Say it.”
“I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your brain foggy with lust.
Sukuna’s pushing you to the brink again, his thick cock pistoning in and out of you as he rubs against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna feels you cream on his cock, helpless to it, your body not your own.
As you moan and mewl, Sukuna looks down at you and pictures you pregnant with his child. He imagines your swollen belly, how your heavy breasts will sway, how you’ll be with him forever.
His forever.
It’s enough to finish him. Sukuna groans long and low, sinking inside you as he spurts load after load into your womb. He fills you to the brim, his orgasm so powerful he falls onto his arms, muscles shaking.
He’s still inside you as he kisses you roughly, unlike the sweet, deep kisses he usually gives you after sex. You kiss him back but it’s only when you feel his hips rock again, his length still inside you that you realise he’s not done.
“’Kuna…?”
Sukuna ignores you as he pulls out long enough to flip you onto your stomach. He pushes your leg up, bending it at the knee to give him better access as he slides himself into you again.
You gasp as your tender pussy is violated, your hands splayed out as Sukuna pins your down with his body weight. He’s still fully hard, his girth hitting a new angle as he fucks his load back into you.
“S-Sukuna…” you whimper. “M’sore!”
“Quiet,” he commands you, voice rough. “I can feel how fucking wet you are so be a good little slut and let me finish.”
Sukuna’s harsh voice silences you as you bury your face into the pillow, hands fisting the bed sheets. He’s right – you’re tender but you’re still enjoying it, your pussy drooling around his cock. His cum is only making you sloppier, only making it easier for him to fuck you. So you stay quiet, softly whimpering into the pillow.
Sukuna continues fucking you, the feel of your plush walls still so tight around him and the lewd squelch of your sopping pussy making his second orgasm build quickly. He wants to fuck as much cum in you as he can, wants to fill your womb with it.
The fact that you’re unaware, still thinking you’re protected, is a delicious bonus. A thrill runs up his spine as he thinks about how you’re letting him fuck you, letting him cum inside you, when you never would if you knew.
If you only knew.
You lay there, legs nearly numb and body drained of any energy, as Sukuna continues to saw in and out of you. You feel one of his large hands scoop under your hip, lifting you slightly so he can go deeper. Sukuna handles you like you’re just a hole for him to fuck and you realise the thought makes you even wetter. Your walls are so sensitive, each stroke feels like fire through your body, half pleasure and half pain.
Your abused pussy clenches involuntarily around Sukuna's girth as he forces a orgasm from you, his hips snapping against your ass at a brutal pace.
Having you in this position reminds Sukuna of every night he’s fucked you while you’re asleep, your body limp and pliant, just waiting to be moved to his liking. Except this time he's fucked you into submission, his own personal little fucktoy.
“Fuck…” he mutters, his cock swelling. “You’re such a good girl for me. You’re so fucking good.”
He’s so close. Your pussy feels too warm and soft, too greedy for his cum for him to last any longer. Sukuna grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fucks into you. His balls tighten at his approaching orgasm and you can hear his moans behind you, his cock nearly overly sensitive.
You’re almost relieved as you feel his hot cum spill inside you, Sukuna’s thrusts slowing as his cock throws thick ropes of his sticky seed in your womb. Your breathing is ragged, your face streaked with tears you didn’t realise you were crying.
Sukuna pulls out of you but stays where he is, breathing hard. After a moment, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t help myself. You just felt so good.”
Sukuna smooths his hand across your back, pressing more gentle kisses against your neck and shoulder. You let him, blinking away the last of the tears.
“I love you,” Sukuna says quietly.
You roll over to face him, wincing at the tender ache between your legs.
“I love you too,” you whisper.
Sukuna kisses you again, the way you remember, soft and deep. You want to ask what came over him but when he tells you he’s going to clean you up and run you a hot bath, you decide you don’t mind.
True to his word, Sukuna gently cleans you before leaving you to soak in the bath. He offers to stay with you but you insist you want to sit alone for a while, peppering him with reassuring kisses. And you do sit alone for a while, for a few minutes.
Quietly, you climb out of the bath and open the cabinet to find your birth control pills. You check you’ve taken the dummy pills Sukuna got you before putting them back in the cabinet. You sink silently to your knees and carefully lift one of the tiles on the bathroom floor. Sitting there are your real birth control pills.
You pop one free, swallowing it quickly before putting it back, replacing the tile without making a sound. You climb back into the bath slowly so you don’t splash before lying back again, relaxing.
You first discovered Sukuna’s sleeping pills when he was out collecting your favourite takeout some weeks ago. You figured that was the reason you were waking up some mornings with a familiar ache.
You discovered the tracking app on your phone the morning after Sukuna had installed it and had spotted him following at a distance behind you some days. So you gave him what he wanted – you made sure he saw you ignored other men and you never lied about your location.
You got your own set of morning after pills once you found the sleeping pills, knowing immediately what Sukuna was up to. He might think you’re unprotected, might fuck you like you are, but only you know that’s not true.
You close your eyes, enjoying the soak of the hot water. You know Sukuna does this because he loves you. Because he’s obsessed with you. You like that he's rough with you you, that he loves you so much he stalks you, that he wants to get you pregnant so he'll never lose you.
You love him just as much back. Your sweet, doting boyfriend who thinks he knows everything about you, who thinks he’s the one in control.
Your smirk to yourself.
If only he knew.
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New Year's Eve - Yungi (Special)
Happy New Year's Eve & Happy New Year, sweethearts! 🎆
pairing: ceo!mingi x model f!reader x manager!yunho
genre: 18+, filth(ish)
summary: alcohol loosened your mouth a bit.. and your actions had gotten bolder to the point you fucked both your ceo and manager. but fuck it, they were whipped for you anyways.
wc: 6.1k
warnings: ceo!mingi, co-ceo/manager!yunho, fashion model f!reader, alcohol involved (champagne and whisky), Mingi is damn wasted and desperate for reader, Yunho is more controlled but he's also done for, oral, double oral (mhm yes she takes em both hihi), soft deepthroating, soft hair pushing/face thrusting, making out, teasing, drunken confession, in my opinion Yunho could drink more than Mingi and Mingi would still be gone & wasted, oral sex (f), use of sex toys (vibrator), use of hand restraint (Yunho's belt), some praise sprinkles, double penetration, threesome, did I say Mingi is needy?, lots lots of cumm, overstimulation, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), unedited, might edit later, for sure forgot something.
Author's Note: I completely forgot to post this bro 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry I was out all day and night for nye and I completely forgot. But hey! It's spicy and I was like eh fuck it, no one would've read it exactly on nye soooo here it is finally! I hope everyone had a great if not wonderful time with their loved ones, doesn't matter friends, family or lovers ^^ Happy New Year, Happy 2025 and let's have fun together!!! Love you sweethearts 🤍
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.
The penthouse was a sight to behold, an epitome of luxury that only Mingi could pull off. The crystal-clear windows framed the city skyline, glittering with lights as the countdown to New Year’s Eve loomed closer. Inside, the space glowed with warm lighting and tasteful decor. The centerpiece of the evening was a bucket of expensive champagne chilling on the bar, a nod to the success of Mingi’s fashion empire and the new year that promised even greater heights.
Standing near the bar, Mingi adjusted his cufflinks, his sharp black suit fitting him like a second skin. He swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, glancing at the clock with a raised brow.
“Late as always,” he muttered, though a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
The soft chime of the elevator broke the silence. Mingi straightened, setting down his glass. The doors slid open, revealing Yunho first, his easy grin and sharp blazer exuding a casual confidence. But it was you who stole the show.
Dressed in a sleek, shimmery black dress that caught the light with every step, you walked out behind Yunho. The fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, the slit high enough to turn heads. In your hands, you held a bottle of champagne, a playful smile on your lips.
“We brought reinforcements!” you announced, holding the bottle up triumphantly as you walked toward Mingi.
“Fashionably late, I see,” Mingi teased, taking the champagne from you. His eyes lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “But I’ll forgive you. You look stunning.”
“Thanks, darling. It’s only fair to match the ambiance of your penthouse,” you replied, flashing a wink before slipping past him to the bar.
Yunho chuckled as he followed, setting his coat aside. “Don’t let her charm fool you, Mingi. She made me stop twice to check her hair on the way here.”
“I just like looking perfect. Is that a crime?” you quipped, settling onto one of the plush chairs near the fireplace.
The evening began with laughter, the champagne flowing freely as the three of you toasted to the successes of the past year. Mingi, ever the gracious host, ensured that your glasses were never empty. Yunho took the role of storyteller, regaling everyone with tales from childhood, including one about a particularly embarrassing moment involving Mingi and a failed attempt at skateboarding.
“Some things don’t need to be shared,” Mingi grumbled, but the fondness in his tone betrayed his irritation.
“Come on, it’s the last night of the year!” Yunho said, raising his glass. “We’re celebrating everything tonight—embarrassments included.”
You laughed, leaning closer to Mingi. “I think it’s endearing. Shows you’re not always perfect.”
“Oh, trust me,” Mingi replied, his voice low and smooth, “I’m far from perfect. But I’m close.”
As the night progressed and the champagne bottles were emptied, the atmosphere shifted subtly. The room was warmer, the laughter louder, and the touches lingered just a little longer. You found yourself seated between Mingi and Yunho on the large sectional, your legs tucked beneath you as you leaned toward Yunho, your hand resting lightly on his arm.
“So,” you began, your voice teasing, “what’s the plan for next year? More long meetings where you two bicker like an old married couple?”
Yunho groaned, tipping his head back. “You have no idea how much patience it takes to deal with this guy.”
“Me?” Mingi scoffed. “I’m the reason we’re successful. You’re just here for damage control.”
“And to manage your favorite model,” Yunho added, nudging you gently.
“Ah, yes. The face of the brand,” Mingi said, his gaze sliding to you. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You flatter me,” you said, feigning humility.
“Only when it’s true,” Mingi replied, his tone dipping into something softer, something that made your cheeks warm.
It wasn’t long before the champagne had taken its toll. The three of you were sprawled comfortably, the city outside sparkling brighter as midnight approached. You stretched, your dress riding up slightly as you did. Neither Mingi nor Yunho missed it, though they both tried to be discreet.
Feeling bold, you leaned against Yunho, your fingers toying with the lapel of his blazer. “You know,” you said, your voice a little too sweet, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh-oh,” Yunho teased, his brow arching. “This is either going to be genius or chaos.”
You smirked, your fingers trailing up his chest. “Don’t you think we’ve been a little... too professional all this time?”
Mingi, sipping his drink, choked slightly and glanced at you with wide eyes. Yunho froze, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air.
“Excuse me?” Yunho finally said, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
You tilted your head, your gaze meeting his with a challenge. “You heard me, sweetie.”
“Sweetie?” Mingi echoed, setting his glass down. “Oh, she’s bold tonight.”
“You’re drunk,” Yunho said, though his eyes darkened just a fraction as you moved closer, climbing and settling yourself on his lap without hesitation.
“Maybe,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck, “but I’m also right.”
“Weren’t we keeping this professional?” Yunho asked, his hands instinctively settling on your waist.
“Maybe we’ve been too professional,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his ear.
The tension in the room thickened. Mingi leaned back in his seat, watching with raised brows and a barely concealed grin.
“Well?” Mingi drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Are you going to let her get away with this, Yunho?”
Yunho groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though his hands tightened their grip on your waist.
“And you love it,” you shot back, brushing your nose against his.
With a resigned sigh and a muttered curse, Yunho pulled you closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. Mingi let out a low whistle.
“Happy New Year to me,” Mingi said, raising his glass. “This is better than fireworks.”
Yunho froze for a moment, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breath mingling with yours. It took a second for the haze of alcohol and your boldness to fully register in his mind. But when your hips shifted against him again, pressing closer, the wet heat seeping through the fabric of your panties and onto his pants, a low growl escaped his throat.
It wasn’t just teasing anymore.
“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with tension. His hands tightened their grip on your waist, his knuckles whitening as he tried to steady himself. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”
You tilted your head, a mischievous grin on your lips as you leaned in, brushing your nose against his. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”
Yunho’s restraint cracked. His lips crashed against yours, firm and commanding, like months of held-back desire spilling out all at once. The kiss was nothing short of a claim, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and the sound that rumbled from his chest sent a thrill through you.
Your hips shifted again, pressing against him instinctively, and Yunho let out a sharp breath, breaking the kiss for just a moment. “Y/N,” he said again, this time almost a warning, but his voice betrayed the edge of a groan.
Your arousal was soaking through your dress, dampening his pants, and the sensation only made the heat between you more unbearable. Yunho’s lips found yours again, rougher this time, as if he couldn’t help himself.
From across the couch, Mingi watched the scene unfold, frozen in place. He’d tried to stay calm, to play the role of the disinterested observer. But as your hips shifted again on Yunho’s lap, the way your dress clung to you and the damp fabric hinted at just how affected you were—it was too much.
Mingi shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the tightness in his pants now impossible to ignore. He cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself discreetly, but the movement caught Yunho’s attention.
Breaking the kiss, Yunho rested his forehead against yours for a moment, catching his breath before glancing over at Mingi. His sharp eyes took in the way Mingi was shifting, his jaw tight and his glass held a little too firmly. A smirk played on Yunho’s lips as he spoke.
“So,” Yunho drawled, his voice thick and teasing, “she’s not the only one excited here.”
