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euaphoric · 8 months

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🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 1. 🕸️

Show You What Devotion Is . . .

[PAIRING] jungkook x f!reader

[GENRE] bf/gf, established relationship, pwp [WARNINGS] fluff, smut, small mentions of insecurities, body worship, devotion kink, face-sitting, biting, spit kink (sorta, kinda?)

summary: you don’t think you’re good enough for your boyfriend but he proves those thoughts wrong by showing just how much undying love he truly has for you.

wc -> 2.0k

A/N: first post of the month, 30 more to go woohoo~ so excited to do this and hopefully this’ll help me get a better idea of what i like/don’t like writing in the future. **fyi oc is told that she tastes like candy but obvi in the real world if ur hoo-ha tastes like candy that’s not normal .. o_O buttt this is fiction so just pretend they can sjdjfjsjjs.

kinktober m.list

this day simply couldn’t get any worse. you missed the bus back home just by a fraction of a minute, all because you wanted to speak with your professor at his office hours but now in hindsight, you wished you never did. it was practically a waste of time anyway, he wasn’t giving much worthy feedback on your presentation and the anxiety about your final grade grew rampant as the semester progressed. ‘fuck, guess’ll wait for the next one in 15’ you mumble to yourself, annoyed and exhausted from earlier’s events. one side of you just wants to call jungkook to come pick you up but your other subconscious is telling you that’s selfish— don’t make him drive all the way here when you can just wait a measly 15 more minutes.

sigh~

it won’t kill you to wait, it’s not like you were in a rush to see him right now. it was actually quite the opposite, you weren’t prepared to tell him how you completely bombed your presentation. well, you wouldn’t say completely but it definitely wasn’t up to your impossibly high standards. public speaking was the only class you struggled with the most, you could articulate your words precisely in writing but saying it out loud? that was a totally different story. you have to outgrow this “fear” over speaking in front of an audience if you want to practice law one day. no one’s going to take you seriously if you can’t even read a single paragraph without tripping over syllables. all you could do was replay those embarrassing moments and internally cringe, almost missing the bus again from being so deep in thought— what a nightmare.

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“baaabyyyy!” the sweet sound of jungkook’s voice instantly made everything better, at least for now. his peachy soft lips went straight to your face almost immediately, smothering you with dozens of kisses while caging his beautiful, toned arms around your willowed frame. “you came home so late, was expectin’ you half an hour agooo.” he whines immaturely, holding you so tight he’s nearly squeezing you at this point. he must’ve really missed you. “i missed the bus… i wanted to talk with my professor about my presentation and thought i could make it but i guess not..” you pause, thinking if you should share what’s really crossing your mind, “…i was gonna call you to pick me up but didn’t think it was worth all that hassle.” now hearing yourself say that out loud makes it seem like he isn’t a reliable boyfriend, he very much is, it’s just the over-thinker in you. it’ll mark your 2 years of dating next week yet somehow you still felt like you were burdening him at times.

if the embodiment of ‘???’ was a person, that would be jungkook right about now; he couldn’t fathom you thinking such unlawful things. “hassle? what’re you talking about love, nothing is a hassle for me when it comes to you, absolutely nothing. next time you need me don’t hesitate to call babe,” he reassures sincerely. loosening his embrace momentarily to turn you around, he brings your chests together while his hands wrap your pretty waist, feeling his rapid heartbeat against yours. “i’m serious, you better call me next time.” the sternness of his voice alarming you that he’ll probably lecture you for this. he texts you hourly just to check in and make sure you’re okay, a simple drive to pick you up is the bare minimum to him. “well besides that.. how’d your presentation go?” jungkook’s doe-like eyes widen as he interrogates with questions. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” you silently mutter, already dreading what the final grades were going to be. “that bad, huh?” he proceeds with even more questions, “did you remember like we practiced last night?” you nod, lowering your head to stare at the floor, confidence dwindling by the second.

it truly hurts him to see you upset over something you’ve worked so passionately on, all just for it to feel ruined in the end. he hates that you’re not your usual bubbly and cute self, it makes him do everything he can to cheer you up. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it now, i get it. you probably did well though, i bet you messed up like one time and no one even noticed ‘cause you’re so pretty!” he teases, inked, slender digits trail up to find solace on your chin, lifting your head up to face each other again. “stop stressing over dumb little imperfections, it never ends well.” “oh, you’re one to talk!” you whine into his chest, unable to deal with his hypocrisy. not jungkook of all people giving you this speech when he is literally the #1 perfectionist king. “and i’m not even that pretty..” you quietly mumble, hoping he wouldn’t catch that. “wait, what did you just say?!” his voice raised an octave of confusion, you would think someone had just told him the most horrific story, but no, here he is on the verge of a mental breakdown over his girlfriend feeling insecure. “i said i’m not that—” “no no, i heard you the first time. my brain just isn’t registering the fact that you don’t think you’re anything less than a walking goddess of this earth.” he was flabbergasted to hear you talk with such low confidence, “sometimes, i feel like you can do so much better..” that’s what fully broke his heart as you spoke, it pained him to know you harbored all these feelings deep down inside.

the only answer in solving this dilemma is by being a better boyfriend to you, showering you with even more compliments than he already does daily, and most importantly, proving that he is 100% devoted to you and you only.

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eyes half-lidded in lust, limbs spasming and going numb from the continuous stimulation, you can’t do much but moan out jungkook’s name on an endless loop. the first hour, jungkook took his heavenly time with your delicate, angelic body. everything about you is divine to him, he wants to appreciate every single inch of you, even the parts you despise. he dedicated his lips to kissing and pleasuring your whole body, leaving no surface of you untouched. he’d rave in between kisses about how beautiful you are, how lucky he is and how he’s willing to do anything to make you happy. if being love-drunk was a disease, he’d rather fall into a coma and never wake up than find the cure. he’s living his best life as he cherishes your innate beauty, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he reaches them, taking ample time to caress and praise your dreamy body. he’s always had a thing for your cute plush thighs, the way they’d bounce and jiggle when he plays with them makes him all giddy inside. he can never get enough of them or you, leaving numerous bite marks and coating them with his spit, “you’re a work of art princess, a masterpiece. don’t think any different.” jungkook murmured against you, voice laced with pure seduction and infatuation.

body buzzing in anticipation as he kept working his way up, leaving a chaste peck to your left and right hip bone, firmly gripping your thighs as he drags his lips to your center. the urge to make out with your cunt was insatiable for him, he needed his face buried between your legs, there was no place he’d rather be. “after this you’re gonna use my face as your throne and m’gonna give you the most mind blowing orgasm, capeesh?” jungkook props his head up for a second before kissing below your belly button. “c-capeeshh.” you hazily reply, mind still fuzzy from just his kisses and touch alone. you know you’re in for a wild ride whenever you sit on your boyfriend’s face, he always eats you like a starved man and makes sure you cum multiple times, he takes such pride in himself for having you be a twitching and moaning mess by the end of it all. his only goal and mission for the night was to make you feel so good that you reach your climax hard enough to see memories of your life flash before your eyes. as he made his way up to your waist, you melt into his warmth, craving him more and more as time goes on. you thought you felt your soul leave your body when he unsuspectingly attaches his mouth to your nipple, babbling nothing coherent as you rut your hips into nothing.

as much as jungkook wanted to keep the teasing going, he was so down bad to have you sit on his face in this moment, ready to show exactly how much love and obsession he has for you. “need you so bad babe.. need to taste you,” he sighs, shamelessly gawking over you as he maneuvers you on top. “you’re so fuckin’ sexy mama... would love to be in between these pretty thighs for the rest of my life.” you couldn’t help but blush at his dirty talk, feeling flustered as you slide off your damp polka dot panties, watching as he licks his lips, planning to devour you whole. jungkook was so excited, you’re always scared of hurting him whenever you sit on his face but he reassures you often that he’ll be fine, “you’re not gonna kill me babe, trust me. even if you did i think it’d be sick to put ‘died from too much pussy juice’ on my gravestone anyway.” he lightly jokes, never taking anything in the slightest bit serious. you position your lower half, hovering over his face as he stares directly at your wetness. the tent in his boxers only surged, he was so hopelessly attracted to you, he could cum just from giving you head.

“fuuuu- oh my god so good, so good! yess, keep going babyy..” your legs shake violently as you rock your hips back and forth, rendering a steady motion against your boyfriend’s soothing tongue. as you throw your head back in pleasure and delight, jungkook grips onto your thighs for dear life, using every bit of manpower he possessed in making sure you don’t move away. “mmmhh~” he’d hum into your sensitive, eliciting the harmonious moans he loves to hear every night. you clutch onto the floral sheets of the bed, hand full of jet-black hair in the other. “mmm.. taste so sweet for me..” he grunts against your dripping core, “like candy..” a few more sloppy licks then he’s back to aggressively sucking your clit. you were grinding his face with more speed and didn’t care as much about hurting him anymore, if he really was uncomfortable he’d speak up. jungkook would never do that though, you are his goddess and he wants this night to be all about pleasing you. “uhhh, t-think m’gonna cum..” you felt that familiar knot in your tummy, hips subconsciously rutting faster into his mouth as eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t tell much of his condition below you but his stamina never slowed, eating you out with everlasting hunger as his grip refuses to unravel. “cum for me princess, please.” his encouraging words help reach your high, feeling a whole new state of nirvana as your chest heaves, “fuck, jungkook, i love you!” you cry out, clenching around his tongue as he licks every crevice of you clean. the room spun around as you catch your breath, having trouble regaining your balance for a split second.

you droop down onto your heavy panting boyfriend’s chest, lightly sticking to his dewy skin from all the built up sweat. “sooo, how’re you feeling now compared to earlier? did it work? are all your insecurities vanished and gone now?” he’s back to his normal self again, asking his little series of questions. you giggle, “i feel great koo, definitely helped me relax..” flashing a warm smile as he reaches out for you to cuddle, “i must’ve done some life-changing shit in my past lives to deserve someone as good as you.”

#kinktober 2023 #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x f reader #jungkook fic #bts fics #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabbles

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charmercharm3r · 9 months

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Make Love, Not Porn

Play Time!

HHJ

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact.

wc: 3.8k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: barista!hyunjin x cam girl!reader, smut, explicit sexual content, masturbation (m, f), he's a little obsessed, easing into the smuttier smut if that's even a thing.

Live : Play Time!

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Heat Signature

☆ﾟ

Rule number one; everybody is temporary.

There is no love in this industry, no trust, no friends, only coworkers that all want the same thing. Sometimes you work with them more than once, other times– most times, it’s a one-and-done deal.

They never want to stay anyways, you learned that lesson the hard way. It’s why you set up such a tough wall to break through, there’s no point in befriending anyone on your side of the pond.

It’s scary, really, how quickly you can be moaning someone’s name, kissing them like you need them to breathe, touching and feeling them as intimately as someone who truly was in love. Then as soon as the livestream ends, you can’t remember what their lips feel like and everything smells like latex and sweat. You offer them some water, snacks, a shower. They usually decline. Minutes later, your front door is shutting and you’re alone once again.

No one ever intends on getting into porn, you don’t even remember the details on how you ended up here. Your follower count had risen overnight and before you knew it, that one video had gotten you more money in a week than a month’s worth of minimum wage ever did. The humiliation was nonexistent considering you hadn’t even posted yourself naked that first time, if anything you were excited to post again. Who knew a video of you just sitting in a chair, playing with yourself under your skirt with your knees pressed closed would take off so rapidly. That thirty second video changed your life.

– fuck, who is this?? are they new??

– thats so hot. face reveal?

– show us your tits

– god i wanna fuck u so bad

– suck my dick pls

Those comments didn’t bother you, it was a little flattering if you were being honest with yourself. People wanted you, they don’t even know your real name, have never seen your face or what you look like in the sunlight. They don’t know you and yet, you’re everything to them, so much so that they pay you for your time, and body. They fill your wallet just for you to read their comment out loud, attention whores for you. And you love it. For some reason, their praise is much more fulfilling than anyone you've guested on your livestreams.

Recently, though, you’ve stopped bringing people on, not much to your viewer’s disapproval. There was more interaction and less vulgarity, like they wanted you to actually speak to them rather than just stuff your pussy with whatever new dildo you’d been gifted in your PO box.

You hadn’t planned on having such a personal stream today, you honestly just wanted the relief and thought your viewers would have a good time. But for some reason, the comments were less about getting you to take your clothes off and more about why your voice was shaking.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. Really!” Even you could hear the subtle octave change. “If you wanted me to cry, you could’ve just said please. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

Perhaps the forced sultriness of your voice worked its charm, the comments quickly switched back to their normal obscenities once you started to unbutton your top. Truthfully, you preferred when they asked you to get naked, it was a lot easier to do than to admit what it was you were really lacking. Honest companionship is the rarest thing.

Rule number two: no identifying features.

Even if you weren’t ashamed, your job is still taboo. No one and everyone knew what it was you did. Your best friend helped you pick lingerie and background mood lighting, your parents thought you were an office worker. Strangers have seen your most private parts, you only allow your grandma to give you a kiss on the cheek during Christmas. Safe to say your occupation was strictly need-to-know.

You’re glad you started live streaming before deciding to get any tattoos, running the risk of someone stopping you in the middle of the street was the most terrifying thing you could imagine happening. Naturally, you avoided getting anything at all once your streams started to really take off.

There was nothing you wore to accessorize unless a patron paid for it in advance, that was always done a week before streams and the contact with the patron was never more than a simple google form and an email from your business account to confirm. Other than that, you were a blank canvas, just a body with a voice that left more to the imagination than you would think. If your viewers were happy, you were happy.

“What do you think of my new nail color? A special someone picked it out for me,” you held out your hands to display the pretty shine, twiddling your fingers. The comments went crazy, “no, no, not anyone like that, c’mon! You know you’re my number one. But I think you should all give lovely user callingherdaddy a thank you for picking it out. Thank you, sir.”

You took the polish off the next morning.

Rule number three: be consistent.

Nothing kills a steady income more than ghosting the ones that put the money in your pocket. You stuck to a strict schedule of three streams every week and frequent posts on your socials. The stuff you posted on your social media wasn’t even related to your work on camming, but it doesn’t hurt when they leave a couple nice comments.

With a schedule and job like yours, you need a little bit of normalcy. Self employed, you don’t have a real routine when you aren’t streaming. It was starting to make you feel lazy, a bit lethargic, and overall unmotivated.

