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#I really hope now with things behind me I can focus and finish and then go full throttle on TSDH (novel acronym is all you get rn)
iamtired10 · 2 days
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newjeans headcanons to when ur sick/unwell 🫶🫶 i really adore ur writing so much! but dont feel pressured to write this suggestion :)) i reqlly hope your having a great day and i hope for many great ones to come.
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under the weather
— ☘︎ fluffy headcanons
pairing: newjeans members x female reader
synopsis: how each newjeans member would react when you're sick and feeling unwell.
warning: just too much cuteness, really! :((
a/n: hey guys, im finishing up other requests tomorrow. this was the first request saurr i worked on it first. ive got some drafts im not happy with (so re-writing them) if u have any requests let me know! but bear with me—i have exams!
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— kim minji
minji is the type to immediately notice when you’re not feeling well.
she’ll place her hand on your forehead, gently tucking your hair behind your ear as her brows furrow with concern.
“why didn’t you tell me earlier, baby? you’re burning up.”
minji would insist on taking care of you the entire day.
she’ll make you soup, even if she’s not the best cook, just because it’s something warm for you.
you’d hear her asking google how to make the perfect tea for sore throats or colds.
she’s naturally nurturing, always nearby with a soft blanket, making sure you're warm but not too hot, gently adjusting your pillow.
she’d also have her calm, patient smile on, trying to reassure you, even though you can tell she’s a little worried.
she’ll hum quietly while cuddling you, making sure you get the rest you need, checking in with soft whispers like, “does this feel better, love?” or “i’m right here if you need anything.”
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— pham hanni
hanni will panic for like, two seconds, and then immediately jump into action.
she’ll text you, “don’t move!! i’m coming over!!” and show up at your door with way too many things – snacks, cough drops, drinks, and possibly some of the cutest plushies you’ve ever seen.
she’s the type to watch funny movies with you because laughter is the best medicine, right?
hanni’s focus would be on keeping you entertained and distracted from the fact that you’re feeling awful.
she’d wrap herself up in a blanket like a burrito and say, “look, if you’re sick, then i’m sick too. we suffer together.”
expect her to crack jokes, make goofy faces, and maybe do a little silly dance, anything to make you smile through the discomfort.
she’ll hold your hand whenever you’re not feeling great, squeezing it tight and assuring you that you’ll get better soon.
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— danielle marsh
danielle will go above and beyond to make sure you're comfortable and smiling.
she’s got that sweet, caring energy that feels like sunshine, so being around her would feel so comforting.
she’d take one look at you and go, “oh no, my poor baby!”
before immediately wrapping you up in the coziest hug.
danielle would come over with a bag full of wellness goodies—think vitamins, fresh fruit, and some herbal teas that her mom probably recommended.
but, she wouldn’t stop there.
danielle would sit beside you, making sure you have water nearby and taking your temperature like a little nurse.
she’d read to you, tell you stories, and probably come up with silly scenarios to make you giggle.
“i know you’re sick right now, but you know what? i’m here to make sure you get better in the cutest way possible!”
she’d offer a shoulder massage or gently rub your back as you rest.
just being with her would make you feel instantly at ease, like you’re already healing just from her presence.
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— kang haerin
haerin might not be the most vocal, but she shows her love through actions, and her quiet support would be so soothing when you’re unwell.
she’d notice you feeling off right away and probably wouldn’t say much, but she’d hover around, checking up on you constantly.
she’s the type to sit beside you and just stay close, not overwhelming you with questions but making sure you know she’s there.
she’ll bring you a cool washcloth for your forehead or your favorite drink without even asking, like she already knows what you need before you do.
if you’re too tired to talk, haerin would just hold your hand, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, comforting strokes.
there’s something about her presence that feels calming, like she’s a grounding force when everything else feels off.
haerin would definitely put on some calming music, or better yet, hum softly as she brushes your hair away from your face.
she won’t leave your side, and even though she’s not saying much, you can feel how much she cares.
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—lee hyein
hyein would be the most eager to take care of you.
she’ll probably rush to the store to get all kinds of things for you—medicine, soup, snacks, and maybe even some cute little gifts to cheer you up.
she’s very hands-on and would want to help you feel better immediately.
“don’t worry, i got this! you just lay there and look cute.” hyein would say, flashing that confident grin of hers.
she’s the type to bundle you up in blankets, but she’s also a little bit of a tease, so she’ll jokingly smother you in the covers and go, “stay wrapped up like a burrito so you can sweat out the sickness!”
you’ll catch her running around, trying to fix everything at once, even if it’s just making sure the pillows are fluffed or you have the perfect temperature drink by your side.
but the moment you look up at her with those puppy-dog eyes because you’re tired or feeling extra unwell, she’ll soften instantly, sitting by your side and stroking your cheek.
“i got you, babe. just rest, i’ll be here the whole time.”
she’ll make it a point to stick by you, even if it means staying up until she’s sure you’re sleeping peacefully.
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a/n: good night 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔..
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rinnysega · 2 years
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Screaming into the void because I wish I could just finish Precipice quickly so I can put my full focus on my novel, but my novel keeps pulling me away to work on it when I should be finishing this fanfic instead AUGH
WAIT YOUR TURN! LET BRUNO HAVE HIS HAPPY ENDING WITH HIS FAMILIA FIRST! 
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obsessed-with-stardew · 5 months
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After His Show
After seeing the band play a gig in the city, you ride back to town on Seb’s motorcycle. But, you get a little distracted along the way…
Sebastian xF!Reader, Sebastian xAFAB!Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names, semi-public sex, oral male receiving
AN: This fic can be read as a follow up to Under His Desk or as a stand alone. I have been on the motorcycle thirst trap side of the internet lately and I thought that perfectly aligned with a fic idea. I have never ridden a motorcycle so if my descriptions are inaccurate, I’m sorry :)
Wc: 4400
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It was another fall day and you had just finished a harvest which meant one thing - it was time to pop into Pierre’s for some more seeds. You head down the road that leads into town trying to decide if you want to focus on artichokes or if you have enough time left in the season to plant some fairy roses. You’re so lost doing the mental calculations that you would’ve run into Sam if he hadn’t grabbed you by the arms.
“Look where you’re going, farmer! You could’ve made a dent in me,” he jokes, squeezing your biceps. “No, but for real you’re strong right?” 
“Uh yeah, I guess I am?” you shrug.
“Well, we could use an extra roadie for the Goblin Destroyer show tomorrow night if you’re free,” he says. “I know Seb would be really happy if you were there.” Sam winks at you.
You flush, forgetting that Sam knows you and Seb have been fooling around since he almost walked in on the two of you. If you’d only grabbed your bra before hiding under Seb’s desk this embarrassment could’ve been avoided.
“Yeah, sure I don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” you say. “It would be cool to see y’all at a real gig and not just rehearsals.”
“Sweet! Okay, we’re meeting at the bus stop at 4, see you there,” Sam calls as he heads for home.
The next day you finish your chores around the farm as quickly as you can. You may be a roadie tonight, but you’re a groupie at heart and you want to look the part. When you’re satisfied that you look somewhere between halfway decent and slightly hot, you head for the bus stop. 
As you approach, you see Seb leaving. You try to catch his eye but it’s clear his head is elsewhere. When you get to the bus stop, Abigail whistles at you.
“Damn girl, you clean up nice,” she exclaims. You hadn’t really had a chance to dress up for a night out since you moved to Pelican Town a few months ago.
“Thanks,” you laugh. “You look great too, very punk rock.”
“Dude I wear this outfit literally all the time, but thanks,” she laughs.
You help load the rest of the equipment, looking around every now and then hoping to see Seb. By the time all of the gear is loaded, Sebastian still hasn’t appeared. You see Sam lingering by the doors to the bus.
“Hey Sam, is Seb… I mean I saw him heading to town when I got here and we’re about to leave,” you trail off.
“Oh yeah, he had to help his mom with something, he said he’ll meet us there,” Sam replies.
Disappointed, you board the bus behind Sam.
The ride to the venue goes by faster than you expected, and you spend the whole time laughing and joking with Sam and Abigail. Upon arrival you jump into your role as a roadie, unloading gear off the bus with the same focus you use to plant or harvest crops. When everything is set up, you head outside for a smoke break. You’ve always smoked off and on, but since hanging around Seb the habit has admittedly gotten a bit worse.
Searching your pockets for a lighter, you come up empty. You wish Seb was there, he always has one on him. As if in answer to your prayers you hear a motorcycle nearing. Looking up, you see Seb riding towards you. You had to focus to keep your mouth from falling open. Sure you’d seen him working on the bike and that was objectively hot, but seeing him ride up on it was another thing entirely. You weren’t sure if it was the confidence he rode with, but even with his face obscured by the helmet he looked sexy.
Seb pulled the bike up right next to you. He was surprised he parked straight because he had been looking only at you since he entered the lot. Seb knew you were going to be there tonight, but damn he didn’t know you were going to look this good all dressed up in black. He knows that it’s the traditional color crew wears, but he hopes you considered his reaction as you picked out your outfit - the thought makes him blush. Those tight black jeans seem to hug every curve and your top is cut just low enough to get his heart racing. 
Sebastian pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his dark hair. 
“Need a light?” he asks, nodding toward the unlit cig in between your fingers.
“Yeah, your timing is perfect,” you say, as Seb dismounts the motorcycle and pulls a lighter from his pocket. 
You lean forward, breathing in as he lights the tip of your cigarette. 
“Sounds like you were missing me,” he teases, plucking the cig from your fingers to take a drag.
“Missing you or just your lighter, who’s to say,” you retort.
Seb offers the cig back to you, instead of taking it, you lean forward making eye contact as you take a drag while it’s still between his fingers, lips brushing his digits. Seb’s cock twitches at your brazen flirtation and he huffs out a laugh. Damn, you really know how to get him going.
Seb grabs your hand and pulls it up to his mouth. He kisses the inside of your wrist, causing you to draw in a ragged breath.
“Well I missed you, y/n…” he whispers against your wrist. 
You can’t think beyond his admission and his breath dancing across your sensitive skin. It makes your heart race and you’re certain he can feel your pulse quicken under his soft touch.
“Are you sure you haven’t missed me too?” he teases, pulling your body flush with his. Seb’s other hand captures your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his - the cherry of your cig reflected in his blown-out pupils. 
“You can tell me, baby,” he coos. “I know how to keep a secret.”
The back door to the venue opens with a bang.
“Yo Seb, you out here?” Sam’s voice calls. “It’s time for the final soundcheck!”
“Yeah man, I’ll be there in a minute,” Seb shouts back, not taking his eyes from yours.
Without warning, he pushes you back against the wall of the building, lips locking with yours, cigarette dropped forgotten on the pavement.
His hand travels to your waistband, fingers skillfully popping the button of your jeans.
“Seb what are you doing??” you hiss. “Someone will see us!”
“Not if I’m quick,” he promises with a wink.
Undoing your zipper, his long fingers find their way to your underwear. A moan escapes your lips as he brushes over the wet cloth barely covering your pussy. Seb is quick to capture the sound with his mouth.
When you quiet he whispers in your ear, “Can’t believe how wet you are for me already sweetheart.”
Gently he runs a finger through your folds under the fabric. You gasp, struggling to remain silent. Seb plunges the finger deep into your hole, covering your mouth with his other hand to keep you from crying out. 
He pumps his finger into you a few times, just enough to make you ready to beg for more when he removes his digit from you, bringing it to his lips. Watching Seb suck your juice from his finger causes your walls to clench around nothing - you can’t get over how hot and bothered this man makes you.
“Don’t worry baby, I just wanted a taste. Let’s call it a good luck charm,” Seb chuckles. “C’mon, they’ll be wondering where we are.”
As Sebastian heads onstage for sound check you grab a drink from the bar and join the waiting crowd. You’re not in the first row but you don’t mind. Positioning yourself in front of the keyboard, you look around, shocked by the number of unfamiliar faces at the show. The second the lights go down and the band takes the stage, there’s a palpable shift in the energy. Sure you’d been to rehearsals and a couple of local shows, but seeing the guys and Abby on a stage in the city, they look like they belong up there.
Seb had played it cool in front of you, but as he walks onto the stage he can feel his hands begin to shake. Shit, this is the biggest crowd they’ve ever had. He can NOT fuck it up now. Positioning himself behind his keyboards, Seb blinks through the spotlights to the sea of faces. Well maybe not a sea, but it’s a decent-sized lake. As soon as his eyes adjust, he sees you. He’d recognize your smile and bright eyes anywhere. He’s always nervous for shows, but locking eyes with you, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You mouth “you got this” and blow him a kiss. God you’re so cute, he thinks, shaking his head to himself as his heart swells.
Abby starts the count-off with her drumsticks and muscle memory kicks in. Seb loses himself in the music as he always does. Forgetting he’s on a stage in front of a crowd of strangers, his fingers know just where to go. As the first set ends Seb slowly comes out of his daze, guided by Sam’s voice distantly addressing the crowd.
“We are Goblin Destroyers, thanks for coming out tonight!” Sam shouts as the crowd cheers. He introduces the band, and as you hear him say “...and on the keys we have Sebastian!” a huge cheer erupts from the audience. It’s a little too big of a cheer for your liking, and you can see Seb trying to hide his flushed face behind his dark fringe. You feel a sudden surge of jealousy and mentally kick yourself for not having marked Seb’s neck with your lips and teeth before the show. You’ll have to remember that next time. 
The music starts back up and you surrender yourself to the sound. The bass thrums in your chest and your eyes are glued to Sebastian. You love watching him play. It’s as if all his worries melt away leaving just Seb and the music. It’s so hot to see him this way, totally raw - the mask he usually keeps up between himself and the world is replaced by a look of utter calm.
The only other time you’ve seen him like that is when he’s inside of you. Watching his fingers expertly fly across the keys sends a shiver down your spine as you remember where they were just an hour before. You try to keep your lust at bay and enjoy the show, but the only music you want to hear now are the sweet groans from Seb’s lips as he fucks you.
After a few more songs, the show is over and people begin filtering out of the venue. You head backstage to help pack up when a hand grabs your arm and pulls you into a dark corner. Just as you open your mouth to shout, Seb slots his lips between yours for a devastating kiss, full of tongue and teeth and the adrenaline high he still has from the gig. You pull back for breath and punch him in the arm. 
“Ow, what was that for?” he asks rubbing where you struck him.
“For making me think I was getting kidnapped,” you laugh, putting your hands around his neck. Leaning up, you whisper into his ear, “You looked really hot up there,” and you take his lobe between your teeth. Seb lets out a soft groan and cups your ass in his hands. 
“Ahem,” Abigail clears her throat. 
The two of you freeze, debating whether it’s too late to pretend you were doing something, anything more innocent than what she’s seen.
“Oh my god, chill out you two,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re fucking, Sam called me as soon as he left your little sex pad.”
You burst out laughing and Seb says, “Ew, Abs don’t call my room a ‘sex pad’.”
“Whatever, will y’all just help pack up the gear?”
You turn to leave, but Seb pulls you in for another quick kiss.
“If everyone knows, I might as well show you off,” he says with a wink before walking away.
Packing up is quick work and before you know it everyone is piling into the bus.
“You want the same spot?” Abigail asks. 
“Oh um actually Seb said he’d give me a ride back….” you say. 
“Ah, I get it. You two drive safe and use protection,” She says, closing the last door on the equipment storage.
You flush and stammer, “wha- we won’t uh-”
“Oh my god wear a helmet, dumbass,” Abigail laughs, punching you lightly in the arm as she heads for the bus.
You make a final sweep of the venue to make sure nothing is left behind. Emerging into the parking lot you see Sebastian, leaning against his bike. The lone streetlight above like another spotlight, and he’s putting on a show just for you. Seb’s lips curve into a soft smile as takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls up around him, obscuring all of his features except his gleaming eyes that track you as you approach. All his.
Finally alone, the desire that has built up over the course of the night threatens to overtake you right here in the parking lot. You reach for him as Seb puts an arm around your waist pulling you close. He leans down, kissing up your neck to your ear.
“Did you get all dressed up in black just for me?” he whispers, nipping at the sensitive shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath. 
“All for you Sebby,” you sigh.
His cock hardens from both the nickname and your admission. He pulls your body flush with his. You gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against you. 
“Let's get you home sweetheart, there’s so much I want to do to you,” Sebastian growls into your ear.
Taking one last drag from his cig, he drops it to the pavement putting it out with a twist of his foot. Seb reaches behind his back and produces two helmets. He hands you the smaller one.
“I thought you only had the one helmet,” you tease. 
“Gotta keep my girl safe,” he says with a wink. 
The two of you put on the helmets, and you watch as Seb straddles the bike. Ugh, he looks so hot, something about the helmet covering his features, only his neck exposed, really gets you turned on. He starts the bike and revs the engine. Seb reaches out a hand to you and you take it, straddling the bike behind him, you wrap your arms around his stomach. He reaches back, running his hand down your thigh, giving you a quick squeeze. And then you’re off.
God, you feel so good nestled behind him. Your arms hold him in a tight hug as your thighs squeeze him. Fuck he loves your legs and with your tits pressing into his back, he’s in heaven. Seb has always loved taking his bike out, he feels so free flying down the quiet highway under the stars.
His heart swells at the trust you place in him, to keep you safe as the two of you speed through the empty streets. He hopes you’re having a good time too when he feels you lean back and let out a whoop into the night air. Seb laughs and does the same. When he’s with you, it’s like gravity’s endless weight is lifted and he can dream again. You must sense this because you squeeze him tighter for a moment. 
Something no one ever told you about riding a motorcycle is that it’s basically one giant vibrating seat. And with your arms around the man you’re planning to fuck the second this ride is over, the sensation is making you extremely horny. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs and you try to adjust your position to get the vibration right where you want it. Seb must think you’re uncomfortable because the moment you shift his hand reaches back to squeeze your thigh again.
His worry for you makes you determined to let him know just how good you feel. You start to move one hand, running it down his stomach. Seb returns his hand to the handlebar, thinking your touch is to reassure him, but you aren’t done. Your fingers drift downward, searching and finding. His cock stiffens and his hands clench the handles. You give him a rough squeeze through his jeans and he lets out a groan barely audible through the sound of the wind. You tug on his length as you rock your hips on the seat.
Closing your eyes you begin a slow pace of jacking him off over his jeans and grinding your pussy into the vibrations. You’re so lost in seeking your pleasure that you don’t notice Seb has turned off the highway until the motor cuts off. You whine at the lack of vibration, not fully comprehending what’s happening until Seb pulls you off the bike. His helmet is still on but his visor is open. You can see the desire flashing in his eyes. 