You blinked, momentarily dazed from the kiss, but when the meaning registered, your eyes darted to Mingi. The sight of him—tense, clearly aroused despite his attempt at composure—sent a flush up your neck.
Mingi scoffed, his voice rough as he tore his gaze away from you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered, though even he didn’t sound convinced.
You smirked, turning back to Yunho. “What can I say? Guess I have that effect.”
Yunho chuckled, his hands sliding possessively up your sides. “That, you do,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver through you.
Mingi stood abruptly as he made his way to the bar. He poured himself another drink with more force than necessary, trying to shake the images from his mind. The heat radiating from where you and Yunho sat was unbearable, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away completely.
“I need another drink,” he announced, his tone clipped.
Yunho’s smirk widened as he turned back to you, his fingers brushing along the edge of your dress. “I think we’re making him uncomfortable,” he teased.
You laughed softly, leaning closer to Yunho. “Good,” you said, your voice a sultry whisper.
Mingi clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his glass as the tension in the room grew thicker, almost suffocating.
The air in the penthouse was thick with tension, the kind that made your heart race and every movement feel electrified. Yunho’s hands lingered on your waist as you leaned back slightly, his lap still warm beneath you. Your eyes flicked to Mingi, who was pouring himself another drink with a little too much focus, his jaw tight and his posture tense.
You smirked.
“Don’t think I forgot about you, darling,” you said, your voice smooth and teasing.
Mingi froze for a split second, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at you over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.
Slowly, deliberately, you slid off Yunho’s lap, your movements fluid and calculated. For a moment, Yunho’s hands tightened on your hips, reluctant to let you go, but he released you with a low hum of curiosity.
You stood, adjusting your dress with a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes catching briefly on the evidence of your effect on Yunho—the bulge pressing against his slacks, darkened slightly where your arousal had soaked through. The sight sent a thrill down your spine, your confidence swelling as you turned your attention to Mingi.
He was pretending to be unaffected, his focus on the drink he was pouring, but his shoulders were tense, and his grip on the glass was just a bit too firm. You sauntered toward him, your heels clicking softly against the floor.
“Mingi,” you said sweetly, standing just close enough that he could feel your presence.
“What?” he replied, his voice clipped, though he didn’t turn around.
You reached out, your fingers trailing lightly up his back and over his shoulder. The touch made him stiffen slightly, and you smiled, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him.
Your hand slid up his chest, fingers teasing over the fine fabric of his suit jacket, and his eyes finally met yours. There was heat there, barely restrained, as if he were trying desperately to keep some semblance of control.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and laced with warning.
You tilted your head, your hand drifting lower, over his stomach and down toward his belt. “What do you think I’m doing?” you asked innocently, your fingers brushing against the obvious bulge straining against his slacks.
Mingi flinched slightly at the contact, his breath hitching as his free hand shot out to grab your wrist. “Careful,” he said, his tone dark and edged with tension. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you leaned in closer, your lips just a breath away from his ear. “Oh, I think I do,” you whispered.
Before Mingi could respond, Yunho’s hands appeared on your waist, his warm touch grounding and electrifying all at once. His chest pressed lightly against your back, and his voice was a low rumble as he addressed Mingi.
“What do you think we should do with her?” Yunho asked, his tone teasing but his grip firm.
Mingi’s jaw clenched, his eyes darting between you and Yunho as if trying to gauge the situation.
You, however, didn’t hesitate. Turning your head slightly, you met Yunho’s gaze with boldness, then looked back at Mingi.
“I want both of you,” you said bluntly, your voice steady and unwavering.
The statement hung in the air like a firework, bursting with heat and possibility. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly around your wrist, and Yunho’s grip on your waist became more possessive.
“Is that so?” Yunho murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver through you.
Mingi let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “You really are something else,” he muttered, though the tension in his voice hinted at something deeper.
“And you love it,” you said, throwing the words back at him with a sly smile.
You leaned closer to Mingi, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you as you arched your back slightly, pressing yourself against him. The contact was electrifying, your hips moving just enough to graze against the hardness straining in his slacks. Mingi’s jaw tightened, his grip on your wrist faltering for just a moment before he caught himself, his sharp intake of breath betraying his composure.
“Y/N,” he warned, though his voice was shaky, the restraint in it fraying at the edges.
Before he could say anything else, Yunho’s hands slid over your waist, his touch firm and grounding, yet possessive. His chest pressed against your back, and the warmth of his body seeped into you, making you feel caught between the two of them in the most delicious way.
Yunho leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and husky. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to us right now,” he murmured.
You smirked, glancing back at him. “Don’t I?”
His eyes were dark, sultry, and filled with desire as he looked down at you. The alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue, but his confession came with a weight that made your breath hitch.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a damn long time,” he admitted, his voice raw with honesty and hunger. “Every time you walked into the room, every time you gave me that little bratty attitude of yours, I wanted to take you apart.”
The words hung in the air, making your heart race. Mingi stiffened, his jaw clenching as he turned his head slightly to glance at Yunho.
“And Mingi,” Yunho continued, his tone teasing now, “he’s just as bad. Wanted you just as much. But he’s a pussy and never said anything about it.”
Your lips parted slightly, stunned by Yunho’s bluntness, though a flicker of amusement danced in your eyes as you turned to Mingi. “Is that true?” you teased, your voice lilting and playful, though the weight of Yunho’s words lingered in the air.
Mingi’s gaze darkened, his restraint snapping as the last thread of control unraveled. His hand released your wrist, and in a swift motion, he grabbed your waist with both hands, pulling you against him. The force of it made you gasp, and before you could process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly and placed you on the bar counter.
His body caged yours, his hands firm on either side of you as his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent a thrill through you. “You want the truth?” he asked, his voice low and dangerously controlled.
You nodded, your confidence faltering slightly under his piercing gaze.
“The truth,” Mingi said, his voice rough as his hands slid up your thighs, “is that I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into my office. But I kept my mouth shut because I thought it was the professional thing to do.” His hands tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you shiver. “And now, here you are, making it impossible to hold back.”
Before you could respond, Mingi’s lips crashed against yours, his kiss searing and commanding, leaving no room for argument. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he claimed you with a fervor that made your head spin.
Yunho’s hands never left your waist, his presence behind you a constant reminder that this was far from over. His low chuckle filled your ears as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your other ear. “Told you he wanted it,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath heavy and his eyes searching yours. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice rough and barely controlled.
You nodded, breathless. “Yes,” you whispered.
“Good,” Mingi replied, his voice firm as he pulled you back in for another kiss, his grip on you unwavering.
Yunho’s breath was hot on your ear as he leaned in, his hands still resting on your waist. His voice was husky, full of that delicious edge that only alcohol and desire could bring.
"Should we take this further?" he asked, the words slow and deliberate. "But I can't guarantee you'll be able to walk tomorrow. You might even forget how to be that bratty little thing you are the next day."
Your heart raced at his words, a wicked little smile curling on your lips as you glanced at Mingi. His gaze was fixed on you, dark with desire, and for a moment, it was clear neither of them had any intention of backing down.
Mingi, too drunk to process his thoughts fully, stood without a word, the hunger in his eyes evident as he moved toward you. Before you could even protest, he swept you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly, his body pressing against yours.
Yunho, eyes never leaving you, followed behind him as Mingi made his way toward the bedroom, his hands tightening around you as he carefully but urgently laid you down on the bed. The movement was smooth, deliberate, like he couldn't wait another second.
The bed shifted beneath you, and you could feel the heat radiating from Mingi as he straightened up. His fingers fumbled briefly with the buttons of his shirt, the fabric falling away from his body, revealing the toned chest you had been imagining for so long. Then, with a look that bordered between hunger and need, he took off his pants, standing tall over you.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away, and you noticed Yunho following his lead, his eyes darkened and filled with a similar urgency. The way they both moved, as if they were drawn to you like magnets, made your heart race even faster. He'd only taken his shirt off, his patience running thin.
But then, it was your turn.
Yunho moved closer to the bed, and with a surprising tenderness, his hands brushed over your sides, gently lifting your dress over your head. The way he undressed you wasn’t rushed or forceful. Instead, it was slow, almost reverent, as if you were something rare, something to be cherished.
You shivered under their gaze, the anticipation in the air thickening as Mingi and Yunho marveled at you. The delicate black lingerie that enveloped your body seemed to shimmer in the soft lighting, contrasting beautifully against your skin. Both men were momentarily frozen in awe, their gazes roaming over you with admiration and wonder.
"You’re…" Mingi started, his voice barely above a whisper, but the word hung in the air—unable to fully capture the intensity of what he was feeling.
Yunho’s lips parted slightly, his hand resting on the bed beside you as he took in the sight. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice thick with desire, a soft smile pulling at his lips.
“I've never wanted to fuck you so bad until now… but that can wait, for a moment” Mingi said, eyes roaming over yours.
The room was softly lit, the golden glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Yunho stood near the bed, his tall frame calm and composed, while Mingi leaned casually against the dresser, his grin wide and easy, though the flush of alcohol in his system was evident in the slight sway of his movements.
—
“You know,” Yunho began, his voice smooth and steady despite the faint tint of tipsiness in his cheeks, “I think it’d be better if your hands were tied. Might make things easier for you to focus.”
His eyes flickered toward the leather belt at his waist. He slowly unbuckled it, the metallic clink of the buckle filling the quiet room. His movements were deliberate, giving you plenty of time to object if you wanted to.
You nodded, your pulse quickening at the anticipation in the air. Turning around, you felt the edge of the bed press against the backs of your thighs as Yunho stepped closer.
“Hands behind your back,” he instructed, his voice gentle but firm.
You complied, feeling the smooth leather loop around your wrists. Yunho’s fingers brushed against your skin as he secured the belt—not too tight, just enough to restrict your movement without causing discomfort. “Let me know if this is too much,” he murmured, testing the knot before stepping back to admire his work.
“Perfect,” he said, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.
Mingi let out a low chuckle, his gaze flickering between the two of you. “Yunho, you’re too good at this,” he teased, his voice slightly slurred but playful.
“She makes it easy,” Yunho shot back with a smirk, gesturing for you to kneel on the edge of the bed. The soft fabric of the comforter brushed against your knees as you adjusted your position, your bound hands resting lightly against your lower back.
The two of them moved to stand in front of you, their towering frames blocking out the dim light. Yunho was the first to step forward, his hand cupping your jaw as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “Start with me,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek.
And you knew exactly what he meant.
You leaned forward, your movements deliberate, as you traced your tongue om his cock, from the base to the leaking tip. Yunho’s breathing hitched slightly, his calm composure wavering as his hand slid to the back of your neck. His touch was firm, guiding you but never forcing.
Beside him, Mingi watched intently, his fingers twitching as if itching to join in. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his usual boldness softened by the alcohol coursing through his system.
After a moment, Yunho gently pulled back, his hand lingering on your shoulder as he stepped aside. “Your turn,” he said, nodding toward Mingi.
Mingi wasted no time, stepping closer with a lazy grin. “Been waiting for this,” he said, his voice low and teasing. His hand tangled lightly in your hair, his touch less controlled than Yunho’s but no less careful. He let out a shaky exhale as you leaned into him, his body visibly reacting to your efforts. Your lips sucked on his tip, drawing out whines and soft moans from his rising chest.
The energy shifted as you alternated between them, the rhythm fluid and unspoken. Yunho’s steady presence contrasted with Mingi’s more erratic responses, creating a dynamic that kept you on your toes.
Then came the moment they had both clearly been waiting for. Yunho’s hand brushed against Mingi’s shoulder as they exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.
“You think you can handle both of us?” Yunho asked, his tone a mix of challenge and encouragement.
You nodded, your confidence growing as they moved closer, their proximity forcing them to stand shoulder to shoulder. Yunho tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “Take your time,” he said, his voice steady.
You started slowly, focusing on one and then the other, testing your limits as you adjusted to the new feeling.. of taking both cocks at the same time. Their reactions were immediate and visceral—Yunho’s quiet groans mingling with Mingi’s more vocal appreciation.
As you began to take them both simultaneously, the intensity in the room shifted. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly in your hair, his usual bravado replaced with quiet murmurs of encouragement. Yunho’s breathing grew heavier, his hand steadying you as he guided the rhythm. Their cocks rubbing together in your mouth as you sucked both off, the stretch you felt in the corner of your lips making your eyes tear up.
Mingi was the first to test boundaries. He softly thrusted in your mouth. The feeling of hitting the back of your throat made him cum instantly, a string of curses escaping his mouth at the surprise of his fast release. Mingi pulled out and caught his breath as Yunho took full control of your head, his cock filling your mouth nicely. As you bobbed your head on his cock, your tongue licking the shaft as you sucked him off, it drove him fucking insane. You sucked harshly on the tip and pressed your tongue into it as he came in your mouth, the smirk in his fafe telling you everything you had to know. He gestured you to swallow everything, a satisfied hum filling the air.
When Yunho finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, and the room was thick with lust. He leaned down, his fingers deftly undoing the belt around your wrists. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.
You nodded, a tired but content smile spreading across your face. Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his usual boldness tempered by the quiet intimacy of the moment.
—
His lips curved into a sly grin as he got up in a rush and knelt between your thighs, his large hands gently pressing them apart. “I think it’s time we really spoil her,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
Beside you, Yunho got up from the bed to rummage in one of the bed drawers, taking out a small vibrator. He turned it on, the faint hum of the toy adding an edge to the already charged atmosphere. “Relax for us,” he said, his tone calm but firm.