It wasn’t until recently did you decide to start doing normal people things, like waking up at 7 a.m., doing a mini work out, grocery shopping in the morning, even getting yourself a coffee from the shop near your house as a treat. Doing this was nice, you felt good, your head was clearer. Hell, you even got excited when it came time to do your cams because you felt so full of energy.

You had only been to the coffee shop once or twice before, but to get yourself to keep the routine, you told yourself you’d go every day for the next two weeks. Afterall, it only takes 21 days to form a habit.

It was packed, as usual for a morning weekday. There were only about six baristas working, all scurrying about the bar to get through the morning rush. You liked watching them, mindlessly completing drinks in such a way that made you a little jealous. Most of them seemed your age, obviously you knew that they couldn’t have all had perfect lives, but at least this part of their day was something they could openly complain about.

Were you really jealous? Of normal people? You had to be insane.

Shaking your head, you walked further into the shop and waited in line. You thought nothing of it, placing your order, “iced chai with three blonde shots, please,” and handed the barista the card, “thank you.”

You barely looked up at him, only when he held onto your card a little longer as you tried to take it back did you make eye contact. A little awkward, the barista was staring at you with wide eyes. He was handsome, too handsome to be working behind the counter. Long black hair framed his face nicely, pretty plump lips, and an endearing little mole under his eye that made his siren stare only slightly less intimidating. Yeah, handsome.

He didn’t look away even after he let you take your card back.

“S– sorry. You look like–”

“It’s okay. Thanks again.” You hurried away as fast as you could. He couldn’t have known who you were, right? Not a chance, you have never shown your face. You were wearing too many clothes for any particular body part to be recognizable. It’s just a coincidence.

Either way, the minor interaction with the barista scared you into hiding again, forgetting going out for anything else you had planned and deciding to hole away at home.

You had a livestream to do later anyways, focus on that. There were a few hours left for you to kill before turning on the camera, now would be as good a time as any to set up.

It wasn’t much that you did, mostly just thinking of what it was you thought viewers would like to see for the day. An hour before the scheduled stream, you set up a waiting room on the website that hinted at what the day’s theme would be. Today you thought you’d go a little easy on the eyes; “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: play time! <3”

A typical stream would start off soft, greeting viewers like any other meeting. You’d ask how their day was, if there was anything in particular they wanted to do or talk about, some answered genuinely while others urged you to strip. You liked the ones that asked you how your day was, too, and enjoyed sharing your thoughts with them. Though, it was no secret what everyone was here for, even if sometimes– just sometimes, you liked what came before taking off your clothes more than anything.

“I have a few things in mind for play time today, I’d like to hear what you guys think. Would you prefer this,” in your hand, you held up your favorite vibrator, big and baby pink. “Or this?” in the other, a new grinder that resembled the shape of a tentacle with the sucker-side up.

Comment section didn’t slow down as soon as you showed the second toy. “I thought you might like this one. I got it just for you! I’m excited to try it out with you.”

– im so fucking hard

– i wanna see ur pussy

– thats so nice, ur sweet

“Slow down! Haha, we’re gonna take our time,” you laughed away the weird feeling in your chest as you read the fleeing comments. “You’re so impatient today, lovely. Did you have a hard day? I know I did,” you slowly peeled down the blouse you wore, letting it hang off your shoulders to expose your bare shoulders. It seemed redundant to wear a bra, but you kept the shirt covering your breasts for dramatic effect, hard nipples peaking through.

“I just wanna take it a little more… gentler, if that’s alright.” The camera was angled to cut off at your neck to avoid showing your face, but you bit your lip anyways as you held up the grinder. “It’s a little out of my comfort zone, honestly. I’ve never told you about this fantasy before.” You ran your finger down the rubber center, feeling the many little suction cups bend.

You giggled as you came to the swirled tip of the tentacle, playing with the way it curled and how pliable it was. “When I ordered this, they let me choose the color. I think pink suits me, don’t you? But I also thought, maybe blue? Or black… but then it would be too hard for you to see, right?”

As you spoke, you laid the grinder between your legs but not quite touching it. With two fingers, you stroked it the same way you would your own pussy. Your other free hand was doing just that right behind the toy and beneath the length of your shirt, feeling your wetness building up with your hand down your panties. “Oh my, just talking to you– my underwear is soaked!” The giggle that left your lips was genuine, you didn’t expect to work yourself up so quickly.

You stole your fingers from your cunt and showed it to the camera, spreading them to let your viewers see the slick coating shine in the soft lighting. “Heh, told ya I was excited. You make me like this.”

When you started to really get going it was hard to pay attention to the comments, you tended to get a little lost until you finally came. Like now, you brought the toy closer to your core, lightly lifting yourself to sit on it. As soon as you did, you let out a whimper.

Hyunjin had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He doesn’t even know why, he couldn’t have been sure of anything.

Except he was. He was 100% sure, plus another 10% for good measure. He hadn’t even known about the site for long, you were just his favorite. He’d found hardcandysweetheart and never bothered to look anywhere else.

You were just another customer at first, a pretty one that caught his attention. He noticed you in line and had every intention of flirting and possibly asking for you to sign up for the rewards program with them just so he could use that as an excuse to get your number. Then you spoke.

All you fucking did was speak. “Please,” and “thank you,” and Hyunjin fucking crumbled.

Jesus, he must have looked like an idiot. He knows he did, but he was star struck. Fanboying, red in the face with embarrassment, about to fold at the knees, and hard as a fucking rock all at the same time. He had to excuse himself to the restroom as soon as you left just to get his boner to go away.

If it really was you– and he hoped to god it wasn’t– he’ll never forget such a pretty face.

Which is why he turned on notifications for your stream. He knew your schedule by heart but he needed to be sure that it was your voice he heard. As soon as he got home from his shift, clothes came off and he was sat in bed with his laptop nearby, just waiting for the ping notification from you.

God, it was you. As soon as he heard you through his headphones, it confirmed what he already knew.

What a kind voice, supple, soft, he could listen to you for hours– he has listened to you for hours. Sometimes he wished you could do live streams of just you talking, you never even had to take your clothes off. Now that he knew what you looked like, Hyunjin’s heartbeat faster than it ever did when you made conversation.

It was the way you did, as though you were speaking to him and only him. The image he created of you in his head looked like it was thought up by a child in comparison to seeing you in real life. He could put a face to the voice now, he wasn’t even thinking about your body. Just your voice.

“You make me like this,” you said in almost a whisper, tone cracking just a little the more you sat on the toy.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but palm at himself, not entirely stroking but moving at the same pace. This was a team effort, in his mind. You made him crazy, as he did to you. That was his fantasy. You always spoke with so much love in your voice, as though you truly cared for him and it got him harder than any other kind of porn ever could.

Was that really all it took? Was he that pathetic? Someone who didn’t even know who he was, talking to an ocean of people that all saw the same thing he did, and suddenly it’s the only thing that can make him cum.

He can’t even complain now, he’s seen you. That’s enough spank bank to last him a lifetime if you ever suddenly decided to stop camming. Shit– he hopes he didn’t just manifest that into existence.

The white button up top draped in front of your cunt to hide away from view. That’s alright, you said you were taking it slow today. Your hips slowly pushed forward and back, hands gripping tightly at the armrests of your uncomfortable looking desk chair. Hyunjin thought it was kind of cute how you would still cam in the same seat as you did when he found your first video.

His laptop on his abdomen concealed the view of his cock leaking, but the way you were sat on screen, he could envision it was him you were sitting on instead. That’s exactly what he imagined as you rocked faster into the toy, lifting your shirt and balling it in your fist to show that your wetness had spread to the front of your panties. Hyunjin didn’t even mind that the bold pink tentacle blocking a bit of the view, you were getting so into it that he hardly noticed anymore.

Hyunjin fumbled to find his dick, slowly beginning to squeeze the head as you turned to shorter and quicker ruts towards the front of the toy where the tentacle curled up. You moaned loudly, making him do so as well in return. “Fuck, I ruined this pair, didn’t I?”

Your cute laugh had Hyunjin breaking out into a smirk, “that’s okay,” he whispered to no one but himself.

“I should take it off but,” you rolled your hips again with a whine, “I kinda want you to work for it.”

The tips in the corner of the page were pinging like crazy as soon as you said that. He himself tapped the button rapidly and paid no mind to how his account balance shot down.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy. It’s just one little word that I wanna hear. I’ll say it first, if that makes you feel better.” The speed of your hips picked up a little, in turn Hyunjin let his fist slowly work up and down, no faster than you, of course.

“Please. Please, is the word I’m looking for, lovely. Say it, just once.”

Fuck, he couldn’t help speeding up just a little. He loved the way you said it, even more the way you commanded him to say it as well. “Please,” the whimper came out breathy and uneven as the precum lubricated his cock more.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Hyunjin shook his head, no.

“No, it wasn’t. Look what happens when you ask nicely,” you stood from your seat just to pull off the flimsy fabric, sitting fully back down on the toy and holding up the soaked pair with another chuckle. “You get nice things.”

Hyunjin could hear how wet you really were now, every lewd sound that came from you rubbing yourself back and forth on the grinder. You still didn’t let him– them– see you fully. He wasn’t even sure if you’d expose yourself at all this stream. Still, his fist picked up speed as you did, taking in every grunt you let out when you’d hit a particularly good spot. Hyunjin kept his eyes on you the whole time, memorizing the way you moved, what angle made you tick.

“C’mon lovely, I know you can do better than that.”

You were referring to the tip counter, but Hyunjin took it as he can do better than that. His other hand reached around the laptop, down to cup his balls as he worked his cock faster, occasionally running his fingers over the head for a break in stimulation. Somehow he managed to stop touching himself for a split second to rapid fire extra tips when they slowed down.

“Oh, someone wants a little extra attention today. What do I call you, lovely?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure if you were speaking to him, though he hoped and typed a nickname anyways. “Baby? That’s cute. Thank you, baby, you’re so sweet.”

His hand instantly returned to his dick, not caring about the speed anymore, instead wanting to cum to the sound of your voice. He quickly tapped the tip button a few more times and you giggled, “baby, you’re spoiling me. Here, since you’re being so nice,” you lifted the hem of your shirt to put your bare cunt on display, seemingly tucking the end of it into your mouth.

Hyunjin could see it so clearly, your pretty lips drooling onto the fabric, biting it to contain the moans that wanted to slip past. Fuck, he was going insane, wet, slick noises from his animalistic fisting on his cock almost surpassing the volume of your voice in his headphones.

He just watched now, listened intently to how good you were making yourself feel and it made his body light a fire. You were clearly getting closer as well, forgetting the dirty talk and humping away at the toy with little to no regard for who was watching. Hyunjin loved this side of you the most, when you couldn’t think of anything other than the impending pleasure. He could imagine your eyes rolling back, the furrow in your brow and beads of sweat dripping down your temples as you came nearer to falling over the edge. Your hands moved to grip the edge of the seat, aiding in pushing your body forward and back harder against the grinder and Hyunjin was jerking himself with a hotter fervor. Your muffled cries echoed in his head– he was making you feel like this, he was the one you were using to please yourself, he was the one you thought of as you came all over his cock.

Hyunjin suddenly held his breath and let his release take over his body, squeezing and pumping the tip of his cock as he spurt his seed all over his stomach and back of his computer. By the time he’d come to, opened his eyes, and regained his breath, you were slumped back in your chair and panting heavily. He missed your grand finale, but that was okay with him, you came at the same time. Even in post nut clarity, he wanted to hear your voice. More than that, he wanted to hold you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you until you were breathless all over again.

Hyunjin’s shaky hand found the tip button again and tapped.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiled.

You groaned and found the strength to steal the toy from your aching cunt, holding it up for the camera to see it glistening with your essence. Laughing, “this was fun, wasn’t it? I enjoyed myself, I might have to buy more of these.” You tossed it onto the desk and suddenly seemed shy, tugging your shirt as far down as you could without exposing more skin. “Until next time, lovely. I’ll miss you.” You waved your dainty fingers at the camera, doing your signature sign off, and the screen went black.

Hyunjin’s head fell back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling trying to understand all the emotions he just rushed through.

He couldn’t compute them even if he tried. All he knew was that he was excited to go to work tomorrow morning, hoping that whatever god heard his plea, begging that you’ll come in.

When he went to shut his laptop, his fingers smeared the warm mess that was slowly dripping. “Fuck— ew,” and he hurried to clean up, alone once again.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

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wandanatsgf · 3 months

Text

Sugar, Sugar Part 2

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You, Wanda, and Natasha go over your sugar baby contract and you experience what it's like having the two women please you.

Warning: This contains smut and the following kinks: degradation, praise, thigh riding, daddy kink, mommy kink (I think that's all of them, but let me know if I missed one)

Author's note: I meant to post this last night, but I ended up falling asleep. Anyway here it is now! I decided to add smut, but since this is the trios first time I kept it pretty tame (at least according to my standards its pretty tame lol)

Part 1

After your little date with Natasha and Wanda, you go home with Kate. You climb into bed, surprisingly happy about how today turned out. You never thought being a sugar baby was something you would ever do, but the prospects of being able to afford rent and bills was just too tempting. And it helped that two of the hottest women in the world wanted you. All of your previous reservations about being a sugar baby had practically vanished after your meeting with the women.

You spend your night texting Natasha and Wanda, just getting to know them. You learn about their lives and they learn about yours.

The next morning arrives pretty quickly, and you're excited because you know it means you get to talk to Nat and Wanda some more.

You check your phone and you see that you have two new messages in your newly made groupchat.

Nat: Good morning hon! Text us when you're up, we wanted to meet today and draft up a contract.

Wanda: And have a good day! Talk to you soon baby!

The messages bring a smile to your face, and you quickly text the two women, telling them you can meet them whenever. They decide to pick you up at 1 and to bring you to their home to have this conversation.

The two women arrive at your apartment promptly at 1pm, just like they said they would. Natasha is in the driver's seat, while Wanda is in the drivers seat. Wanda get out when she notices you approaching so that she can open your door.

"Thanks Wanda," you say, blushing over the fact that this beautiful woman is opening the door for you.

"You're welcome darling," she says back. She makes sure that you're buckled before she climbs back into her seat. Once she's situated Natasha takes off to their house.

The three of you converse the throughout the whole drive. You talk about your school, your friends, their work, and more. Pretty soon Natasha is pulling up to a gated driveway and punching in a code. The gate retracts and lets the car in.