“My needy girl, couldn’t wait to finish the ride before needing my cock,” he growls. 
“I- I didn’t mean to…” you whimper as Seb pulls off his helmet, and runs his hand through his hair. 
“What am I gonna do with you,” he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.
Setting down the helmet, Seb circles the bike. You take off your helmet, shaking out your hair. He drinks in the sight of you, the moonlight shining off your hair, the desperate look in your eyes, the way your black clothes cling to you and how he wants to peel them off. He pauses in front of you, hand palming his now aching erection. Your gaze is glued to that hand, taunting you.
Seb undoes his belt buckle, pops the button on his jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. Watching you squirm with every small movement, he could do this for hours, basking in your hungry gaze knowing that you want him just as much as he wants you. But he won’t keep you waiting. He eases his cock out, hissing as the cool night air trails over his hot length. 
“On your knees baby.” 
You oblige instantly, he chuckles at your obedience. 
“That’s a good girl,” he growls. 
He shudders as you grab him, pressing a light kiss to his tip before you flick your tongue along the slit dripping with precum. And when your warm, wet mouth wraps around his length he has to stop himself from thrusting into the back of your throat. You take your time, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your hand until he can’t take it anymore.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and rocks his hips forward. Forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. The feeling of your tongue on the underside and the light scrape of your teeth on top force out a groan from deep within his chest. His eyes lock on yours, so full of tears just waiting to spill out. He thrusts a few more times, relishing in the feeling of his balls hitting your chin. When your throat squeezes him as you choke on his cock, he swears if he died right now at least he’d die happy.
And as much as he craves to chase his own pleasure and pump his seed into your waiting mouth, he has to make sure you’re okay. Pulling his dripping length from your lips, Seb crouches down to cup your face in his hands. You cough and take in a few ragged breaths before meeting his gaze. He strokes your cheek, “such a good girl for me” he sighs pulling you in for a searing kiss.
“Up you go,” he says, pushing you up to standing. You lean back against the parked bike, not trusting your legs to hold you. Now it’s your turn to look down at Seb, even though you know you have tear streaks on your face and drool on your chin, his eyes are full of adoration. It’s so cute you don’t know if you want to laugh or to cry.
He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your thighs. Then his fingers catch the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough for him to press a soft kiss to your stomach. He grabs the waist of your jeans, eagerly undoing the button and zipper he pulls them down to reveal your black panties. This pair has a little bow just below the waistband like you’re a present that’s his to unwrap. He stands slowly, moving his hands from your waist to cup your breasts. 
He kisses you softly then whispers in your, “Turn around for me baby.” 
You do, bracing yourself against the bike. He softly touches your ass. It’s fully on display, framed by the lacy black straps of your thong. He growls, slapping your soft flesh. You let out a moan as the cool night breeze instantly soothes the sting. Seb cups your pussy and chuckles when he feels the hot wet crotch of your panties. 
“If I knew you’d like the bike so much, I would’ve put you on it ages ago,” he teases, pulling the fabric to the side.
He teases your slit with a long finger, dragging it through your folds to lightly flick your clit. You gasp and arch your back. Fuck he loves how responsive you are, every touch eliciting a reaction. He plunges two fingers into you, pumping his cock at the same pace. He gets lost in watching his digits disappear into your warm, wet hole. 
“M-more Seb, please,” you whine, pulling him from his trance. Before you register the loss of his fingers, the tip of his cock is already teasing your folds. You moan, pushing your hips back. 
Seb chuckles. “Is my sweet girl ready for my cock?” he asks under his breath.
He knows the answer is yes, he knows you’ve been ready since before the show, but he likes making you wait. Teasing you until his cock is the only thing that could make you feel better. He notches his length at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You groan, finally getting what you’ve been craving for days. Your toys at home can’t compare to this feeling. Being filled and fucked by your man. 
He slowly enters you until his entire length is sheathed inside your perfect pussy. Your walls clench around him causing his breathing to turn ragged. His grip on your hips tightens, as he eases out of you until just his tip is inside of you. Then without warning, he shoves all the way back in. You cry out, arching your back and Seb knows he’s hit the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He thrusts into you again and again, fingers leaving bruises on your flesh as he steers you closer and closer to orgasm. Your walls squeeze him tighter and he knows you’re close. 
“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, “Cum for me, you can do it.” 
And you do, expletives and his name string together in a chant that he’s sure could raise him from the dead as you cum around his cock. He follows you over that cliff, pushing as deep as he’s able, sealing his body with yours as tightly as he can. If two souls could join, it must feel like this, he thinks as he empties himself into you.
The two of you stay in this position, you draped over the motorcycle like Seb’s wet dream and Seb still inside you, head hung low, trying to keep his legs from giving out as he decides if he ever wants to move again. And then your pussy flutters around his length and he’s sure if he doesn’t pull out now he’ll die from the overstimulation. Easing his cock from you he watches entranced as his seed drips out of you.
He’s never wanted kids but his mind is suddenly filled with images of your belly swollen as his child grows inside of you. He flushes and his cock twitches painfully at the thought. He pushes that desire down, your relationship (if you can even call it that) is so new, he’ll do anything to keep from scaring you away.
Carefully, he covers your dripping pussy with the thin strap of fabric that is your thong. You groan and wiggle your hips as he rubs you through the fabric. Seb slaps your bare ass, huffing out a laugh at your little yelp. After tucking his cock away and pulling on his jeans, Seb helps you up and turns you around. Leaning against his bike, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head and breathing in the smell of your hair. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.
His heart is so full he fears it might burst. You pull back to see his face, the look in his eyes is so tender, so loving you have to hold back tears. You slide your hands behind his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The kiss is long, full of hope and passion and all the things you are too nervous to say.
Pulling away from the kiss, Seb squeezes your still-exposed ass. “Let’s put this away before you tempt me to go again,” he says pulling up your jeans. You giggle, buttoning your pants. When you look up Seb is back on the bike, his arm extended toward you with helmet in hand. 
“What do you say, baby, let’s keep this adventure going?” he asks, hoping you understand the weight of his words. You know that after tonight, your heart is his whether he knows it yet or not. You take the helmet and climb onto the bike behind him. You whisper into his ear, “Lead the way Sebby,” and set the helmet on your head. He starts up to engine and with a whoop, the two of you speed off into the night. 
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thelostconsultant · 22 days
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Let her go
pairing: Lando Norris x MotoGP rider!reader
summary: You have a massive crash on a weekend when you're both racing. And that crash was really massive.
warnings: major character death (surprise, surprise)
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Every time your race weekends took place at the same time, you both promised to watch the other’s sessions live if they weren’t at an ungodly hour that would screw up your sleep schedule, and in every other case you would watch it later when you had the time. It worked well so far, and this weekend wasn’t any different. You were both in Europe, the sessions’ start times were aligned perfectly to make sure fans could watch both F1 and MotoGP.
Lando was sitting on a couch in front of a TV, watching you make it into Q2 from Q1 with the best lap time with a proud smile on his face. Some members of the team joined his little watch party, although he knew perfectly well most of them had their favorite riders, who weren’t necessarily you. But it didn’t bother him. He was one of your biggest fans, and the same way you were one of his.
Four minutes into the qualifying you were in P6, a decent result that would give you a second row start, but there was time for several flying in the remaining time, so he knew you had to improve in run two to keep that position. The Ducatis were fast, and you were riding a GP23 that wasn’t as fast as the newest model, but still gave you a chance to fight for a first row position. Well, Marc was there to snatch it again, but maybe you would stand a chance against the eight-time world champion if you put together one amazing lap.
It was your first flying lap in run two when the cameras began to follow you. You were pushing yourself hard, it was clear, but you had a great first sector and at the moment you were estimated to finish in P2. But then he saw you being catapulted off your bike, landing on the track while the vehicle crashed into the barrier on the side of the track behind the gravel trap. Lando’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for you to jump up and walk away, but you didn’t move.
At all.
The race was immediately red flagged and luckily the other riders noticed you in time and didn’t hit you to make things worse. But the cameras quickly turned to find other parts of the track and the pit lane, the only thing shown related to the accident being the reactions of the team in the box and on the pit wall. Lando could feel his colleagues’ gazes on him, everyone sitting in heavy silence as they waited to find out what was happening. He sent a message to your assistant to make sure she called after getting any news about you, but according to her no one knew anything.
After fifteen long minutes his phone rang, and as if the others could sense he wanted to be alone now, they left without a word. “Hey, you have news?” he asked, voice trembling badly.
The young woman on the other end of the line took a deep breath, then said, “She was airlifted to the hospital. It’s bad, Lando. We’ll only know the exact details after they examined her there, but she’ll be in surgery for a long time apparently. The doc said there might be a spinal injury among the other things. I’m about to book a flight for her parents so they can be there with her.”
He gulped in hopes this could hold back his tears. Your job was dangerous, he had always said those guys in MotoGP were crazy, but having to witness the love of his life crash like that was a little too much. He always assumed the worst that could happen to you was a broken bone in your hand or a cracked collarbone, but a little metal could fix that, just as it had fixed dozens of riders on the grid over the years.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can you keep me updated?” he asked her.
“Sure. FP3 is coming up for you, right? Be careful, the last thing we need is you getting hurt too.”
They said goodbye and Lando leaned back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. She was right, his next session was just about to begin, but how could he focus on driving when you were in such a bad condition? Maybe he would get in, then get out if his head wasn’t in it. There was no reason to force this.
He felt the couch shift on his side, and when he looked over there, he noticed Oscar sitting next to him with a worried look in his eyes. “I heard what happened,” was all he said.
Lando let out a deep sigh as he ran a hand through his curly hair. “I don’t wanna be here, I wanna be there with her,” he said, his voice breaking as he struggled to keep the tears back. “I’m so stupid, I always thought she was invincible, but in reality she is so fragile, I don’t even know how I could assume she would never get hurt.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” his teammate began as he put a hand on his shoulder. “This was a terrible accident, nothing more. She’s in good hands, there are great doctors there.” When he nodded, Oscar forced a barely visible smile on his face. “I have an idea. Spain isn’t that far away, maybe you could fly there after qualifying, and come back tomorrow before the race. Maybe seeing her could help you focus on driving again.”
It wasn’t such a bad idea, it could actually work, so he nodded and jumped up, moving towards the exit without saying anything. He could hear Oscar following him without missing a beat, and the Aussie soon caught up with him as they headed to find Zak in hospitality where he was last seen. Lando could feel everyone’s gaze on himself, so he assumed the news of your accident had spread like wildfire in the paddock. A journalist tried to approach him, but his teammate was kind enough to get him to leave with an annoyed come on, mate.
Zak was chatting with a VIP guest, but the moment he noticed them arrive, he excused himself and walked over to them. “I heard what happened. How is she? Do you know anything?” he asked worriedly.
Lando shrugged as he tried to find the right words to say. “All I heard is that it’s bad, there might even be a spinal injury.”
“You think you can focus on driving?”
With a nod, he looked down at his hand. “I’ll get in, do a few laps, and we’ll see. I don’t want to miss the weekend unless…”
“Don’t even think about that,” Oscar was quick to say, understanding what the rest of the sentence was supposed to be. “Zak, I’ve been thinking. What if he gets on a plane after qualifying, goes to Spain to see her, then returns tomorrow before the race? Maybe it would be good for him.”
Looking over at his teammate, Lando couldn’t help but feel grateful for his calm personality. He could think straight in even the most stressful situations, and now he could sense that he wasn’t in the right state to come up with these ideas. And Zak seemed to be understanding, because he nodded and agreed to let him do it.
From Lando’s point of view, the practice session just… happened. His head wasn’t in it, he only focused on testing a few settings just to see how the car felt and reacted, but he only did one or two fast laps. Between runs on the track, he kept checking his phone to see if there was any news, but all he saw was a message that you were still in surgery with no new information about you.
Shortly before qualifying, he gave your assistant a call to tell her he would fly there soon, but he wasn’t expecting to be greeted like this. Because she was crying, her voice muffled as she talked, and he had trouble understanding her. Then there were words exchanged in the background, and the phone was obviously taken by someone who wasn’t a crying mess. It was your crew chief, he recognized his voice when he greeted him, but it was also full of sadness.
He knew something was terribly wrong, and he felt nauseous at the thought. “What’s going on?” he managed to ask after some silence.
The man on the other end of the line took a deep breath. “She’s out of surgery, but… she’s hooked on machines and the doctors say she’ll stay that way. The staff in the medical center assumed she only had a severe concussion, but tests showed that the brain injury was much more serious than expected.”
“No.”
“Her parents aren’t here yet, but we talked to them the moment we got new info. They understand what’s happening, and they wanted us to tell you they will wait for you to get here tomorrow so you can say goodbye before they turn off the machines,” he said, his voice cracking by the end.
Lando felt like fainting. His head was spinning, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, but at the same time his body froze entirely. He just stood there in the back of the garage, staring straight ahead as he thought about what he should do. It was only after a minute or two that he took a deep breath and said, “I’m going there right now.”
But Paolo was quick to speak up again. “Lando, listen, she would want you to get in that car and go on with the weekend as if nothing happened. You will come here tomorrow after the race, and you will have time to let her go,” he said, forcing himself to keep his calm.
“What do you mean let her go? Apparently everyone, including her own parents, gave up on her. There has to be at least one person there who fights for her, because the doctors need to do something to fix her!” he yelled into the phone, earning a few worried looks.
“Listen, there’s no fixing her. She’s brain-dead. If it weren’t for the machines, she wouldn’t be alive now.” Silence fell between them, and it was your crew chief who broke it. “Lando?”
“Fuck this,” was all the Brit said before ending the call.
His vision was blurred by the tears, but he wiped them away and headed to where Zak was talking to one of the engineers. At this point he wasn’t about to take no for an answer, so he approached him with the intention to state his intention to leave immediately before actually doing so. When his boss’ eyes fell on him, it was clear that he knew something was wrong, because the moment he got there, Zak grabbed his arm and gently led him to a more private part of their garage.
He didn’t say anything, only waited for his driver to talk to him. But Lando hesitated, having absolutely no idea where to begin and how to tell him the truth about you. Paolo had been right, you would want him to continue, but how could he do that when they were ready to pull the plug without trying to make things right? There had to be something they could do.
Zak seemingly had enough of the silence. “What’s wrong? Bad news about her?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.
Lando nodded. “They say she’s brain-dead and can’t be saved,” he said, once again fighting his tears. “I–I don’t think I can do this. The qualifying, the race, the whole fucking media circus… I just can’t do it, I’m sorry.”
“Okay, try to calm down. Get in the car, do a few laps, and see if you can focus on that. Maybe it will even help you clear your mind,” he tried, but all he got in response was a murderous look. “She would understand if you arrived a few hours later. Just like we agreed; you go there after qualifying, then return tomorrow before the race. We need points to beat Red Bull this year. We need you on the track, Lando, even if it sounds terrible now. Dedicate this weekend to her.”
He agreed, but only because of you. Only because the people around the two of you were right, and as a professional athlete you would focus on your race too. So, he did everything he could to focus, he pushed himself to the limit, and eventually managed to finish the qualifying in P2. First row behind Charles. You would be proud. Their press officer warned the reporters that they should not ask questions about you, so he could focus on the session alone, although mentally he was already on his way to the airport.
A few hours later he met your assistant in the hospital’s lobby after fighting his way through the army of photographers and reporters outside. She guided him to the room you were in without saying a single word, and when you reached the door, she stayed outside, even though everyone was inside. He gave her a questioning look when he turned back, but she only shook her head and wiped away her tears.
Your mother jumped up and hugged him tightly when she noticed him, and your father also stood up to do the same. Lando didn’t know what to say, but neither did your parents. Paolo was watching him with a worried look in his eyes, the memory of their previous conversation probably vivid in his mind. But he wasn’t about to make a scene. He had time to think, he had time to do some research, so now he understood the chances of you coming back to them was close to none.
With hesitant steps, he walked to the side of the bed and took your hand, his thumb massaging your skin the same way he had done so many times in the past. But now you wouldn’t react, you wouldn't wrap your delicate fingers around his hand with that adorable smile on your face. He started crying, for the first time letting himself go and not holding it back, and he began to tell you between sobs how sorry he was for not coming sooner, for all the times you fought over stupid, meaningless things, for not proposing before it became too late.
He told you how much he loved you, how he couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone else the same way he loved you. Then he leaned down to kiss your lips, probably for the very last time, and he kept repeating I love you like it was a mantra that kept him sane.
After God knows how long, your mother put a hand on his shoulder to make him look at her. By now he had stopped crying, but after seeing her watering eyes, he had a feeling he would be crying again soon. Because he could tell what was coming, he could feel it in his bones. That grave sadness in her eyes could only mean one thing, and even though he wasn’t ready to hear it, he paid close attention to every word.
“I think it’s time to let her go,” she said hoarsely.
To his own surprise, Lando nodded and let her take his place, then he stood in a corner and watched as your parents said goodbye to you. He didn’t want this, he couldn’t accept that he lost you, but a rational part in his mind told him it was over, and it was time to let you go. Your mother was right, it was better to turn off the machines now, because seeing you hooked on them for a few more days would only drive them crazy.
He said goodbye to your parents in the hospital after the doctor announced the time of your death and went to his hotel to spend the night crying and suffering on his own. He saw the messages on his phone, and he noticed the way their number increased after your team announced your death on official channels. But he didn’t want to talk to anyone, and even at the race the next day, he avoided everyone as long as he could. If he talked, he only talked about the car and the upcoming race, everything else was a taboo at the moment.
On the track he was powered by his rage, which resulted in a couple of aggressive moves, but in the end, he managed to win the race. When he stood in front of the reporter after getting out of the car, he was terrified of a question regarding you arising, because he was damn sure he would break down at that very moment, but apparently his press officer had previously told them not to bring it up. So, all he said was a simple I did it for her at the end and nothing more.
It would be a long process to move on, he knew that.
His parents told him to come over until the funeral so he wouldn’t be alone, which would surely help him calm down a bit, then he would lock himself up in his home and his focus would shift back to racing again. But deep down he knew he had to let his friends close again too, because they kept assuring him that they were there, and he could always count on them. Maybe that was the key. Maybe letting others support him would speed up the grieving process.
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shhhsecretsideblog · 2 months
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Hi, i hope you don't mind if i request to combine 2 prompts in one scenario.
8. "There's so much pressure..."
12. "Come on, you'll be fine. First labour's take ages.