Mingi wasted no time, his warm breath brushing against your clit before his mouth followed. The first touch of his tongue was soft and deliberate, a slow, wet stroke that sent shivers down your spine. He took his time, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of you, finding the spots that made you gasp and lingered there.
Yunho watched intently, his sharp eyes taking in every reaction. “She’s already responding so well,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He lowered the toy closer to where Mingi’s mouth worked, the anticipation building with every inch.
The first contact of the vibrator was light, teasing—a gentle buzz that sent jolts of pleasure through you. Mingi adjusted his rhythm immediately, his tongue working in perfect harmony with the toy. He alternated between firm, focused licks and softer, swirling motions, his hands gripping your thighs tighter to keep you steady.
“Good girl,” Yunho said softly, his deep voice grounding you as the sensations began to build. “Let us take care of you.”
Mingi hummed in agreement, the vibration of his voice adding another layer of stimulation. He angled his head slightly, his tongue flicking in quick, precise strokes that made your hips jerk against him. “She tastes so good,” he muttered, his words muffled but filled with genuine appreciation.
Yunho increased the intensity of the toy slightly, the buzzing growing sharper as he pressed it closer to your clit. The combination was overwhelming—Mingi’s hot, wet tongue moving with purpose, and the relentless vibration of the toy pushing you closer to the edge.
“Hold her still,” Yunho said, his hand pressing gently against your lower stomach to keep you steady as your body began to tremble.
Mingi glanced up briefly, his lips slick and his grin wicked. “She’s close, isn’t she?” he said, his voice low and rough. Without waiting for a response, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster and firmer, as though determined to push you over the edge.
The pressure in your core built to a crescendo, every nerve alight as the sensations became too much to bear. Yunho adjusted the toy one final time, hitting the perfect spot just as Mingi sucked lightly, his tongue swirling in tight, focused circles.
Your orgasm hit like a wave, your body arching as pleasure surged through you. Mingi didn’t stop, his tongue easing you through the intensity while Yunho pulled the toy back slightly, letting the vibrations fade as you came down from the peak.
“Breathe,” Yunho said, his tone gentle but steady as he rubbed soothing circles on your hip.
Mingi pressed a final kiss against your inner thigh before sitting back, his grin smug but affectionate. “Told you we’d make it good,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
You managed a shaky laugh, your body still trembling slightly. “You weren’t kidding,” you said, your voice breathless but full of satisfaction.
Yunho leaned over to untie the belt from your wrists, his touch careful as he massaged the faint marks left behind. “Next time,” he said with a smirk, “maybe we’ll let you be in charge.”
Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “If she can still move after this,” he joked, his voice light.
—
The room was warm, the three of you still catching your breath as the quiet tension settled. Mingi stirred first again, his sex drive being overly high when he’s drunk, sitting up with a groan, his hand raking through his messy hair as his gaze locked onto you. His eyes were dark and needy, roaming over you like he couldn’t get enough.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice shaky but insistent. “Can I ask you something? Please.”
You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your expression as your heart raced. “Of course,” you replied softly.
He leaned closer, his hands finding your thighs and gripping them firmly, his touch hot and possessive. “I—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing. “I want you. Both of us. Together. I’ve been wanting this for so fucking long.” His hands slid up slightly, his thumbs brushing your skin. “Please tell me I can have you. I won’t stop thinking about it until I hear you say it.”
Before you could answer, Yunho let out a low chuckle, his smirk teasing but edged with something darker. “Mingi, come on,” he said, though there was an unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. “Give her a second to breathe, man. You’re drunk. Don’t push her.” His eyes flickered to you, meeting your gaze as he softened slightly, though his intentions were clear.
Mingi’s jaw tightened, but there was a flash of something softer in his eyes as he glanced back at you. “I just… I need to know,” he muttered, his voice husky. “Please, I want this so badly.”
You felt your heart flutter at the desperation in his voice. You reached out and cupped his cheek, leaning closer. “I do,” you said, your voice steady, yet filled with longing. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I want both of you.”
Mingi’s face softened, the tension easing from his body as he let out a deep, relieved breath. “I’ve wanted this for damn long…,” he repeated, his voice raw with need.
Yunho leaned back slightly, his eyes tracing the curve of your body before returning to Mingi. “You’ve been waiting forever, huh?” he teased, the playful edge in his voice not hiding the hunger in his gaze. “Seems like it’s time we make this happen then.”
Without another word, Yunho’s hands slid under your arms, pulling you into his lap with a smooth, practiced motion. His grip on your hips was firm as he steadied you against him. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, his tone softer than before but still filled with something deeper. “Relax, sweetheart.”
Behind you, Mingi’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer, his touch needy and urgent. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his lips brushing your neck as his hands slid lower. “How long I’ve wanted to make you ours.”
Yunho chuckled softly, his voice low and teasing as he pressed his lips to your temple. “She knows now,” he said, though the underlying hunger in his tone made it clear that he wasn’t backing down.
“She’s ours now,” Mingi growled, his fingers gripping your hips possessively.
Yunho’s fingers tightened on your hips as his gaze turned darker, more focused. “Ours, huh?” he muttered, the teasing gone from his voice now. “Then let’s see if she can handle both of us.”
Yunho, the ever composed one even if he drank as much as Mingi, lifted you up slowly and lowered you even slower on his cock, letting you adjust to his huge size. Mingi did the same but more urgently, he got closer to you, his hands roaming on your body as they settled on your waist and lowered your ass on his cock. You moaned softly at the sensation of being so stretched out, arching your back against Mingi.
“Damn she's taking us good…” Yunho groaned, starting to thrust up and down slowly. Mingi did the same, trying to be in sync with Yunho as he buried his face in the nape of your neck, his vocal self never faltering as he whined and groaned out with every thrust of his. Your hands were straddling Yunho's shoulders, steadying yourself while bouncing up and down on both men. It felt so good, so full and so hot.. to be fucked by both. The alcohol in your bloodstream only made it even better. You were not drunk, no… tipsy? Yes. But it only made it better.. the fact that your words were loosened and actions bolder meant everything to you as you've been trying to make a move on them since forever.
Though, Mingi… felt exactly the same. Only that he was gone for, needy and practically begging for you to move more above him.
“P-please, y/n..” he whined in your ear, turning you in even more.
Yunho looked at Mingi and giggled, his words eliciting, “just do whatever, she's all in for it.. just look at her, taking us so damn good. Tell me sweetie, do you want us to fill you both? Hm?” he said as one of his hands rode up your body and stopped on your breast, playing with your nipple.
“Ah, Y-yunho!” you whimpered out when he pinched it.
“Say it, sweetie. I need to know..”
“Y-yes… for fucks sake, please..” you pleaded, both men pounding into you more fiercely when hearing your words.
“Mhm, that's more like it…” and his thrusts started getting deeper, sloppier and wilder.
Both men's hands gripped your waist and thighs down, pushing you on their cocks only to make you take them deeper.
Within a few thrust Mingi couldn't help himself anymore and came, filling you up with his huge load of cum. He's followed by you, your inner walls clenching harshly on Yunho's cock, soft cries and moans escaping your rapidly rising chest.
His eyes widened in surprise and he came, basically being rushed to by your needy cunt. He fucked you thru your and his orgasm as Mingi had done the same and they slowly rode their highs, slowing down and eventually lifting you up and laying you on the ruined bedsheets.
“Wow… that was..” Yunho started, but you continued.
“Fucking hot.” you chuckled out, your legs trembling and head dizzy from all the action. Both men laid on each of your side and caught their breaths.
“We shoulda done this sooner.. I never thought it woulda been this amazing.” Mingi said, his words slurred.
“Well.. That was a damn Happy New Year for me.. for us” you said and the two men laughed softly, embracing you in a warm hug.
NETWORKS:
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#ateez fanfic#illusionnet#blossomnet#ateez x reader#mingi s dimples masterlist#ateez fic#ateez x y/n#fanfic#ateez#smut fic#ateez smut#smut#yunho x you#ateez yunho#yunho x reader#yunho smut#mingi x reader#mingi smut#ateez smut mingi#yungi x reader#yungi fic#yungi smut
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man. still have NOT managed to get my hands on the book of bill because it's sold out literally everywhere over here, but have any of you seen the new 'how not to draw' vid on the disney youtube channel that features bill? it really got me thinking.
notes: fourth wall breaking, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, implied sexual content, implied mind control
it's heavily implied that the video takes place in a world where gravity falls is supposedly fictional, like our own. bill literally says he's going to break the fourth wall! because i'm a sucker for fourth wall breaks and characters being aware of their own fandom (to an extent), i simply just HAD to run with this scenario.
i just like the idea of 'you' being just a person, some totally, in the large scheme of things, insignificant human walking the earth. you have a tendency for escapism, perhaps. you have always been drawn to stories. you like gravity falls. maybe it was something you watched while you were younger and recently rewatched, or an interest that had never waned. regardless, bill cipher, charismatic and unapologetically evil villain that he is, is one of your favourites.
you doodle him on the edges of paper when you're supposed to be doing anything else. (regardless of anyone's artistic skills, it's not difficult to draw a triangle with a top hat and an eye, is it?) and in this world, you are hardly the only one who likes him, who, perhaps, ships himself with him, who thinks about him a lot. who makes drawings and writes or reads fic. you don't think it's all that unusual.
in a stroke of luck or, depending on how you look at it, the exact opposite, the universe's idea of a cosmic joke, you are the one to catch bill's eye. (it's, after all, much easier to infiltrate the dreams of someone who already has you on their mind. makes sense, doesn't it? a tentative, wavering link had been formed already.) there, in your dreams, he tells you what to say--triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium. meteforis venetisarium--and the next morning, you remember it clear as a memory.
you do it. for funsies. why wouldn't you? you don't expect it to actually work. he's a fictional interdimensional demon. why would it work? but much to your surprise, and horror, because surely a screw must've gotten loose for this to be happening, one of your little doodles has life blown to it. as a response to your summon, a tiny little bill cipher darts across your paper, alive but still confined.
(you've given him an in. now, he only has to take the crack you've opened for him, dig his fingers in, and tear it open.)
oh, he'll be funny! he'll be exactly what you thought of him. perhaps he even voices a line of dialogue you swore you wrote down somewhere days prior. yes, he's read whatever you wrote or read, whatever you looked at. he's keeping it himself for now. it's not easy to inflate his ego further, but you might have succeeded. rather than a meatbag, bill first looks upon you with the eye of someone presented with a puppy. fundamentally lesser, but capable of being something with the right training.
he urges you to make a deal with him and the promise he'll act out whatever fantasy you've been cooking up in that brain of yours, even if it's gross and weird and physically impossible!
he'll warp your dimension to make all of it possible!!! it's great!!! don't worry about it!!!!!!
…you don't do it. you don't touch the paper. you've seen the show, and you aren't stupid. bill nearly balks. he'd expected you to be the easiest mark of all time, but he suppose he forgot that even puppies have teeth. that's fine. he can work with this. because even though you have not let him in yet, and you refuse to shake his hand through the paper, you don't seperate yourself from him just yet.
you could oh so easily take the piece of paper he's on and throw it in the nearest shredder. or set him on fire. in you, he recognises lingering curiosity, and the excitement at having stood out, at being chosen, in one way or another. it's not hopeless yet.
he can play a bit of a longer game, then. he's been at this for a long, long time. he'll tolerate the paper he's on being folded into a little square and tucked into your breast pocket, granting him a view of your life and the world you're living in. (all the time, his hunger grows.) your decision not to throw him away ends up being your downfall. spending so much time with bill, letting him joke around with you, complaining about your problems… it takes a while for you to realise that, for a while now, he has not been speaking out loud anymore, but instead through your mind.
a connection that cannot be cut has been formed in between two of you.
on bill's part, he had thorougly expected to be bored. but perhaps it's your genuine interest in him, not the things he's offering, which he does not often see. (he's been down this road before. won't end well. but...) the sheer mundanity of your life that makes him wish he could twist and turn it all around. or just a random alignment of the stars. the heart doesn't always follow logic. in this scenario, at some point, bill realises that he has become genuinely invested in you, too. and at that point, you'll never manage to slip away. he's already dug in his heels in your mind far enough. you had no adequate protection.
he still wants to take over your world. he still wants to escape the discomforting flatness of the paper you've summoned him in. but, perhaps, you two could share that meatsack of a body of yours, before things get that far.
#gravity falls x reader#bill cipher x reader#gf x reader#yandere x reader#yandere bill cipher x reader#yandere gravity falls#yandere gravity falls x reader#x reader#cw.mindcontrol
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dp x dc Chronos part 2
Part 1 and Part 3
The Justice League sat in the Watchtower, some of them at least. The meeting was meant to be a quick one, only certain members in attendance to make sure they were all on the same page after the debrief of the last mission. Not all of them were necessary and most were usually busy.
Today Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern were in the middle of wrapping things up when the alert sounded. The siren blared twice before the red lights in the corner of each room flashed in an emergency.
“What in the world…” Flash grumbled but was obviously the first to the controls to look for the problem. None of the main alarms had been triggered, none of the doors messed with. No unusual motion noted in parts of the station that were currently vacant. “Weird.”
“What is it?” Batman was next beside him, arms crossed as he peered at the screen with narrowed eyes.
“It’s the sensors.” Flash said. “We’re picking up some kind of interference.”