As the car pulls into the driveway, your mouth drops open. You knew the two of them were rich, but you didn't realize just how rich they are. Their house is massive, with it's pool and basketball court and tennis court. From the looks of it, the house has everything you could ever need.

"You might want to close your mouth baby," Natasha says with a smile, glancing back at you in her rearview mirror.

"Sorry," you say. You glance down at your lap, hoping to avoid eye contact with either of the women.

"You don't have to apologize baby, she's just teasing. Aren't you Natty?"

Natasha nods in agreement before saying, "You're just so cute when you're embarrassed honey." Natasha throws the car into park and walks around to open the door for you this time. A blush is gracing your face, and you think in the presence of these two, it's never going to go away. She helps you out the car and leads you into the house, with Wanda right behind the two of you. Wanda goes right, while you and Natasha goes left, where she leads you to a home office.

You sit down in a chair while Natasha sits in the one of the left of you.

"Where'd Wanda go?"

"She just went to get some drinks," Natasha says. "She'll be here soon." As soon as those words left Natasha's mouth, in walks Wanda carrying three bottles of water, a laptop, and a stack of papers. She gives one set of papers and water to you and one to Tasha, leaving one for herself.

Wanda sits down on the seat to your right and then she starts talking.

"I know this can be a lot to take in," Wanda says. "But we just wanted to go over everything and make sure you understand what you're getting yourself into. And if you decide to change your mind, you can back out at any time," Wanda assures you.

“Ok so what’s first?”

“First we wanted to talk about what we’re expecting and maybe tweak some things if we need to,” Natasha says. “The paper we gave you is just an example of a contract and what ours could look like.”

“We’re looking for someone to go to events with us when the other can’t go and to keep us company whenever we want. Are those things you’re okay with sweetheart?” Natasha asks you.

“Yes I’m fine with all of that,” you say. “I’d be more than happy to spend time with the two of you,” you say rather flirtatiously.

“Look who’s getting all courageous now,” Wanda lightly teases.

“I guess the two of you are just rubbing off on me.”

“Mhm,” the woman says, agreeing with you. She eyes you up and down, and you can see her pupils dilating, but the look in her eyes disappears just as quickly as it appeared.

“What’s next?”

“So allowance. We were thinking $2000 a week. Is that enough?” Wanda asks.

Your mouth drops open.

“What is something wrong? Do you need more?” Natasha asks, noticing your shocked expression.

“No! That’s more than enough,” you assure her. “I’m just not used to that much money,” you explain.

"It's no problem baby, you deserve it." Natasha's words bring a smile to your face.

"Next thing we need to discuss is sex, we can put off this conversation until later or we can have it now, whatever you want baby," Wanda says.

"We can talk about it now," you say, a shy smile gracing your face. Even though you were experienced in the bedroom, the topic still made you embarrassed.

"So you know that we're both doms, and I'm guessing based off of that cute, little smile and blush on your face, you're a sub?" Natasha asks. You nod your head in conformation.

And do you know about the traffic light system?"

"Yes, I've used it before."

"Okay good. If you ever need to safe word for any reason whatsoever, just say red and everything stops. We promise we won't be mad," Wanda says.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that, you two," you say.

"You don't have to thank us honey. We're just doing what all doms should do," Natasha says. Her words give you a sense of comfort. You had never been with someone who cared about your wellbeing like the two of these women did. And the crazy thing is, you had just met these women, but you still felt safe with them.

“And aftercare. What do you like?”

“Cuddles, baths or showers, cuddly naps,” you say.

"Okay that’s actually perfect, that’s what we like too. And now we just need to go over some kinks, and you can just tell us if you like them or not, okay sweetheart?" Wanda asks.

"Okay, that sounds good."

"Bondage?"

"Yes."

"Spanking?"

"Yes."

"Praise?"

"Yes."

"Choking?"

"Yes."

"You're a dirty little thing, aren't you baby? It'd probably be easier for us to just ask what you aren't into huh?" Wanda teases you.

"Yeah, unless you'd like to be here all day," you say.

"I'd have no objections to that," Natasha says, making you giggle. "So what aren't you into baby?"

"Blood, scat, feet, extreme pain, ummm," you say, trying to think of more. "I think that's it, or it's all I can think of right now."

"I knew you'd be a dirty little thing," Wanda tells you.

"How do you feel about calling Wanda mommy and me daddy?" Natasha asks, slightly changing the subject.

"I'd really like that," you say. You can already feel your pussy starting to drip just talking about all of these kinks, and your neediness is starting to get to you.

"It looks like you really like that princess," Wanda says, her eyes trained on your lap, where you had been trying to subtly adjust yourself, trying to relieve the pressure in your core.

A whine is the only thing that leaves your lips, and it surprises the two women.

"Sounds like you need some help baby," Natasha says.

"Please," you beg.

Natasha gets up from her chair and goes to stand behind you. She leans down, her lips lightly grazing you ear. "Are you sure baby? I know we said we'd ease you into this, and if you don't want to do anything sexual right now we don't have to," Natasha says, wanting to make sure you're alright.

"I'm sure, please touch me, I need you," you beg both of the women. Before the words had barely left your mouth you're being attacked by two sets of lips and hands. Wanda pulls you onto her lap, she lifts your skirt up a bit, adjusting you so that your panty covered mound is against her thigh.

Wanda's lips attach to the side of your neck while Natasha moves to stand behind the two of you, so that you are face to face with her. She tilts your head up so you can look at her. She presses her lips to yours and her kiss is surprisingly gentle.

Wanda's hand go to your hips, adjusting you so that you're straddling one of her thighs. Her detaches her lips from your neck so she can speak to you.

"Be a good little slut and ride mommy's thigh, baby," the woman says to you. You moan into Natasha's mouth, as she continues to kiss you while you start to slowly grind your hips.

"Come on baby. I know you can do better than that," Natasha says, encouraging you. You start to grind harder on Wanda's thigh, while Natasha's left hand makes it's way to your hair. She threads her fingers through your hair and tilts you head up. Wanda's hands stay on your hips, pushing you down onto her.

"Daddy knows you can go faster than that. Don't make me punish you," Natasha warns. Your hips speed up, your clit bumping against Wanda's thigh with every thrust. You can feel your high quickly approaching, your senses just so overwhelmed by the two women. Natasha's hand slips from your hair to your chest, her hand slipping underneath your shirt and bra, so she can pinch your nipples. The feeling almost sends you over the edge.

"Please, please, please," you beg, the need to cum approaching. The women's touches are overstimulating, it's like you can feel them everywhere.

"Use your words sweetheart. What's my little slut want?" Wanda says.

"Please mommy, please daddy, let me cum," you beg, your thrusts starting to get sloppy as you start to lose control over yourself.

"Cum for us baby," one of the women say, although you're not sure which one it is, too caught up in your pleasure to notice.

Your loud moans fill up the room as you cum all over Wanda's thigh, your panties becoming soaked and sticky as your cum leaks out of your pussy and into them.

"You did such a good job baby," Wanda says. She moves you so that your arms are wrapped around her neck and she presses gentle kisses to your face.

"You're such a good girl, doing everything we asked so perfectly," Natasha praises. The praise makes you cling onto Wanda more, making you more needy than you already are, but the two women don't mind. 'Do you wanna go shower sweetheart?"

"But what about you two?" you ask, referencing the fact that neither woman came.

"This was just about you baby. You can help us out some other time," Wanda says.

"Then can I take a bath please?"

"Of course angel, anything for you," Natasha says.

The three of you make your way to the bathroom, passing through what you think is Natasha and Wanda’s bedroom to get there. Natasha grabbing soap and a wash cloth for you while Wanda makes the bath for you.

"Bubbles or no bubbles?"

"Bubbles please," you say. Wanda grabs her favorite bubble bath and pours some into the tub for you. Soon the tub is filled up and the two women go to leave when you stop them.

"Can you join me please? Unless you don't want to, which is fine," you say quickly, your voice trailing off at the end.

"Of course we'll join you honey," Natasha says. Pretty soon the three of you are sitting in the massive tub, bubbles surrounding the three of you. You’re cuddled in between the two women, while they both bath you.

“Okay are you right to get out now?” Wanda asks. You nod yes and let the two women help you out. They dry you off and give you some of their own clothes to wear.

“Thank you,” you tell the two women once you were dressed, sleepiness lacing your voice.

“You’re welcome sweetheart,” Wanda says, leaving a gentle kiss on your nose.

“Of course, honey,” Natasha says, gently kissing your cheek. “Do you need a nap baby?”

“Yes please,” you say. Hearing you say yes please melts the two women’s hearts, not that they would tell you that though.

The two women take you to their room and lay you gently in the bed. They crawl in too, surrounding you on both sides.

“Go to sleep honey. We’ll be here when you wake up,” Wanda says. The two women leave kisses on your head while you cuddle into them, eventually drifting off.

Once you’re asleep the two women share a look and they both know what the other is thinking. They like you a lot, way more than they’ve ever liked a sugar baby before, and they don’t know what it means yet. But they will gladly find out.

taglist: @alexawynters @marvelwomen-simp @tobiaslut @flositaa

#black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wandanat x reader #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #sugar mommy!natasha #sugar mommy!wanda #black widow #smut #natasha x reader smut #wanda x reader smut

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alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

Text

landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #hi bam!!!!#ian #jungkook fluff

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itstheghostofmypast · 3 months

Text

15.07

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?

Genre: PURE FLUFF

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: 2.1K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING

@edenesth version: [12.58]PM

"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.

Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.

"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."

Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"

"No, why?"

"Do you like cats?"

"Yeah, why?"

He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.

The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.

"Can I put the litter here?"

"All your windows are locked right?"

"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."

"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."

"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"

He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.' Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.

"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.

Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.

She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.

"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "

"I'm taking her to the vet."

"She's shivering."

"Okay, my car isn't working!"

'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."

"They say she has a fever, some bug?"

"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."

"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."

"San plz reply soon."

"San I'm scared."

Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.

"San!"

His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.

"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."

It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”

“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”

After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.

Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."

Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.

Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"

"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"

"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.

"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."

"What an analogy." she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."

"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.

“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”

Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”

“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”

“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”

Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.

“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.

“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

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jojissalsa · 7 months

Text

Perfect body, Pretty face

Warnings: dom!Leon x fem/sub!reader, power dynamics (boss/assistant), daddy kink, mentions of nudes/sex work, taking pictures during sex, facial, condescension, slight praise, mentions of age gap (reader is in mid 20s), clothes ripping (tights), reader is bratty at some point.

hello again :3 i wanna post what i can while i have the time, so i can kinda build this page up. hope u guys enjoy this one even if i feel like i made a few mistakes and lmk where i can improve! constructive criticism, reposts and requests are always welcome :D (minors don’t interact, touch grass.)

WC: 3.3k (proofread)

When Leon first came to the D.S.O, he expected bigger missions and harder work. Not boring ass reports and paperwork. The missions were definitely longer, which meant piles atop piles of paperwork that would take longer than it should. When the D.S.O realized Leon needed more time on his reports compared to the rookies or standard agents, they gave him a hand. You, his new assistant. And god, were you helpful. You were more than a sight for sore eyes, you were distracting at first, but even more so as he got to know you. You even remembered his favorite coffee order, and what he liked most for lunch. To him, you were just doing a good job. But in reality, you just wanted to get in his pants more than anything.

Your last boss was such a douchebag, the typical mansplaining and ungratefulness. But Leon? He was such a sweetheart, and so understanding. He didn’t get annoyed when you made a tiny mistake, a couple minutes late or working slower at the end of your shift. You knew damn well your attraction to him was bad for you and this job, but Eve still ate that apple didn’t she? You were the same, always attracted to forbidden fruit. But when it was Leon, who cares about forbidden? It just adds to the flavor. Obviously being an assistant didn’t make the most money, but at least you got a pretty face to work with. And there’s no shame in a side hustle, right? That’s what you thought when you made a Twitter account when you first became an assistant, well, intern at first. The job was so damn stressful and your shitty boss didn’t help. It was harmless fun at first, posting a few lewd pictures of your cleavage or in cute two-piece bathing suits you got. And then it got even lewder, posting pictures of your bare tits, dim lighting from your computer, things like that until you said fuck it and showed all the goods. Complaining about your shitty boss became part of your brand, as well as the faceless part of your nudes. You never showed your face, only your hair if it was a full body picture, not because you were ashamed of what you were doing. Not in the slightest, actually. You were just worried about word spreading around the office, especially since you were getting fairly popular. No face, no case, right? Plus, it’s not like anyone had x-ray vision to see if you had the same tits. It’s not like it hurt business either, you had a perfect body. You weren’t the skinniest person in the world, average like most people’s bodies. But to you, it was perfect. It suited you and flaunting it made you happy.

Your brand definitely shifted when you changed bosses, less complaining about how much your job sucked to more complaining about how badly you needed your boss to look at you differently. Pictures of you up-skirt under your desk whenever he wasn't looking or left to grab you both coffee or lunch, captions that always mentioned him.

"is it bad that my boss gets me this wet?"

"wish my boss would crawl under my desk and take care of this ;p"

And they would only get more and more risky. Posts of your increasingly skimpy outfits and a courtesy picture of you out of them captioned "you guys think my boss will like? lol". A video of you cumming in the bathroom at work, another where you cheekily slipped your fingers in your cunt, rubbing your slick over your clit before giggling as you turn the recording off.

Leon really didn’t mean to find something of yours this personal, he was just a guy looking for porn where he knew he could find it. He may be old but the man still needs to get off. And he was a man of taste, he liked the amateur stuff, and he knew Twitter had it. When he stumbled across your account, he thought it was perfect. At first he didn't know it was you, but by your most recent posts, it was obvious. You never name dropped him, or even said what he looked like, only saying he was fine and looked like a dilf, which was definitely an ego boost when he figured out it was you. It was easy, really. He was bored at night, couldn’t sleep like usual, and hoped that jacking off would clear his head a bit. It didn’t clear his head in the slightest when he saw your most recent video. It was of you working overtime, fingering yourself on his desk. Biting your lip to stay quiet but failing miserably as your fingers keep rubbing against that spongy spot in your walls, palm slapping against your clit. The best part? You said his name while you came. Maybe not his full name, but the way you let it out subconsciously, saying "Mr. Kennedy" in the most pornographic way possible, realizing you did and then giggling when you felt no remorse. Only an "oh shit" and a cutesy laugh as you abruptly ended the video. He was gonna say something tomorrow. He had to.