Scenario: a pregnant woman got kidnapped by her obsessive ex-boyfriend, went into labor and begged him to take her to the hospital because she can't be having the baby in his basement, but he refused. Go as wild and dark as you want.
Thanks 💌
Thanks for the request anon, this was delicious to write. Only prompt no.8 has been included as the other didn’t naturally fit in to wherever the hell this story went. I swear I have no control, these stories take on a life of their own. You said go wild and dark, so… 😈 Trigger warnings; kidnapping, vomit, blood, violence, mental instability, death (not mum or bubs dw), oh and of course fpreg & birth. Hope you like it
Chained
Libby’s eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for her vision to focus but when it did she realised nothing was familiar. The room was dimly lit, no natural light source, only a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Dark grey bricks formed each of the four walls and the floor below was concrete and rough. She was lying down, on old discoloured bedding on a rickety metal bed. Where the hell was she?! She tried to push herself upright, but she discovered one arm could not be moved. It was handcuffed to the bed!
“What the hell…” Libby muttered.
“Ah… you’re awake.” Came a voice from the shadows.
Stepping into the light Libby saw a man walk towards her. It was Scott, her ex boyfriend. He looked awful. She’d not seen him since they broke up 18 months ago. His hair had grown, now matted and unkept, dark circles hung beneath his eyes and his usually clean shaven chin now sported a severe and dishelved five o’clock shadow.
“…Scott? Where… where am I?” She asked confused and still a little bit groggy.
“You’re at home darling. I rescued you.”
Libby’s brain whirled into overdrive. She remembered going to a midwife appointment, it was her final check up before her due date, she finished the appointment and headed back to her car. She had stopped just before opening the door, hearing something behind her, and then…. everything went black.
“Rescued me?! From what?” Libby asked, managing to push herself to a sitting position with her one free hand.
“From making a mistake. Did you really think you could keep me away from my baby?” Scott drawled, his eyes staring hungrily at her pregnant stomach.
“What the fuck are you talking about? We broke up, I moved on. This isn’t your baby!”
Libby’s outburst was rewarded by a forceful smack across the face. The distinctive metallic taste of blood soon filled her mouth. She was shocked into silence.
“We were great together! We were happy; we were going to get married, have a family, and then… Brendon came along. Poisoning our relationship, turning you against me, stealing you for himself. No! I won’t let him take this away. I’ve brought you home baby… so we can be together.” Scott’s hand touched her bump and his eyes widened in glee. “Where we can be a family.”
This man was insane, Libby thought, realising the true danger of this situation. It was one thing having an ex that still held a candle towards you, but this was way beyond that. She knew Scott hadn’t taken the break up well, but since the split he’d clearly disappeared into a realm of utter delusion. The baby in her womb shifted, feeling the fear of its mother. Scott’s mouth twitched into an uncomfortable grin, feeling the child move. Libby daren’t say anything, it was clear he was unstable and there was no telling what might set him off.
“Rest up sweetie. I’ll get you some food, you must be hungry. Eating for two and all that.” Scott said cheerfully, removing his hand from her stomach and disappearing upstairs.
Libby looked down at her stomach and her handcuffed wrist. She didn’t feel hungry at all. Only nauseous.
~•~
Scott returned and brought her food. Libby didn’t say anything, didn’t move, too scared of accidentally provoking him. He left the tray of sandwiches and crisps on the side table next to the bed and disappeared upstairs, offering a firm “Eat” before he went.
Her memories had returned as she gradually came around from whatever drug Scott had administered. Brendon and Libby had decided to have a little trip away this weekend before the baby came. A baby-moon as they say. They’d told all their friends and family they’d be out of town and without signal for a few days, but this morning Brendon called to say he had a work emergency and they’d have to cancel. That was fine, Libby would just go visit her parents instead. Only she never got a chance to call her parents after the midwife appointment. Everyone thought her and Brendon were away, and Brendon thought she was at her parents - no one would realise she’d been kidnapped.
Her stomach rolled with fear. She needed to think, find a way out of here. Wherever “here” was…. Where the fuck had Scott taken her? She didn’t recognise the room, it could be anywhere. She looked over at the plate of food and her heart sank. She recognised the crockery - this was his family’s cabin, in the middle of the woods.
~•~
Days. She’d been there days. Her family and Brendon would hopefully know she was missing by now. But they’d never find her here.
Scott continued to visit, to bring her food, to talk the baby in her womb. He’d offered to bathe her once, disgusted by the thought she refused. When he tried to get more forceful, hitting her again, she faked practice labour pains and he thankfully left her alone to rest.
She barely spoke to him anymore, too fearful to say the wrong thing again, of which she had learnt the hard way. She tried once to play along with his delusion, that he had “rescued” her from Brendon and now they could be a family. Believing her, Scott eventually unlocked the handcuffs, but when she made a break for it towards the stairs of the basement Scott went ballistic. They got into a fight; she kicked and screamed and hit, but he was stronger and in the carnage she fell forward against the wooden stairs she was trying to climb.
Scott was stricter with the handcuffs after that. Libby swore to herself not to try it again for fear of what might happen to the baby if she fell again.
She had been feeling cramps ever since the fall. They weren’t too bad or debilitating, thankfully she wasn’t bleeding which Libby hoped was a good sign and that her baby was okay. The fall was a brutal reminder of the precious cargo she was carrying and she had to be careful.
The next night Libby was awoken by a forceful cramp rolling through her middle, much worse than any of the others she had felt. Curling round her stomach she breathed heavily through the wave until it passed, and she promptly fell back asleep.
It happened again shortly after, pulling her from her slumber and waking every cell of her body as it peaked, like a coil twisting tighter and tighter. She pushed herself up to sit on the bed. The room was pitch black - Scott controlled the lights and was the only way she knew if it was day or night. She rubbed the aching cramp rolling across her tightened belly with one hand, the other remaining chained to the bedpost. She wished she could move, to walk it off, but with the handcuffs and the darkness she had little options. Instead she got on her hands and knees and rocked steadily through the pain.
“Please be practice contractions…” she whispered to herself. “You can’t come now baby, you’re safe in there. Wait until we get outta here okay?”
The cramp eventually eased and after a few minutes waiting for the next, Libby let herself sink sideways back onto the bed. The baby had got the message, it was just practice pains, she thought to herself as she drifted back off to sleep.
~•~
The light to the basement flickered to life followed by the familiar stomping of feet on wooden steps.
“Morning sweetheart. How’s the mother of my child today?” Scott said in such a cheerful caring tone it caused a shiver to roll up Libby’s spine.
She glared at him from the bed, lying down under the covers half asleep and curled around her bump.
“Still not talking to me eh? Oh well. It won’t be long before I have a son or daughter to talk to.” Scott drawled, as he placed a cup of water and slice of toast onto the bedside table.
Another cramp squeezed her belly and Libby sucked in a breath, hissing through her teeth. She could feel her stomach hardening beneath her fingers as the practice contraction squeezed.
“Honey, are you alright?” Scott’s eyes pinched in cautious concern.
“Just a kick.” Libby said, schooling her face back to a neutral expression.
“Excited to meet their daddy no doubt.” He gleefully said making Libby feel sick.
This baby is NOT yours! She cried in her head.
“Get up and have some breakfast. I’ve got some things to show you today.” Scott said, offering a hand to help her up.
Libby ignored his hand and pushed herself upright. “What things?”
“All in good time my dear. It’s a surprise.” And with that he disappeared back upstairs with a gallop.
She could hear banging and thumping above her and wondered what on earth he was doing. Her stomach growled and she reluctantly nibbled on the toast that was provided. After eating she was left solely with her thoughts and the noises from upstairs. Plus the occasional cramps that continued to plague her. Sitting down became too frustrating and she managed to get herself to standing right beside the bed. Her arm was pulled uncomfortably far forward by the handcuffs, but at least it relieved the pressure in her hips.
The baby felt so low, like it was grinding on her pelvis. But she did feel like her breathing was better now. Libby tried to focus only on the positives and did not dwell enough to realise this meant the baby had dropped into position for birth.
She stayed standing as long as she could beside the bed, riding out the braxton hicks and swaying her hips side to side, but eventually her legs ached from the awkward position so she return to sit on the bed.
The practice contractions continued to wash over her whilst Scott was banging away upstairs. Libby was starting to get hot and sweaty and could barely sit still through them. She found herself biting her lips and humming through them, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. She didn’t want to attract Scott’s attention. She ended up back on all fours on the bed, one hand awkwardly attached to the bed while she rocked forwards and back through the rising waves. It was getting harder and harder to stay silent through these pains and it was getting more and more difficult to convince herself these were only practice contractions.
“Ohhhh… we had a deal baby. You have to s-stay in there…. It’s not s-safe…” Libby moaned quietly to her child, the pressure in her hips mounting with every contraction.
The sounds of movement from above made her panic. Scott was coming. Quickly, she moved from all fours and returned to her sitting position on the bed. Sitting down made everything worse - the heavily feeling of the baby so so low caused the pressure to spike. So much so she nearly threw up, gaging slightly at the same time Scott opened the basement door.
She could hear him huffing and puffing as he stomped every step, he was clearly struggling with something, and she saw the “surprise” before she saw him. It was a crib! Oh hell no, she thought to herself. There is no way my baby is being born here and it will never go in that thing.
“Darling…” he cooed as he got down to the basement “I got you something. Well, I got our baby something - a crib!” He said proudly as he placed it at the foot of the bed.
Libby didn’t say anything; saying something negative could earn her a slap, saying something positive he’d think she was up to something.
“Well?” He asked, clearly getting frustrated with her silence.
“It’s… nice.” She said timidly, he didn’t seem any calmer so she added “thank you.”
With that Scott broke into an unhinged smile. “Only the best for my baby. Made it myself!”
Libby felt the familiar tightening of another contraction approaching. Breathing steadily through her nose, she tried to keep any pain showing on her face.
“What do you think of the design?” He urged, unaware of the struggle happening inside Libby’s womb.
“Great.” She gritted out as calmly as she could.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Scott rushed upstairs leaving Libby alone for a minute.
The second he was out of sight her eyes scrunched and she panted erratically. Her hips were on fire, the baby sinking lower and lower. This was no false alarm, Libby finally admitted to herself.
Scott came bounding downstairs with a pile of baby clothes and blankets. “I also got these. I wasn’t sure if we were having a boy or a girl so got a selection of different clothes. And lots of blankets and toys. Everything we could possibly need.”
Libby couldn’t help it but she groaned loudly and curled over her contracting stomach.
“They’re not that bad!” Scott said, referring to the pile of clothes he’d now dumped into the crib.
“Ooooooh Scott….” Libby whimpered, the pain still barrelling through her body.
“Lib? What is it? What’s wrong?” He crouched down in front of her and placed a hand on her knee.
“I think… hooooo- I think I’m in labour. You have to take me to the hospital.” Libby pleaded.
“What? Oh no, you’re not fooling me again.” Scott recoiled away from her, and started pacing. “You- you tried that before remember. And then you tried to run away, to take my baby away! You were going to leave me Lib! No!! I’m not letting you out of my sight again. No way. No one else can have you. You and that baby are mine!”
“Scott… please. I’m having contractions… I need help… I need doctors…”
“No… I can’t. You’re just going to leave me again. I can’t lose you.” Scott shook his head, like he was trying to reorganise the thoughts inside. “You’re just pretending again, you’re not really having the baby, you’re just trying to escape. Well you can’t trick me twice. Nuh-uh. I’ll come back when you’ve stopped the act.”
“No! Scott!” Libby cried but the door slammed before she could say anything else.
~•~
Libby shouted and pleaded for 10 minutes straight after Scott went upstairs, but he never came back down. She stopped when her voice started to crack and when she thought she heard the front door slam.
This baby was coming and she was trapped - handcuffed to a bed in a basement in the middle of nowhere, the only person for miles was her crazy ex boyfriend who was convinced the baby was his.
Despite her wishful thinking, the contractions just kept on coming. It was as if accepting they were real had made them more frequent and stronger. There was no clock down here, she had no clue how often they struck, but Libby was aware of the gaps in between getting shorter.
Being in labour was bad enough but the fact she couldn’t move due to her restraints made everything a thousand time’s worse. In desperation she tried to squeeze her hand out the metal handcuff, twisting and pulling, but when it started to peel the skin off the back of her hand she screamed and gave up.
She couldn’t sit down anymore, the pain in her hips too great. All fours was bearable but her arms ached after too long. She tried squatting and kneeling against the headboard, standing and swaying beside the bed. Nothing helped. She felt like a caged animal; frustrated, angry, scared. All the while every contraction brought the baby closer and closer to being born, a fate she was trying desperately to avoid. She feared something might go wrong, and she was scared what would happen the moments after she delivered. Scott was clearly unstable, would he leave her here chained to the bed bleeding out and take away her baby?! She needed medical help, not only for the birth but for her best shot at escaping.
When Scott returned he found her on her knees beside the bed, slumped over the mattress and groaning heavily.
“You can stop this charade Libby! I’m not taking you anywhere!” Scott shouted from the steps of the basement.
“Mnnnghhh! It’s not a charade Scott! Oh god…. So much pressure….” Libby whimpered into the mattress, her knees widening instinctually.
“Come off it. You put on a good show but I know you’re faking it.”
Libby could only grunt, roaring against the building pressure between her thighs. An unmistakable splashing sound hit the concrete floor and she cried out. “My waters…. Hooo- I’m not - faking - it…” she panted and turned around to face him.
Scott’s face had paled and his eyebrows shot up. “Y-you really are in labour?”
“Yes,” Libby breathed, turning around awkwardly with the handcuffs and her large bump, sitting down heavily on the now-wet floor “please please take me to the hospital now.”
He didn’t say anything, instead he disappeared quickly back upstairs.
“Scott!!!” She cried out, worried he would just leave her there forever.
He returned a moment later carrying a plastic box. “It’s happening! Don’t worry darling, I have everything we need for our baby to be born.”
It’s not your baby!!!! Libby shouted in her head.
Sitting on the floor, one arm slung up over a shoulder stuck in the handcuffs, she rubbed her low and heavy stomach with the other as Scott began to unpack the box onto the table opposite.
“Towels. Gloves. Scissors. Clamps. Ooh more towels. Little sucker thing. Wow it’s got everything we need in here. Great Amazon find.” Scott commented as he rattled off everything inside the box.
Holy shit! He wants to deliver the baby here! Libby stopped breathing for a moment, panic squeezing at her heart. He was never going to let her go. She was never going to get her baby out of here before it was born.
“Scott… you can’t… be serious…” Libby said with strained breath.
“Shhhhh. It’s okay sweetie. I’ve done all the research, watched loads of videos. I know exactly what I’m doing and I will deliver our baby here.”
“But Scott I need a hospital, with nurses and medication.”
“No you don’t. Women birth babies every day. I’ve had months to prepare for this. It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be perfect.” Scott’s sinister smile chilled her resolve and another contraction struck before she could continue arguing.
He checked his watched and frowned. “You shouldn’t be having another contraction just yet.”
“I can’t hooooo control it!” Libby snipped.
“Oooo is this the part where you get all angry at me for doing this to you?” Scott joked with glee.
“You didn’t do this to me! This isn’t your baby Scott, please just let me go.”
“Don’t lie!!!!!” Scott shouted, an angry fire flashed briefly in his eyes and his fists clenched tight, but a second later the ire quickly disappeared. “You’re just scared, but it’s okay sweetie, I’m here and our baby will be fine.”
“Ohhh god…..” Libby grunted, the baby slipping lower and pressing against her cervix. She had to move, this position was unbearable, but her legs were useless during the raging contraction. She tried to push herself up, yanking her hands forward but the handcuff rattled and left her arm twisted backwards. “Mnnhhh- handcuffs…. Please undo the handcuffs…”
“You know I can’t do that Lib.” Scott said reluctantly.
“Please…. Mnghhhhh the baby…. I need to move. Can’t stay like this Scott…” Libby groaned and whimpered as the contraction peaked and gradually faded.
“I’m sorry honey, I can’t risk it. But let’s get you back onto the bed shall we, you’ll be much more comfortable there.”
The contraction had left her winded, Libby didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. But when Scott approached and went to help her up she managed to grit “Don’t touch me!” batting his advancing hands away.
“That’s gonna be difficult when I’m delivering our child.” Scott sarcastically replied.
Libby’s stomach rolled, not from a contraction but at the disgusting thought of Scott between her legs. Nausea bubbled inside, rising up her throat. She retched. “I think I’m gonna be sick…”
Scott jumped back as she dry heaved. “Erm…. I’ll get a bucket. Hang on.”
Libby struggled up to her knees, clinging sideways to the bed, and vomited all over the floor. The force of her stomach expelling its contents pushed the baby against her dilating cervix and towards the birth canal. She couldn’t stop herself from bearing down at the same time.
No no no… don’t push. Her brain cried but it wasn’t something she had control over.
By the time Scott returned with a bucket Libby had crawled back into the bed, leaving behind a puddle of amniotic fluid and vomit on the floor.
“Jeeze Libby, you’ve made a right mess. I’m glad we’re down here now, that would have been a nightmare to clean the carpets upstairs.”
“…water…” Libby panted, curled up on the bed and holding her hardened stomach, too exhausted to do anything other than bear through the labour pains tearing apart her body.
“Okay, sure.” Scott picked up the glass from the table and gently poured it into Libby’s dry mouth. “Everything will be okay Libby, our baby is nearly here.” He whispered, placing a grimy hand onto her bump and feeling the swell, his eyes hungrily lighting up as his fingers caressed the curve.
~•~
She was dying. This was how it would end; trapped in the dirty basement of her crazy ex boyfriend. She never got to meet her baby, or get married, never got to buy her own home, or travel the world. The pain was so much she could barely see. Curled up on the bed Libby groaned into the pillow as the latest contraction squeezed her body in on itself. She was vaguely aware of Scott flapping around the room, he was talking but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. The only thing she could focus on was the mass of the baby’s head sitting right behind her opening, and she was doing everything she could not to push.
The last few hours had been torture. She’d thrashed around the bed, screaming and begging to be freed, to be taken to the hospital. When transition hit she was brought back onto all fours, grunting and pushing without any semblance of control. Scott rubbed her back and encouraged her through it. She didn’t have the strength to bat him off but she did manage to aim her next round of vomiting onto his feet. And all the while Scott refused to unlock the handcuffs and she remained chained to the bed.
Now she was lying on her side over the covers, exhausted, her body completely and utterly drained. Her knees were curled up as much as she could, her bump squashed between her thighs and her breasts. The contractions were right on top of each other and she panted heavily through each one.