“Way up here? What kind?” Green Lantern asked, he’d moved to one of the wide windows of the viewing deck as if he would be able to see something approaching. As things were, there was nothing but the normal vastness of space with Earth to one side.
“No idea.” Flash said. “Never seen something like this before.”
“Any idea on a location?” Superman asked, appearing by Green Lantern’s side.
Flash just clucked his tongue, hitting buttons much faster than a normal person. It was almost an irritation that he had to wait for the computer to keep up with him. “I mean, there’s nothing exactly to track yet.”
“An anomaly then.” Wonder Woman said, leaning back against the conference table they’d all just been sitting around. “Something natural?”
“There’s nothing natural about this.” Batman said, tone skeptical as he gazed at the screens.
“Gonna side with that bat on this one.” Flash said, “It’s more like a warning before anything happens. Something setting off the sensors but nothing else? Feels like it was on purpose.”
Green Lantern rolled his eyes. “What, like something’s knocking before they make themselves known?”
Before anyone could even offer their opinion on what they thought of something so ridiculous, a spark of green ripped through the air like lightning. Just as quickly it spread out into an obvious portal. Every member of the Justice League sprang into position, circling the phenomenon to block it in from every direction. Things like this shouldn’t have been possible, but it wasn’t the first time an intruder had gotten creative to get inside the Watchtower.
Without any fanfare, a man stepped out. They presumed it was a man anyway. He was dressed in mostly shades of purple other than his leather boots and gloves. He was covered by a cloak and hood, but when he looked up, it was hard to say what about him was the most unsettling. The red eyes. The blue skin. The pendulum clock that set back into his chest so far that he could only be missing crucial organs.
“Who are you?” Superman demanded, quickly trying to assess if there would be a fight or not.
“How did you get here?” Batman said right after, gravel tone somehow more frightening because he was calm.
The intruder just gestured with his thumb at the portal behind him. “Thought it was rather obvious.”
“Your purpose?” Wonder Woman asked, looking relaxed but her body was tense and ready to react in a moments notice.
“My purpose?” He chuckled quietly. In his hand was a staff they’d almost missed before, the top of it cradling a clock. It seemed to be a theme given the number of watches and clocks he wore. “I’ve come to call in a favor. The Justice League owes me several.”
“We owe you? Ppfff. Yeah right. We don’t even know who you are.” Flash rolled his eyes.
The intruder turned to the Flash, his brow raised. “Speedster, with the amount of times you’ve dabbled in the time stream, you alone owe me your life a fair few times.”
“Time, huh?” Green Lantern looked him over. There were a lot of clocks... “Guess that’s your schtick.”
He chuckled again. “I go by many names, only one will be relevant to you today.” He turned his attention onto Wonder Woman who squared up under his gaze. If she was going to be his focus then she’d take him head on.
“And?” She arched a brow at him. “What name may we call you?”
He looked amused, red eyes filled with mirth. “You, Diana, may call me grandfather.”
The room stilled, the others looking around in varying degrees of confusion while Wonder Woman just paled.
“Chronos. God of time…” she muttered, making it very clear to the team what they were dealing with. A God.
“I go by master of time these days, but yes. I am that Chronos. I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn down but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.” Chronos said, the minute and hour hands on his staff moving strangely.
“You’re a god, and you come to us for help?” Batman asked, unimpressed no matter the glowers he was being sent by the others.
“You are the Justice League, aren’t you?” Chronos looked pleased. “Righting wrongs. Defending Earth. Justice is in the name and everything.”
He didn’t talk like a god. He didn’t even talk as formally as Wonder Woman herself tended to occasionally.
“Doing tasks for you is asking for trouble.” Wonder Woman muttered. She’d heard stories, so many stories.
Chronos shrugged. “Time is messy. Keeping it in line is difficult. Especially when there are those who mess with it who should not.” He was not above verbally throwing speedsters under the bus.
“What do you want?” Green Lantern asked, obviously suspicious but paying very close attention.
“Simple.” Chronos answered, still looking at his granddaughter. “You will take custody of your uncle for a time. He needs a safe place to rest and live.”
The silence that followed was loud, no one knowing what to make of that. Wonder Woman herself looked puzzled.
“Are you claiming a sibling of Zeus needs a babysitter?”
Chronos hummed. “He is my son though he holds no biological relation to your father, i suppose.”
“Then how is he her uncle?” Flash asked, with a hint of sass.
“You can ask Batman how it works.” Chronos mused, saying all he would say on the matter but that was enough.
Wonder Woman couldn’t fathom what kind of person her grandfather would see fit to adopt. “Are you going to tell me more?”
“Telling you more would imply you were agreeing to the task.”
She tsked. “None of your word games. I want to know what i could be walking into.”
Chronos never once looked threatened or put out, he did however, appear to look a few years older than he had when he’d first appeared. “He recently needed to be removed from his home for his safety. He can easily visit me but staying with me long term at this time is not beneficial to him for health reasons.”
Superman frowned. “Removed from his home? How old is he?”
“Sixteen. If that is all you need to know, i will fetch him. It may take some time for him to regain consciousness.” Chronos said.
“He’s been hurt?” Batman was frowning at the thought, looking more and more unhappy as the conversation progressed.
“I did say he was removed from his home.” Chronos said, almost flippantly as he stepped back into his glowing green portal. It remained open, everyone exchanging looks.
“Diana, is this a good idea?” Superman asked, willing to accept her judgment. Greek gods were more her wheelhouse.
“Chronos was a titan. Is a titan?” She frowned. “His power is immense for a being thought to be killed.”
“Something about him is off.” Batman agreed. “He was not worried at all. That is someone aware they have the upper hand.”
Wonder Woman just nodded her agreement. Chronos was the god of time. There was no telling what he knew. “I’ve never met him before.”
“Hell of a time for family reunions.” Flash snarked, heading back to the controls to see what readings they could get on the floating portal. It was obvious each of them wanted to study it in their own way. Scans and samples were first on their minds but it was clearly some kind of magic they weren’t familiar with.
It was almost a shame there wasn’t a single member from JLD currently in the Watchtower. They might have been able to provide answers.
Before much of anything could be done, Chronos returned, somehow looking several years younger than when he first appeared. In his arms was a lanky teen, cradled carefully as if he were fragile. He was equally a sight that left the League speechless. He wasn’t blue, in fact he looked more or less human other that the freckles that shined.
Superman was the one to immediately note they were constellation patterned.
His hair was a stark white that wisped and flowed as if he were under water. His clothes were strange, a detailed variation of an old hazmat suit, all done in black and white. Floating above his head was a crown that didn’t seem to know if it wanted to be on fire or covered in ice. It bobbed back and forth and even did a slow flip in the air but never left the area about the boy’s head.
When no one uttered a word, Chronos took that as permission to begin the introductions. “Diana, this is your uncle. Danny Phantom. Son of the Stars. The Personification of Balance. The Ghost King. High King of the Infinite Realm.”
“He’s a king?” Batman frowned. “He’s a boy.”
“He could be both, Bats. He’s got a crown.” Flash chuckled softly.
Chronos shared his amusement. “I did say he was only sixteen.” The god paused for a moment as the teen twisted in his arms, his face pressed against Chronos’ shoulder and a hand lightly pressed against the door of the clock embedded into the man’s chest.
The fact that, even asleep, the boy was comfortable in the gods arms didn’t go unnoticed.
“Is he injured?” Wonder Woman asked. They’d gone over this already but he didn’t look actively wounded. He seemed to be sleeping only.
Chronos grunted once. “One form heals faster than the other. He needs rest, ambient ectoplasm which he knows how to get on his own, and food. He can answer your questions if he feels like it.”
“If he feels like it?” Green Lantern frowned.
“He’s the King.” Chronos’ lips twitched in amusement again. “If he decides to tell you more, or seek help, that is his decision.”
“Seek help?” Batman’s eyes were narrowed. “Seek help for what?”
Chronos approached and shifted the teenager into Wonder Woman’s arms. His crown shifted back and forth but never left the teen. The grip he had on the god wasn’t noticed until he tried to pull away and Chronos needed to carefully extract the boy’s hand.
Ignoring Batman, he pressed on. “He’ll need to follow up with his doctor by the end of the week. He’ll know how to do that. If he doesn’t, his doctor will come to him. That should be incentive enough.”
“Does he know you’re dropping him off here?” Superman asked, brows knitted together in concern. The heroes had been expecting a fight, not to be handed a royal teen.
“He has a fondness for for space, so you might want to let him wake up here.” Chronos said instead, ignoring that question too. He was growing older again, a short, white beard starting to form.
“How long will he need to be in my care?” Wonder Woman asked, noting the boy weighed very little in her arms. In sleep his features were soft, hopefully he was as sweet as he looked.
“Good luck.” Chronos said, staff reappearing in his hand now, turning back to the portal without giving her an answer.
“Hey! Wait!” Flash yelled but for once, he was too slow, the god and the portal disappeared.
Five members of the Justice League just stood in a mild stupor, their attention shifting to the sleeping teen.
“Well…” Superman muttered.
Wonder Woman looked at the boy, floating hair and crown moving in tandem. “I’ll set him down. We’ll see if he can answer any of our questions when he wakes up.”
“You gonna call him Uncle Danny?” Flash asked, not bothering to hide his smile.
Wonder Woman just ignored him and turned to stride off towards the med-station. -------------------------
------------------------- No idea at all if i’ll continue this. If anyone else wants too, go for it. ^_^
@markus209
#dp x dc#dc x dp crossover#clockwork#justice league#Looks like Wonder Woman is Danny's guardian now#Danny Phantom#wonder woman
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BAD REPUTATION | LUKE CASTELLAN
BIG REPUTATION — CHAPTER 01
pairing luke castellan x fem!ares!reader
summary upon her arrival at camp half-blood, y/n quickly captures the attention of the gods and the heart of a certain brunette-haired boy.
author's note so excited to make this an official series! please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for bad reputation and other works featuring luke. this is going to be a mix of social media posts / short fics.
→ installment of this au read for context
As a child of Ares, you were stubborn, short-tempered, and walked around camp with a permanent angry resting face. At the same time, you were known to be loyal, protective, and funny. If being funny was the same thing as being sarcastic.
The younger campers were scared of you, the older ones around your age respected you, but everyone admired you in some way or another. If not for your excellent fighting skills, you had a demeanor that not even the gods above could ignore. The way you carried yourself was captivating, so much so that your father had claimed you within the first week of your arrival at camp, and ever since then, you had proven your worth to anyone that watched.
Perhaps one camper kept the closest eye on you, the curly-haired brunette boy did not believe in love, let alone love at first sight— not until he saw you. You and him had arrived at camp around the same time, but your paths did not cross until a Capture the Flag game weeks later, when you both happened to be on the same team.
Word had already gotten around about your talent with the spear. Clarisse had introduced the weapon to you, and you had caught on quickly. You were in the middle of fighting off multiple campers on the other team when Luke appeared beside you.
“Need a little help?” he asked.
“Nope, I got it under control.”
“Are you sure?”
Even though you were strong, it was still three against one.
You relented, “Fine.”
Luke chuckled, hopping in with his sword. You couldn’t help but admire him out of the corner of your eye, and you were glad that your helmet hid the expression on your face.
You had gone on to win that game and many others alongside each other, in an unspoken allyship. In time, both of your reputations had begun to precede you.
Each week, campers awaited to hear if they would be playing on the same team as you and Luke, and each week, they would be disappointed to hear otherwise. But your fighting skills were not the only topic of conversation, it was becoming abundantly obvious that a certain boy had fallen for you.
“Dude, what’s going on with you and Y/N?” Percy asked Luke over dinner one night.
“What do you mean?” Luke responded, still chewing on his food.
“Come on, you’re not exactly being stealthy about it.”
Luke laughed, “Yeah, alright, you got me.”
“So you do like her!”
“What? No, who said that?”
“You literally just admitted it.”
“I said, ‘you got me.’”
“Exactly, I figured it out. You have feelings for her,” Percy declared.
You happened to walk over at that moment, interrupting them. “Feelings for who?”
Luke coughed, allowing Percy to respond for him. “Uh, uhm… no one!”
“Percy, I literally heard you.” Even though he was one of the younger campers that you were close with, the blonde boy still found himself scared of you on occasions such as this one when you were staring at him dead in the eye.
“Sorry, Luke, you’re on your own for this one,” Percy blurted out before running away.
You turned towards Luke, who had since finished recovering from his coughing. He was nervously smiling at you, some color had slightly rushed into his cheeks.
“So, who’s the lucky girl?” you asked, smirking at him.
“Oh, you don’t know her,” he said, shaking his head.
“Are you sure? I feel like I know pretty much everyone here.”
“She…. uh… doesn’t go here.”
You couldn’t help but let out a suppressed laugh. “She doesn’t go here,” you repeated.
“Nope! I’m gonna go get some dessert.” With that, he left you alone at the table, quietly laughing to yourself.
You weren’t totally oblivious, you knew that you must have come up in conversation for the two boys to have behaved that way. However, you were content to see how far this would go, and how much teasing you could get away with before Luke got the courage to do anything about it.
Besides, you had a reputation to keep up, and being soft all of a sudden was not part of the plan.