The second you walk in the door with that polite smile you always have, cute pink blouse and short pencil skirt, he waves you over to his desk. "Y/n, come here for a sec." His stern tone makes you blush and immediately walk over after setting down your bag. "Yes, sir? Is there something you need from me?" You expect him to say he needs a file or some kind of paper, but he shocks you when he turns his monitor around to show your twitter page. "You know anything about this?" You don't show it on your face, but the way you clench your jaw makes it obvious. You've got a good poker face, he'll give you that. "No sir, am I supposed to?" You get a bit of an attitude, mainly because he just totally called you out. "I don't know, you tell me." He scrolled very little down to your last post, the video. You gulp, knowing damn well you said his name. "Is that you saying my name?" His tone is still stern, but it feels more teasing now, considering his cocky smirk. He has you in a corner. "Don't you think it's a little sleazy to be prying into my personal hobbies?" Your attitude gets more prominent, crossing your arms and giving him a sharp glare. You were more prideful than anything, his smugness starting to piss you off because of how turned on you were getting. "Don't you think it's a bit slutty to finger fuck yourself on my desk?" When he shot back at you with that you froze, face going completely red. Not only was he right, you had no room to talk about his habits, but the way he said it was so fucking hot it lit a fire in you, shockwaves shooting straight to your clit.

You felt uncomfortable under his gaze, your lips parted as you felt your pulse throbbing between your thighs, knowing your panties were soaked. "You gonna say something or just come over here already? Stop wasting my time, I have work to do." It was instant when he said that, hips swaying as you walked to him, holding your hands in front of you as you looked down at the ground. "What's got you all shy? You certainly weren't shy last night." His teasing was really getting to you, making your lips squeeze as you shift your thighs again, your chest feeling so heavy with every breath you took. "Didn't I tell you not to waste my time? Sit on my desk and spread your legs." Your breath hitches at his demanding words, hopping up on his desk and spreading your legs. You thank god that it was a little chilly today, making you wear sheer black tights. Not that you'd be wearing them long, you just hope the wet spot on your panties wasn’t noticeable. "Jesus, soaked through your fucking tights? You're that excited?" His teasing made you go wide eyed, whimpering at his smug gaze piercing through you. "Yes sir.." You finally manage to speak, even if it sounds breathless and needy. Your eyes stay steady on him, taking in every feature you can. You lick your lips from the sight of his hard cock pressed against his tight slacks, not daring to close your legs in the slightest even if you were desperate for friction. "See something you like?" You watch him palm over his hard on, just watching something that sinful makes you moan softly. "I thought you said not to waste your time? What are you waiting for?" You throw any bit of shyness out the window, brattiness taking its place instead. After all, he meddled into something private, why make it easy for him? That’s no fun~

His brows furrowed as he gives you an annoyed look, groaning in frustration as he shoots up from his office chair and grabs your waist, pulling you from his desk and flipping you to bend over. He certainly doesn't waste any time now, pulling your skirt up and ripping a massive hole in your tights, making you gasp and squirm, turning your head to try and see the damage. "Don't complain, no point in denying you like it. Why else are your panties fucking drenched?" You throw him a frustrated glare before grumbling something about those being expensive under your breath. "Sorry, what was that?" You gasp as his hand slams down harshly on your ass cheek, whining at his gentle kneading on the now stinging red spot. "You're trying so hard to be bratty, when you're usually such a sweet girl. Always coming here early, bringing me coffee, remembering my favorite lunch. You don't do that because you like this job, hell, a slut like you doesn’t care about working hard. You do it because you want my attention." His hand keeps kneading the fat of your ass, making you back up into his palm for more. That doesn't stop your attitude though. "Oh boo hoo, as if you didn't love every second of it. How'd you even find my page? The nursing home gives you internet after 10?" Your bitchy tone doesn't go unnoticed by him, and neither does your smug smirk that is clearly challenging him, if anything it lights the same fire inside him, dick twitching under his slacks. He shoots you a glare that says "you really wanna do this?", as if you care about that silly warning. What's the worst he could do? "Y'know they shouldn't give a pervy old man like you access to stuff like that, it rots your brain~" You get cut off by another slap on your ass, harder than the last one, he doesn't even bother to soothe the sting with his hand. "Pervy old man? Then what are you? Some slut thinking of her boss's cock all day. How high and mighty." Another slap, and you're already unraveling by the second, the tingling sensation from his spanks sending shock after shock to your clit.

"You go on and on about me on that damn site for thousands to see, so why not take what you want? You're getting nowhere by being an ungrateful brat." He's really starting to make sense with how desperate you are to be touched, for that release you so desperately need. And with how hard his spanking is getting, it's making your head dizzy. He presses his hard-on against your ass, making you whine and grind against him. That's not enough for him though, he needs you to say it, the same way you said his name last night. "C'mon pretty girl, get what you want and ask for it, I know you can." He grinds against your ass, finally snapping through the sane part of your brain. "Fuck! Fine, please, please give it to me, I can't wait anymore, please Mr. Kennedy.." You beg in a gravelly voice, nails digging into his desk as the neediness in you builds. "Need what? You can say it." He slaps your ass again, a little gentler now that you're finally getting there, sliding his hand down to press his thumb on the gusset on your panties, hissing at how wet it felt. "Your cock, Leon, please, I need your cock so bad.." You whimper in broken fragments from your voice breaking, sighing in relief as he finally pulls down your panties, feeling your slick connect to them in strings and the cool air contrasting how hot you feel. As you heard the sound of metal clinking and a zipper pulled down you wished he flipped you over, because you really wanted to see his cock, turning your head in a desperate attempt to steal a quick glance. "Don't worry baby, you'll get a good look later." You don't care enough to question him, you care more about his tip pressed against your folds, threatening to stretch you open.

The coil of anticipation that's released when he finally slides inside you is the most euphoric feeling, growling as he fills you completely, balls nestled right against your clit. "Fuck, barely had to do anything and it slipped in so easy. Like you were made to take this cock, huh, sweetheart?" He goes slow at first, letting you adjust to his thick size, agonizing in how slow he drags his cock along your walls. All you can mutter is 'yes' like a mantra to keep you in reality, but every stroke is sending you further into that cloudy part of your brain where all you can think about is how you can feel everything. His hands on your hips to keep you in place, the way his cock kisses right against your cervix then pulls all the way out just to make you drunk off the feeling, his low and heavy grunts dangerously close to your ear, and it's all getting you even more impatient and needy. "Leon, please, go faster, need it faster." You speak through broken sobs and high pitched whines, looking back at him with a pleading pout. You can't say no to this cute face, can you? His nails dig into your hips, finally fucking you faster, and so much harder, you can feel the air in your lungs get choked out with every harsh thrust. "Just can't help yourself, can you? So fucking impatient." He can hear you getting louder, and between you and the sound of skin slapping against wet skin, he can at least silence one. "So loud, the whole fucking office can probably hear you." He puts his hand over your mouth and pulls your head up, body arching backwards as your head meets his shoulder. You can barely make out his smug grin as he looks down at you, glossy eyes with blown out pupils, your cheeks flushed a deep red.

"You look so pretty like this, looking up at me without a thought in that pretty little head. Just needed Daddy to fuck you stupid, huh?" He gets a wicked chuckle at your wide eyes, the way you clench tighter and move your hips to meet his rhythm. You curse yourself mentally for tweeting about that godforsaken daddy kink you have, or any of your kinks because now he knows every little thing that makes you tick. How frustrating. "Ohhh, didn't think I would look that far? You have no idea, spent hours looking at your stuff, even during missions I couldn't help but think about this sweet pussy wrapped around my cock." Your expression goes blank at his words, completely cockdrunk. You know you shouldn't do any of this, you can only imagine how much trouble you’d be in if someone walked in right now. But who could blame you? You couldn't name a single person who would throw away an opportunity like this. Who needs responsibility when you could have the simple yet intense pleasure that Leon Kennedy brings?

"Almost went crazy when I heard my name in that dirty fucking mouth, never been that hard in my life. Gonna make sure that mouth is full of my name every chance I get." You scream and whimper, the sound rumbling against his hand as you get closer and closer, toes curling into your heels. The sight is so damn beautiful to him, and he just has to see what you look like when you cum in person. When you cum on his cock, not some silly toy that could never satisfy you the way he can. His free hand takes its time sliding up your blouse to palm your tits over your bra, his fingers raking over the soft skin of your stomach before stilling at your bunched up skirt around your waist, right above your clit. "You wanna cum, don't you, baby? You're gonna be good and ask nicely, yeah? Go ahead, tell Daddy you wanna cum." He moves his hand away from your mouth but keeps your head up, gripping your face instead, watching as you greedily suck in air between mindless moans. "Please Daddy, please, please, please let me cum, need to cum so fucking bad-" Your pathetic babbling cuts off when his fingers put pressure on your clit, rubbing fast circles that make your brows frown as your walls clench, the knot in your stomach slowly coming undone. "There you go, such a good girl, asking me so nicely. Cum for me, sweet girl, cum on my cock for me." And you do, harder than you have in a while, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see white spots, those sweet, broken sobs leaving your lips involuntarily, moaning his name as he slows down.

Before you know it, you're on your knees in front of him, finally getting a full, up close and personal view of his fat cock. He's thick, pre-cum pearling at his tip as he uses your slick to finish himself off, fisting his cock feverishly. "Told you you'd get a better look, now open up sweetheart. Gonna cover that pretty face in my cum, maybe even take a picture for those depraved little boys that get off on you." He’s one to talk.. His grunts and soft whimpers between his words make you bite back an eager grin, lolling your tongue out and getting blessed with the salty taste on his tip. You keep your lips pursed on his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes that make his cock kick in his hand, your own hands resting on his thighs. He pulls some hair away from your face with his free hand and keeps it there as he finally coats your cheeks and tongue with pools of cum, chuckling through breathless moans as he slaps his cock on your tongue. He grabs his phone as his free hand leaves your hair to press his thumb on your tongue, keeping your mouth open. He groans with a smug smirk as you look up into the camera, a clear, empty head as drool dribbles down your chin and onto his fingers holding your chin. "You'll get this picture tonight when I drive you home, 'kay?" He helps you back to your feet, cleaning off your face with his handkerchief and pulling your skirt down, fixing your wrinkled blouse. “Now go finish those reports for me, try not to work too slow, don’t wanna work overtime, do you?” He softly strokes your back, coaxing you closer to your desk. "Yes, Mr. Kennedy.." You breathe out, still wobbly on your feet as you walk to your desk, feeling the sting on your ass as you sit down, shivering at the tingle. Worth it.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #leon resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy infinite darkness #resident evil smut #smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

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Belle Mort || LN4

AN: this was deep in the archives of abandoned fics but figured I’ll just post it anyway.

Pairing: Lando Norris x vampire!fem!reader

Summary: Your paths weren’t meant to cross - he was a famous driver and your brethren were the thing of myths and nightmares.

Warnings: smut, major character death

He didn’t belong here.

You could only surmise Vinny let him in the club because he knew an easy target when he saw one. Rich, young and handsome - he was ripe for the taking. A part of you knew not to get involved but, unlike your brother, you had a small conscience, especially when it came to the pretty, blue-eyed man who had shared your bed.

Making your way across the busy dance floor of Belle Mort, you snaked between the women who were selling themselves to the richest man one sway of their hips at a time. You slapped away roaming hands that tried to pull you into their laps and glared at the men until they looked away with wounded egos.

Your brother spotted the target and you stepped lightly in your high heels as you dodged the revellers, finally making it in front of the handsome man. “Qu'est-ce que tu fais, garçon perdu?”

Lando smirked as he cast his eyes over your body, the tight fitted dress hiding very little of the body he knew intimately. “I don’t speak French.”

“I know.”

His hand caught your waist and pulled you closer, his lips brushing your cheek. “You didn’t call me.”

You rolled your eyes at the need that laced his words, but it would have been a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it. You had even kept his number when you should have deleted it. Your worlds were so far apart you didn’t see the point in making it more than a one night stand, it was safer that way. “I know. Find another bar.”

“I like this one.” His hand tightened and his thumb brushed over your ribs, tracing the curve under your breast. His smirk grew as he felt your ribs expand with the sharp intake of air you took.

“You’ve never been here before.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I own it.”

“Co-own, dear sister,” Nix added as he stepped to your side. “And if Lando wants to party then who are we to deny him.”

You narrowed your eyes at your brother. “It’s bad for business.”

“Why? Because you mixed it with pleasure,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair, cracking your neck as he pushed you away to leer at the man himself. “I can see the appeal. No one can deny you have good taste, it’s just a shame you always leave them broken.”

“What’s he talking about?” Lando asked as he helped keep you steady from your brother's push.

“Nix has always been jealous of me, haven’t you?” you taunted him. “Always wanted my dolls for himself.”

Nix’s jaw ticked and if the music wasn’t so loud you probably could have heard a tooth break. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I’m on a break,” you stated, catching Lando’s attention as you grabbed his wrist and started to drag him to your office before freezing. Your hand met bare skin and you held your hand out to your brother. “Give it back. Now.”

Nix rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket to return the watch he had easily lifted from Lando. The glass and diamond face slapped into your palm but you curled a brow at him and cleared your throat, waiting for the rest.

“You really used to be more fun,” he grumbled as he returned Lando’s wallet too. “Don’t worry, the condom is still in there.”

“And the cash?”

“I don’t think that is really your worry, but yes, cash too.”

Nix disappeared into the crowd and even you found it difficult to trace his movements but he was one of the fastest vampires you knew.

“Interesting family you have,” Lando commented as the music was cut off with your office door.

“You should be more careful,” you warned as you slid the security chain onto the latch. “This side of town could get a guy like you killed.”

“A guy like me?” he asked as he accepted the whiskey you poured, neat. “Handsome?”

“Well known,” you corrected, despite his knowing smirk. Of course you found him handsome, or else you wouldn’t have let him fuck you in the bathrooms of another nightclub in the city. You had a business meeting, with a wolf no less, and the owner had left you displeased, so you found another form of pleasure in his den. “Where you go, pictures are taken. That is bad for my business.”

Who knew what illegal activities those pictures or videos might capture and be uploaded. Voices had been silenced for less in the dark alleys around the club - but the bodies were never found.

Lando took a sip as he weighed your words of warning, but it didn’t stop him wanting to go another round with you. He knew you were different from the moment he saw you. Determination and strength rolled off you as you stalked through the club to a door labelled ‘staff only’. A different look of determination had been seen when you emerged, scanning the crowd for someone to use - he had come to the club for the same reason.