Don’t push! Don’t push! Don’t push! she told herself again and again.
“Right, the waters boiled, everything’s disinfected. Clamps and scissors ready. Towel, check. All we need now… is the baby…” Scott muttered, organising and reorganising the equipment.
Ever since the well-timed vomit, he had kept a grateful distance from Libby. He looked through all the toys and clothes in the crib, talking about all the things he would do with his child, trips they’d make, sports they’d play. He was in his own little world, Libby was just a background character.
Relentless contractions kept hitting her one after the other, she breathed as quietly as she could, tears leaking past her lashes from the effort it was taking not to push. She could feel the baby start to stretch her lips, the head inching further and further even without her active pushing. He’d removed her underwear not long after her waters had broken but her dress remained on her sweaty body, thankfully covering her lower half as she laid on the bed. Libby’s legs slightly parted of their own accord as the baby slipped lower. Still curled up on her side, the baby had a clear exit from its mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Scott was ignoring her when she was lying like this and it was the only position that didn’t make her scream. And yet it also proved to be aiding her delivery.
When the next contraction barrelled straight after its predecessor Libby found herself holding her breath and it was only when the burning feeling started that she realised she was pushing. But she couldn’t stop. Gasping another breath she pushed once more, the baby stretching her wider and wider. An involuntary grunt escaped the labouring mother and alerted Scott to her actions.
“Are you…. Libby - are you pushing?! Is it time?” Scott jumped and rushed over to the bed.
Libby curled further over, her face burying into the pillow, squashing her bump and raising her backside. She groaned long and deep as she pushed the baby further out.
“Oh babe, you can’t push like that! You need to get in the correction position for delivery.” Scott said assuredly with all the delusional confidence his “research” had given him.
He took her bent leg, rolling her over onto her back and she screamed. “Scott! No!” The pain was excruciating, her spine was being stabbed, the fire burning between her thighs. She needed to push but she couldn’t when he kept moving her body.
“You need to be in the right position. Come on now, I know what I’m doing.”
“Stop… I can’t… I need to push…” Libby grunted.
“Wait a minute darling, you’re not ready just yet.”
Scott pulled her up to a sitting position and pushed her back against the headboard, pointlessly fluffing the limp old pillows behind her. Her legs were dragged apart and knees were bent and he jumped onto the foot of the bed and looked up her dress.
“Oh my gosh I can see the head!!!” He squealed. He threw her dress up higher, creasing the fabric just below her baby bump, fully exposing Libby’s vagina and the oval shaped crown of the head.
“Push Libby! You can push now!” He urged.
“I’m not-having a contraction-” Libby panted, furious she had been moved into this ridiculous and torturous position. Nothing about it felt right to her body, she wanted to go back on her side, to kneel, squat, anything but this.
“Oh… erm… well on the next one then. Push. No wait, I forgot the equipment.” Scott bounced off the bed and collected all the sterilised equipment he’d been preparing in readiness. “Ha! All that excitement, nearly forgot these.” He placed the items next to him, by her feet. The metal scissors glinted as they caught the light.
A desperate idea began to form in her head, but a contraction soon swept over her and pulled her focus to the burning ring between her thighs.
“Yes!!! Go on Libby! Push!!!” Scott cried.
Curling forward Libby pushed, her body squeezing the baby lower, its head stretching her wider. She grabbed her thighs, gulped another breath, and pushed. The scissors caught the light again with the movement on the bed. If she could just grab them…
“It’s coming, keep it going honey!” Scott yelled and she could feel his trembling hand between her legs.
Libby huffed releasing the push. It was too much, it was too big…
“Come on baby, go again, you’re so close.” Scott urged.
“Hooo-hoooo- okay…. Here it comes….!!!!” Libby threw herself forward curling over her bump once more. With Scott’s focus on the crowning baby she quickly grabbed the scissors and hid them in the gathered fabric of her dress. She screamed as the baby reached a full crown. Panting frantically her body twitched as the baby stretched her so wide she thought she’d be torn in two. Then it slipped further and with a sudden wail the baby’s head was delivered.
“Wow! The heads out, my baby’s head is born.” Scott awed.
Leaning closer his hands trembled towards the newly born head sitting between her thighs. No! You are not touching my baby! Libby thought, and she grabbed the hidden scissors and plunged them straight into Scott’s neck as she released an animalistic maternal wail.
Scott’s eyes bulged out, roaring in agony as the sharp scissors pierced deep into his muscles. He jumped back, standing for the briefest second staring in horror at her, before collapsing to his knees. A drowning choked sound gargled his throat and when he pulled the scissors from his neck the jets of blood sprayed across the room.
Libby watched, in shock at what she’d just done, as Scott clutched his neck, choking and bleeding. After a few strangled seconds he collapsed face first on the ground.
“Oh my god… oh my god….” Libby trembled, adrenaline and fear pumping through every cell in her body. She had to get out of there.
Twisting awkwardly around, she held the handcuff steady with her free hand and pulled her other through the tiny gap. The skin ripped from her hand, the metal scraping bone, she yelled out in pain but didn’t stop pulling until her bloodied hand was free.
It was as if she had left her physical body, the pain a dull echo compared to the survival instinct to get out of this basement. “I’m gonna get you outta here…” she panted, putting a gentle hand over the baby’s head between her legs. She scrambled off the bed, legs bowed as she cupped the head, and rushed toward the stairs of the basement.
Libby was careful, her previous encounter with this wooden staircase not ending well, climbing wide legged step after step towards freedom. She barely made it halfway when she was struck by another contraction. Holding the head with one hand and gripping the bannister tight with the other, her body squatted as it tried to push.
“Mnghhhhhhh! Oohhhhhh hang on baby…. Mnghhhhhh…. Not yet.” She could feel herself pushing hard, the shoulders starting to press against her, itching to come out, but with a firm hand and heavy panting she made it through the contraction.
When she reached upstairs she was surprised how familiar it all was, Scott had taken her here once when they were dating. It wasn’t much, the furniture and decor were dated, but it was a nice family holiday home in a nice rural location. She shuddered when she thought of the secret prison that was hidden below her feet.
Being familiar with the property made her escape easier, she knew the layout and of course where he kept the keys - in the side dish by the fridge. Grabbing the car keys Libby headed for the door and threw it open. But the baby didn’t want to wait any longer.
She hung on to the doorframe for dear life as the raging contraction took hold. “No no no!!!! We’re so close mnnnnnghhhhhh!!!!” Her legs widened as she squatted, pushing uncontrollably against the wall of her hand that held the baby’s head. The shoulders were slipping through… she could feel them stretching… “Ohhh fuck!” She cried, desperately pushing and holding the baby in at the same time.
When the near constant contraction let up just the tiniest bit, Libby made a break for it and ran to the car, both hands between her legs cupping the emerging baby. Unlocking the car with the press of the button she threw open the back door and clambered inside. She quickly locked the door, scared that Scott would somehow still be coming after her, and when she heard the reassuring click of the locks she huffed an exhausted cry.
But the baby was coming, and it was coming now. On her hands and knees in the back seat Libby finally gave in to nature and pushed in earnest, grunting long and deep as the shoulders stretched and slipped out. Lifting up onto her knees to catch the infant she released a primal roar with the final push and the baby slipped into her bloodied hands.
“Ohhhhhh hey baby, it’s okay it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Libby cried, pulling the little boy to her chest. Wiping his face clear he gave a little cough and started crying, soon matched with the tears of his mother.
“We did baby, we got out.” Libby panted and cried, safe with her baby inside the locked car. After a few minutes she wrapped the baby up against her chest with the towel, umbilical cord still connecting mother and child, and she hesitantly opened the door and got into the drivers seat. Starting the engine, Libby drove herself and her new baby to safety.
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lilhwahwa · 8 months
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ATEEZ Reaction: You can't fall asleep (Yungi. ver)
★|•°∵ Scenario: Your boyfriend reacts to you not being able to fall asleep.
★|•°∵ Idolbf!yungi x nonidol!reader
{PICS NOT MINE / FROM PINTEREST}
MASTERLIST
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Yunho
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Yunho made sure to spend well deserved time together this holiday season by inviting you over to the dorms. Most members had gone home to visit their families and he had the big apartment to himself. He prepared a cozy atmosphere by cleaning, preparing food and activities (you both just ended up eating junk food on the couch and watching a movie). After Yunho noticed you getting sleepy, he suggested going to bed and you agreed. Although you wished to stay up just a little later your body was drained from working and his bed was inviting you in with its fluffy blanket. Yunho asked if it would be okay for him to join Yeosang for a game and since you thought you'd fall asleep anyway, you agreed. Besides, watching him play was always entertaining.
After the initial twenty minutes you expected it would take you to fall asleep, you open your eyes with a sigh and began scanning small details on the ceiling of Yunho's room. The keyboard buttons moved quickly as Yunho's long fingers skilfully worked his character around. You sigh again and twist onto your side in frustration, hoping to find the exhaustion you felt just a while ago. Your mind couldn't formulate thoughts and begged you for sleep but your body just didn't comply.
Yunho had headphones on so you assumed he wouldn't hear you huffing and turning. You hug the blanket closer to your body and try to focus on a scenario playing in your head only to not get anywhere. Once a scenario made it to your head, it was replaced by the fact that you can't sleep and it'd go in loops, sabotaging itself.
You gasp from surprise when you feel a hand slide over your side and wrap around your torso. You look up to see Yunho hovering above you.
"Baby, am I being too loud?" He asked with a small pout, looking for an answer as he scans the frustation in your tired eyes. His fingers draw small circles on your tummy and you suddenly feel relaxed. Is his touch all it takes?
"No, I just thought I could sleep but I- it's just not coming to me" you sigh just as a yawn leaves you.
"Then..." he thinks before swiftly leaving your side without another word. You plop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he shuts his computer off and you immediately want to protest. You didn't want him to interrupt his gaming session.
"I know what you will say, I want to sleep now" Yunho cuts you thoughts short before you can protest. He slides into bed behind you and immediately stretches his long arms out to pull you closer into his body. You turn to face him and bury your nose in his shirt.
"You could've kept playing" you grumbled
"But I'd rather lay with you" he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Especially since you can't even seem to sleep without me" he adds teasingly knowing you'd roll your eyes if they were open. He finds your noises of protest adorable and shifts deeper into his pillow to get comfortable.
"Good night baby"
Mingi
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You got it, really. It wasn't your first rodeo.
Mingi was a hard worker, perfectionist in anything he did and being in a group only seemed to push that side of him out more. He wanted to make sure everything was prepared on time and to high standard, which was one of the things you admired about him.
You also admired it when all of his attention was on you. How he'd look at you with shining eyes as if you carried the universe on your shoulders. How his plump lips would shyly but surely pepper kisses over you face. Or how his voice would soothe you as he praised you every other sentence. Which unfortunately, was not on your agenda today.
It was kind of inevitable and you truly understand that he was tired. Him agreeing to watch a movie together even efter finishing tour rehearsals was a generous gesture. Even though exhausted, he invited you to the dorms (after convincing the other grumpy and tired members) to spend at least some time together. You were grateful for the initiative, but couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed when not even twenty minutes into the movie, snores escaped his slightly parted, plump lips. His arms that had been holding onto you, were now limp over your body.
Although the warmth of his body behind you on the living room couch was comforting, it was not enough to save the fact that the couch was hard and small. You weren't completely covered with a blanket and the weather had not shown mercy lately. Mingi's limp body also didn't allow you to turn at all so now you were stuck against him, back to chest as he snores. You shiver at the cool air in the room and try to focus on the movie still playing. Maybe the boring contents would make you fall asleep quicker.
You knew that him dozing off so easily like this truly meant he was exhausted and waking him up felt almost blasphemous. You felt shame in bothering a person so tired and so willing to still be with you.
"Can't sleep`?" you snap away from your thoughts as you barely catch the raspy voice mumbling in your ear. "You keep moving" Mingi yawns and lifts his limbs off you to allow your body to finally turn to face him. With an apologetic look on your face you turn, barely able to keep in a sound of endearment as you watch your sleepy boyfriend fighting to open his eyes to check on you.
"Sorry, baby" you whisper and reach out to stroke his flushed cheek, hoping he'd just go back to sleep because you'd feel horrible if he didn't. Mingi reached behind him to the back of the couch where a blanket had been folded over it and lazily unwraps the material to throw it over your bodies.
"Com'ere" he sighs and adjusts for you to lay your head on his chest, holding you safely and securely on the small space of the couch. "Need to make sure you get your beauty sleep" he mumbles and squeezes your body one last time before seemingly slipping off to sleep again, unable to fight it back this time. You smile to yourself and nuzzle closer to him, more comfortable and warm. His breathing calms you as you finally drift off.
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You’re Holy to Me
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria Warnings: Sexual themes; thigh riding; minor degradation; brat taming Summary: Daryl knows just how to make you behave. A/N: Thank you @thewalkingdilf for letting me use your idea. I hope I did it justice!
*gif is not mine
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“Are you done yet?” You were whining, knowing damn well how it grated on Daryl’s nerves when he was focused on something. Right now, that focus was his bike. You absolutely knew better, but carried on anyway. “Come on, Daryl!
The archer was on one knee, eyes narrowed in concentration. At the next mewl of his name, he dropped a wrench with a loud clatter. You had been attached to his hip— apparently in every way except the one you wanted —since leaving your shared room that morning. Not that he minded. It was nice to feel loved, to feel wanted. “Listen, sunshine, I got a lot to do, so why don’tcha go on home an’ bug Carol for a bit?”
“Carol can’t help me.” You pouted from directly behind him. Biting your lip, you drew your finger through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “Come on, I wanna play.” You huffed, pressing a foot against his leg to get his attention focused on you. 
In such close proximity, Daryl could practically smell your arousal and he shivered. “You’re bein’ awf’ly needy right now. Ya really should go to the house.” When you didn’t answer, he nearly turned to address you again but then he felt you pressing yourself against him. Knelt as he was, your center was against the back of his neck, warm through the fabric of your skirt. “Better stop now, Y/N. Ya don’t let me finish up here, I ain’t gonna let you finish for a while.”
“Daryl.” You whined, moving your hips side to side. “Are you still not done with your other girlfriend? I need you now.” Your fingertips found their way into his hair again, scratching and lightly tugging. “You know there’s a better place to stretch those fingers.”
He had just retrieved the wrench only to drop it again, this time reaching it to wrap his fingers around your wrist. With a growl, he stood, turning to loom over you in a way you would have found intimidating if you didn’t know him like the back of your hand. 
Oh boy, you were in for it now. 
“Why ya gotta be such a brat?” His tone held no heat, but there was a threat there; the type of threat that had a rush of arousal soaking through your panties. You blinked up at him with a coy smile. “Ya knew exactly whatcha was doin’, didn’tcha? Can’t go one day without that greedy lil’ pussy bein’ filled, can ya?”
“What on earth will you ever do with me?” Your smile remained and only fueled the lust burning through the archer. 
“I know exactly what m’gonna do with ya.”
His eyes narrowed and you gulped at the same time as your cunt clenched around nothing. His large hands gripped your hips tightly, just enough for the slightest amount of pain. When he walked into you, you began to back up, allowing him to lead you to wherever it was he wanted you. 
Sliding an arm around your waist, he leaned to swiped the other across his workbench, the tools and parts crashing and clattering on the hard floor. Hopefully Aaron didn’t come running to check things out because your panties were already being dragged down your legs. 
Biting your bottom lip, you slipped your feet from your sandals and stepped out of your underwear, watching with warm cheeks as Daryl lifted them to dangle between you. The center was darkened, drenched with your slick. Those electric blue eyes slid over to you while he twirled the garment in the air with his index finger. 
“Messy girl. C’mon then.” He let your panties fall and reached for your hips again, a squeak leaving your lips as he pushed you down onto his left thigh. “Wanna cum so bad, go ahead.” He smirked when your head tilted. He wanted you to ride his thigh? 
Daryl was patiently waiting you out, his grip firm but not guiding. You let your hips roll experimentally, watching him for affirmation. All you received was an arched brow. 
“But, Daryl—”
“But nothin’. You wanna cum, make it happen.”
You huffed, pouting. Maybe if you did as he asked, he’d fuck you until you saw stars. With that motivation in mind, you ground yourself down and thrust your hips forward, the rough denim grazing your clit just enough to make you jolt. It was easy to find a rhythm after that. 
“Atta girl. Gotta work for it.” He never moved, his leg steady and grip solid. You had to admit, it felt good. You likely couldn’t cum like that but it was a nice way to kickstart that fire low in your belly. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He cooed at you, chuckling when you whined in reply. “Feel good?”
“Uh huh.” You reached forward for those broad shoulders, holding tightly to help you balance when your thighs began to burn. You could feel the dampness you were leaving smeared over his jeans, the slick lessening the friction you so desperately needed. “Daryl.” 
“Nope. Can’t help ya, sunshine. Gotta learn your lesson. Them’s the rules.”
“But—but you’re gonna fuck me, right?” You didn’t stop grinding, your hands coming down to rest over his, silently pleading with him to take pity on you and help. When he stayed silent, you mewled and jutted out your bottom lip. “Right?”
“Ain’t nothin’ goin’ in that pretty pussy tonight.” The whine you responded with made his cock twitch but he resisted.
You were teetering on the edge, desperately alternating between bouncing and grinding, searching for that angle that would bring you relief. It felt so so good but left you a whimpering, blubbering mess. Maybe if you touched yourself, you could coax your orgasm to the surface. 
Your fingers barely brushed the tuft of hair above your slit before his hand left your hip to slap it away. Daryl tutted. “Nuh uh.”
“Oh, god, Daryl. I’m so close. I just need—”
“Ya should’a thought ‘bout that ‘fore ya acted out.” He held you steady, fingers digging into your flesh. Watching you work to bring yourself to climax had him straining against his pants. He wanted nothing more than to bend you over his bike and pound into you until you were screaming loud enough to worry the couple inside. But he wouldn’t. 
“Please, fuck! Please, Daryl!” Sweat was dampening your shirt, your breasts bouncing, nipples hard against the fabric. Dirty girl, you hadn’t worn a bra. Just for him. 
“C’mon, girl. That’s it. Look atcha, gettin’ yourself off on my thigh. Go on, make yourself cum. Ya don’t need me, right?”
“I need you. I need you, please!” You threw back your head, bringing up your hands to squeeze your breasts, pinch your sensitive nipples. Trying anything and everything to reach that precipice. Thankful he allowed you at least that stimulation. 
“So, so pretty like this. Ya’d like for me to fuck ya right now, wouldn’cha?”