#luke castellan#bad rep fic#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson series#percy jackson#pjo#charlie bushnell#charlie bushnell x reader#luke castellan imagine#percy jackson x reader#pjo x you#luke castellan x you
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Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: From Party of Two, to Family of Three
Sunday Surprise takes place right before this, but not necessary for this part
notes: you guys already know this is my favorite little crackhead family. While we've been enjoying Sarah's adventures out of order for a while, lot of people have been asking when we'll meet Ellie. Which I didn't feel it was right until we actually see Sarah's birth! So here she is. Please enjoy!
warnings: childbirth (not too graphic), a shit ton of language, comedy and fuff
- - - -
They say childbirth is a miracle. It's the single greatest, most amazing, most heavenly, life giving, breath of fresh air day of any parent’s life.
What they don't say (almost as if conveniently forgetting to even mention it) is that the moments leading up to the birth are the single most excruciating, marathon through the worst hell of a nightmare.
"YOUUU. YOUUUUUU MOTHER FUCKING--FUUCCKKEERRRR!!" The banshee (his wife, you) next to him in the car screeches directly into his ear, a death grip on his forearm.
He’s one handing these turns, blowing more red lights than he's ever yelled at Tommy for, while ready to lose his right hand to your talons and his hearing to your incessant wails.
"fuck YOU!OOOOWWAHAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
You squeeze your eyes shut, head crouched down while another wave of contractions splinters your insides apart. Every muscle known and unknown in your body is engaged.
"We're almost there, you’re gonna make it--"
"YouFUCKINGfuckSTICkofaFuCkFuckshitheadfuckingbastard mothershitstainfrigginFUCK!"
You'd bash his head against his window repeatedly if your other hand wasn't already occupied cupping your rupturing belly.
Joel’s never been simultaneously in control and losing it inside all at once. He’s got one goal right now: get you to the hospital in one piece.
That goes for driver safety but also to ensure the baby does NOT come out prior that because lord help him he would not know what comes next.
The truck screeches to a halt at the parking lot in 3 spaces. Joel tumbles out of the seat, missing a step and stumbling clumsily to his hands and knees on the pavement. He doesn’t even brush off the bruises and dirt as he’s running to you. You’ve nearly thrown him over again by how fast you swing the door open.
Both his sturdy, reliable, big hands are there for you when you take them, hoisting yourself with an agonizing yelp.
“You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, baby momma, you’re—“
“FUCK!!!!!”
You’re clutching your belly, now way lower than it ever has been. Each step feels like fire, with Joel cradling your back and trying to get you to the front door with quick steps.
“Baby! Baby now!” Joel shouts, pointing to you with wild and pleading eyes.
You let out a horrendous scream, stopping in your tracks. Your spine, your bones, your head, and especially your stomach, is all being hit by a truck right fucking now. And you’re crying, you’ve never cried like this. It’s not the fake shit he’s gotten so accustomed to when you want a cookie or milkshake or pussy eating. This is real.
They get you in a chair and wheel you off to the delivery unit, your hand squeezing the shit out of Joel’s but he’s never once let go. He’s gone so pale, running and running alongside you, trying to answer their questions about when it started, how long, what was due date, etc.
He’s doing a million things at once, and you’re just fighting to stay alive.
Oh, you also would forget everything you were saying at this moment. But thankfully, Joel, and the entire fucking hospital, wouldn’t.
“YOU FUCKING, COCK—FUCKER—SHIT FUCKCUnt cunt CUNT! FUCK-OHM Y MOTHERFUCKING GOD FUCK.”
They manage to get you stripped to the papery gown, push your ass onto the bed, spread you wide so the doctor can take a look.
They’re all so calm, walking around and nodding, hooking you up like you’re just here for a checkup, like they’ve done this a thousand times before.
Joel feels the worst stabbing pain along his skull as your nails dig into his hair and yank him down to your face.
“MILLER,” you seethe, venom and sweat breaking through your clenched teeth and slitted eyes.
“Y-yes?”
You force out harsh pants, groaning, but making sure he understands you clearly right fucking now. “Give me. A fucking. Epidural.”
“I-“
“NOW!!!!”
He looks around for some assistance. “Ep—is there an--”
“WHERES THE FUCKING EPIDURAL.”
Joel makes contact with the nurse, who checks below your legs again before resurfacing with the look Joel feared above all else. While you’re heaving and and moaning in pain, Joel receives the nonverbal confirmation she passes to him:
It’s too fucking late for an epidural.
Both Joel and the nurse also pass a clear, mutual understanding about how to pass that info on to you:
“ITS COMING!” He nods reassuringly to you, exceedingly over the top acting. “Right nurse? See she said it’s coming!”
“Any second now, we’ll get that epidural—“ she agrees, nodding and nodding with a thumbs up to you extra confidence.
“FUUUUCCCCKCKKKKKK,” you sink lower, back falling and head tossed as wave of new pain ripples through you.
“FUUCCKKING —Fuck J-Joel. Joel Miller—“
“yes baby, I’m here.”
“Im getting a fucking epidural.”
“Yes you fucking are.”
“You fuckers aren’t lying to me?”
Joel glances at the nurse again, who quickly shakes her head at you with her calm, straightforward, trusting voice of reason: “No ma’am we would never.”
Praise this woman, he thinks. “That’s right baby she’s telling ya, its coming—“
“I’ll FUCKING kill you, Joel Miller. Do you know that?”
“Yes-“
“I fucking HATE you right now.”
“Yes—“
“You shit—fuck bag motherfucker, I HATE you—you—you—“ and you start sobbing “—did this to me!”
“I did—“
“YOU!”
“ME.”
Back again to an angered, snarling beast, you growl, “I’ll rip your fucking cock off. I’m fucking you up so fucking bad when we get home, you can never FUCKIN’ do this fucking shit to me again. Balls in the fucking blender.”
“Balls in the blender,” he repeats with absolute conviction, not an ounce of protest in him.
“The FUCkING blender—you hear me fucker?”
“The fucking blender, for sure baby, anything you want right after this.”
“Ugh--oh dfuck Joel its coming!”
“Yeah?” He asks, and its the first time he hears his own voice waver. Holy fuck this is it. This is the moment for the last 9 months its actually here—
“Just another contraction,” the doctor confirms casually.
FUCK DOC HOW LONG DOES THIS TAKE I can’t feel my skull!
“CUNT SUCKER!” You scream, holding Joel’s head hostage as you chant through your breathing pants.
“Any where’s my MOTHERFUCKING epidural!”
“It’s coming! It’s coming!” Joel nods to his now best friend nurse, who’s also nodding dramatically to keep you distracted from the epidural that is absolutely not on its way.
“Miller,” you growl, shoving his nose right against yours. You stare into his very soul, like Death herself ripping his life choices out of his body and spilling them under your eyes. “I think that Bitch is lying to me. There’s no fucking epidural coming, is there.”
“There is, baby, she said it herself, I checked…”
“Are you fucking lying to me Miller?”
“Never baby, we’d never lie to you, right?” He gestures to the nurse again, who nods diligently again. “See baby, no lying, we’d never lie.”
He watches your jaw drop, voice disappear as another roar is ripped from your chest..
“I can’t do this.”
“You can, you can and will. I’ll give you anything you want, right after you do this.”
“I want you fucking DEAD.”
“Sure thing. Want a divorce too?”
“I’m CONSIDERING IT,” you bark a baritone lower like the devil. “FuuuUUUCCCKKKK!!!!!”
“I’ll get the papers printed right up. Favorite pen signed an’ all. But only after you have this baby tonight—“
The doctor checks the monitor again just as you let out a piercing scream.
“Ma’am it’s time to push.”
“YOU PUSH!” You shout, waving your arm at him but unable to put a curse to the end of it. Your pains are coming through quicker, no longer waves but an unyielding rumbling as the baby kicks and punches and squirms and—
Joel is by your side, taking your hand in his. He’s prepped this speech in his head a million times, every night, every time he felt that baby kick or watched you struggle to tie your shoes, every single second, he’s perfected it:
“It’s here. Its happening. You’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this together, you and me, right now—“
“Nope.”
“We—what?”
Your voice is calm and face plain. “Changed my mind. Not having this baby.”
“Yes you for fucking sure are.”
“Nope no. I’m returning it. Got the receipt.”
“There—there IS NO RECEIPT.”
“Yes—I got it—90 day warranty—“ your face tightens, clenching out the last word as if you’re mentally willing this baby to not pop out right now. But by god this baby is not taking your bullshit any longer.
“We are way past the 90 day warranty, honey, you’re having this baby, TODAY, Right NOW!”
“Nope, nope I’m gonna suck it back in!”
It seems all ability to ‘suck it back in’ has failed, as the nurse shouts clearly “I see a head!”
Your voice breaks in the most heart wrenching “I CAN’T—“ you sob, terror in your voice.
You scream again, and it’s the worst thing Joel’s ever heard. He feels like a kid again, for the first time in a long while, when his parents fought, and the sounds of their voices carried upstairs to his and Tommy’s bedroom. He wanted to run, hide in the closet, cover his ears, cradling himself and rock back and forth, shut his eyes and his mind out, drain everything away. Instead, he held Tommy, he watched Tommy, he calmed Tommy. He bared the brunt of it, and the fear, he learned to control it.
The control is gone. He’s fearing again. And it’s not his parents having an argument over watermelon seeds, but his wife experiencing the most unimaginable pain right now, and it’s because of him, it really is, just like you said. Worse than nails on a chalkboard, glass in his eyes, fire on his feet. He’s so scared, everything he had tried to train for, for you, for this moment, is collapsing before him, and he’s not gonna make it—
Every fiber in his body grips your hand more tightly than possible. “You can,” he says, sturdy yet trembling. He’s scared.
He’s always known what to do, what comes next, how to make your pain and sadness and tears go away. He’s perfected it, knowing what to get you or what to say to make it all better, but now? He doesn’t know what comes next. Doesn’t know how to make it stop, help you through it, take your worries and griefs—you’re on your own and he’s just next to you, and its not enough, and he can’t help, and he doesn’t know what to do—He doesn’t know what to do-Hedoesntknowwhattodo!
“Hey.”
He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder; the nurse who’s holding all the pieces of his heart and sanity together. She looks at him, focused, locked in from the moment your wailing, miserable self was wheeled in here, and has been doing everything he can’t.
“We’re right there. I need you to ground her,” she says. “Can you do that?”
He nods, tightening his lips. He remembers your hand in his now, remembers where he is, in this moment, and its all the matters.
He’s here. And he wants—needs you to know he’s not going anywhere.
He calls your name. “It’s time, okay baby?” Steady. Reassuring. Level headed. Strong. Rock. Crutch. Love. Everything he’s good at. Everything you know him by. “I need you to push.”
You shake your head again, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenching hard. But he nods, because he’s gonna do the nodding, and the yes’ing, and he’s gonna take everything that’s ever caused you wrong or pain or sadness away because it’s what he does.
It’s what makes him keep going.
“FUCK! MOTHER———MOTHERFUCKER!!!!AHHHHHHHHH!!”
“Keep going!” The nurse encourages. “Dad, you’re doing great, keep getting her to focus—“
“I’M NOT GETTING MY FUCKING EPIDURAL!!!!!!!!!!!!” You sob in finality, the truth seeping into your bones. “YOU FUCKING—MOTHERFUCKING CUNNT SHIT STICK LITTLE BI—“
“For Christ’s sake, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” The nurse howls, and the entire room goes silent, even you. Joel stares at her dumbfounded.
‘“The baby. Is HERE,” she huffs definitively.
“Now fucking—PUSH!”
-
Joel’s heart has stopped.
He doesn’t know where it is, but he knows it’s no longer in his body.
Its not until he hears the first, most beautifully devastating croak of an angelic cry that he’s felt his heartbeat resume again, and its being cradled gently by the nurse as she pulls the tiniest, wrinkliest, most precious thing on this planet from between your legs.
“Congratulations, mom and dad. A healthy, happy baby girl.”
There’s no way this little—thing—this… bean—can be a baby. It’s the size of both his hands together, and so incredibly delicate, my god, weighing almost nothing and yet the sheer weight of who she is has him nearly capsizing at this very moment.
She’s wrapped delicately in cloth, face and nostrils wiped of fluids before landing gracefully in your outstretched arms. And it’s like the cosmos has realigned in harmony.
No amount of sweat, tears, crazy hair and braised skin, torn clothing and achy muscles could possibly deter the absolute love bursting from your chest as you hold the tiny baby in your grasp. “Hi,” you whimper with a big smile, eyes floating in a shiny haze pf exhaustion and happiness, looking down upon her. “Hi baby girl.” you laugh, tears falling freely as you shake your head and hold her closer, as close as possible, reabsorbing her into your bare chest, and you feel it. Her skin on yours. You’ve carried her this entire time, and yet it’s like you’re feeling her for the first time in your life.
Joel curls next to you, his big palm splayed over top her whole body, touching her. And it’s the first time, the first time he’s felt his daughter. He had been separated by the membrane of your belly, anxiously, excitedly waiting all this time to meet her, and now she’s here. She’s here. Neither one of you can believe it.
Your little baby wiggles, cooing noise stuck in her throat as she settles from her cries. she’s so wrinkly, skin still absorbing all that fresh air, working color into those cheeks and hands, fingers and toes. Her eyes are too swollen, not yet ready to say hi to this world. But that’s okay. Because her mom and dad are still going to be right here when she wakes up, the first people who will introduce her to the world around her. Because she is their world.
“Joel,” you whisper softly. He hears you. He’s here. He hasn’t left your side once. You know he’s here, you’re grateful. He’s here. He loves you.
“Joel,” you hum again. “She’s beautiful.”