“I can be invisible, when I want to be,” he promised as he followed you to the desk you leaned back on, crossing your heeled ankles in front of you. He placed the glass on the wood beside you and smelt the smooth spirit on his breath when he kissed the corner of your lips. “But I wanted you to notice me, again.”

His hand ran down your thighs and your ankles uncrossed. He took the space given and parted your legs so he could step between them and steal your moan with his kiss. His tongue parted your lips with the same confidence he parted your legs and he hummed when your hands slipped under his shirt, your nails dragging down his spine.

“I’m going to fuck you on your desk and every time you have a meeting here you will think of me.”

Desire pooled between your thighs at the promise and when his fingers found your body bare beneath the dress he felt it slick and warm. “You like that idea don’t you?” he chuckled in your ear, the deep timber of his gravelled voice making you clench around his fingers before they withdrew from you. “Turn around.”

For a woman who considered herself to be the bossy one, you were quick to follow his instruction and it didn’t go amiss from the smirk on his face. “I don’t remember you being this demanding last time,” you said over your shoulder, feeling the air on your skin as he pushed your dress up over your hips.

“That’s because you looked like you needed it more than me.” He flipped his wallet open and pulled the condom out, tearing through the foil packaging before rolling it down his hard length. With one swipe of his arm he cleared space on your desk and started to push you down before he changed his mind and spun you to face him. “Actually, I want to see your face when I make you come.”

The mahogany wood was hard under your ass and you spread your knees for Lando to step between. His cock pressed to your entrance and he watched your lips part as he slowly began to stretch you, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside you.

“You’re going to call me, aren’t you?” he asked with the teasingly slow retreat he made. He stopped just short of leaving you empty and made no move to fill you again. “I’m not going to fuck you until you answer me.”

You tried to shuffle your hips closer but he held them tight and your feet were off the ground so you couldn’t move, not without revealing your unnatural strength. Finally a frustrated sound left your lips and he smiled triumphantly when you agreed. “Now would you please fuck me?”

He answered with the snap of his hips and you moaned in unison as he filled you completely. The computer screen came to life and the mouse moved with the rocking desk and the cup of pens tipped over, scattering among the mess he had already made. Stars danced across your vision and your body pulsed with the deep bass that made it through the soundproof door.

“Lando,” you moaned as you tipped his head back, baring his neck as you felt your canines elongating behind your lips. The throb of his rapid pulse invited you to taste him and you dragged your nose over the vein, inhaling the rich scent hidden beneath his cologne. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

He shivered as your teeth grazed his skin but he was too far gone in his pleasure to question the sharp points. Just a little sip, you told yourself.

Lando gasped as pain flared, but just as quickly as it came it bled to a burn that felt better than any high he had ever had. He couldn’t breathe as you sucked at the puncture wounds, filling your belly with the same need you had for his cock.

He couldn’t explain how he found himself sat on the couch in your office with you on his lap, he had only blinked. You were high on him, making silly errors like using your speed and strength carelessly. You weren’t new to this life, but you were acting like it with him.

“Why did you come here?”

His head fell back and his eyes closed as you took your pleasure in riding him. He couldn’t think, there was only the tight feeling in all his muscles as his orgasm threatened to shatter him beneath you. “Just wanted you,” he choked as he bucked his hips up to meet you. “Again.”

You cried out as your climax peaked and Lando followed, unable to hold back with how tight you felt around him. Your head spun as the high receded, but you wanted more - it was the curse of immortality, you always wanted more.

You turned his head and struck again, lapping at the twin lines of life blood running down his collar. Cursing inwardly, you realised you were taking too much, you always took too much when you played with your food. Lando’s eyes fluttered shut and his breathing laboured, his skin fading before your eyes. Nix was right, you always left them broken.

“Fuck,” you growled at the thought of losing another man. Tearing the skin from your wrist you made what was possibly the second biggest mistake of your life, the first would always be asking for this life. Your blood was thicker and darker than his, staining his lips as you squeezed it out before the wound could heal.

“Wake up…” You prayed you weren’t too late, the seconds ticking by with quiet reassurance that time would continue to move on even if Lando never did again.

—

Nix crashed through the office door as dawn approached and the club closed. His black eyes found Lando’s body on the couch and a sneer carved across his lips. “What a waste.”

You barely lifted your head from your hands as you sat at your desk. You had felt lethargic from a full belly and drained veins. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You never do,” he snickered. “There will be people looking for him, I’ll have Vinny dump him in the marina - another rich boy who partied too hard.”

Lando gasped as he jolted upright, his eyes ringed red from the transformation, and a war waged within you. Rage exuded from Nix as he realised the danger you had put the entire coven in and his features sharpened as his fangs pierced his lips. “You would bring the Council down on our heads, sister?”

“I said I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t stand to see another die because of my weakness.”

“I would rather you have just killed him.” Nix pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. To change a human required petitioning to the Council, and permits were rarely given this century - and certainly not to those well known. People tend to notice when someone doesn’t age at the same rate: Jennifer Anniston, Cillian Murphy, Paul Rudd, Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Those half breeds could get away with it for a little longer but they would soon be faking their own deaths to keep the secret of their heritage.

“Take him to the mountains,” Nix said as he crossed the room to where Lando writhed in pain on the carpet, the transition destroying his delicate human cells for something much more robust. “I’ll tie up the loose ends here.”

Nix took the car keys from Lando’s pocket and checked his watch. There was still enough time before dawn came to wreck the car off the cliffs and into the French Riviera. When the car was found empty they would assume his body was carried out to sea. Lando Norris was dead. Lando de Belle Mort had risen.

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #vampire!reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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pia-nor481 · 6 months

Text

Champion of the world

Max Verstappen x reader smut

3.1k words

Max had preformed so well this year. He won races and was on the podium often and yet he couldn't help but feel anxious. Max was one of those people who often bottled their feeling and thoughts up, thinking it was the best idea, when in fact, it was not. They were sat in his red bull drivers room before the start of the race. "Max it will be okay, you'll do amazing like always. You've spent so much of your life racing and preparing for racing, it's your time." Her words didn't soothe him all that much, no matter how right she was, nothing would get through to him. "That doesn't mean I'll win, anything could happen on the track, no matter how good of a driver I am. There could be a safety car, someone could crash into me, the engine could fail or a really slow pitstop." He always made it worse for him self, yes all those things were possible, but it didn't mean it was all going to happen and ruin the race. He still had a chance of winning the championship. She looked up at him, trying to hide her disappointment in his statement, he was sat above her on top of what was the most uncomfortable 'bed', while she sat with her legs crossed on the floor, she enjoyed max looking down at her, regardless of the context.

They where in this position often, every race she turned up to, Max was on the top step of the podium, he knew it was superstitious, but he felt as though she was a good luck charm. Monaco was the first race she attended, rushing down from their flat towards the paddock after spending a little too much time in bed with Max. They'd ended up in his drivers room once again, her pulling the zip of his race suit up, not without him running his hands over her body. They quickly made a rule, if she was dressing him, he could undress her. It often lead to her freezing adorning just underwear. It made max relax, and she'd do anything to ensure that. But it max didn't win, even if he left covered in champagne and walking away with a trophy, it didn't seem to be enough.

So Max would lock him self in his so called 'office' of their shared flat and worsen his eyesight by staring at a screen. He would spend said time analysing data and strategies, or watching previous races trying to see where he would lose time, and then use the sim for hours on end. Max would barely leave the room, Jimmy and Sassy would often scratch at the door wanting their owner's attention, but would hardly get it. She would be left to look after his cats, and try to look after him. She would try everything possible to make Max leave those four walls, mainly make him some sort of meal, depending on the hour. First she'd call out to him, and get no response, then she'd text, again no response. Finally she walk straight into the room and just place the plate on his desk, hoping he might actually acknowledge her. But he never really did. Of course Max appreciated everything she did, he just wasn't overly connected. Most nights she'd go to bed with out him, and be woken up at an ungodly hour upon feeling the bed dip slightly, but when she would reach out in the morning, his side of the bed would be cold. Although the dishes she left in the sink last night were washed, there was no trace of her boyfriend anywhere. Not even in the sim room.

Around three hours later, Max would come back drained, clearly coming back from what was a particularly difficult training session. His kissed her on the lips before promptly walking toward the bathroom. She knew that he wouldn't be seen again for a while. This became a cycle for the couple. Until it was Saturday, post qualifying was always a fun time. Max usually felt better about racing when he was starting on the front row. This usually fixed the slight drift in their relationship; Max became a lot more aware for what he was doing, the proper term would be neglecting, but it would take him a while to come out of this hyper focus and begin to look after himself, and his girlfriend of course. He wouldn't leave her side, man felt so debilitated because of his actions, then he often would feel his heart thumping loud in his ears. His cortisol levels would have been sky high, a long with his disappointment in himself. He couldn't believe that she would still be loving and caring towards him, after all he had been putting her through this year. She must have felt so lonely, so unloved, and yet she would still kiss him like there was no tomorrow. She never turned him down because she loved him dearly.

"I love you, thank you so much for everything, you honestly don't know how much I appreciate it, appreciate you." It seemed like a simple sentence that would be written in cursive inside of a birthday card, yet Max meant every word. It would clear the stress of points was getting to him. He was so irritable and angry, he couldn't sleep and constantly had headaches even paracetamol could cure. It was daunting to see her boyfriend in such a way. "Max, just come to bed, please, I'm struggling to sleep without you here." She already had to settle with out cuddles, max felt as though he got too warm in bed, but now having to sleep without him. It was becoming too much. "I need to win the next few races, I don't want to get far behind in the points." Receiving 12.5 points in Belgium wasn't particularly helpful in this situation.

"Give me a kiss before you go." She almost begged as Max stood up, the national anthem was going to start soon and so he needed to be out in the pad ok by now. So he pulled her closer by the waist and connected their lips. She gripped his upper arm in the process, just wanting to feel him once again. They stayed like this for a few minutes, not wanting to let go, she may have not realised it, but Max felt most relaxed in her presence, feeling her helped the most though. "I love you"

The race was horrifying. Abu dabi was already a tricky race, that coupled with a safety car was not great for Max. He was however, capable of over taking Lewis Hamilton, and thereby won the race. Elated was all Max could feel, finally he was able to take a full breath and smile, he finally felt relaxed in away; stress free. He was practically screaming down the radio. Max was the world champion and he was ecstatic. After coming down from the high of a win, max decided he wanted another. You wouldn't think Max verstappen would be overly fond of a quicky, due to his nature of trying hard and making things perfect, that should take time, but it was something he enjoyed, the thought of getting caught was such a turn on for him. "Come here." He stated, grabbing her, not overly rough, that however was not his thing. Covered in champagne, Max pulled her back towards his drivers room, and as soon as the door was shut he pulled her close. His mouth immediately attacked her neck and she moaned out, running her hands up his body and into his hair, tugging on it slightly. "Don't start, baby."

Max was angry, the fact he had to ask on multiple occasions if they were sure he won was most likely the cause. He liked to be dominant, he always was, in every aspect of his life. He slid his hands over her back and under her ass, pulling her up so she could wrap her legs around his hips, he gently, as possible, placed her on the bed of the room. Max didn't let go, he was being possessive. His hand constantly made contact with her skin. Just as he slid his hand between her thighs she moaned out, "Please Max." Everything he did always felt good, she felt it through out her whole body. She pulled the zip of his race suit down and began palming his cock, he groaned at the feeling, becoming a little more loud than usual. "Please Max, just fuck me already." She knew they were running out of time, he had places to be.

As Max slid in he felt as though he was losing all control of himself. With every thrust of his hips he got closer to ecstatic, he reached down again, putting pressure on her clit, making sure she was getting as close as he was. Her moans echoed through out the room as Max sped up, rubbing faster circles on her skin. "Feels so good." She was losing the ability to form coherent sentences, thoughts too, Max knew she was close and wouldn't leave the room until she was satisfied. "Cum with me, love" He practically moaned out, leaning closer to her body. With her eyes still rolled to the back of her head, Max pulled out slowly, almost rushing to pull his clothes back on properly. She sat there for a while, watching Max, she was so happy to just be around him, that much was clear with the smile on her face, she was so blissed out, not that Max was surprised. They'd not had sex for a few weeks, so she'd not cum in a while. Once he didn't look disheveled, he began to kiss her lightly, wanting to provide some form of comfort before he had to disappear for interviews and debriefing. "I've got to go, love" he spoke softly as he shifted closer to the edge of the bed, and so, he kissed her and help do the buttons of her top up. "I know, I'll go back to the hotel and get ready, it seems like we have a lot of celebrating to do." With one final kiss to the forehead before walking towards the door. She knew that going to a club tonight wasn't nonnegotiable, they would all be getting immensely drunk.

Once they got off of Max's private jet, they practically rushed towards their flat. Max hooked his arm around her neck as they approached the front door, he was yawning the whole ride over, Max was exhausted, not physically but mentally; the stress of the season was really affecting him. "Talk to me, please, love." She looked over to him as the words left her mouth, she placed her phone and keys on the table and looked at him again. "About what?" Max looked a little on the pale side compared to normal, yet he still tried to give her everything he had. "How you are actually feeling, I hate to say it, but I'm going to because I love you so much, you seem to be so worn out, you need real rest, and yet I know you will be in that sim room, trying to improve your already amazing performance." A small trace of defeat laced her words, Max did become a tad bit displeased with the statement, but he didn't have the strength to be more than so. "Everyone thinks I cheated, as if there's a point of racing. There's no point in winning if I didn't try for it; and I know I've put in so much effort. I spent the better half of the year on the sim, I've had to get new glasses I've been staring at that screen for so long. But that's not even the worst part... I've driven you away in the process. I've been an awful boyfriend and no doubt made your life so much harder. I'm so sorry,love."

He felt so relieved having got that off of his chest, with rather loud sigh and a fall of his chest, Max walked towards her again, He rested his head on top her. "Oh Max, I love you, I'm not going to leave just because you were busy. You wanted to win and you definitely deserve it. You're right in the sense that locking yourself away for so long wasn't fair on me, but I knew how much you wanted this. And if it was going to make you happy, then it would make me happy." He was almost in tears. There wasn't anything they wouldn't do for each other. "You need to relax." She said, feeling his finger tug on her top slightly, before his hand slipped all the way up her chest. " I think I know how to relax." He smirked, grabbing her wrist and lightly pulling her towards their bedroom.