“Yes! Fuck me, please!” Your hips were moving erratically, warmth and wetness seeping through the thick fabric to his skin. He was extremely close to giving you what you wanted. 
“Nope. Just look too good like this.” Each sound, each ah ah ah was driving him crazy but he just didn’t have it in him to stop you. You were a vision. Your hair falling around your face, damp strands sticking to your neck. Tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. Your plump lips open with the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard spilling past them. If he wasn’t careful, he’d cum in his jeans just watching you. 
There was a drawn out moan that broke off into a whine. Your hands dropped to Daryl’s forearms, nails biting into his skin while his fingers continued to hold firm to your hips. 
“I can’t, Daryl! I can’t!”
“Yeah, ya can.” You rutted against him hard and fast, finally finally feeling that dam within you beginning to break. Gritting your teeth, you rode him hard, actually managing to rock him against the bench. “C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me.”
The coil within you snapped, pulses of pleasure driving hard straight down to your throbbing clit. The wanton moan of the archer’s name ended with a shout, strong hands grounding you as you writhed and shook, soaking his thigh with your essence. 
You came down slowly, hips still jerking sporadically from the overstimulation of being pressed against his leg. At your content hum, he released you and let you fall forward against him. 
“Gonna let me work in peace now?” He chuckled when you had to force yourself to lean back far enough to blink at him with heavy lidded eyes. 
“Mhm.” With the laziest of smiles, you stood, covering your mouth when your movement revealed the mess on his jeans. “I should go get you another pair. You can change out here and I can take those—”
“What makes ya think we’re done here?”
Your mouth snapped shut, brows raising. Daryl stood and guided you to sit on the workbench with gentle fingers on your biceps. You didn’t have a chance to question him before he started working at his belt. It was then you noticed the prominent bulge in his jeans. 
“Gotta teach that mouth a lesson too.”
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bunnyreaper · 11 months
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𝓷𝓸𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸 𝒶 𝒿𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓅𝓉 𝟣 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓉 3 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒
wc - 5.8k warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), mentions of cheating (not from reader or john), older male younger female, future daddy kink, mildly threatening behaviour notes - were going somewhere (hornytown) but not quiiiite yet. i still think there's lots to enjoy here though!! hope you do like reading!! also on ao3! ♥
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"I've got you, everything's going to be okay." He whispers, over and over and over again, chanting it like a prayer.
You let yourself go a little limp in John's embrace, let the feeling of his comforting words and close touch wash over you—for a moment, everything feels right, the rest of the world falls away.
When John pulls away, a literal and metaphorical cold sweeps in, reality tipping over you like a bucket of ice. His hands still settle on your shoulders, but it's simply not enough to fight back against the shivers overtaking your body. The panic starts to kick in again, your chest tightening in response to the ice in your veins. 
John stays stooped close to you, his face inches away from yours as concern radiates from him—you stare up at him glassy-eyed, looking at him for comfort, answers, something. 
"Tell me what you need, love. Anything." His voice is so low, almost desperate to help and to fix things.  
You struggle to think, struggle to summon anything—your mouth opens and closes, your lips trembling every time you try to speak. 
What you want most right now is to fall back into John's arms, to feel that fleeting moment of peace you had just moments ago. What you need is to get away from this place that you've called home for so long, where you feel like the picture-covered walls are closing in—years of memories about to crush you. 
Your eyes screw shut as you force yourself to breathe, to focus only on John's reassuring touch and what comes next. "I need to get out of here." 
As soon as you finish speaking, he springs into action, a hand slips to your back as he guides you up the stairs, one step behind you. "Pack a bag, you can stay in my guest room until you get things figured out." 
You pause mid-step, frozen on the stairs at the weight of John's offer. He'd do that? Have you in his home? "I can't ask you to do that..." 
"You're not asking, I'm offering." He answers tersely, and you can feel him stiffen as he looms behind you, can feel the hand on your back grip ever so slightly. "He's my blood, my fuck-up. I should fix this." 
There's a conviction to John's words, heavy and resolute, quietly angry through and through—it's more passion than you've seen in an age, and he has no real reason. 
He taps you lightly, urging you on, and your body complies without question as you climb the rest of the stairs and lead the way to the bedroom. 
When you pass over the threshold, you freeze—taking in the bed that you'll never sleep in again, the room that isn't really yours any longer. 
It's freeing and paralysing in equal measure. 
John isn't frozen by the same fear, able to fearlessly lead the way as he searches for a bag or suitcase to pile some of your belongings in. "C'mon, get what you need. I can always come back for more, yeah?" 
"Or even if you just stay for the night until you can find a friend to stay with." His voice is soft as he tries to anticipate your needs and cater to your changing circumstances. 
He finds a small suitcase under the bed, pulls it out, and sets it on the mattress as he waits for you to move. 
"Thank you." You nod mindlessly, coming to life again. The two of you work in tandem—you recover items from various drawers and hangers and dump them on the bed, and John works on folding and organisation. Each item is carefully and strategically packed, as his experience demands, ensuring you can bring with you everything you desire. 
Your priority is to grab everything important—ID, keepsakes, underwear. Perhaps you should feel some sort of shame or embarrassment when John starts packing away your panties without a word, but right now you can't find it within you to properly care. 
The little frilly pieces look extra delicate in his hands, and despite his toughened hands, he handles them with complete care. 
You practically empty your entire pyjama drawer onto the bed (or, onto John), anticipating a week on the couch doing sweet fuck all. After all, if you can't indulge and refuse to leave the house after a break-up, then when can you? 
Though on second thought, perhaps John wouldn't be too pleased if you took up residence on his couch and refused to leave—his hospitality surely only extends so far, despite being the nicest man ever. 
The two of you continue in dead silence, only broken by the occasional muttering to yourself as you think through everything you might need for the next few days.
It's John who speaks first, pausing midway through folding one of your oversized jumpers. "How did you find out?"
You meet his eye and see the emotion swirling within. It's clear he's hurting too, but wants to find out more as delicately as he can. 
"Some account sent me pictures and videos, it's definitely him." 
John's nostrils flare, his hands fisting in the fabric as anger washes over him. "He better hope I've had time to calm down before I see him again." 
"It's not worth making a fuss over John. I'm not—" You pause before you say that you're not worth it, clearly James doesn't think you're worth much at all. The idea of causing issues for James and John's relationship makes you cringe—because, unlike James, you actually give a shit as to how your actions affect others. 
"—I don't mean to come between you two." The words you settle on represent a solemn wish. Though, far more than that, a part of you hopes this doesn't come between you and John—that is something you hope for more intently.
After the last few years of knowing him, he's become someone you can truly depend upon. 
"He's the one who did this, not you," John states in a way that's clear and leaves no room for argument. "I've got you. You can count on me." 
His words soothe the deep sense of panic within you—after all, right now you're in desperate need of someone you can trust wholeheartedly.
With James, there was always this undercurrent of distrust. It was something you blamed on your anxiety and a belief he reinforced time and time again. 
With John, you feel none of the discontent—perhaps because you aren't as invested, or perhaps because John has never given you any reason to doubt him.
Here he is, in your moment of need,
telling you the words he knows you need to hear most right now.
You come back to yourself, hastily zipping up the bag in front of you and trying your best to give John a warm smile. 
"Let's get you home." John returns the smile with a firm nod, grabbing the bag immediately and throwing it over his shoulder. He waits for you to move first, holding his hand out in preparation for it to fall to the small of your back once more. 
The room already looks emptier, and honestly a little ransacked—not your problem any more.
Taking a deep breath, you turn on your heel and fall into step beside John, relishing the warmth of him beside you.
"Oh." John pauses, bending down to pick up a cardigan from the floor, almost hidden beneath the duvet hanging over the edge of the bed. "Can't forget this, yeah?" 
You take the cream knit from him, shrugging it on and wrapping it around yourself. 
With everything packed for your emergency getaway, you head back down the stairs and grab your phone and keys. It's only when John closes the truck door after you've climbed inside that you finally feel like you can breathe. 
Granted, your breaths are still a little shaky and uneven, but being out of the house makes you feel great relief. 
John climbs into the driver's seat of his truck, immediately throwing the keys in the ignition. The radio comes to life along with the engine, Costello playing—loud enough to hear yet quiet enough to ignore.
"Thank you, John." You whisper, a little uncertain of how to express the depth of your gratitude. "I've always... you've always been so nice to me." 
"Nothing less than you deserve," John states, his tone a little bitter as he begins to drive. "Shame my fucking son couldn't see that." 
The older man's venom takes you by surprise. You're not shocked that John is ashamed of his son's actions, but the fact he is here, unapologetically caring for you while condemning his son? You suppose, when you think about it, a pattern is emerging.
In the past, when James has wronged you, John hadn't pried or pressured you to discuss it at length—he simply laid down the law and then spent time distracting you or making you feel whole again. 
"You're really angry with him." You note besides, unused to seeing such unbridled emotion from the usually calm and in-control captain.
"I'd never condone cheating." His jaw clenches and the way he shifts gears is a little stiff. "But to do that to you? Unforgivable, darling. You've done nothing but run up the boy's arse since the day I met you." 
"Yeah, well, I thought we loved each other." You shrug, feeling only slightly pathetic about it all. "I thought I was just insecure, reading into things too much, and he made me feel that way too..."
John glances at you, eyes full of shock and pity, before he turns his attention back to the road. "Fuckin' hell."
"Look, you can stay with me as long as you like, I mean it." 
"I feel like a burden." You reply, not missing a beat.
John releases a sigh, preparing himself for battle. "If anything you're doing me a favour, can look after the place when I'm gone, yeah?" 
"I suppose." You relent immediately, not having any fight left in you. "Will you be leaving soon?" 
The thought makes you feel more unsettled than it should.
"Hopefully not for a little while." John flashes you a smile, his eyes kind and warm, "I'll make sure everything's sorted before I go anywhere, don't worry." 
"I'm sorry." 
"Nothing to apologise for, love." He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he meets your gaze. 
The two of you fall into silence for the rest of the drive, accompanied by the easy-listening tracks from John's CD as you make your way across the city. 
When you pull up on John's driveway, he's out of the car and opening your door before you can say anything, shouldering your bag and unlocking the front door to the house.
Once inside, you toe off your shoes, setting them onto the shoe rack that keeps all of John's boots neatly organised.
The house smells the same as it always does—smokey and wooden. Just familiar enough to feel homey, just foreign enough to still draw in your senses.
"Shall I show you to your room?" John asks—a gracious host despite the numerous times you've visited and stayed over. 
You nod, shoulders already sagging at the idea of falling into the expensive guest mattress. "Please, I kind of just want to collapse into bed right now." 
John chuckles as he leads the way up the stairs. "You're more than welcome to." 
The bed is already made as if waiting for your arrival, sans the towels John usually prepares when he knows you're coming over. He sets your bag down on the armchair sitting in the corner, before turning to leave you in peace. "Anything you need, I'll be downstairs." 
You reach out to him, hand settling on his broad forearm as you hold him still for just a moment, meeting his eyes with a sincere look of gratitude. God knows how the night would've turned out without his accidental intervention, but here in his home, you feel as safe and relaxed as you can in this moment. "Thank you, John."
He leans into your touch, mouth settling on the top of your head as he presses a barely there kiss, and then mumbles his words into your scalp. "Don't mention it, darling." 
A second later the door is quietly clicking shut behind him, leaving you alone in the guest bedroom with nothing but your thoughts. Thoughts you'd really rather be without right now, so you rush to change out of your clothes and into some pyjamas and throw yourself into bed.
Exhaustion overwhelms you the second your eyes flutter shut.
—- 
When you wake, bleary-eyed and achy-chested, it's completely dark outside—the yellow moon obscured by a layer of mist. 
You rub at your eyes and attempt to wet your mouth, which is bone dry from fitful sleep filled with nightmares. The entire night you were trapped in a hall of mirrors, each one cracked and smashed and showing monstrous reflections that looked nothing like yourself. 
It was all just a nightmare, and it's over now—all of it. 
Peeling back the covers, you climb out of bed and head downstairs to fetch a glass of water—nothing you haven't done numerous times before when you and James had spent the night here after he and John had one too many beers watching the football. 
You know exactly which of John's creaky stairs to skip to avoid making too much of a noise, know the small night light at the bottom of the stairs will brighten as you approach. 
When you make it downstairs, a floor lamp in the living room floods the space with an amber glow as warm reverberated music drifts to your ears. The soft light highlights John as he puffs away at a cigar, surrounding him in thick, billowing clouds. You're unsure of the time, but you are familiar enough with John to know his late-night-turned-early morning proclivity for music and nicotine. 
You take a moment to just watch him looking so peaceful, a moment where his guard is almost entirely down, and he's just John. Not a father or a soldier, but just a man—it's a rare treat and a side you don't often get to see. 
His eyes are glazed over, fixated on a spot on the wall as he's undoubtedly lost in his thoughts, weighed by his burdens and memories. 
Your eyes linger on his beard, no longer sporting his signature style as the mission has kept him from the upkeep, and that is something you've never seen before. It's charming how handsome he looks, not that he ever wasn't, but his good looks are easier to notice when he looks like this—for a moment he's not James' dad at all. He's all man, and you'd be lying if you said you'd never noticed him before, noticed how attractive he is. Admittedly, you've got very good at hiding your inappropriate, likely misplaced crush on the man. 
But now, as you gaze upon him with his lips wrapped around his cigar and his thick thighs lazily spread, you can dip into your unrestrained thoughts and—
"'s rude to stare, love." He says, his eyes shifting to meet yours. In the dark, his usual shining blue is missing, replaced by dark pools of simmering emotion. A moment later, a half-hearted smile catches up with him, as he seems to pull himself from his sombre mood upon seeing you.
"Didn't know you were awake." You shrug, stepping out into the living room and wrapping your arms around yourself protectively—feeling a little bare in your pyjama top and shorts. "I was gonna grab some water." 
"I'll get that for you, sit down." 
He's rising from his seat before you can protest, the cigar still hanging from his lips as he makes his way to the kitchen. You take a seat on the long couch, not quite relaxing into the worn leather. 
John returns a few moments later, passing the glass to you with a tight smile. 
"Thanks." 
He takes his seat back in his armchair, puffing away at his cigar, his eyes now fixed on you. It's almost like he's looking through you, rather than at you, his mind swirling with a million different thoughts.
Finally, you soothe your dry mouth with quick sips of the water and find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from John. 
Now you've noticed him, you feel like you can't stop. It must just be the heartache, the loneliness, and the impending upheaval of your life. 
He meets your stare, looking right back at you for every second your eyes linger upon him. Until you force yourself to look at anything but him. 
Whether he catches onto your shift in mood or is just genuinely interested, you don't know—but he asks after you anyway. "How are you feeling?" 
You let out a defeated sigh, taking stock of your emotions. Right now you're filled with a swirl of confusion and clarity. Some things make more sense than ever, but there's a lot still to figure out.
"Honestly? Betrayed and hurting... but lighter, in a sense. As if I'm glad it's all over?" Your voice wavers a little with uncertainty, as by rights, you should probably feel worse than you do.
John nods understandingly before taking a harsh puff, his eyes hardening. "I should've spoken up sooner." 
It feels like the world drops out from beneath you. Does that mean...?
"You knew?" You whisper shakily, not prepared to handle another betrayal. 
"No, love. I couldn't do that to you—" He rushes to correct himself, his expression softening as he tries to soothe you. "—but I had my suspicions." 
Relief floods you, knowing John didn't sit idly by and partake in the whole affair. If he had known and not said anything, that almost would've hurt just as much as the act itself. Instead, you feel validated, knowing you weren't the only one suspicious of James. After so long of being doubted, it's liberating to have your concerns reaffirmed.
"From the last time you visited?" You ask, wondering if he caught the telltale signs then too.  
"Yes." 
"Makes sense, he was with her that night. A lot of things make sense now, looking back." You take a long sip of your water, trying to not let the emotion inside overwhelm you. "I'm glad I don't have to live with the worry any more." 
"I am too, sweetheart." In his eyes, you see an undeniable genuineness, an underlying fondness.
John takes a deep drag of smoke before blowing it around himself, when he speaks, his tone is more gravelled and gruff. "I've tried talking some sense into him before about the way he treated you, but—" 
"He doesn't really listen to anyone else." 
"Hmm." 
The shared frustration hangs in the air as the smoke does, as well as a realisation for yourself that there is nothing now really tying you and John together—it makes your heart hurt more than it should.
"You should get some more rest." John says, interrupting the impending spiral of your thoughts.
He cares for you, genuinely. But you know he's not yours to keep. 
You set your glass down on the table before rubbing at your eyes, uncaring of the way your mascara is likely smudging even further across your cheeks.
"You're right, but I know it's not gonna come easily." You sigh, before peering over your hands to narrow your eyes at the man sitting across from you. "Hey, you're awake too, you can't lecture me."
He barks a laugh, smoke sputtering around him as he withdraws his cigar, holding it between his finger and thumb as he stares you down—a severe look in his eyes and a smile playing at his lips. "Don't make me use my Captain voice on you."  
You can't help but roll your eyes at that, and are almost tempted to urge him to try.
John's phone lights up from the coffee table, drawing your attention. 
"Fuck, I bet I have so many missed calls and texts." You shiver just thinking about James' response when he finally drags his arse home and realises you're gone. Will he even care?
You certainly know he'll care when he finds out John has offered you a place to stay, when he sees his father treating you with the kindness he struggled to ever afford you himself. "I don't know if I should tell him where I am." 
John shakes his head, humming in the negative before giving his gentle command. "Tomorrow, love, you'll need your strength to deal with all this." 
"Always so wise." You smile lightly, appreciating his insight just as you always do.
The two of you meet eyes, as he exhales a lung of smoke that comes drifting in your direction. "With age comes wisdom..." He smirks, and you instantly rise to your feet.
"I'm leaving before I age ten years just from sitting next to you." Or, god forbid, letting any inappropriate thoughts seep in at the idea of his words. "Goodnight, John." 
You give him your best smile before heading back to the stairs, not missing his sweet response. 
"Goodnight, darling girl."
——— 
James (13 Missed Calls)
Where the fuck are you? 
Why is your shit gone??
Pick up the fucking phone. 
Thankfully you'd had the good sense to turn off your phone through the night, but the notifications and the harsh light of the screen burn your eyes come morning time.
You don't even bother flicking through the rest of the texts, as you resolve to address them later, after breakfast and more importantly, a discussion with John. There's a message or two from work colleagues that also go ignored for now—them checking in on you and making sure you're okay. 