You tremble against him. Shaken from love and joy, more than your entire achy body can contain as you bring her little head to your lips and press the most fulfilling kiss to her.
Joel cups her little head. He wants to hold her, but he’s gotta wait. Fuck after all this time, he’s gotta wait. And it’s enough. He can handle it because he’s so fucking overwhelmed that she’s finally here.
“She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasps into your hair, kissing you tenderly.
Joel steps outside the room, softly closing the door behind him. He watches from the glass window pane, with you perfectly framed in the center as its only subject. Just the way he’s seen the world every day since he met you.
Only this time, you hold another part of you, and him, in your arms. The two of you, together. Like the only things that will ever matter to him.
And suddenly, Joel lets himself feel it all.
He clutches his mouth with the entirety of his palm, his yelp buzzing in his hoarse throat. He feels his knees give way, tumbling to the ground, one hand holding the wall while the other grips his face to keep the cries at bay. And he cries. He cries harder than he’s ever cried, and they’re wonderful. They hurt like kisses, burn like candy, ache like love.
He wants to go back in there.
Quickly wiping his face clean, he stands up, straightening himself.
“Hey.”
The nurse who had delivered his baby stands next to him.
“She did fantastic. You both did.”
Joel tries to clear his throat, but his face is so obviously still red, swollen and barely holding it together. She doesn’t question nor judge the tough guy facade, yet completely speaks to his soul, telling him everything he didn’t know he needed to hear. “She’s 7 pounds, 2 ounces. Ten fingers and toes. Brown eyes. Hearing is great, so is—“
“Thank you,” he interrupts.
She goes quiet but offers a gentle smile.
As he stares at her, the literal saint that got you and his baby through this, from point A to B, he realizes nothing is coming to his head.
“I’m sorry, I … I don’t even know your name.”
She laughs. “I would not expect you to. You had way more to worry about.”
“Well, I just … really, really wanted to say…. Thank you…”
“Sarah,” she responds.
“Sarah,” he repeats. He repeats it over and over again in his mind, as if its going to stick, and he doesn’t quite know why yet.
“I’ll give you two—three, some time together,” she says, gathering the checkerboard hanging by the wall. “Then I’ll be back to help get her ready to take home, and let your wife sleep some more.”
He nods, looking down then back up, just as she’s patting his shoulder reassuringly and turning away to attend her other duties.
-
When he steps back inside, you look up to him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he whispers back. Now that the dust has settled, he can finally see just how exhausted you are. The absolute train wreck that has battered your body this last hour really settling in, and it makes his chest sore to see you like that. Your gown pulled halfway down to your ribcage, tousled hair sticking awkwardly to your forehead and back from all the dried sweat. And yet none of it, absolutely nothing, is getting in the way of that smile that hasn’t left your cheeks since the moment you heard her cry.
“She’s sleeping,” you hum, looking back down at your daughter, who’s coddled up in a wrap and little cap.
“You thinking about putting the baby down, getting some sleep too?”
“Never.”
He smirks, looking down at her again.
“You think about any names yet?” You ask, stroking over her little forehead.
The two of you had thought about it. A lot. You didn’t want it to be random, but you didn’t want it to be weird. It had to have meaning, but not so closely related to a family member that you’d always mess them up at thanksgiving. It had to remind you of someone strong, unique, purposeful but distant enough that she could to grow and make it her own.
And this was a girl, after all, so it had to be someone that could put momma AND papa in their place whenever shit got too crazy.
“I’ve got…one.”
-
Joel helps dress the baby from her swaddled blanket into clothes.
“They’re gonna be a little bit big at first—“ you say, giggling as the two of you realize that the smallest clothes in the world are still a little too baggy on your little—so fucking little—girl.
Joel doesn’t waver, helping put her bitty legs through the loose pant legs…
You see him wipe his lips quickly, swallowing a lump to clear his throat.
“Joel, are you crying?”
“No,” he rasps like a whimper. “M’just sweatin’ through my eyes.”
You let out a chuckle, and Joel tries to do the same, but then he looks down at his little angel again, who’s stretching herself out in the new cloth that’s practically a giant coat on her. Joel starts to tremble. “She’s so perfect,” he weeps, and the shine in his eyes are clear as day.
“Oh baby, it’s okay to cry! I’m gonna cry too—“ you bawl, and now the two of you cry over this little girl who’s just trying to figure out why this blanket is stuck to her.
Not a great first impression from mom and dad but she’ll just have to deal with it.
And just like that, the Miller family went from party of two, to family of three.
-
6 weeks later…
The baby monitor crackles to life, and Joel is already tossing the blanket aside before the baby utters her first cry. He’s already up, kissing your forehead with “I’ll get her," almost excitedly through the heavy lull of sleep. You barely get a noise out of your throat, already snoring away into the pillow. He’s exhausted too, but his feet carry him onward with droopy eyes as if on their own.
He’s still not happy about the pink paint color of her bedroom, but that hardly matters right now. Terribly dramatic cries echo from the crib ahead. He scoops his little bean—since that’s what she looks like all curly in her onesie—supporting her head carefully and tucking her into one elbow.
He rocks her squirming, agitated body back and forth in one arm as he shakes the now warmed bottle in his other hand. Joel tries to get her screaming mouth to take the cap, but she shakes her head, avoiding him at all costs to her own detriment.
"Oh you’re such a squiggly girly for daddy. I got ya bubbas right here, quick ya cryin’. You’re gonna wake up mommy."
As if she understands how she wouldn’t want to cause YOU any problems, his baby stops crying and accepts the bottle between her lips. Once she finally has her snacking, she peacefully looks back up to him, studies him.
"There she is. Told ya." He grins, swaying back and forth as she stares back at him with those big beautiful brown eyes. You definitely got one of your wishes: Joel’s eyes. The rest of her, is yours.
He’s hypnotized, so in love with her he didn’t think it was possible to love something as much as you. He already knows he’s gonna get her the dog, the kitty, the pony, the car, credit card, dress, house, anything she points to really; he’s never going to be able to say no to those enchanting eyes.
All of her bitty fingers fist around Joel’s pointer, as if to anchor her, and she doesn't let go as she drinks safely.
She’s only 10 pounds now, but he feels like Atlas, carrying the entire weight of the world all curled up in his arms right now. Ans he'd carry this weight forever if he could, would pump iron and concrete slabs and oceans just to stay in shape and keep his girl in his arms for eternity, never to tire.
“My babygirl,” he whispers with a grin, pursing his lips close to her. “My little baby Sarah.”
- - - -
taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist @jeewrites
#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel dealing with preggo wife#joel miller fanfiction#last of us fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fluff#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us fluff#the last of us fic#last of us fic#joel miller fluff#joel miller fan fic
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Break up sex
Hyung Line x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Breaking up, Breakup sex, toxic friends, drinking, miss communication, jealousy,
Heeseung:
For the past week things between the two of you became more complicated as both of you had work that took up all of your time along with loss of communication.
The topic came up before but not as a full break up, you both were saying how you needed to take a break. Which it was good when you got back together but your relationship had been spiraling and not getting any better.
Not wanting to break his heart you told him you didn’t think your relationship was going to work out as you told him that you always will love him and never wanted this to happen but it was for the best.
• “Please don’t do this to me Y/n.”
• “Need you, please.”
• “Can I have you for one last time?”
• “I’m hoping this isn’t the last time we do this.”
• “Fuck Y/n.” as tears rolled down his face
• “Can’t live without you.”
Jay:
“Why are you always hanging out with him?!” he questioned as both walked into the house, rolling your eyes, you looked at him “because he’s my friend and you act like I don’t hangout with you, I do. You just love to nitpick everything I do with him!” he glared at you as your tone had risen to what it was before.
This wasn’t the first time Jay had gotten jealous of your guy friend, you asked why he bothered Jay so much which he never responded with.
As the relationship continued you started to notice how he would never let you hang out with other guys except him and occasionally his friends, even then it was hard to hangout with them without getting glanced at every minute to make sure you weren’t looking at them.
“Why can’t I be friends with guys?” “Why do you want to be friends with guys?” “What do you mean? Men are like half of the population, you just expect me to not talk to them for the rest of my life?!” He stayed silent, “If that’s how it is then I don’t think our relationship is going to work out, it’s not that i don’t wanna be in a relationship with you. I do but I can't have you constantly controlling me.” his silence continued with tears rolling down his cheeks.
• “I will always love you Y/n never forget that.”
• “You can always come back to me, I’ll be here.”
• “I wish I could stay inside you forever.”
• “Kiss me one more time before you go.”
Jake:
Talking about your problems in your relationship with him easily turns into a screaming match, most of them had to deal with lying, work, jealousy, drunkenness and a lot of other stupid things that happened revolving around you both.
The most recent one broke your heart to even think about, that night Jake had come home drunk as he kept repeating your insecurities saying how stupid they were and then agreeing with all of them.
Not wanting to hear him anymore you went into your room and started balling your eyes out as you just couldn’t put up with arguments like these when he wasn’t even in the right state of mind ruining your time with the one person who you truly loved.
Leaving the house you had put him to bed and left a note saying ‘call me when you wake up, we need to talk.’
The next morning he did exactly what you asked, “Is everything alright baby?” “I’m coming over.” you hung up the phone and made your way over.
You explained to him how you couldn’t watch your relationship just ease away from every single fight you guys got into, not to mention him not being sober to even understand half of them.
• “I’ll do whatever you need me to do, even if I have to leave you. I just want you to be happy.”
• “I don’t want you to go.”
• “I can change, I swear, please let me fix this.”
• “If you ever need my cock in you don’t hesitate, please.”
• “You won’t even have to look at me when we fuck, I just wanna be there for you. Not some other man.”
• “You feel so fucking good, can kiss you forever.”
Sunghoon:
Going over with your boyfriend to his friend's house was never your idea of fun, they would always find ways to pick on you and tell you that Sunghoon was way out of your league along with saying that you don’t deserve him.
Bringing it up to Sunghoon was the worst part bro wanting to hurt his feelings or break their friendship but you were just confused and upset at the way they had treated you.
When you brought it up he told you that it was their way of joking, believing him you returned to their house days later and they kept saying hurtful things to you along with hitting you and more.
You were too nervous to bring it up to Sunghoon but when you finally did he was confused at your sudden change in emotion towards his friend, he didn’t understand where you were coming from.
Proceeding to tell him that you didn’t want him to pick sides and give him some space but that ‘space’ turned into weeks, one more week later he texted you that he was ready but as he told you that he wanted to stay friends with his friend.
You told him that was okay and will always be here if he changes his mind but you would not be putting up with that abuse anymore, leading to you breaking up with him.
• “Please come back if you need to.”
• “Can I fuck you one last time before you leave?”
He would fuck you as tears streamed down his face
• “I don’t know what I'm going to do without you.”
• “Can I kiss you?”
• “I love you, always and forever.”
#smut#fluff#enha x reader#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#jungwon smut#sunghoon smut#jay smut#sunoo smut#jake smut#enhypen#enha
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matt rempe smut request istg he has the best the horniest mf
matt likes you catching him and watching him jerk off without interrupting him so its just you walking into his apartment and hear him groaning or like when he’s waiting for you in the car or in the shower obviously you get the pic but I feel like he’d think it’s such a power move to do that
Paring(s): Matt Rempe x fem!reader
Warnings: smut (18+), Masturbating (m), unprotected sex.
(Not edited)
Authors note: I had a lot of fun writing this. Sorry that it took so long. I hope you like it! @butmommyilovehim
check out my Masterlist. Also send in request! I had so much fun writing this one and would love to write more for you guys!
The things you do to me
_________________________________________________
Matt and you have been dating for about a year now and he does this thing. He’ll jerk off anytime of the day and anywhere whenever you are around him. He loves the idea of you finding him doing it, but also loves just being around you when he does do it.
He always has full control over the situation. Most of the time he does it to show you that you are his. When he is about to cum, he will hold you in place no matter what you’re doing and cum on you. letting out a grunt and a ‘Mine’ as he does it.
_________________________
Matt had invited you over to his apartment to hang out. Using the key that he gave to you unlock the door. When you entered it was unusually quiet. “Matt?” you call out. Why would he invite you over if he wasn’t going to be here, and why wouldn’t he let you know. You pull out your phone to check to see if he texted you, but you saw nothing.
A few seconds passed and you hear a moan come from his bedroom. You walk over to his room the door slightly open. You peek in to see him sitting on his bed his back against the headboard and his hand wrapped around his hard cock.
“Baby open the door so I can see you,” he says. You push the door open fully. you continue to watch his hand as it strokes his cock. His eyes never leave you. He watches as your lips fall into a little pout and how you shifted your legs to help relieve some of the tension that’s building between them. “Matty,” you let out a whine.
“Your being so good for me. Watching me like the good girl you are.” His hand now moving faster. His eyes never leaving yours. He lets out a few loud grunts as he cums onto his hand and stomach.
“Come here baby, let me help you out. I know that my girl is needy from watching me.” Your quick to move. Taking your shirt and pants off before getting on the bed and straddling Matts legs.
He grabs you chin with one hand, bringing you in for a harsh kiss as his other hand slips inside of your panties. His thumb finds your clit, you let out a gasp. Matt takes this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.
_________________________
You had spent the night at Matts apartment after one of his games. You didn’t do much, just spent the whole night cuddling and talking about the game. you woke up the next day later than you wanted to. It was almost one pm when you woke up. That meant that Matt should have just gotten home from practice.