She pushed his chest lightly, forcing him to lay down on the bed, she enjoyed the feeling of warmth against her finger tips, Max's touch was divine. He began to sit up, reach out for her body. Her hands made contact again, while she spoke, "I don't think so." Her tone was teasing, she wanted him to feel good, he wanted to feel good, but she would control the when. "Oh, please, love. Don't tease me." Her hands slid over his torso, feeling every divot and muscle, the sensation was intense; max let out an exasperated sigh. As she climbed into his lap, she could feel his hard cock, it was almost painful. She palmed him once again, changing pressure to ensure he would be on the edge. He was practically moaning, the loudest she had ever heard him. "Be good." She whispered out, as his cock jumped. They had never discussed the possibility of Max having a praise kink, although he definitely deserved all the praise in the world after this season. "Did you like, hm? Do you like me calling you good? Or do you like when I tell you what to do?" Max's chest was rising and falling rapidly. "Answer me, Max." It didn't come across as aggressive, yet it was still demanding. He was shocked with himself, never did he think giving someone else completely control of his body would be so marvellous. She began to stroke his cock faster, slowing down every few moments to tease the tip, edging him further. "Yes, yes to all. Please, Love. Let me cum." He was virtually begging as she liked along the underside of his cock; the precum leaked heavily, and so she began sucking him dry. "Uh, yes." He could feel the sensation through out his entire body, and could hold back, her mouth quickly filled with his cum.

Max was panting as he sat up, making eye contact with her in the process. She leaned forward, kissing his neck, giving him as much attention as possible, he didn't cheat, never, not in any aspect of his life, he loved everything too much. He loved her. Her so called kisses left bright red marks all over his pale skin. "Sit back, baby." Max moved back towards the headboard, still blissed out and a little coherent; in the meantime, she slowly stripped of her clothes, giving him a little show while he caught his breath. Max's gaze shifted back towards her and he felt his cock harden again almost immediately, blood was rushing through his body rapidly. A lazy smirk dawned his face as she straddled him again, stoking him a bit before sitting down fully, taking him whole in her cunt. Her eyes rolled back temporarily at the feeling, it felt like he was in her stomach in this position; his hands rested firmly on her hip while she got used to the feel of the stretch. Max didn't have to say anything, she could tell by the look on his face, and the hunger in his eyes, that he felt euphoric, just being inside her.

"Fuck, Max, feels so good." He felt almost cocky at the statement, he didn't even have to do anything and she was already moaning. Max shifted slightly, bending his knees in an attempt to thrust his hips up, but her hands came down from his chest to stop his movements. "No, why won't you listen to me? I said you're not doing any of the work, and I mean it." As much as Max like control, he also liked to please. She began to lift her hips up and then down rather slowly, easing Max into it, without overstimulating him. She was already squeezing him tight, so it was hard for max to resist, he was desperate, desperate for her, desperate to cum. Her hands gripped the headboard for support, allowing her to fuck him faster, he moaned out as she leaned forward, almost coming off his cock completely. It all felt too good, they were both edging on ecstasy, so much so that Max's grip only tightened, leaving marks on her skin. Her hands came down from the bed and onto his chest as she began to ride him even faster, his eyes closed and mouth agape, he felt his legs start to shake slightly. "That's it, so good for me." She practically huffed out as his breath hitched. Max came hard, he could feel it through out his whole body; legs shakes, head thrashing with his eyes rolled to the back of his head, a choked out moan bounced off the walls in the process.

After riding out his high, her arms came down as she went to rest her head on his chest, silence filled the room for a moments as they both caught their breath. Her hands trailed over his body once again, this time, in a slightly less erotic way, a more comforting act. His hands slid up her back and into her hair, playing with it, this was an act they both enjoyed. "I love you." She knew that. “I’ll be better, I promise.” Light laughter filled his ears, “Max, I love you so much, don’t doubt that.” A smiled covered his face, he not only promised her, but himself; he felt terrible for what he did and so would never do it again. He could not treat her in such a way.

#f1 x reader #f1 x reader smut #f1 smut #33 max verstappen #max verstappen x reader smut #max verstappen x you #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #MV:33

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azrielslightintheshadows · 6 months

Note

Hello! I hope all is going well for you. Firstly i wanted to say thank you so much for these wonderful fics you have been posting lately. I am so happy i somehow stumbled upon your page and now am able to read so many beautifully written stories.

I was hoping you could write a fic with azriel where him and reader have known each other for a while, but later on when elain come in the picture along her sisters, reader feels left out because azriel isn't there with reader anymore and is spending more time with elain's company and this makes reader feel neglected because she can't voice her feelings for him. Perhaps rhysand or cassian see reader slowly being left out and decide to approach her and reader lets all her feelings out, so they can talk to azriel and azriel fixes everything with the reader...they could end up being mates...upto you. Thank youu❤️❤️

Idiot.

Azriel x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; angst, swearing.

Hello! Thank you for your kind words. I hope you enjoy it! I can rewrite it if you don't like it!

When you met Azriel you instantly fell in love with him, the darkness that surrounded him never bothered you and when he realized that, he opened up to you and after some years he considered you his best friend. It hurt at first and no matter how much you wanted to tell him about your feelings, you were too scared of ruining your friendship and losing him. So, you ignored the ache in your chest and prayed to the Cauldron that he would fall for you too. You never completely understood why you felt that pull to him, it was like you were hypnotized. His sharp face with those high cheekbones and the strong jawline, those full lips and hazel eyes and not to mention the body that looked like it was carved by the Mother herself to tempt the world. He was made from sin and the most dark and unholy dreams, his huge membranous wings adding to that terrifying aura around him. But what could bring everyone on their knees was his personality; If you managed to get past those adamant walls he has built around him you would be mesmerized by him, his personality is a light that pushes all his darkness away. Only a fool wouldn’t be enchanted by him, and you sure as hell aren’t a fool.

So now that the other two Archeron sisters burst into your life and the middle one showed interest in Azriel every ounce of patience you had dissolved. Azriel would wake up, find Elain, spend his day with her, have dinner with everyone and then disappear into his room. Not even a second spent on you, his alleged best friend.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were having breakfast with Cassian and Nesta in the house of wind when Azriel walked into the dining room.

“G’morning” Cassian mumbled as he chewed.

Azriel nodded and headed to the balcony.

“Az could you come pick me up around 4, I want to go to the bookstore.” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“I don’t think so, ask Cassian or Rhys” he replied without even looking at you and flared his wings, shooting up.

You turned your gaze to your plate and blinked the tears away.

“I can take you there” Cassian’s voice was soft, and his big palm rested on top of your own.

“It’s okay, excuse me” you whispered and got up leaving the room as quickly as you could.

“He’s such an idiot” Nesta said and continued eating.

Cassian was staring at the wall across him, his hand scratching his chin as he was lost deep in thought.

“I have to go” he said suddenly and got up. Nesta only nodded.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I’m telling you Rhys he is completely ignoring her. She looked so broken today” Cassian exclaimed and hit the desk with his hand.

Rhysand was staring at him, trying to remember the last time he had seen you and Azriel together.

“I believe you Cass, I will watch them today during dinner and if he is ignoring her, we will talk to him together.” He replied and waved a dismissive hand at him.

Cassian left the office; he passed one of the big windows and glanced outside. Azriel and Elain were standing in the garden, Elain was explaining something as she pointed to some flowers. The warlord shook his head and left; he knew that if he stayed longer, he would snap.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Everyone gathered in the dining room of the house of wind for dinner, Cassian and Rhys sharing a look and taking their seats. You entered a few minutes later and glanced around the table, your usual seat next to Azriel was taken by Elain, the only empty seat was between Cassian and Mor. “Az, do you want to change seats with me?” Cassian asked the moment you sat. Azriel furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you and y/n usually sit next to each other.” Cassian shrugged.

“Oh, no its okay” Azriel replied.

You let a shaky breath and picked your fork. Rhysand sighed and shook his head.

You didn’t know what happened during dinner, you were too busy keeping the tears back and thinking everything that was going on with Azriel. When everyone was done with their food, they moved to the living room with a bottle of wine. You tiptoed to your bedroom knowing that no one would notice and laid on your bed, letting the tears and sobs escape your body.

Cassian and Rhysand noticed though and they followed you. They stood in front of your door, their hearts breaking with every sob you let. Cassian opened the door, and they walked inside.

You felt the bed dipping.

“Az?” you asked as you turned to look.

Cassian’s expression turned from sad to angry. “That fucking idiot.” he growled.

“Y/n what’s going on?” Rhysand asked.

You were so tired of keeping all those feelings hidden, you couldn’t take it anymore, so you told them everything. How you instantly fell in love with Azriel, how you kept your feelings hidden in fear of losing him and how he broke your heart by spending all his time with Elain.

The two males frowned as you spoke.

“He is such an idiot, I told him to confess his feelings to you. He never listens” Cassian exclaimed and got up.

“Don’t worry y/n we will handle this.” Rhysand said and they both hurried off.

You were gaping at the door. Feelings? Confess? What? You were so confused that your brain felt like it would explode.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Cassian marched into the living room, grabbing Azriel by the collar of his shirt and dragging him outside. The shadowsinger didn’t fight his brother, he knew that Cassian could be a brute when he needed something. What he didn’t expect though was the angry look on Rhysand’s face when they reached the balcony. “What the fuck is going on?” Azriel shouted as he fixed his collar.

“You are a fucking idiot that’s what’s going on” Cassian growled. “Rhys?” Azriel asked ignoring the warlord.

“You’ve been ignoring y/n from the moment Elain stepped into our court. When was the last time you spent time with her?” Rhysand asked.

“I’ve been helping Elain adjust like you asked me to” Azriel exclaimed.

“Elain is fine for a while now.” Cassian said.

“She wants to hang out with me, she feels safe when I’m there” the shadowsinger explained.

“She wants to hang out with you because she likes you” Rhysand snorted. “That’s not the point of this conversation” Cassian growled. “Y/n is in her room crying her heart out right now because she is completely in love with you.”

“What?” Azriel’s eyes were wide as he turned his gaze to Rhysand. The High Lord nodded and Azriel spun around and sprinted off.

“Finally” Cassian screamed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your door burst open and Azriel stumbled inside, his eyes wide as he scanned your room.

“Angel please don’t cry” he breathed when he saw your face and approached you.

You couldn’t speak, you just stared at him as he knelt in front of you cupping your face.

“I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you angel. Rhys ordered me to help Elain adjust and then I kept spending time with her because I thought she needed me. I didn’t realize I was neglecting you, Cauldron I’m such an idiot.” He sighed. “Cassian said that you have feelings for me, is it true?”

You gulped and nodded.

“Even after all of this?” he asked.

“Yes” you whispered.

“Good. Because I’ve been in love with you from the moment I saw you for the first time. I feared losing you if I told you. I couldn’t believe that a sweet creature like you could love a monster like me.”

“Don’t say that! Please… you’re not a monster Az” you exclaimed.

“I kill faeries for a living”.

“You protect your court and family, and those faeries that you kill are not innocent. If someone can’t understand that then they are stupid.”

“My sweet angel….” Azriel stopped talking and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” you asked him. “Do you feel that too?” his hand went on his chest.

You felt it too, like a string unwrapping and then it snapped making both of you gasp and lean back.

“My sweet mate” Azriel whispered and smiled. You couldn’t believe it, your heart skipped way too many beats.

“My mate” you said, and tears filled your eyes.

“Do you forgive me?” Azriel asked.

“Yes. But you will stay away from her at least until I get used to the bond” “I will” he nodded “I love you my beautiful mate” “I love you Az” you smiled and he kissed you.

Requests are open but delayed!

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Text

Sore Loser.

Yan Alhaitham x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation and unbalanced power dynamics. Word count: 1.1k.

“In case you somehow missed it while storming in here, I want to inform you that my work hours are posted outside my office. You should note that I’m not currently on the clock and am under no obligation to hold an audience with you.”

You knew this would be no simple task. That’s why you’ve spent days — perhaps weeks, if you’re being totally honest — mentally preparing for this confrontation. Countless hours have been spent running mental simulations of this imperative moment. Still, despite your best efforts, you never achieved a breakthrough that’d navigate you through the obstacles lying ahead. Hence why you’ve been delaying this tête-à-tête no matter how much you recognize its needs to be resolved, and soon.

Some might call it procrastination, or delaying the inevitable, but not you. You think of it as self-preservation. What small amount you have left to cling to, anyway. Today, that thin, already fraying self-preservation was pulled taut enough to snap.

Which leads you here. The last place you want to be, paired with the very last person you want to see.

Your gut tells you the feeling is far from mutual. Alhaitham’s expression might be schooled, betraying nothing that floats around in that sinister mind of his, but you’re certain he’s deriving some satisfaction from your disheveled appearance. It could be the nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips or how he went to such lengths to keep his words slow, as if savoring your attention.

“Oh, trust me, I saw your little plaque.”

“It comes as a relief to know you’re literate.”

The creature seated before you cannot be a human being. There’s no way. You’ve dealt with some irritating men throughout your academic tenure — sometimes you wonder if the trait is an unspoken prerequisite to being accepted in higher education — yet none come close to this. The nonplussed air, that monotonous voice that is about as passionate as one reciting instructions from a manual. Oh, how it stokes a seething rage inside you that burns red hot.

You slam your hands on his desk hard enough to jostle the various writing instruments and memorabilia. This little outburst earns a raised eyebrow, yet nothing else. It’s clear that the floor is yours. You’ll need to make every second count.

“I know what you’ve been doing,” you whisper. Still nothing. No guilty body language that’d give himself away, his intense eye contact doesn’t even falter. Yours almost does. “Admittedly, I don’t know the specifics. I just think it’s interesting that ever since we broke things off, I’ve been receiving the cold shoulder from the academic world. An area you hold immense sway over.”

He straightens out a pen that went askew from your previous action. “A quick correction: you used the incorrect pronoun.”

“... Huh?”

“You said ‘ever since we broke things off’ when the correct phrasing would be ‘ever since I broke things off.’ That was entirely your decision. I had no part in it.”

It takes a few seconds for his words to register. What was once a steady yet contained flame ignites into a wildfire, seeking to smolder everything nearby into ashes. You can’t believe you saw something in him once. That you granted him a special residence in your heart, the door left unlocked so he wouldn’t need a key. In the wake of his forceful eviction, you’ve boarded up the windows and chained every potential entryway shut. There’s no fully surveying the damage left behind that you’ve been forced to clean up.