While you appreciate the gesture, you really don't want to address it right now—instead, you opt for scrolling away mindlessly, waiting for the motivation to get up and face the day to finally strike. 
Instead, the day finds you, in the form of raucous shouting and doors slamming from downstairs—James roaring at John demanding answers, John trying to defuse the situation. 
Fuck. He's here. 
You tiptoe your way onto the landing, whole body on high alert as you listen in to the two men's argument. 
"Let me past, John." James sounds beyond impatient as his way upstairs is clearly blocked.
"If you think you're going anywhere near that poor girl, you're sorely fucking mistaken." The threatening undertone to John's voice is downright unsettling, even to you.
"She's my girlfriend, and this is none of your fucking business." 
"You're my son, and you're acting like a complete prick." 
"Your son, come the fuck on." James scoffs. "Move out of the way." 
"Wouldn't try that if I were you." 
"Oh yeah?"
The sound of a scuffle forces you to move, running to the stairs and stopping halfway when you get closer to the men. James is trying to push past John, but is met by an impassable wall of muscle and protective determination.
The expression on James' face sickens you, one you've not seen before, and especially not directed at you or John.
"James." 
His eyes snap to you, the lividity within unwavering. "What the fuck are you doing here?" 
A voice in your head tells you to cower in fear, to appease him just as you have so many times before—but this time you know things have to be different. Your eyes flicker to John's, his look softening as he catches your gaze, despite using his body as a shield to hold James back. 
John thinks you're worth it. John thinks you're worth jeopardising his relationship with his son over the way James has acted this time. 
It's not that you want to forgive James anyway, not that you want to keep him around—it's just the ice in your veins, the survival instinct calling on you to back down. 
But you can't, not this time.
"I know about Lucy." You force the words out before you can rethink them any further, standing firm. 
James' expression shifts, as he launches into an attempt to placate you, pacify you. "Babe, I don't know what you've heard but—" 
"Don't even try to explain it away, I don't wanna hear it." He won't let you doubt yourself again, and you make sure he hears it in the certainty in your voice. "I saw videos of the two of you." 
He laughs and shakes his head dismissively, his tone downright mocking as he speaks. "We need to talk about this." 
You fold your arms over your chest, confidence coursing through you. "I don't have anything to say, I'm not your girlfriend any more, and I'd appreciate it if you left." 
"Not before you listen to me." He growls, but you don't relent.
You look at James, through him even, a part of you disconnecting completely from the man before you. He's no longer the man you love, he's a loose end mere moments from being tied up—a weight you're about to relinquish. 
"I'll be back to continue packing my things, and we can talk about the rent and everything later." You even surprise yourself with the steadiness of your tone.
"Just let me explain—"
"No." You snarl, as James surges forward to try to grab you. 
Once more, he's stopped in his tracks, being pushed back and away to keep you from harm's reach. 
"Out, son, now." John's words are all growl, before changing to a more sinister stillness—the calmer threats from the man speak volumes more. "Or I'll make you leave." 
James at least has the sense to move away, but while he has no physicality to push back with, he resorts to taunting. "Always got to be the knight in shining armour, showing up when you're not even needed. Pathetic, John. Go back to your own life and leave mine alone, yeah?" He spits.
There's a beat of silence, an air of disbelief surrounding all of you before John snaps.
"I said, out." John pushes back on James chest once more, sending the younger man stumbling backwards toward the open door. 
At least now, he swallows his pride and leaves, but not before shooting you the most venomous look, one you know will haunt you. 
John practically slams the door behind his son, working the locks into place to ensure there's no possibility of a repeat performance. "Sorry about that, I shouldn't have opened the door." John sighs, hanging his head in failure. "I never expected—"
"It's fine." You sigh, genuinely believing it. "First step to it all really being... over." 
John says nothing, his chest heaving with each breath as he continues to look troubled and disappointed in himself. 
You make your way down the last few steps, meeting him at the door to settle your hand on his bicep—hoping the gesture to be soothing and grounding. "Thanks for having my back, for keeping me safe. 
"He's hurt you enough, and if he ever laid hands on you..." John's jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring as something bloody and violent passes over him. 
"I think he'd know he'd end up in a body bag in a foreign country." You laugh, attempting to lighten the mood. "Good job that it won't come to that."  
With one final deep breath, John straightens up, schooling himself into a stoic facade and pushing aside whatever rage is bubbling within him in a display of perfect discipline. "Sit down, love. I'll make us some tea." 
He heads into the kitchen, and you follow just a few paces behind—falling onto one of the stools at the kitchen island as John gets the kettle on. You watch him work in silence, thoughts ticking over about the display you've just witnessed, the events that had just transpired. 
You had looked at James and told him exactly how things were going to go, and for that, you were incredibly proud of yourself. 
"I suppose I should head back later and start properly packing my shit up. The sooner I get everything out of there, the better." You comment, trying to envision the logistics of everything to come.  
"I'll be there." John comments, pausing for a moment to meet your eye.
"I'm sure that will go down well." You smirk, mentally preparing yourself for another onslaught against you and John when you both show up at the house. His anger at you was expected, but the things he said to his father had seemingly come from nowhere. "I'm sorry about what he said to you." 
"Don't be." John shrugs, before setting two mugs on the counter with just a little too much force. "It's always been there, under the surface. Blames his mum too, as I'm sure you know." 
You watch his face, watch as he tries to keep his reactions in check—something he's very good at, and something you think you're getting better at seeing through. 
"Yeah." 
Is he reconsidering his decision to support you, now he knows the potential consequences that may come along with it? Is he truly hurting at what James said, or dismissing them as a by-product of the heightened emotions everyone was feeling? Right now you wish you could pick apart his thoughts, but everything right now feels so delicate, for both you and for him. 
John sets a steaming mug before you, then takes a seat beside you at the island. "Let me know whenever you're ready to get packed up, can ask the lads over to help too if need be." He half-smiles, a lightness in the dark. 
"I'm sure the two of us can handle it." You laugh lightly. "Not sure where I'll put all my stuff though."
"There's plenty of room here," John replies, before his voice softens. You stare at your tea as it warms your hands, but you can feel him looking right at you. "I meant everything I've said, and you can stay as long as you like. I also understand if it's too strange for you, I can help you figure something out." 
"It's not strange, not really." You meet his too-blue eyes and almost have to turn away from the emotion within. "Even so, I don't have anywhere else to go right now, to be honest. I'm sorry." 
"I'm happy to have you, truly."  He reaches out, settling a hand on yours, his skin even warmer than the steaming mug. "Brightening up the place." 
"Not sure I'm doing much of that right now." 
"You are."
You shrug, but relent under his insistent tone.  "Fair, if my bedhead and ratty pyjamas weren't a source of amusement I suppose I'd be disappointed." 
"Attagirl." His hand squeezes, lingers for a moment before withdrawing. 
You never realise how much you're missing until you feel John withdraw. 
"Can we... not go today?" The confidence you felt earlier wanes as the adrenaline continues to die down. "I'd rather go another day if that's okay." 
"I'm all yours, just give me the word." 
The blush on your face is entirely coincidental, and you force yourself to move past the moment swiftly. "Until then... Jeopardy marathon?" You ask, as you have so many times before.
"Jeopardy marathon." John nods, grabbing the mugs as you rush to the living room. "Been a while since we've done this." 
"Stop being so busy then." You grumble, flopping down on the couch with a pout. "Though I suppose the world isn't gonna save itself." 
"You overestimate me, love." John grins as he takes a seat at the end of the couch and hands you the remote.
You load up Netflix and pull up the series, picking up where the two of you left off months ago, and as the show starts, you wiggle to get comfortable. 
Almost absent-mindedly, John pulls your legs into his lap, freeing them from being curled up at his side and making you instantly more comfortable. He's always so considerate, and his hands settle respectfully on your shins as you both turn your attention to this episode's contestants. 
It's peaceful in a way you haven't felt in so long—getting to enjoy one of your favourite things with someone you care for. James almost hated trivia shows with a passion, where John had talked with you at length about your shared love for Only Connect.
"Why couldn't I have met you first?" You ask, mostly thinking aloud. 
John coughs, taken aback by your words that are laced with heavier meaning than you intended. "Pardon?" 
"I just mean... so I didn't have to feel so guilty about wanting to be your friend." Didn't have to feel so guilty about straining his relationship with his son.
"We've known each other as long as I've known the boy." He squeezes at your shins, rubbing ever so slightly as he does. "We're friends, love." 
You shrug, eyes flickering down to watch the way his hands trace over you, though not thinking too much of it. You're too trapped in your head, lamenting your lot in life that you had to suffer through James to find a friend in John, a friend you might still lose anyway. "He gets 'custody' of you though, really, since you're his father." 
John straightens up, his hands stilling. "Think he's made how he feels about me quite clear." 
"He'll regret saying that... I hope." You whisper, before turning your attention back to the TV. You don't know what to say to soothe John, and you strongly suspect it's not what he wants to speak about right now.
"Such is life, love. He'll regret stepping out on you." He returns. 
"Good." You laugh freely, feeling a moment of unrestrained joy. "Can I be honest? I don't think I'll regret having him gone, sorry."
John squeezes again, drawing your attention back to him as he shoots you an annoyed look. "Going to have to do something about all that apologising you do." 
"Sorry." You freeze, before giggling sweetly. "I mean... fuck. You'll just have to give me your most vicious captain look every time I do it." 
You joke, but John obliges, trying to look stern but failing as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Okay, you're wearing a quarter zip, and you look like a dad, I can't take you seriously." 
John chuckles, clutching at his heart as his look turns playful. "Threatening my pride, darling girl." 
You can't help the way your eyes roll back in your head. "Something tells me you'll be fine." You mutter, before the infectiousness of John seeps through to you. 
He looks upon you fondly, his warm gaze almost feeling like an embrace with its tenderness. "Nice to see a smile back on your face, bunny." 
"If I have to stop apologising, you have to stop calling me that." You say, unable to fight the blush creeping onto your face.
"No deal, love." He smirks, not looking away for a single second. "We both know you enjoy it far too much." 
822 notes · View notes
star-eyed-angels · 5 months
Text
Stray Kids Reaction | NSFW | Being Stray kids' Stress Toy (MAKNAE LINE)
The times you become Skz'z personal stress toy
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: What?! two updates in one week?!? Who am I?? Sorry for this taking forever, I was STRUGGLING with Maknae line. Like I knew what I wanted to write but the words truly would not come no matter what I tried. But it’s here it’s done and I really hope you enjoy!!
AGAIN THIS IS VAGUELY EDITED SO PLEASE BE KIND🥹
Warnings: free use (literally all of them), sub/dom dynamics, subspace, nicknames, teasing, creampie, orgasm denial, voyeurism, overstimulation, cock-warming, biting, mirror sex, filming, bondage, blow jobs, thigh job, handjobs (It's 4am I'm so tired and definitely missing something, please let me know if something needs to be added)
Read at your own discretion
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JISUNG
Han is another part of the insatiable line, another member who wouldn’t pass up on a chance to feel you wrapped around him. Jisung’s favorite thing is cockwarming. It’s like a game, he sits you pretty in his lap and neither of you gets to cum until he finishes his lyrics. To the others they think it’s torture, but to him it’s heaven, he gets to have you sit pretty on his cock and it forces him to finish his lyrics faster. At least that’s what he tells himself. 
He swears it’s only cockwarming, enough to help him focus on finishing his lyrics. 
“Come on baby, just until I finish this part! It’s the last one I’m working on,” he pleads, hands skimming along your sides while you stand between his legs.
Each time you roll your eyes, because as soon as he gets his dick anywhere near you all other thoughts go out the window. 
“You and I both know you won’t be able to wait that long,” you say for what feels like the millionth time. You think you’d know better than to trust his words by now. But with the way he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, how could you ever say no? 
You find yourself sinking onto him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the way his cock fills you. Jisung lets out a low moan as you settle yourself into his lap, his own eyes fluttering. You rest your head against his shoulder, arms loosely hanging around his neck. 
When you’re settled he’s quick to get to work, mumbling to himself as he peaks over your shoulder to write. You do your best not to think of the cock between your legs. But for as much as you tease Jisung for thinking with his dick, you’re no better. 
Thirty minutes pass before it starts to get to you. You can feel the subtle twitches his body gives whenever your breath tickles his neck. Jisung isn’t faring much better. You clench around him every so often. Your breath hitching with each subtle shift of his hips. Eventually you’re panting into his heck, hips subtly grinding into him. 
“Baby you’re making this harder for me,” he pants, hands resting on your hips to still you.
“Fuck the lyrics. Just fuck me already,” you beg pulling him into a rough kiss. He doesn’t hesitate, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he begins to rock into you like his life depends on it. The force of his thrusts jolt you against the desk, making you scramble to balance yourself before you slide off his lap. 
“Sungie be careful, you’re gonna break it again,” you say through dragged out moans. The computer chair squeaks in protest, springs undoubtedly being put to their limit. You can’t blame them, so are you. Your hands sit behind you to balance yourself against the desk, whining at the way Jisung drills his cock into you. 
“I’ll buy another one, I’ll buy as many as I need to keep fucking you like this,” he rushes out. His hold on you is firm as he fucks you in his lap. The way he’s gripping onto your sides, fingers digging into the flesh because he knows you’ll love the marks it leaves. He drags you over his cock again and again, using you as his personal fleshlight.
“Can’t get enough of this pussy shit, ride me baby, there you go. Fuck take it like it’s yours babe,” he moans out when you sit up suddenly, taking control of your movements. It’s like your body has a mind of its own, your hips slamming down onto him. 
Your thighs burn with every movement, but it feels far too good for you to care. Your hands rest behind his head, one hand gripping the back of his curly hair while your other steadies yourself on the back of his chair. 
“Ji- fuck! Baby please need it, needa cum!” you cry out, thankful for the fact that the entire studio is sound-proof.
“Yeah? I’ll make you cum baby. Come on, cum all over me so I can fill this fucking pussy,” He growls, hand reaching down to pinch at your clit. The feeling sends you head first into your orgasm. You fall against Jisung as you cum, still rocking yourself against him as you feel him shake through his own orgasm. He bites his lip as he cums, still managing to let a few swears slip through. He falls back in the chair as he comes down from his own high.
“Told you you wouldn’t last,” you pant against his shoulder. He huffs out a laugh, jostling you against his chest.
“Lasted longer than last time, that’s a win in my book baby,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You only roll your eyes.
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FELIX
Lix who makes you insatiable. You’re not quite sure how he does it. But one look from him and you’re teary eyed as you cling to him, begging for him to stay in you. It always starts with a quick text, telling you to meet him wherever he needs. No one bats an eye when you waltz in during practice, lix beckoning you over with a crook of his fingers. When you reach him, he’s pulling you into his lap, your bottoms already tossed to the floor. You’re not surprised when no one reacts at Felix’s moans as he fills you up.
“Sorry angel, just need to cum in you okay?,” he pants, hips already rutting up into you. You can only offer him a small hum, brain going a little foggy with him inside you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, tucking your face into the side of his neck as you feel the pleasure overtake you. 
“Promise I’ll be quick, angel,” he says, though he knows he’s lying. The thing with Felix is he knows what having his cock does to you. He knows he makes you desperate, mindless even. And he lives for it. The way you turn into a bunny in heat, Hips working desperately against his, though he’s not sure you even realize that you’re moving. Not with the way you stare up at him with a dazed look in your eyes. He can see the way all the thoughts float out of your head, all thoughts except fucking him that is. Hiccuping whimpers accompanying the sound of skin meeting skin.
“Five minutes, Lix,” Minho calls out from the other side of the practice room. You whine at Minho’s words, clenching around Felix, hands clinging onto him impossibly tighter. 
“How do you expect me to not stay in her all day when she’s clenching like that,” he grunts, hands gripping at your soft sides. You keen, your hips dragging along his in teasing circles. 
“Lixie,” you bat your eyelashes at him, mouth in a small pout. 
“Want me to stay in our cunt all day, sweetheart?” He says, hips lifting to meet yours.
“Yes, please Lixie. Please I’ll be good,” you beg, eyes sparkling with tears. How could he not give in to your pleas when you look at him like that?
Felix flips you onto your back, a soft gasp escaping you as he presses your legs to your chest, exposing your fluttering walls to him and everyone else in the room. He knows they’re watching, they always do when they get the chance.
“Greedy fucking girl, you just love being used don’t you?” he rasps, slipping back into you with ease. Felix sets an unrelenting pace, somehow hitting deeper inside you with this angle. 
“Yes! Love it!,” you cry out, face contorting into a blissed out expression. Your hands scrabble to hold onto something, settling on his arms as he holds you in place.
He smirks, glancing up to watch the way the members watch the scene in front of them. He lives for the way the members' eyes darken when they watch you. You’re far too gone to notice the way the members are staring holes into you. 
“You’re so far gone angel, you don’t even care that everyone is watching you, hmm?” he teases, tilting your face to watch the members. You whine, walls fluttering at the dark stares they all give you.
“Only care about getting this pretty cunt stuffed, doesn’t even matter where, either does it?”Felix coos, turning your attention back to him. 
“No, just need to be full all the time,” you slur, mind growing foggier by the second. Felix takes notice, picking up his pace easily. 
“I know angel, promise we’ll keep you full. Why don’t you cum for me, hmm? Show them how pretty you look when you make a mess, yeah?” he says, hand reaching down to rub at your clit. The pleasure is heightened with how sensitive you are. It doesn’t take long before you’re sent straight off the edge. You cum with a broken cry, tensing in his hold. Felix lets out an appreciative moan, filling you up with his own cum. You’re still shaking as you cum down from your high, letting Felix dote over you as if he didn’t just give you an earth shattering orgasm.
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SEUNGMIN
There’s only one way to describe Seungmin’s time with you: sweet torture. Seungmin’s a hard dom through and through. When he agreed to the arrangement of using you that when you’re with him it's all about him.
For instance the outfit you wear as you stroll into the company building. Skirt barely covering the tops of your thighs, top showing off your plush sides just enough for his hands to fit over them, even the platformed shoes he bought you as a gift just so you can be closer for him to leave marks against your shoulder.
Seungmin loves watching you walk into the practice room all dolled up for him. He’s quick to pull you over to him, hands grasping at anywhere he can get his hands on you. You’re just as desperate as you reach up, pressing yourself as close as you can get. 
It isn’t long before he has you writhing in his grasp. The songs he was memorizing are long forgotten as he presses against your backside. He makes you cross your legs over the other, hands braced against the piano as he uses just your thighs to get off.