The sound of the shower turning on confirmed that you were right about Matt being home. You get up and make your way into the bathroom to say hi to him. when you walked in you find him, he’s leaning on the counter, his arm keeping him up. His other hand is down his sweats pumping his cock.
“Kiss me baby.” He turns so his back is leaning against the counter now. Reaching out his non busy hand to you. You take his hand, and he pulls you in. He leans down to kiss you, his hand now on your ass, pulling you further into him so his leg was in between yours.
His one hand still pumping his cock, as he uses his other hand on your ass to pull you forward making you grind agist his leg. He lets out grunts moving his hand faster. He flips you both so your back is now against counter. He moves his sweats down just enough to pull his cock out.
He lifts the shirt that you were wearing so he could look at your tits. “You’re my good girl. So good to me. You all mine.” His head tips back, his mouth hung open as he lets out moans. The tip of his cock rubs against your stomach, making him rut against you so he could feel more pleasure.
“Fuck. Fuck. Your mine baby, remember that. Your mine, always mine.” He grunts as he reaches his orgasm. His cum now covering your stomach “I love you. my pretty girl.” He smiles at you as he pulls your shirt the rest of the way off and moves to pull your sleep shorts off. “Come get into the shower with me.” He kisses your lips then kisses his way down your neck. His lips wrap around your nipple as he pick you up so your legs now wrap around him.
_________________________
You and matt were going out with friends. It was a struggle to get him out of the door because he was trying to bend you over almost any surface that he could find. You realized you left something in up in his apartment, so you left him in the car to go get it.
It didn’t take long for you to get back to the car. “Okay baby. I’m ready if you are.” You say. finally, you look over at him and he’s already looking at you. You don’t realize what he’s doing till you look down and find his hand wrapped around his cock. “I don’t think you realize that you drive me funking crazy. All day every day, your all I can think about. I need you, right now.” You climb over the center console and sit in his lap, finally giving into what he wants.
The second you’re on his lap he attacks your neck, kissing from you jaw down to right above your boobs. “Your mine. Now move your panties to the side so I can fuck you.” You do what he says. Bunching up the dress and moving your panties. He brings his hand down and slides two fingers through your folds.
“So wet for me.” You don’t trust your voice, so you nod your head at his statement. He aligns himself and pushes in. His hands find your hips and he starts to help you bounce. It didn’t take long for either of you to reach your orgasm.
“Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up. Make you all nice and full for the rest of the night.” You could only let out a moan in response. His head drops to your shoulder. He bites at your neck to stop his moans from being too loud. Your orgasm followed right after his.
“My good girl. You did so good for me. You always do so good for me.” He grabs your chin and gives you a quick kiss on the lips, making you smile. You bring your head down into his chest as he plays with your hair. “You wouldn’t happen to have some makeup on you, would you? those marks are kind of noticeable.” He says. A small laugh leaving his throat. You climb back over the console and pull down the car mirror so you can see what he’s talking about.
There are three huge purple marks on your neck. “Matt. Oh my god. They are so going to say something.” You turn to look at him and he’s got a huge smirk on his face. “You’re a butthead. You’re going to owe me big time” you close the mirror and start the car so you can at least try to be on time to meet your friends.
#matt rempe smut#matt rempe fluff#matt re#rangers#new york rangers#matt rempe#matt rempe x reader#matt rempe imagine#matt rempe fic#hockey smut#smut
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I cannot stop thinking about Eddie calling you nicknames. Not even just the regular ones, like baby, honey, sweetheart, baby cakes, though those ones still make your heart race. Imagine the day he figures out you like other nicknames. And once he figures out one, he’s testing them all to see which one gets him the biggest response.
Imagine being at school, you’re sitting next to him in class and suddenly your teacher is calling on you to answer a question. You’re always fast to clam up when you’re called on but luckily this time you really did know the answer to whatever the teacher was asking. You give a clear, straight answer and your teacher commends you on your work, “Good work, y/n” and you just hear next to you, barely above a whisper “that’s my good girl”. You’re sure that you’re more red than a tomato.
Imagine you’re at hellfire club with everyone and you’re getting hyped up before a session and he is just sitting there in his chair, looking at you with big, bright eyes, noting how excited you seemed. When you take your seat next to him, he just comments “seems like my doll is ready to play. Let’s get started.” Again, you’re a mess and a half, red as can be but you’re still able to control yourself a bit.
The last straw is over the weekend, at a party at Steve’s with everyone around and you wish you could crawl into a hole when it happens. You’re having a great time, you’re chatting with the crew, Robin is sharing stories about this guy that came into the store today and was recommending the worst movies to her as though he had any taste. Everything was going really smoothly and then, Eddie comes over. He slides right next to you on the floor that you had been sat at in the circle. He’s laughing at something Robin said, placing a hand on your thigh and rubbing comforting circles to show his presence. He smells like weed, alcohol, and his cologne and you’re already gone. Then, knowing exactly what he’s doing, he just leans into your ear like he’s telling a secret - “hiya bunny, how’s my sweet baby doing?” and you all but whimper. Bunny. You don’t know why that’s gotten the reaction it did but you immediately regret it the moment it slipped. The music felt like it went quiet and you felt like you had multiple pairs of eyes on you. Eddie’s eyes look like a lightbulb just went off behind them.
“Ohhh what’s this, bunny? Do you like being called that?”
It’s the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol. It couldn’t possibly-
“Awe what’s wrong bunny? You embarrassed? Don’t be. This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. You’re so good to me, bunny, letting me know something like this”
You absent-mindedly are clenching and rubbing your thighs under his touch while he’s chuckling low and you wish you were anywhere else right now. You had been avoiding eye contact this entire time until he took your chin and jaw in your hand and with a gentle but firm touch, he turned your head towards him
“Just say the word, and we can get out of here baby. I’ll treat you like a good little bunny too. All you have to do is look at me in the eye, and say so.”
Before you can even respond, Robin let’s out a long sigh and groan “guys, come on, either get a room or get a clue”. You decide at this moment to finally look at Eddie. His eyes have a smirk behind them and you’re swimming in chocolate.
“Well sweetheart? What do you say?”
“i thought…” you weren’t sweetheart right now, you wanted the other name again. You needed to hear him say it again.
He lifts your chin up again to look at him, firmly
“Speak up, Princess? What do you want to do?”
“I want to be a good bunny-“ he’d be pulling you out the door in a spilt second and you know it.
I just- I want to be called names like that by this man so badly. And you KNOW he would.
#Eddie Munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things 4#nicknames#you KNOW he would talk to you so sweetly
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“For good this time.”
Five Hargreeves x gn!reader
Summary: You and Five barely escape a mission without more than a few scratches, and an argument forms between you two. An old argument. One you’ve had many times. This time, however… there’s a note of finality in his voice.
Word Count: 1278
TW: angst, shouting, brief mention of blood
Five and I blinked into the warehouse, breaths ragged as we tried to control the racing of our hearts.
“Jesus Christ,” I panted. “That was… close.”
“Too close,” he sighed, scanning the large room. “You shouldn’t have come along.”
I took in the room as well. It was blissfully empty, and absolutely silent besides the sounds of our voices. Boxes covered the smooth concrete floors, shelves separated sections of the space, and the ceilings stretched up high. At least we had plenty to hide behind if anyone found us.
“You were better off with me there,” I pointed out as my gaze returned to his. “Better two than one.”
His hair was mussed, his lip bleeding from having it busted earlier. Bits of blood smattered his clothing, and I could only assume I looked just as unkempt. Still, he always managed to look breathtakingly handsome no matter his condition.
“Dont lie to yourself,” he scoffed, bringing my focus back to the present. “If you weren’t there, I wouldn’t have had to worry about your safety.”
“If I wasn’t there, you would have gotten injured, Five.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Okay, that’s not okay! Getting hurt isn’t supposed to be normal!”
“But it is, y/n. Get that through your head.”
I groaned, scrubbing my hands over my face. “You’re so impossible! Look, can we just get out of here?”
Five was quiet for several moments, brows furrowing as a strange look came into his eye. I narrowed my eyes slightly.
“…what is it?”
“We could have died back there,” he muttered, “You could have died back there.”
“Yes,” I said slowly, “but we didn’t. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
“No, no…” he mumbled. “It’s not fine. This shouldn’t be happening. Why do you insist on making me drag you along for all this?”
“Wh—what are you talking about?” I asked in disbelief. “You’re not dragging me along, I’m coming willingly. Because I care about you and want to help you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
The simple words made me pause for a moment. I blinked at him. “Shouldn’t… what? Care about you?”
“Yeah,” he replied, as if it were obvious.
“That’s ridiculous,” I said with a small scoff, smiling. “News flash, it’s too late for that. We’ve gone through more than enough together.”
He didn’t return my smile, looking down as he kicked at the ground. “More than enough. Far more. I should have left a long time ago.”
My smile vanished, and it took me several seconds to find the right words. “You… you have left. But you came back. Because you’ve realised that we’re better together than we are apart.”
He shook his head again, turning away. “I haven’t realised anything. I’ve just been too easy to sway. Too weak.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” I protested.
“I’m done letting you convince me to endanger you again,” he continued, ignoring me. “I’m done with it. All of it. I…” he turned to settle his green gaze on me. “I’m leaving for good this time.”
“You’re always leaving me, Five!” I hissed, starting to feel sick.
“I should never have stayed, y/n, that’s the problem!” He exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. “I gave you far too much opportunity to get attached.”
“For me to get attached? Just me? Never you, right?” I hissed.
“That’s not what I meant,” he began, wincing.
“But that’s what you said.”
“Okay, y/n, look,” he began to pace. “I thought you would have understood this by now. Understood me.”
I felt panicked tears began to burn in my eyes. “What is there to understand? That you’re too scared to commit to anything? That you can’t take responsibility for your actions?”
“That everything is temporary. That everything is fleeting, and things change, people change. Whatever’s happening between us… it’s just… one of those things.”
I froze, lips parted slightly as I stared at him. He didn’t meet my gaze.
“One of those things…?” I echoed softly, then my voice increased in pain and outrage. “One of those things? So all the late nights were ‘one of those things?’ All the things you said were ‘one of those things?’ All the moments we shared were ‘one of those things?’ Just something else for you to move on from? Forget about?”
“Never forget about,” he snapped, stalking towards me. “Say whatever you want, yell at me until your voice is raw. But never assume that I’d forget everything.”
“Then why are you trying to leave it all behind?” I asked desperately, the first tear beginning to roll down my cheek.
His voice wavered for a moment as he stepped away. “Isn’t it obvious? You never would have gotten hurt if it wasn’t for me. You never would have been in danger.”
“I don’t care about any of that!” I exclaimed.
“Well I do!” he snapped. “You could have lived a perfectly safe, normal life if it wasn’t for me!”
“It’s too late for that.” Desperation was clawing at me. I needed him to understand. I was running out of time.
“No, it’s not.” A pained smile found its way to his face. “I’m going to make sure nothing else ever happens to you.”
“No,” I breathed.
“I’m going to make sure you’re never in danger because of me again.”
“Stop it,” I choked on the words.
“I’m going to leave,” he said, speaking over my increasingly loud protests. “And I’m never coming back. And if you ever, ever try to find me, or any of my siblings, rest assured it will not end well for you. Got it?”
“No, Five, I don’t ‘got it!’” I screamed.
“Well, you better learn to.”
I saw tears glisten in his eyes as he tried to smile. It failed, and he rolled his shoulders, preparing to blink out as quickly as possible. I screamed his name, launching myself at him as quickly as I could. But my arms closed on empty air, and I hit the ground, pain shooting through my wrists as my hands slammed down first. He’d been too quick. I’d been too slow.
“Five!” I screamed again, a shudder wracking through my body. My tears fell more frequently now, staining my shirt and the ground below me. I gasped for breath, hardly able to breathe as wave after wave of desperation and grief washed over me. My sobs seemed to echo through the warehouse, nothing but deafening silence responding.
It wasn’t the first time we argued. It wasn’t the first time he tried to distance himself. But this was… different. He never sounded so sure of himself. He never had that look in his eye. He never… he never left me here like this.
There was some part of me that knew this was the last time. That I’d never speak to him again. That I’d never see him again. See his smug grins. See the way his eyes glinted when someone ticked him off. Hear his voice. Those rare, precious laughs. Feel the reverence each time he touched me, as if he were scared of breaking me.
If only he knew the exact opposite would be what truly made me break.
I wasn’t sure how long I stayed in that warehouse. My hands and knees had grown cold as the chill of the smooth concrete floor seeped into my skin. Even once my tears had dried, I shook as I stared at the ground, so full of emotion that I became numb to everything. I waited to hear footsteps. To hear a voice. His voice.
The loud ringing in my ears was all that kept me company.
#five hargreeves#five tua#tua five#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagine#number five x reader#five x reader#five x you#five x y/n#five hargreeves x you#five hargreeves oneshot#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy#the umbrella academy imagine#the umbrella academy x reader#tua x reader#five hargreeves fanfic#umbrella academy x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#angst
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spiderman!rindou x reader
note: i imagined spiderman rindou would have a black suit with hints of purple so i described it as such here
rindou was fighting a bunch of random delinquents when he got bit by the radioactive spider, ran wasn't around so he was lowkey struggling on his own. the spider had descended onto his neck and tried to bite him, but he gets thrown by the gang's leader and the spider flies off of him. it crawled back to rindou while he's being punched into the ground—it got sent flying off again when rindou flipped him and his opponent over. some god out there was starting to question if spider-rindou is truly the fate of this universe.
rindou was locking his opponent's joints when he finally got bit. he felt a sting on his hand, and retracted it out of instinct. well, he tried to. he tried and he failed, his hand was stuck holding the guy's wrist.