Piece by piece, shard by shard. You knew picking up the jagged glass would hurt — you never could’ve fathomed how much it’d make you bleed.

Unfortunately, he isn’t finished. While you mentally scramble to recollect your thoughts, he swoops in, talons sharp and ready to pierce your flesh.

“Additionally, I don’t see why we’re having this conversation if, as you said yourself, you have no evidence to back your claims. This alleged abuse of power would be better discussed with the matra. I’d be cooperative with any investigation they open. In fact, why don’t we go visit them together—”

“Stop it,” you cut him off, and surprisingly, he listens. “Is this— is this your way of tormenting me? Getting revenge? Does destroying what I’ve spent my entire life building satisfy your ego?”

Alhaitham places his elbows on the desk, rests his chin on steepled fingers, and leans forward. You know that look. You were once intimately familiar with it. This is the posture he adopts when he’s studying. Analyzing every variable presented to him and unearthing what remains hidden. There is no secrecy beneath his scrutinizing gaze. Where some see a stubborn wall, he views a vast ocean of information, waiting to be absorbed by those who know how to find it.

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” he notes. His voice is quieter. Almost tender, if such a word exists in his lexicon. You’re convinced it doesn’t. “Your foundation hides the worst of the eyebags, but I’m familiar with your normal complexion. The slightest change in pigmentation is enough to give you away.”

You hug your arms close to your chest. “Who do you think is to blame for that?”

“You wouldn’t like my answer.”

His hand reaches for your wrist. You tense, your breath catching in your throat, yet you allow him to unfurl your protective stance. His skin is familiar. Warm, calloused from years of dutifully scribbling onto documents. You feel his eyes boring at and through you. Cataloging your every reaction, retrieving past memories to best advance his goals.

He’s never quite as detached as you wished he would be.

There’s an underlying fondness when he speaks your name, gentle as a soft breeze, and almost as indiscernible.

“You must be at your wit’s end if you’re coming to me unprepared like this,” he sighs. The spell is broken, the hypnotist’s wristwatch frozen midair. You go to jerk your hand back, only for him to tighten his grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to effectively communicate his point.

“I’ve always been partial to you, so I suppose a little overtime wouldn’t hurt just this once. I believe I have a solution for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. We could discuss it, if you’d like. How about over dinner? It’ll be my treat.”

You did come here searching for a solution — though this is the last one you’d ever want.

“... How much of this did you plan?”

“I’m unsure what you mean,” his tongue might wax deceit, but his lips offer a glimmer of truth. They curl into a content smile. “I take it that’s a yes. Our usual spot, then?”

It’s occurs to you that you were worried about the wrong thing all along.

There was no point in fortifying your defenses after you ejected him from your heart; he never intended to undergo a forceful re-entry.

No, according to his design, you’d be the one undoing each lock to meet him outside.

#alhaitham x reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

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sunkissed-zegras · 9 months

Text

✮ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, quinn hughes

you can hear it in the silence, silence, you you can feel it on the way home, way home, you you can see it with the lights out, lights out you are in love, true love you are in love

one step, not much but it said enough you kiss on sidewalks you fight and you talk one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love

you two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round and he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

♡ ─ word count | 3.5k

♡ ─ summary | 3 times that quinn wanted to tell you he loved you, and the 1 time he finally did.

♡ ─ warnings | unedited (when are my works ever lol), mention of comparison between jack/quinn, exhaustion, slight angst??? but mostly tooth-rotting fluff, quinn overthinking, idk maybe there are more but nothing major LMAO

♡ ─ taglist | tbd!! check link in navigation if you are interested

♡ ─ ev's notes | this took WAY too long to write and lowkey not very proud of it, but i wanted to get it out before i start writing my fics for my 100 follower celly. i love quinny so much, he deserves the world and i hope this fic does him justice LMAO. ALSO THIS SONG MAKES ME FEEL SO FREAKING SICK, ITS SO GOOD. also now im noticing a theme on my page, only writing fics inspired by taylor songs, i need to switch it tf up. anyways, enjoy this slightly longer quinn fic & lmk your thoughts in the comments/reblogs. have a great day!

Quinn had never been the type to fawn over anyone ─ especially a girl.

In his 23 years of living, he can't remember a time where he was getting all excited and giddy over the mere thought of anyone. All he could ever remember was just focusing on family, hockey, friends.

Sure, there were flings ─ there were always flings but it would never end in anything more than that. It was just a fling. Sure, sometimes he would want something more but most of the times, the girls thought they were just getting themselves into a one-night stand. Two nights (never in a row) if they were lucky. But that was it.

Even if Quinn wanted a relationship (he doesn't, he would swear), he didn't have time for it. Family, hockey, friends ─ that was it. That's all he wanted.

Of course, that was all thrown out the window when he had met you.

Well, not initially. Quinn wasn't the 'love at first type' kinda guy and neither were you. Your first meeting was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a casual meeting at a friend's gathering, a few exchanged pleasantries, and nothing more.

Yet, something about you stuck with him. It was your sweet smile, maybe, or the way your eyes just looked kind and they would light up when you were asked about your job, or your family. Quinn couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but at some point, he found himself thinking about you when he should have been focused on his next game or practice.

His friends noticed the change in him. His younger brothers had noticed the small change and would tease him. "Hey, Q, what's up with you? You've been awfully distracted lately," Quinn could just imagine the stupid grin etched on Jack's face as he spoke those words.

Quinn, normally quick with a witty retort, found himself at a loss for words. He knew he was in new territory; he had never, ever in his life been overthinking about a girl. For the first time, hockey or family or friends weren't the only thing on his mind.

As days turned into weeks, Quinn's feelings grew stronger. He'd catch himself daydreaming about you during team meetings or staring at his phone, waiting for your texts back. He would go look at your instagram multiple times a day, waiting for a new post to go up just so he could see that pretty smile of yours but somehow, he was never satisfied with just that. For once in his whole life, he had wanted to actually get to know a girl based on one meeting and a couple of texts. It was maddening, this feeling of being drawn towards someone in a way he had never experienced before.

He also couldn't ask any of his buddies for advice because all he'd get was teasing so he had to keep it to himself, which somehow made this entire situation so much worse.

Then finally, there was that one night. You were both at another gathering, the same friends, the same laughter, but this time something shifted. You shared a small inside joke, a quick glance, and Quinn felt his heart race in a way that no slapshot or overtime goal had ever made it race before. He felt a surge of contradictory emotions during that one-second moment, a mix of anxiety and excitement that overwhelmed him. It was a sensation so intense that he wanted to vomit, yet strangely, it was different from the kind of feelings he had experienced before ─ it was not because of hockey, it was a girl. No, you weren't just a girl to him anymore, he realized. You were much more than that to him now.

As he drove home that night, he couldn't deny it anymore. He was falling for you, and it terrified him. Love was a complicated thing, one he had always sworn to avoid, but now he was caught in it's tight grasp all because of you.

The following days were a whirlwind of emotions. Quinn, who had always been the composed defenseman on the ice, found himself stumbling over words and second-guessing every move he made when it came to you. He couldn't concentrate during practice, and his teammates couldn't understand what had gotten into him and if he was being honest, neither did he.

But one thing was clear - Quinn Hughes was in love, and he didn't know how to handle it. He realized that his carefully constructed world of family, hockey, and friends had been upended by the presence of one person ─ you.

And so, this journey begins - three times Quinn wanted to tell you he loved you, and the one time he finally did.

──

ONE

──

After what seemed like the longest practice of his entire life, Quinn trudged back to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down every step. The weight of expectations from his teammates and fans pressed on his shoulders. Today wasn't his day; his passes were off, shots missed the mark, and he stumbled more than once during drills. Even coach had given him some constructive criticism, which usually wouldn't have bothered him, but today it felt like salt in the wound.

As he entered his home, he was ready to collapse onto the couch and shut out the world. As he collapsed on his soft couch, he groaned out in pain, the soreness in his muscles somehow hurt more than usual. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, until he heard the familiar buzzing of his phone in the pocket of his shorts. He cursed under his breath and pulled it out but all the anger seemed to slowly dissipate as he saw your name and contact picture spayed out on the screen.

Then he remembered. Tonight was supposed to be date night for the both of you. He cursed again before answering the phone, sitting upright on the couch.

"Hey," he answered breathlessly, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

"Hey, Quinn I'm outside─you okay?" You say through the phone but before he could answer, you continued. "Shit, sorry Quinn is this a bad time? I know you just had practice and probably tired, I should've texted but you know, I was so excited─"

"No, no, no. Come up, I'm fine I'm not tired." He was lying and you both knew it, but you sighed through the speaker. "Please, come up. I want you here."

"Okay... promise?"

"Promise, Y/N." He said your name so softly, it made your heart flutter and you couldn't help but smile.

"Okay. I'll be up in two secs," You said. "Bye."

The phone call ended and Quinn exhaled. He was tired, sure ─ but he was excited to see you. Even the sound of your voice made him relax so it wasn't even that much of hassle having a date night. If anything, he was sure, you'd make him feel better.

He quickly changed his clothes and he heard the doorbell ring. Quinn opened the door with a tired smile ─ it slowly spread as he saw your pretty smile. He felt his heart speed up as you slowly examined him, and that smile slowly dropped.

"Quinn..." You whispered, a small frown on your face. His disheveled appearance made you slightly sad.

You both made eye contact for a few seconds before you sighed and walked in, your arms wide open. You embraced him warmly, putting your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him softly.

As your arms enveloped him in a warm, comforting embrace, Quinn felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Your presence had a way of soothing his mind. The subtle scent of your floral shampoo, the softness of your warm touch, it all wrapped around him pleasantly.

He closed his eyes, letting himself bask in the tenderness of the moment. Your fingers traced gentle circles on his back, and it was as if you were silently reassuring him that it was okay to have bad days because you'd be there to catch him.

You pulled away, your eyes met again, and he saw genuine concern in your gaze. That alone was enough to make his heart skip multiple beats. Quinn couldn't quite put it into words, being around you was like like returning to the warm embrace of home.

He wanted to utter those three special words as he met your gaze, your kind eyes but the words slowly died on his tongue as you continued talking, taking his hand in yours.

"Let's go eat some ice cream and watch Top Gun." You smiled, knowingly.

He laughed softly and nodded, squeezing your hand. "Sounds like a plan."

──

TWO

──

The moon cast a soft glow through the white curtains as you and Quinn sat together in his dimly lit living room in comfortable silence. The day had been long, filled with its usual chaos and pressures, but now, the world was still. The only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional car passing by.

With a sigh, Quinn leaned back into the couch, his exhaustion evident in expression. You watched him closely, sensing the weight of the day on his shoulders. Your relationship had grown stronger over the span of a couple months and you had become his confidante, the one he turned to when he needed to escape from the demands of the team and fans.

Practice had been harder than usual and somehow, on top of all of that, the media had initiated a new trend of drawing comparisons between him and Jack, which made his mood worse.

You knew that; watching Quinn get slowly demotivated by the comments made by those nobodies, it hurt your heart. Breaking the silence, you softly asked, "Quinn, how are you really holding up?"

He looked at you, his gaze wavering at your soft eyes. There was something about the way you looked at him, a warmth and understanding that he had rarely found in anyone else. It was as if you could see right through him, past the tough exterior he often wore.

For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. He almost gave you the media-trained answer but then, he realized that with you. "Not sure, if I'm being honest."

"That's fine, Quinn." You answered softly, "you don't have to know. But what I do what you to know is that you're not Jack. You're not Luke, or Trevor, or anyone else. You're you and that's enough."

That simple answer made him halt all his thoughts. He felt his shoulders slowly drop, letting out a loud exhale. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

With empathy in your eyes, you couldn't help but feel the toll it was taking on him. The Quinn you saw now, weary and vulnerable, was a side he rarely showed to anyone.

Quinn's voice wavered as he spoke about the comments that everyone had been making on the media. "It's just... they don't understand, Y/N. They don't see the hours of practice, the sacrifices, the love I have for this game. All they see is Jack's brother, or one of the Hughes brothers."

You reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm, comfortingly. "Quinn, I see you. I see the hard work, the dedication, and the love you have for hockey. And I believe in you. You might be just Jack's brother or just another Hughes to them, but that doesn't matter to me. I see Quinn and you know what, that's enough. And if it isn't enough for them, then fuck them."

His eyes met yours, and there was a vulnerability in that eyes that spoke volumes. In that moment, Quinn realized that he was sharing not just his struggles, but his true self with you. It was a level of trust and intimacy he hadn't experienced with any girl before.

The silence that followed was a comforting one, filled with unspoken understanding. It was as if you were his anchor in the storm, a source of encouragement and warmth. Quinn couldn't help but think that he was lucky to have you by his side, someone who saw him for who he truly was, beyond just hockey player or another Hughes brother, beyond the expectations.

As he held your kind gaze, Quinn couldn't help but think that he wanted to say something more, something that would convey the true depth of his feelings. But for now, he settled for a heartfelt confession: "You're my best friend."

──

THREE

──

The frenetic buzz of the post-game celebrations following a thrilling overtime victory against the Toronto Maple Leafs, Quinn found himself into another arena, one of bright lights and microphones. His heart still raced from the intensity of the game, but now, he had to face the media. The sweat dripped from his forehead, his heart was still beating from the intensity of the adrenaline in his system.

The victory had been hard-fought, Quinn playing a pivotal role in securing it. The puck on his stick, he executed great moves, the slide of the ice beneath his skates, the thud of the puck hitting the net, the eruption of cheers all merging into a thrilling crescendo of sensations made his head buzz with excitement.

The reporters, with cameras flashing and microphones thrust forward, surrounded him like a hungry vultures. They fired questions, one after another, probing for insights into the game-changing play that had secured the win for the Vancouver Canucks.

"Quinn, that last-minute save in overtime was incredible! Can you walk us through what was going on in your mind?"

"Quinn, there's been a lot of buzz with your brother, Jack Hughes. How does it feel to outshine him tonight?"

"You've been compared to some of the greats tonight. How do you handle the pressure of those comparisons?"

"Quinn, your family's here tonight, right? How does their support affect your game?"

"Quinn, fans are calling this one of the best games of your career. Do you think this win is the turning point for the Canucks this season?"