“Minnie! You’re being mean!” you whine, still twisting your hips to have him slip inside you. 
He clicks his tongue, pinching your side as he angles your hips higher, his cock now deliberately hitting your clit with every stroke. You can only moan, face contorting at the sparks of pleasure that shoot through your core.
“No, you’re just being a greedy slut,” he grunts. Seungmin smirks, leaning down to drag his lips up to your ear.
“This isn’t about you. Let me have my fun and maybe I’ll be nice enough to cum in you, okay?” he says, hips continuing their unrelenting pace. 
You whine, hands twitching with the need to grip him, but the pleasure is already making it hard to keep yourself upright. You know the second you let go of the piano, your body will crumple to the floor. Instead you lean your body back into his chest, his name falling from your lips in a desperate mantra.
Seungmin isn’t handling this any better.  He’s thankful your back is facing him, that way he can hide the way his own face twists in pleasure. Seungmin’s mouth hangs open in a low moan, cock twitching at the feeling of your soft thighs hugging his cock. He can’t help but love the way you look falling apart in front of him. A stark contrast to how you pranced through the door, offering him a bright smile as if you didn’t know exactly where you’d end up. Clothes half pulled off, hands clutching at the top of the piano, no doubt ruining the sheet music he’d spent hours adding notes to. And it's all for him. All he has to do is send you a text, and you’re ready to be used by him. That thought alone is what pushes him over the edge.
“Fuck,” he mutters out, the only warning he can give you, unable to stop himself from cumming. You gasp at the feeling of warmth leaking against you, still partially delirious from the pleasure.
“Minnie!” you sob as you look down, watching his cum leak across your thighs, hitting the top of the piano. His hips still buck against you, hands keeping you firmly in place while he rides out his own high. 
“You said if I was good-” you cry, falling back against him again, core throbbing with the need to have him in you. 
“You were good, but I never said when I would cum in you pup,” he laughs against your neck. He finally pulls himself away from you, leaving you to balance on your legs that feel like they’ve turned to jello. You shiver glancing up at him with teary eyes as you struggle to regain your composure. He only grins at your pout, hand reaching up to smooth out your top.
“Maybe later. Now fix your clothes and let’s go.”
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JEONGIN
Innie, you’ve come to find out over the past few months is quite literally insatiable.
Jeongin for the most part doesn’t call on you for stress relief, and when he does it’s usually quickies in the form of handjobs or using your mouth right before he leaves for a shoot. But the first time you joined them on tour was something you’ll never forget. It was the night after their third show and he’d texted you to come to his hotel room. You’d found him sitting on his bed, towel lazily wrapped around his hips as he palmed himself. 
“Come here. Need you, now.” he calls out, flicking the wet hair out of his eyes. The way his sharp gaze watches you leaves no room for arguing. You stand in between his legs, ready to drop to your knees when he tugs you to him, manhandling you underneath him. You let out a quiet gasp as you look up at him with wide eyes. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, 
“What is it? Didn’t think I could be like Channie or Minho Hyung, hmm? His voice tickles your ear. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, his grin widens in response. His next words send shivers down your spine. 
“Trust me baby, I’m a lot worse."
The room is filled with the sound of Jeongin’s hips meeting your ass, but to be quite honest you can’t hear much of what’s going on around you. With your face pressed into the sheets, the only sound you can really hear is your muffled cries as Jeongin uses you. The robe belt Jeongin had woven around your wrists and ankles digs into your skin from the hogtie position he keeps you in. Your arms are tied behind your back, fists clenched at the small of your back. Your legs tremble with the need to close them, instead they’re forced to stay spread and bent at the knee. Your muscles ache from how long you’ve been held like this. 
You know you’ll be sore and bruised tomorrow morning, but with the way Jeongin thrusts into you can’t find it in you enough to care right now.
“Innie- fuck, Innie please,” you sob out, as he drives his cock into your sweet spot relentlessly. 
He grips the knot at the base of your hips, tugging on it until your front arches off the bed. 
“Go on, you can cum again. Just know I’m gonna keep fucking you until I’m done,” he says, his hips somehow driving into you harder.
The scream you let out is embarrassing. But the orgasm that rips through you has you shaking harder in Jeongin’s hold. Your walls spasming as you feel yourself gushing around Jeongin’s cock. You can feel the wetness that coats your inner thighs from you squirting. You’re still writhing in Jeongin’s hold. Little aftershocks make you cry into the sheets with each of Jeongin’s thrusts. He groans, hips slowing to a shallow grind as he watches you cum around him. He leans down, panting into your ear heavily. Despite the intense orgasm you just felt, you can’t help the way you twitch at his next words. 
“Look at that… I didn’t know you could squirt baby, how many times do you think I can make you do that for me before the sun comes up?” he asks, grinning at the way your body responds to him.
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Dividers by : @/cafekitsune
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ozzgin · 6 months
Note
Hye hey HEYY! (-^〇^-)
May I request Belphie (and whoever else if you want) w/ G/n s/O who's having a panic attack due to seeing their deadbeat good for nothing father during like a field trip to the part of hell deceased human souls are kept?
(Bonus points if they didn't know he was dead!)
Kay thanks byeee!!!! o(〃^▽^〃)o
Of course! I might keep it focused on the part where they help you navigate it, though, so as to not delve in matters too dark. I hope it's close to what you imagined!
Obey Me! Headcanons
Featuring Belphegor, Beelzebub and Mammon comforting Reader during a panic attack.
Content: gender neutral reader, fluff/angst, mental health topics
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Belphegor
Belphegor purses his lips and opens his eyes with an annoyed squint. Something has disturbed his peaceful sleep. He'd rested his head on your shoulder for extra comfort, yet now the surface underneath him is shifting in small, erratic jolts. He stands up and is about to stretch, when he notices your ragged breathing and pale face. He is now alert and tense, as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over him. "What's wrong?" He places a hand on your shoulder, scanning your expression.
He's quick to guess you're having a panic attack - for whatever reason unknown to him - so he reaches for his backpack and begins rummaging. He eventually pulls out a paper bag and guides you into holding it over your mouth and nose. In your daze, you can't focus on anything in particular, but you can hear his soft voice giving instructions and counting with you. A few more deep breaths, and you manage to recollect yourself. You glance up at the demon and thank him for the assistance. "Care to tell me what had you this bothered?" he inquires with a frown.
You hesitantly explain your source of misery. Belphie listens with closed eyes, and for a moment you wonder if he's fallen asleep again. "Hmmm", he hums after a moment of silence. "So that's what it was." You fumble to respond, unsure of his reaction. Is he bored? Irritated? Upset? He finally looks at you and smiles reassuringly. "I suppose I can't blame you for that. I would've done the same." With that, he lets out a yawn and throws an arm around your shoulders. "Maybe you could use some rest. Let's swap", he says as he pulls you against his chest.
"Oh, and sorry if the bag smelled strange. I dumped out Beel's lunch for it."
Beelzebub
Beel has wandered ahead, deeply entranced by the snacks piled up in his arms. "Oh, I forgot to ask if you want some, (Y/N)-" He turns back and finds you much farther behind than he'd expected, panting, with hands placed onto your knees for support. Are you sick? Did you eat something spoiled? He speeds in your direction with a frown.
Ah, you must be having a panic attack. What's there to do? Usually he'd ask Belphegor for advice, but now it's just the two of you and no one else around. Well, he obviously can't leave you in this state. Maybe one of the brothers can help. He drops his food nonchalantly and proceeds to lift you in his arms. "Let's see if we can find someone", he explains. Beel is surprisingly gentle in his hold. Your labored breaths begin to slow down, soothed by the warmth surrounding you. You exhale one final time, now fully relaxed.
You pat his chest to catch his attention and let him know that he doesn't have to worry, but he doesn't immediately release you back on ground. "You have to tell me what was wrong first." Stuttering awkwardly, you proceed to narrate the situation. Not only is it a sensitive topic, but you have to talk about it as you're being carried bridal style. Once you're finished, you look up sheepishly and notice his furrowed brows. "Have I upset you?", you question anxiously. "No, I'm just upset by what you told me. You really scared me back there, you know? I may not be as smart or insightful as the others, but you can still rely on me for these things..."
Mammon
"What's with that long face? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Mammon exclaims, pointing at your expression with an amused laugh. He's about to continue with the jokes, but your erratic breathing is a little too convincing to be a prank. "O-oi...are you okay?" He finally mumbles, taken aback.
Crap. You're clutching your chest and gasping for air. He scans the surrounding area, looking for Lucifer. He has no idea what's wrong or what he's supposed to do. "Hang on, I'll find-" the demon stumbles on his words, trying to come up with some sort of reassuring promise. There isn't anyone around. The sight of your sudden panic attack is tugging at his heart more than he'd care to admit. Without thinking, he pulls you in a deep embrace. He's a little shocked by his own gesture, but now is not the time to consider the implications. He gently strokes your hair in an attempt to soothe you. "Come on, (Y/N), try to snap out of it. I don't know what else to do. Please."
You eventually calm down enough to explain what caused your distress, concluding with an apology. You didn't mean to startle him like this. He stares ahead thoughtfully for a moment before pinching your nose between his fingers. "Dumbass. You could've told me beforehand. You're not alone now, are you? You have the one and only Mammon at your side!" He flashes you a proud smile. You can't help but chuckle at the very typical response. He suddenly realizes he's been holding you tight until now, so he steps back, visibly red and flustered. "A-anyways, we should find the others".
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izurou · 2 years
Text
“i mean i know ‘samu makes rice balls for a living now, but i’m sure he could do a wedding cake.”
rintarou has been in your ear for the past fifteen minutes, mumbling about whether or not osamu could pull off three whole tiers of cake while also making it taste good.
he really thinks it’s a no brainer, as if onigiri and wedding cake go hand in hand—if you know how to make one, surely the other is under your belt as well. he used to help his mom in the kitchen when he was a kid so, obviously he would know.
the only thing is—you’re not engaged, and you don’t plan to be anytime soon.
“rin, seriously?” you scoff, leaning back against the edge of the countertop.
you’re at his mom’s place for a little family dinner—something she loves to do every once in a while to catch up with her son. you’ve just finished your meal, and rintarou being the angel he is, offered to clean up—but not without your company, of course.
“what? it’d save us some money,” he says, diving a hand into the soapy water filling the sink.
“your grandma was just bugging us,” you hum—swirling the dark liquid in your glass around. “she knows we’re not ready for marriage.”
this was your very first time meeting her, and it’s safe to say you weren’t expecting such a loaded question mid meal. so, when are you two getting married? her words had the tips of rintarou’s ears turning pink, and made his sister howl like a dog, because the thought of someone liking her older brother enough to want to marry him was truly hilarious.
he kicked her shins under the table—a glimpse of the petty little boy you had always heard stories about. he did his best to get his grandmother off your backs as well, giving her a cliché answer—something along the lines of we’re both young, and just trying to focus on college right now.
he was in such a damn hurry to drop the subject—and now, he won’t shut up about it.
“okay, but,” he pauses, swiping a hand against the bottom of the sink to check for any stragglers. “he’s young and stupid now, there’s no way he knows how much a wedding cake costs. we can lowball him, get a good deal.”
“you think he’s that stupid?” you snort—having a little more faith in osamu than your boyfriend does.
“hope so,” he mutters, gesturing for you to toss him the hand towel sitting behind you. “he is related to atsumu, after all.”
“wow,” you gawk, “and you call yourself a friend.”
“i’m just looking out for us,” he shrugs, using the fabric to dry his hands. “bet ‘tsumu would do it for free if we asked right now.”
“he’s not going anywhere near our wedding cake,” you say, noting the way rintarou does a thorough wipe down of the counters—hm, so he does know how to clean. “not until it’s served on a plate for him to eat, at least.”
“good point,” he agrees, tossing his cloth over the tap and shuffling over to you. “but you have to admit, the guy’s pretty damn unstoppable when he puts his mind to something.”
“sure,” you hum, looping your arms around his neck and lacing your fingers together. “but you know rin, once you go pro, we won’t even have to worry about the cost of a wedding cake.”
“and if i don’t?” he asks—throwing the possibility out there. it’s something he’s thought about, but never voiced concern over.
“you will, trust me,” you say, pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet—a promise of your word. “but if for some reason you don’t, we’ll beg the twins for a family and friends discount.”
“deal,” he laughs, pulling you flush against him for a hug—and you think to yourself, that when you leave tonight, you’ll love him a little more than when you arrived—if it’s even possible.
you enjoy the moment briefly, until you hear a pair of feet padding in the other direction—someone was listening?
“mom! rintarou is talking about getting married!”
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seohwang · 1 year
Text
Bedroom mishaps. (Maknae line)
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An Ateez reaction to getting into an embarrassing/awkward situation while intimate
Genre: fluff, smut (nothing too explicit, though)
Word count: 6 155
Warnings: the slightest, tiniest hint of cnc/helplessness in San’s reaction, mature themes, embarrassing moments, and just awkwardness in general, lol
Dynamics: mostly sub!ateez-leaning or with no dynamics, except for mild dom!Jongho
A/N: This fic is the long-awaited second part to my Bedroom mishaps series! You can find the hyung line version here. Hope you enjoy!
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San
In his defense, it had been a long time since the two of you had had sex
And so, when San practically jumped you the second you both had a free evening to yourselves, you really couldn’t blame him
After all, if you were being honest, you really missed him too
But, as unfortunate as it was, you still had some important things to do after you got home (that didn’t include riding him into oblivion)
You know, things such as eating and resting for at least a little bit after a tiring 9-to-5
Which meant that you (but especially San) would have to wait just a bit longer
And while you were admittedly just as impatient as he was, you did not expect him to actually sit right next to you on the couch while you ate, patiently waiting for you to finish your food like some kind of needy puppy
You tried to keep your focus on the TV, watching the show on screen intently as you ignored your impatient boyfriend to the best of your abilities
Which was hard, considering how touchy he was in general, let alone right now after waiting for so long
And sure, it was a bit cute, you had to admit
Until the questions began
“So, are you almost done?” “San, I just started eating.”
“...And now?” “You can literally see the food that’s still in the bowl!”
This then went on for the rest of your meal, with only a few minutes of silence in-between whenever you gave him a quick peck as an attempt at distraction
But even with that, you could still see the giddiness in his eyes once you finally stood up from the couch, walking over to the sink to clean the dishes
With San in tow, of course
“You’re really something, you know that?” You asked in amused disbelief, turning to your boyfriend as he clung to you from behind with a coy smile
“Mm-hmm,” he wordlessly agreed, tightening his grip on your waist before moving to kiss your neck
“Can you really n-not wait until I’m finished here? Are you that needy already?” You asked abashedly, trying to keep your composure when he found a particularly sensitive spot
“If I say yes, will you finally let me take you to the bedroom?” He asked back, pressing your body even closer to his as his kisses grew more feverish
And who were you to deny him?
And so, you made your way over to the bedroom, with San leading the way this time, eagerly pulling you with him
He was surprised, however, when you quickly matched his enthusiasm the moment you landed on the bed, pulling him into a deep kiss before getting on top and taking over
It was as if a switch had flipped within you, finally properly getting into the right mood and leaving all of the stress of your daily life behind, with San now being the target of choice
Not that he was complaining, of course not
He was just taken a bit off-guard, that’s all
But even that surprise just seemed to rile him up more, pulling the sweetest noises out of him as your hands roamed his body
You could only chuckle at that, watching the previously eager and assertive man quickly crumble right before you into a desperate, deprived mess
It’s not like he could do much to hide it either, already way too sensitive to be able to suppress any of his reactions to your touches
You wouldn’t have it any other way though, thriving in every little (or not so little) noise he made as you worked him, grinding down on the bulge in his sweatpants
Unbeknownst to you, however, amidst all this, there was an ongoing conflict going on in San’s head, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowing as he held onto your hips tightly in a feeble attempt to ground himself
On one hand, he was feeling incredible, loving every single thing you were doing to him
From your fingers pulling at his hair and exploring his broad chest as you kissed him fervently, to the oh-so-amazing feeling of your hips moving against his
Everything you did was just the way San liked it, the way he’d needed it for so long
But that’s where the main problem resided as well
Because while all of this felt unbelievably good, it was starting to feel a bit too good too soon
And before San knew it, he was beginning to feel that familiar warmth in his stomach, alerting him of his high just a tad too late
“W-wait, Y-Y/N-!” He tried to warn you, but his words only came out a jumbled mess, half-muffled by your lips on his and half-muffled by his own inability to speak in his current state
But even if you were to understand him, you were still so focused on everything else that you just didn’t register him speaking altogether, grinding down on him even harder if anything
And it was seemingly that exact feeling of hopelessness, the feeling of not being able to stop the pleasure, that completely did it for San, finally snapping that coil within him as he came
With a pathetic cry of your name, he suddenly stilled, holding your hips tightly against his as he threw his head back
The sudden change was enough to bring you out of your own daze as well, watching your boyfriend shudder beneath you, breath hitching with every involuntary jerk of his hips as pleasure coursed through his body
Despite your surprise, you let him be for a few seconds, allowing him to slowly come down from his high
It was easy to tell when he was starting to return to himself, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks as his foggy mind finally realized what had happened
Refusing to open his eyes, he slid his hands up your back, gently pulling you down to lie on his chest as he hid his face in the crook of your neck
After a beat or two of complete silence, you finally dared to speak up in a slow, tentative voice
“Did you just...?” You trailed off, unsure if you wanted to make your boyfriend even shyer by saying it out loud
“Um...maybe?” He replied just as hesitantly, letting out a nervous chuckle as he tried to secretly peek at your face, “would you be mad if I said yes?”
Now it was your turn to laugh, pulling away to look at his embarrassed expression
“Sannie, baby,” you began, cupping his cheek softly as you spoke, “do you really think I’d be mad at you for something like this?” You asked back, moving your hand up to fix his hair gently
He pouted at that, giving you a small, guilty frown
“I mean...” He began, another wave of embarrassment flushing his face, “I was so eager to do this before, only to just, you know...”
“Cum in your pants after a few minutes?” You brazenly finished his sentence, eliciting a humiliated sound from him
“Y/N!” He groaned as he hid his face in his hands, mortified
You just giggled, moving to pry his hands away again, “come on, you know I’m just joking,” you said, trying to coax him to look at you
“Not only was it, like, really fucking hot,” you began again, earning a surprised yet curious look from San, “but you have the whole night to make it up to me, don’t you?”
Hearing this, you finally got a sweet, genuine smile from him as he looked up at you, feeling reassured at last, “you’re right.”