"the hell are you doing?!"
"i don't have a clue either, dammit!"
the rest of the guys watched as rindou squirmed around weirdly with their leader. at some point, rindou successfully tore himself off of the guy but a different guy approached him, finding the chance to beat him up. rindou had noticed and he tried using his hand to shove him in the face, but it gets stuck... again.
the fight ended with the other delinquents trying to pull rindou off of everyone. they were no longer fighting and they all just wanted to get out of this sticky situation (pun very much intended).
rindou walked back home, stressed. his head was spinning and he stumbled into a wall to hold himself up for balance. he vividly remembered an old lady coming up to him, asking if he was alright. he had told her he was fine, and he realized he was stuck again when his hands wouldn't come off the wall. he's trying so hard to play it cool and shoo her away so she doesn't notice, but he found himself feeling oddly relaxed by the old lady's genuine concern. it was only then his hands came peeling off the wall.
he accidentally broke the bathroom door when he got home and ran was pissed but let's not talk about that.
rindou learned to live with his new abilities for a while. he tested his limits, standing on his ceiling, shooting webs, jumping from building to building, and lifting heavier weights. he first found out he could shoot webs when he tried (gently) waking ran up for lunch, only to be met with a pillow thrown at him. but when he instinctively tried to catch it, webs came out, pushing the pillow back against a wall. his face at the time was priceless, eyes wider than tennis balls, jaw on the floor as he slowly glances over at ran to make sure he's asleep before rushing over to remove the webs.
when he found out about the web shooting, he started getting a little concerned. so he walked back to the spot where the fight occured whilst trying to remember anything weird that happened. he finally put two and two together when he saw a dead spider lying near a trash can.
at times, he took advantage of this new strength and he had gotten better at controlling his powers. he was a lot stronger in fights now and he can take on way more people on his own, ran doesn't get a chance to lift a finger. rindou's senses are immaculate now, and no one could ever sneak up from behind him anymore.
rindou was sick when he became a hero. like, literally he was sick. his throat was sore, his nose was stuffed, and his voice was goners. he was walking to class with a hoodie over his head and a mask covering only the bottom half of his face, so you could clearly see the moment his eyes widened when he sensed danger around the corner.
he saw a little boy getting grabbed by some monster villain who would later become his nemesis, and he didn't have time to think at that moment. his body moved on its own when he saved the boy. another boy—who looked a bit older—came running up to them, "thank you for saving my brother, nii-san!"
'brother...' the kid's words echoed in his head for a moment. and wow, that monster is getting way too close to his apartment building.
fuck.
rindou found himself fighting said monster for a while until it got away and he was panting by the end of it, covered in bruises you wouldn't normally see on him after an ordinary fight. he went home that day, treating his own wounds quietly so he wouldn't wake up ran.
the next day, rindou pushes himself to come to class. he thought if he had to take the day off, it would seem suspicious. but he doesn't regret coming to class at all. how could he when he sees you, his campus crush, walking up to him?
"hey, the professor assigned a project to work in pairs," you said, but he was barely paying any attention, everything about you was so distracting. you're quite literally the reason why he's not paying attention in class. "i didn't get a partner so that left me with you."
rindou feels like he's on cloud 9—he finally has an excuse to give you his number, his address, and–
"hello? you good?"
you snapped him back to reality and he cleared his throat (his voice was still raspy and cracked when he tried to answer). "uhuh, group project. i– i heard you."
"are you okay? were you on sick leave yesterday?" you asked, noticing his voice was on the verge of abandoning him.
"yeah," his voice cracked again, much to his dismay—but seeing you smile and hearing a little laugh escape your lips made it worth it. he cleared his throat, scratching his neck. "i'm fine now though, really."
rindou turned out to be very easy to communicate with and you discussed the project for a good two days. "why only two days?" you may be wondering. well, you don't know either. but you were being ghosted, that's for sure.
you gave him time to respond to your texts for another two days, but the deadline was approaching. you had no choice but to make more progress on your own. at some point, rindou finally responded and he managed to get some work done, but in the end, you did most of it. naturally, you'd want to know why, but he never gave you any solid excuses. "sorry, i've been busy," or "i don't think i can meet up today, something came up," he'd say every. single. time. you even tried asking one of his friends in class if he knew what he was up to, but he was none the wiser. you didn't miss the way he whispered to one of his friends, something along the lines of, "he's about to fumble so bad" as you walked out.
also, there's this 'spider-man' case you keep hearing about on the news whenever your dad turns on the tv. weird.
but anyway, time passes and it was finally the day of the presentation. rindou never showed up. so you presented it yourself, and you decided that you've had enough.
the door to his bedroom window opens slowly, a leg pokes in first as he squeezes through the small entrance.
"fucking finally," rindou mutters under his breath, wincing as he tugs the black mask off his head—the deep purple web lines glow faintly in his dimmed room. he carefully pulls down the top half of his suit, quiet groans escape and his face contorts as the material pulls away from his wounds.
"yeah. fucking finally, huh?"
rindou freezes, and the lights of his bedroom switch on.
"AAH—!" you both yell in unison, but for completely different reasons.
rindou's reason is obvious enough. "what the hell are you doing in my room?!" he exclaims with his arms out.
and you? you barged in and made yourself at home here, so why were you shocked? for one, he didn't have a shirt on and he was so close to exposing his bare nether regions to you, but the wounds across his torso were horrifying. you were even more concerned about the latter now.
"spider-man, huh?" you remark as you helped treat his wounds. "so this is why you left me to do the presentation myself."
rindou's eyes widen. "fuck, i'm sorry—i completely forgot," he apologizes immediately, but is cut off by the sting of alcohol on his wounds. you let out a chuckle, shaking your head. you couldn't stay upset with him, especially knowing you would've probably died with other innocent civilians had he not done anything.
"who else knows?"
he hears you loud and clear, but he spaces out for a moment—liking the way your fingertips felt on his skin as you smoothen out the edges of the bandage on his shoulder. "just you," he said, his voice still raspy. "don't tell anyone. please."
"i'll be your close confidant." you smile, giving his shoulder a light pat. "wait here," you say before leaving his room.
you'd come back later with tea and medicine that you bought real quick from the convenience store, "for your throat."
"i wanna go again!"
"geez, you can stop screaming now—we're on the ground already."
ever since finding out rindou is spider-man, you'd always ask to go for a ride. not a bike ride, nope. you meant web-swinging around tokyo. you don't really ask anymore though, you sort of demand it. who needs to go to an amusement park when your friend can shoot webs and swing from building to building?
sometimes rindou is a little reluctant... for safety reasons. one time, as he held you in one arm, web-shooting and swinging with the other, you nearly crashed into a train. it felt like he was holding a dolphin instead with the way you were screaming. but he ends up indulging in your requests because it means he gets to feel you close as you hold on for dear life.
you've been trusting him a little too much though, and he gets a heart attack every single time. for god's sake, stop trying to balance yourself on the edge of the rooftop! and don't loosen your grip around him when he takes you out for a swing, what if he drops you?
he'd never drop you. you're so sure of it, but rindou still wonders why you have that much faith in him.
what you don't have is faith in him to ever show up early.
you're waiting on your balcony late at night, annoyed because he was supposed to come see you at 8pm. it's 10pm now.
rindou comes swinging in, standing on the railing beside you with a jacket he had hastily slipped on over his spider suit. you immediately start scolding him as he puts on the rest of his clothes.
"you're late again, haitani. do you even remember what time we agreed on?"
he still had his mask on, but you can sense a cheeky grin hidden beneath it—as if you had some sixth sense of your own. "sorry, i've been busy saving the city." he responds, his tone cocky.
"oh, classic excuse. you're always pulling the spider-man card on me!" you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. he leaps and lands on the railing in front of you, taking his mask off.
"it's not easy, y'know? i was really on my way here before eight, and then i got distracted by a side quest," rindou quips. "it had way more dialogue to go through than i was expecting, and there was no skip button either." he couldn't help chuckling at his own joke, and you continued your bickering while he paces back and forth on the railings. but eventually, rindou realizes you're not actually that mad at him—you're just worried.
rindou softens and sits down in front of you. the way he perches over the narrow railing, the flesh of his butt spilling slightly over the edge like he's about to fall—if not for his special abilities keeping him stuck to it.
"look, i'm sorry. i really am."
rindou looks a bit different today, and you're trying to figure out why. maybe he doesn't look as stoic or otherwise cocky as he usually does. but just as the thought crosses your mind, he pulls his mask back on for some reason.
"i never thought someone like me would gain such a huge responsibility one day. it was so... sudden." rindou? venting? this was new even to you. "i just thought i'd be stronger ever since that day, win more fights on my own. but now i just get this itch to save everyone no matter how boring or tiring the fight is. and you–" he pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a second. "you're the only one who knows, the only one i can be real with about this whole double life thing. i can't lose that—i can't lose you."
"and you won't." you respond quickly, grabbing his hand. "i know it probably feels like you're carrying this all by yourself, but you've got me, okay? i promise i'll always be here." you reassure him and rindou is sure his heartbeat is a lot louder than it normally is.
rindou could stare at you all day. whether he was in the middle of class, or right now, when you're standing in front of him with the same eyes he loves to get lost in—except this time, they look a lot softer. the earlier tension melts away and he almost misses the way your hand moved to push his mask off. when he notices what you were doing, his body reacted on its own. you flinch when he disappears from your peripheral vision, but you can hear a slight thud from above you.
"hey, what are you doing up there?" you call out to him, leaning over the balcony railing as you search for him on your rooftop. "don't tell me you're getting all flustered on me now!" you tease him but jolt away from the railing when he appears in front of you again, dangling upside down from a web.
"flustered? me?" rindou snickers and he laughs—the kind you would let out when you're mocking someone, but it turns sheepish really quickly before it dies down. he tugs his mask off, just enough to reveal the bottom half of his face (would it be the top half now since he's upside down?). "i guess you're the only one who has that effect on me."
you raise an eyebrow, pretending to mull over his words. "the only one, huh?" you lean closer, resting your hands against the railing just inches away from his face. "sounds like a lot of power to give to someone."
he shrugs—or does the upside-down equivalent of it. "yeah well, with great power comes great responsibility, so... don't screw it up," he says and the spider eye on his mask winks at you, prompting you to chuckle and roll your eyes.
"alright," your hand moves up to rest on his cheek, caressing softly with your thumb. "i won't screw it up," you whisper before finally closing the gap, pressing your lips against his.
rindou would eventually find out about the spider society and canon events, and he'd immediately think of you.
he sees the future through the experiences of other spider-people, and his heart stops. what do you mean he could lose his only family? and the love of his life?
rindou was already hesitant to tell ran, but he probably had his suspicions already. and he knows how much more worried ran would be when he finds out. you were the one person he could confide in about such things. but for once, he's afraid to share something with you, the one thing that could change everything.
could he really try to save you and his brother, and put other universes at risk? it's a question that's been plaguing his mind, it gnaws at him. what if he wasn't bitten by that spider? what if he never became spider-man? would you still find your way to him? would the webs of fate be kind enough to keep you by his side even if someone else in his universe became spider-man?
rindou finds himself standing on the wall next to your window in the middle of the night, like a child running to his parent's room after a nightmare. he slips inside quietly, but makes his presence known.
you were lying in bed, not asleep yet. you glance over and see him all suited up. scooting over, you make some space on your bed for him, "you just gonna stand there?"
rindou exhales a quiet sigh of relief upon hearing your voice, but his heart aches at the same time. wordlessly, he yanks his mask off and crashes on top of your figure on the bed. for a moment, you're taken aback, it's not like you've never cuddled before, but he was making you uneasy today. the way he buries his face into your neck—his lips pressing gently against your skin, his arms engulf you in his embrace entirely, and the kicker? you feel something wet on your neck.
"hey–" you try to pull away slightly, but his grip tightens, keeping you in place. "rin, is everything okay? did something happen?"
rindou doesn't need to lift his head from your neck to see your furrowed eyebrows and widened eyes, he could sense it. he'd be lying if he said he didn't like that worried look on your face—he loves knowing that you care, but he liked it better when you're smiling. right now though? it doesn't matter what expression you wear. you could be angry with him for no good reason and he'd still be happy to see you. because it has to be you. it's always you.
"i'll try harder to show up on time for our dates," he murmurs, his voice shaky and muffled against your skin. "we'll do whatever you wanna do, just don't leave me. i'll always protect you, i promise." his words puzzle you, but you sense that you shouldn't press him, at least not now.
"i know," you whisper, wrapping your arms around him. "i'm not going anywhere, rindou."
his hold around you tightens, pulling you impossibly closer. you could almost suffocate from how hot it was getting, but you couldn't care less. tomorrow isn't promised. so you hold him too, you hold him tight.
the more i read it the more i cringe so im gonna post it before i change my mind 😂😂 also i was not expecting the slight angst near the end LMAO
#tokyo revengers#rindou haitani#haitani brothers#tokrev#tokyo revengers fluff#tokrev fluff#tokrev x reader#rindou x reader#rindou haitani fluff#haitani rindou#tokyo revengers x reader
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