The questions all blurred in his head, the bright lights straining his eyes. Quinn, used to these post-game interviews, felt a distinct unease tonight even after such a big win. The questions were sharp and the scrutiny was intense. In the midst of this media frenzy, he sought solace in the one thing that always brought him strength: you.

He remembers seeing you in the stands before the game and his mind kept replaying those few seconds where you shared a big grin as you both made eye contact.

Amidst the crowd of reporters, he spotted you, your presence radiating pride and warmth. Your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the arena. You gave him a big thumbs up with a big grin, knowing how anxiety inducing those post-game interviews could be. Quinn longed to speak the words that danced at the tip of his tongue but he knew he had to navigate this sea of questions first.

──

This week had to be the longest of Quinn's life. The 3 hour, 5 am pre-season practices had been so tiring, he felt the life get sucked out of him after every exhausting practice. There was one thing he had been looking forward to and that was your date night. Even though he knew that he would have do this week over again practically the next week, he was okay with it knowing that he would be able to spend some time with you over the weekends.

As Friday night finally arrived, Quinn couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement. The thought of spending time with you, of being himself without the pressures of anyone else, filled him with a sense of comfort.

He had suggested a new restaurant downtown, a place neither of you had been before. As you both entered the restaurant, the soft piano ambience and the chatter created the perfect atmosphere. Quinn couldn't help but steal a few glances at you, admiring your beauty and the easy way you fit into his world.

You had worn your hair back in a low bun, showing off your sweet collarbone, a pretty necklace that Quinn had bought for you on a trip hanging off it. It was a silver color and the jewel a beautiful deep blue color that brought out your angelic eyes. Quinn couldn't help but stare and you felt your face burn with heat as you caught his loving gaze.

"What, is there something on my face?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no. You just look beautiful, like always. I like that necklace, wonder who bought it for you."

You giggled in response, feeling slightly giddy. You couldn't even lie, Quinn had you in a trance. You were head over heels. "Yeah, I wonder who."

The rest of the night was spent like this ─ sweet and teasing, it all felt right. Everything just felt right, it was if the last week hadn't happened. Every problem just slowly faded every time either of you spent time together, no matter how big or small it was.

After dinner, you decided to take a walk out in town. The summer air was unusually cool, the lights of the city perfectly setting the atmosphere for the night.

Quinn held your hand, your softer and smaller hand fitting his like a glove. You both walked through the town, talking and laughing like you two were the only people in the world.

As you both passed a bar, your ears filled with the familiar tune of your favorite song. You immediately stopped and looked at Quinn knowingly. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe it's playing!"

Quinn let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "Wanna go in?"

You ignored his question and started lip syncing the lyrics to him, playfully. He started laughing even louder, letting his head fall back. You had started laughing, too ─ then, you took his hand in yours and started dancing.

If it this was anyone else, Quinn would've been slightly embarrassed but as he saw your eyes sparkling and your wide small, he truly couldn't feel anything but love. He had a smile on his face as he grabbed you and pulled you closer, dancing happily with you.

As the song ended, another started playing. 'You are in love' by Taylor Swift had started playing and Quinn almost let out a laugh at the coincidence. You looked back at him, a deep blush gracing on your face. He took your hand again and pulled you closer, and you put you put arms around his broad shoulders.

You both looked into each other's eyes and he took account of how beautiful you looked in this moment ─ you always looked beautiful, no matter when or where or to who, it was just a fact. But you looked more than just physically beautiful, everything about you was perfect, your flaws, your smile, just everything.

And that was when Quinn really knew, in his bones that you were the one for him.

"What?" You whispered, as you saw Quinn's expression changed slowly. He loved that too ─ how empathetic you were, how in sync you both were. You always knew what he was feeling.

You asked, but you knew what the answer was.

"I think ─ no..." His words died on his tongue as your expression changed too. "I know it. I love you."

It didn't feel like a big confession. It didn't feel how everyone described it to be, it just felt like a normal statement. You both had thought it before, multiple times ─ so saying it out loud wasn't a big confession to either of you.

He loved that, he was so used to everything being so big and grand, he wanted it simple. He loved that and he loved you.

You could see it in his eyes, too. His eyes were softened as he gazed at you, like he always looked at you. But this time, you acknowledged it more. He loved you. Quinn loved you. As you gazed into his brown eyes, your heart swelled with a deep sense of connection. You had known, just like he did, that this feeling existed between you. It wasn't born out of big gestures or dramatic confessions; instead, it had quietly grown, nourished by the everyday moments you shared.

As the song ended softly, you let out a breath you didn't know you were even holding. "Yeah. I know I love you, too."

His smile got impossibly bigger and then, he leaned in and gave you the biggest of kisses ─ the dramatic ones, too. He had your face in his hand, the other one holding on your waist and you pulled him closer with your hands.

You felt his mouth smirk as you both sloppily made out. You laughed into the kiss but neither of you pulled away. Neither of you liked PDA but this time, it felt right.

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thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl oneshot #hockey #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x oc #vancouver canucks #nhl angst #nhl fanfiction #hughes brothers #hughes family #jack hughes blurb

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emilysslvt · 6 months

Note

omg your emily and hotch’s daughter fic 🤭🥵🥵 would you ever consider a part 2??

Our secret

i'm glad you asked, i had no other story ideas at the moment! i wanted to add some drama, so ignore me.. also, happy birthday to me:) but it's not til the 15th, i just wanted to post earlier

warnings: arguing, smut, edging (sorta)

After the night at the bar, you had been extremely busy with work. You haven't had the time for your date with Emily, but she'd still always tease you. Even if it was at work, you had found ways to sneak around without being caught. Well, hopefully.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" Your thoughts immediately left your head as you looked up to see Derek in front of you.

You chuckled, shaking your head. Every thought you had was about Emily, and nobody knew about what you two had done in the bar. "Nothing. I'm just tired."

A smirk was plastered on his face, he knew you better than that. But he wouldn't pry you for answers. Thankfully, he had left you alone and he went back to his desk. However, the girl you admired had sat across from you at her desk.

Her eyes met yours, the sparkle in her eye always made you smile, make you feel like the happiest person in the world. You can tell so much emotion from someone's eyes.

"Y/n, my office please." Your father's voice made your head turn, breaking eye contact with Emily. Your coworkers made an 'ooo' sound, acting like children. Your eyes rolled, but you got up making your way to your fathers office.

You shut the door and sat down across from him. His eyes were looking at his paperwork, and he didn't look up. That always scared you, he was intimidating.

A couple minutes later, he finally looked up at you. "I need you to tell me about what you're doing with Emily." His voice was stern and full of anger. He couldn't possibly know.. could he?

"I'm sorry..?"

He never broke eye contact, which intimidated you more. "Y/n, tell me now."

"Dad, I don't know what you're talking about. She's my coworker, what else do you want me to say?" You did your best to stay calm, not looking guilty.

He scoffed, "I gave you a chance to tell me the truth." You watched him as he grabbed his phone, pulling up a picture of you and Emily. Her hand was around your waist, as you two kissed. You thought you were alone in that hallway, but it appears not. You were in disbelief, you didn't know what to say or do.

"I forbid you to see her."

"What?! That's not fair! You can't do that, I'm an adult and I can see whoever I want whenever I want." You protested, even though you'd lose against your father.

His hands slammed against the desk as he stood up, and you jumped. "Emily is my best friend, and on top of that my coworker! I will not allow for this to continue, and if it does I will place both of you on suspension or you'll be fired." His voice raised, and you wanted to cry. He never spoke this way to you, and you respected him but you couldn't at this moment.

You couldn't stop seeing her, she made you so happy. She was your favorite person, you couldn't. "Dad, I have so much respect for you, but I can't stop seeing her."

He scoffed, "it wasn't a choice, y/n. Stop seeing her. Now." His voice was filled with so much anger, you knew this was a losing game for you.

You stood up, "this isn't fair! Why are you doing this to me? Please don't make me."

"My decision is final."

You clenched your jaw, opening up the door. Your dad was already looking at his paperwork. You slammed the door as you left, making your way out of the bau. You kept your eyes forward, not looking at your wandering coworkers eyes.

You locked yourself into your car, and you started to breakdown. Your father has never acted like this before, he was a little uptight but he wasn't ever like this.

You suddenly jumped as a knock came from your window, you looked up, seeing Emily. Her face was filled with concern, and you unlocked the door. She made her way around the car, and into the passenger side.

Her hands cupped your cheeks, "what's wrong, my love? Why wre you crying?" You couldn't tell her, you didn't want to. You knew she would listen to your father, and take his side. You kept your eyes on the center counsel, as your tears fell down your cheeks.

"Baby, talk to me. I don't like seeing you like this, and I want to make you feel better." Her voice was soft and filled with concern.

You wiped your tears, finally looking up at her. "You can't. My dad said that.." you paused, trying to read her. She was patient, and she didn't push you for an answer.

"He said I can't see you anymore." Emily shifted in her seat, and she moved her hands. You thought this was it, and she was going to agree with him.

The car was silent, she didn't speak or look at you. You were worried, you have had a crush on her for ages. You couldn't lose her as soon as you got her.

Her voice broke your thoughts, "do you want to go on that date tonight?" Her eyes met yours, and you immediately smiled from relief.

Hours later, and Emily was at your front door. She eyed your body, admiring how beautiful you looked. "You look.. astonishing." You smiled, wrapping your arms around her neck, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

Her hands met your waist, rubbing your side. The kiss was slow at first, until Emily ran her tongue along your lip, pushing it into your mouth. As you pulled back for air, she smirked. "Good thing you pulled back, or else that dress would be off of you before we got into the restaurant."

You smiled, and she held her arm out for you. You linked your arms, making your way to her car.

You were at the restaurant, across from your lover. As the date went on, her face lit up. You loved her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes lit up every time you talked about something you loved.

You learned many things about Emily, you learned what her favorite hobby is, her favorite food, favorite alcoholic beverage, snack, what she does in her free time. You loved learning everything about her, you were happy she was opening up to you and still seeing you after everything you've been through.

After your perfect date night, you were in your driveway. You sat silently, looking at Emily. She smiled, leaning in. Her lips were inches apart from yours, she smirked, looking down at your lips.

"You know.. I've wanted to take that dress off of you all night." Her words made you shiver, the tone in her voice was filled with lust and desire.

You smiled, pulling back. "Then take it off." You quickly got out of the car, running into your house. Emily smiled, chasing after you. You went to shut the door in her face, but she beat you to it. Emily picked you up with one hand, as she slammed the door shut.

She pressed you against the door, as your legs wrapped around her. You laughed as her lips met yours, her hands running down your body. Her fingers danced along your skin, and you shivered.

Her hands slipped under your shirt, pulling it off of you. As your kiss broke, she began kissing your neck, sucking on your soft skin.

Her lips kept contact with your neck as she carried you to your bedroom, softly throwing you onto the bed. You held yourself up by your elbows, and Emily pulled her shirt off before climbing on top of you.

You smirked, grabbing the loop of her jeans to pull her up to you. She bit her lip, "impatient, are we?" She unclipped your bra as she watched you, your eyes never leaving hers.

Her eyes stayed on you as she leaned down, slowly swirling her tongue around your nipple. You laid against the bed, wrapping your arms around her waist. She smirked, biting your nipple as you tangled your hands in her hair. Her knee slightly pushed against where you needed her most, making you move your hips to feel her more.

Emily moved onto your other nipple, doing the same as before and she slowly slid her hand down your body, into your pants. You slightly spread your legs, giving her more access. She slowly circled your clothed clit, making you softly moan.

Her lips met your neck once again, and her hand stopped moving. She began unbuttoning your pants as she sucked a mark into your neck. "I wonder what Hotch will think of that." Emily smirked, pulling your pants off.

As she slid off your underwear, she kept her eyes on you. She sat between your legs, her hands gripping your thighs tightly.

As she kissed your inner thighs, you grew impatient. You needed her. "Emily, please.." you begged. Her smirk grew, as she leaned closer to your clit;

"What do you need? Hm?"

"I need you to fuck me. Please."

She smiled, "good girl." Emily ran her tongue along your clit, keeping her eyes on you. You kept your hands tangled in her hair, slightly pulling it. Emily was going at a slow speed, and it was killing you. You needed more of her.

You began moving your hips, but Emily quickly held them down. "Be patient. Or else I'll go slower." You nodded, and she smiled. Going back to circling your clit with her tongue, she went a bit faster than before, but still painfully slow.

As her speed increased, your moans got louder. She sucked and bit your clit, as she slid one of her fingers inside of you, moving it slowly. Her name slipped from your mouth multiple times, the way she made you feel was absolutely astonishing. You pulled Emily's hair tighter as she slid another one of her fingers inside of you, her pace increasing. You felt a knot in your lower stomach, and you felt your orgasm approaching.

Emily kept her speed, but every time she knew you were getting close she would slow down. She was edging you, making sure you hadn't cum yet. She replaced her tongue with her thumb, "if you want to cum, darling.. you better start begging." She whispered in your ear.

You could barely form any words, you were thoughtless. "Please, Emily. I need to cum, please.." You whispered, feeling your orgasm approach every time she sped up her movements. Emily's mouth was attached to your nipple, and she kept her current pace.

You figured she didn't think your begging was good enough, since she kept teasing you. "Please, mommy.." you whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed that she wouldn't like that. But your embarrassment quickly faded once Emily sped her movements up once again. Emily's name fell from your mouth as you came against her fingers. She let you ride out your high before removing her fingers, and putting them into your mouth. You sucked on her fingers, licking them clean.

"Such a good girl you are." Emily removed her fingers from your mouth, and she quickly got up, making her way to your bathroom. A second later she came back with a towel, cleaning your legs up. She threw the towel on the floor, and she laid beside you, pulling your body onto her chest.

Closing your eyes, you listened to her heartbeat. You felt so much comfort laying in her arms, like a teddy bear you'd cuddle as a child. Emily ran her fingers along your back, making you fall asleep quickly.

#criminal minds #paget brewster #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x reader #emily x reader #fan fiction #smut #lgbtq

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farfromstrange · 3 months

Text

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness.

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally.

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by.

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth.

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him.

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you.

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave.

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you.

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again.

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you.

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive.

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to.

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure.

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you.

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you.

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands.

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts.

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you.

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you.

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop.

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper.

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth.

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you.

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart.

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again.

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all.

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start?

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say.

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him.

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.”

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same.

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back.

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #frank castle #the punisher #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #frank castle x you #daredevil #charlie cox #from the vault #bonus fic #inspired by: now that we don't talk

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