With his new-found confidence, his hands slowly trailed up to your face, pulling you down gently for yet another deep, passionate kiss
“That I do.”
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Mingi
It’s no secret that Mingi likes to joke and play around, especially around his family, friends, and you
But lately, as you’d come to notice pretty early on, the smile he wore around you didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore
Instead, his eyes screamed exhaustion, the same way his sluggish movements and sagged shoulders as he walked around your apartment did
You wanted to ask him about it, of course you did, but with the way Mingi was, always trying not to bother anyone too much, you knew it would be useless anyway
(unless you were to pressure him into it, which just sounded like the last thing you should be doing at this moment, so that was completely out of the question)
Besides, it wasn’t like the reason behind his tiredness was some government secret anyway
With the latest project at his job nearing its deadline, it was pretty obvious what the cause was
Every day, he’d already be gone when you’d wake up, and you were lucky if you got to spend more than 2 hours in the evening with him before he’d crash in your shared bed, out like a light
So really, if anything, it was surprising that Mingi was still able to hold up his usual front even under these current conditions
Well, except for one thing, that is
For the same reasons as stated above, not only was the social aspect of your relationship hurting, but so was the sexual one
Not that you were too upset about it, of course not
You knew that Mingi was just having a busier period at work right now, and you were perfectly content waiting until he’d feel more rested and comfortable
It was just that you could see it slowly start to affect him
He’d become more touchy with you, staying close whenever the two of you were alone together (and sometimes even when you weren’t - poor cashier at the nearby convenience store)
Even the way he looked at you every time you faced him told you he needed you
But of course, with Mingi being Mingi, he was both too tired and stressed to really do anything, and too unsure about initiating any deeper kind of intimacy with you when your time together was already so limited
And so, being the loving and attentive partner you are, you decided to take matters into your own hands (literally)
It was pretty late when Mingi came home, the cheerful chime of the front door being opened sounding long after it’d gone dark outside
You were sitting on the couch, already waiting for him to finally set your plan into motion
After a couple of slow, dragging footsteps, your boyfriend’s face finally came into view, making you smile
“Hey there,” you greeted softly, getting up from where you were seated to help him with the bag over his shoulder
“Hey,” he replied, giving you a tired smile as he let you take the bag from him, but not before pulling you in for a soft, affectionate kiss
As you momentarily parted ways for you to put his things away and for him to change, you called out to him from the other room: “How was work today?”
After a few moments of silence, he finally shuffled back over to the living room, only to see you already waiting for him with a suspiciously coy smile on your lips
“Good,” he mumbled, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “just the usual.”
You hummed in acknowledgment, thinking silently for a second before carefully walking over to him
You wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him with a playful spark in your eyes, “hm, that’s good to hear.”
“Yeah,” he replied in a slightly breathy voice, giving you a mildly curious look as he automatically hugged you back, “what about you?”
You grinned shyly at his question, happy that everything was going according to plan so far
“Also mostly fine - just a bit lonely, I guess. I really missed you, you know.”
Tightening your hold on him, you gently leaned into him, putting your left foot forward as a silent command for him to move back
He obliged immediately, though the confusion on his face was evident
After a couple steps backward, his legs hit the back of the couch, making him fall down onto the cushions
This time, it seemed that Mingi’s curiosity had reached its peak, as he looked up at your amused expression with big, unassuming eyes, “I- what exactly is going on right now?” He asked with a light chuckle
You let out a laugh of your own, ignoring his question as you sank down to your knees between his legs, eagerly reaching for the hem of his sweatpants
The sudden escalation obviously startled Mingi and his hands grabbed a hold of your own, stopping you before you could try to pull his pants down
“Y-Y/N, wha-what are you...?” He questioned, clearly surprised
But you just gave him another coy look, taking his hands and pulling them off his lap before grabbing at his pants again
“It’s okay, just let me take care of you, hm?”
This time, Mingi let you slide his pants down, breath hitching as you palmed him over his boxers
“I-I, uh, you don’t have to, it’s okay-”
Before he could say anything else, though, you swiftly rose back up to his face, placing a quick peck on his lips to effectively shut him up before going back down
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to,” you reassured him, making a deep blush rise to his cheeks at your genuine enthusiasm, 
“So let me.”
And let you, he did.
Before long, you had reduced Mingi to a moaning mess, more sensitive and needy than you’d ever seen him
One of his hands was gently cradling your cheek, the other coming up to shield his blushing face
You were having none of that, however, instantly coming to a halt and pulling off, drawing a frustrated whine from him
“Y/N, why,” he complained needily, slightly lifting his arm to peek down at you
You reached up to grab it, pulling it down to rest by his side instead
“That’s why,” you explained, giving him a cheeky grin, “now, if you want me to keep going, you better let me hear and see you, alright?”
“Ah, o-okay, I wi-” but before he could finish his sentence, you were right back on him again, making him interrupt his own words with a strained groan, eyes closing in bliss
Without any other obstacles in your way, you resumed your previous pace, looking up at Mingi with sultry eyes as you did so
Recovering from the short moment of overwhelming pleasure, Mingi opened his eyes again, looking down at you, only to be met with your hungry gaze already on him
Immediately, he looked away again, feeling his heart skip a beat at the intensity in your eyes
Now, don’t be mistaken - Mingi could be a very passionate, confident lover when he wanted to be, and even when he didn’t, he was still somewhat composed most of the time
But now, after what felt like an eternity of not being able to experience you, hold you and take care of each other in whichever way you wanted, to suddenly seeing you so enthusiastic and focused on him in such a compromising position was, well...
Really fucking hot
And with the oversensitivity from not being touched by you for so long, Mingi could feel himself getting dangerously near the edge in no time
“Y-Y/N, you’re too good to me, I think I-” a hiss escaped him as your nails dug into his bare thigh, slowly but firmly dragging down his leg
“It’s okay hun, just cum whenever,” you said, still looking up at him to gauge his beautiful reactions
And although the hot lines you left on his thigh were comfortingly grounding, Mingi’s mind still felt like complete mush
With the past few weeks filled with nothing but work, work, and more work, the countless days running on 5 hours of sleep if he was lucky, with barely seeing you for more than a few hours a day,
Only to now be completely engulfed in your care and attention, to have you treat him so well and make him feel so much at once, physically, mentally, and emotionally,
Mingi felt like he was becoming delirious
As he was approaching his high, his hazy eyes were flitting around the room, brain completely fogged over as he could barely focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure
And then he felt your hand on his other thigh, felt your nails slowly start to press into the muscle again, and he lost it
Suddenly tensing under you, Mingi’s mind seemed to have completely blacked out as he came, feeling the waves of pleasure wash over him as he moaned out your name
Or what he thought was your name, at least, until he finally registered the sounds of you giggling, forcing him to open his eyes again
You were looking down, forehead dropping to rest on his leg as you trembled with laughter
“W-what?” He asked, words still a bit slurred and airy as he barely started coming down from his orgasm
The question seemed to make you laugh even more, much to Mingi’s amused confusion
“Am I- god,” you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down enough to talk, “is my name LG now?”
“What?”
Mingi looked down at you incredulously, not understanding what the fuck you just said
Did he just cum so hard he went insane?? Because he definitely felt like it
“I- n-no? What are you-”
It was only then that Mingi’s eyes seemed to have focused properly again, as he suddenly took notice of the LG television behind you, the big bold letters standing out against the otherwise black plastic
“Why did you moan out the name of our TV then?” You asked him, breaking into another fit of laughter as it all finally clicked in his head, mouth hanging open in shock as he looked at you
“Did- did I actually...?” He muttered, looking absolutely bewildered by his own actions
Trying to suppress any more giggles, you nodded with a small “yup”, grinning as you stood back up to help him re-dress
“Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” he immediately began apologizing, letting out an amazed chuckle of his own, “I knew I was a tired mess today, but not this much, damn.”
You just laughed again, moving to sit beside him and wrap your arms around his middle
“It’s fine babe, don’t worry about it. If anything, I can now proudly say I give head so good it makes you accidentally endorse electronics.”
As expected, your teasing remark worked just as intended, pulling a humiliated cry from Mingi as he hid his face in his hands
“Y/N, please!”
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Wooyoung
“Fucking finally”, Wooyoung muttered to himself half-annoyed, half-excited as the front door slammed shut at last, signaling that his roommate had left after what had felt like an eternity
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his impatience, though, if you were being honest, you were feeling pretty restless as well at this point
Wooyoung had been planning this night for more than a week, making sure that everything lined up perfectly - you were free for the evening, he was free for the evening, and, most importantly, his roommate would be out for at least a few hours
It all seemed to be working out just fine when you arrived too, joining Wooyoung under the cozy blankets he’d laid out for you on the couch and choosing a movie to play in the background as you talked about your days
The both of you were content like this, happy to indulge in each other’s comforting presence and catch up with each other (so you could have more time to do other things later-)
But as the hours slowly went by and Wooyoung’s roommate was still sitting at the kitchen table, not getting ready to leave any time soon as he kept typing away on his laptop, Wooyoung was starting to become impatient
He wanted to say something to him, to hopefully speed things up just a little, but how do you do that without sounding like a desperate, horny teenager?
Exactly, you can’t
And so the two of you kept waiting, watching the TV absent-mindedly as you started to draw slow, teasing shapes on Wooyoung’s leg to try and rile him up even further
This clearly seemed to work, judging by the way his jaw clenched every time your nails traced the insides of his thigh, desperately trying to keep his eyes on the screen and not jump your bones right then and there
Wooyoung was trying to keep calm, he really was
But with each passing second of your playful teasing, he could feel himself slowly going insane
That was until a sudden ringing echoed around the dorm, making both of you jump a little in your spot
You turned around to look in the kitchen, watching as Jongho, Wooyoung’s aforementioned roommate, fumbled with the phone in his hands, quickly swiping on the display to answer
“Hey, what’s-” he began but got quickly cut off by the person on the other side, their annoyed nagging loud enough for you to hear from the other room
“W-wait, what do you mean? It’s-” Jongho’s eyes suddenly widened, seemingly realizing something just then
He quickly stood up, slamming his laptop shut as he rushed back into his room, cursing under his breath the whole way there
“Dude, I’m so sorry, I just got completely caught up in what I was doing that I didn’t see the- yeah, yeah, I know I’m a dumbass, just, uh, wait for me, okay? I’ll be right there, I swear. Bye.”
And with that, Jongho emerged out of his room again, rushing out of the apartment without sparing a single glance at the two of you
Not that either of you minded, anyway, too preoccupied with the fact that you were finally alone together to care about anything else
There was not a word spoken between the two of you as you faced each other again, the eager look in your eyes enough for the both of you to know what was about to go down
Wooyoung decided to take action first, closing the gap between your bodies by pressing your lips together in a hot, feverish kiss
You wasted no time either, quickly crawling onto his lap and tangling your fingers in his hair to deepen the kiss even further
Wooyoung’s hands roamed all over your body until they eventually came to rest on your hips, helping you grind down on the hard-on he’d been trying to keep at bay for way too long
You stayed like this for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s bodies and the electrifying anticipation of what was about to come
That was until you tugged on Wooyoung’s hair just right, the sensation of it along with the unexpected bite on his lower lip making him let out a wanton moan
Deciding that he’d had enough, he suddenly stood up from the couch, taking you by surprise as he lifted you up with him
The look of shock on your face must have been evident, judging by the smug smile on Wooyoung’s lips as he carried you to the bedroom
“Didn’t think I could do that, huh?” He asked teasingly, eyes gauging your reaction as he breached the entrance to his room
And while you usually got annoyed by that shit-eating grin of his, you had to admit, you were genuinely impressed
“Honestly? No, I didn’t,” you conceded, watching the look of surprise on his face at you actually giving in to him, “and I gotta say, that was really fucking hot,” you continued, making Wooyoung’s ears turn red in response
He’d never admit it, but as much as he loved the usual banter and bickering between the two of you, genuine compliments and admiration like this made him completely weak in the knees for you
And so, with a new wave of fervor coursing through him, he basically threw you down on the bed, taking a split second to admire the view in front of him before jumping on it as well to join you
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you at his new-found passion, peppering kisses all over your neck as his hands slipped under your shirt, eagerly exploring the skin there
Not wanting to waste any more time, you gently pulled his head away to take off your shirt and bra, immediately causing his eyes to look down, taking in all of your beautiful body under him
It seemed as though everything you did made him even more enthusiastic, every little movement, noise, or revealed skin turning him on impossibly more
And while this was definitely endearing and sexy to you (as well as a huge confidence boost), it also came with quite a bit of clumsiness from Wooyoung
From the way his hands fumbled with his hoodie before finally managing to take it off, to the momentary loss of balance as he dove back down to give you yet another hot kiss
Only to accidentally lean a bit too forward and bump your foreheads together - hard
“Ow!” You cried out in pain at the impact, pulling away from him as you caressed your throbbing forehead
Wooyoung let out a small groan of his own at the collision, but shook the pain off right away to tend to you
“Shit, are you okay?” He asked worriedly, replacing your hand with his to try and soothe the spot himself
“I- yeah, it’s- it’s okay, just,” you tried to reply, forced to pause for a moment due to the sharp pain in your skull, “didn’t expect it, is all.”
“Are you sure?” Wooyoung pressed on anyway, not believing your words when your eyes were still scrunched up in pain, “I swear I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry, babe.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, making him even more puzzled
“Woo it’s fine, really,” you said, finally opening your eyes again to give him an amused smile, “and of course you didn’t mean to, who would ever consciously decide to just ram their head into their girlfriend like that?”
Wooyoung groaned at your words, leaning down to hide his face in your neck in embarrassment, “shut up, I still feel bad.”
You cooed at that, finding this guilty and sheepish side of your boyfriend utterly adorable
“I know hun, it’s okay,” you comforted him, rubbing gentle circles on his back while the pain in your forehead slowly started to subside, “I think we both just got a little too excited for our own good, you know?”
Wooyoung rose up at that, looking at you with big eyes as he argued back: “Of course we did! How could I not be horny out of my mind when Jongho made us wait almost two extra hours?!”
“And there he is again”, you thought to yourself with a chuckle
The drama queen of a boyfriend you came to love so much, happy and lively just like before <3
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Jongho
Sex with Jongho was fun.
Contrary to what the people around him made you believe at first - that he was this mature and aloof guy who was always so quiet and serious - you quickly came to find just how wrong all of them were
Because despite admittedly keeping to himself most of the time around other people, that did not apply to his romantic and sexual relationships in the slightest
After all, when you have to hold yourself to a certain standard all day, it gets pretty tiring pretty quickly
And so, once the two of you started to get more comfortable with each other, Jongho let himself relax around you as well
He gradually became more and more open and vulnerable with you, letting you in on his various thoughts and opinions, and, later on, even some of his deepest secrets
Of course, this is no one-way street, and in the same way Jongho expects you to accept him fully, he does so to you as well
Whatever it is that you want to share or are interested in, you can always trust Jongho to hear you out with a completely open and curious mind
At first, this pertained mainly to your general relationship, but as time went on and you’d had your fair share of comfortable, vanilla sex, the two of you mutually agreed on trying to venture a bit further
You started out pretty simple, introducing light bondage and some mild dirty talk into the bedroom, which ended up being a lot of fun for the both of you
Eventually, however, even that became too mild and familiar, and you continued to explore even deeper
Because of this, discussing different turn-ons and fantasies became pretty common between the two of you, and although it still made you feel a bit embarrassed (and, judging by the small blush on Jongho’s cheeks as he stumbled over his words a little, you weren’t the only one), it was really exciting to hear and see what Jongho found arousing
During one of these discussions, you’d decided to bring up something that had been plaguing your mind for the longest time now, finally feeling brave enough to admit to it
“Actually, there was something new I’ve been wanting to try for a while now,” you confessed shyly after Jongho asked you if there was anything new you wanted to look into
“Oh? What is it?” He asked, perching up in his spot on the couch
“Ah, it’s a bit embarrassing, especially now that I’ve admitted to thinking about it for a long time,” you nervously chuckled, making Jongho smile at your cute antics as well before silently beckoning you to continue
“It’s just that...I’ve been wondering if maybe you could try being a bit...rougher in bed, so to speak? Like using your strength more and just, you know,” you trailed off, somehow feeling a lot more shy bringing up this specific idea than any of the other interests
Jongho giggled at your red face, unable to stop himself from blushing either
It’s not a secret that Jongho is pretty buff and strong, anyone can recognize that just by glancing at him
However, that didn’t stop Jongho from nearly melting on the spot whenever you complimented him on his physique, puffing his chest like the cheesy man he is whenever you did
So now, to hear that you not only liked his strength but liked it like that, Jongho was pretty much screaming and squealing on the inside (in a good way, of course!!)
“Oh, um, uh,” Jongho began, stammering like a bumbling idiot as his head filled over with way too many interesting ideas at the prospect
It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about this either, of course he had
It was just that he didn’t want to force anything like this on you, since your sex life has been mostly just soft and loving so far, and he didn’t want to make you think he didn’t enjoy it that way
And so, he waited for you to come to him of your own volition, wanting to be sure that you genuinely wanted this as well and weren’t agreeing to it just to please him because most porn sites showed the rougher parts of sex
But now that you did, he was so surprised that he almost didn’t know what to say, except for the stuttery and giggly “y-yeah, sure, I’d love to.”
And it was exactly those few words of agreement that brought you here, lying with your back on the bed, legs wrapped around Jongho’s waist as he let all of his frustration out on you
He’d had a long, infuriating day at work today, and after storming home almost fuming, it was unanimously decided that this was the perfect time to try out your latest suggestion
With the way Jongho was already furious, there was no need to try and rile him up any further
You knew as much by the way he suddenly picked you up in the hallway, throwing you over his shoulder with a slap to your butt as he stomped over to your shared bedroom
There, he threw you down on your bed, quickly tossing his shirt off before making his way to you, caging you between his arms as he kissed you feverishly
And now, a few minutes later, you were still pressed beneath him, grasping onto his arms and back for dear life as he let himself get completely lost in you, grunting with every rougher thrust
“Jongho!” You cried out, making him look down at you with wild, dazed eyes
“Wh-what? Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, closing his eyes momentarily to try to calm down (or at least enough to be able to comprehend your words)
“M-more,” you whined weakly, giving him an equally as fucked-out face
He let out a hitched chuckle at your words, lowering his head with a grin of disbelief
“More? I’m already fucking you this hard and you still want more?” He questioned, making you whimper at the teasing words
“You’re insatiable, I swear,” he muttered proudly, leaning down to give you a passionate kiss before suddenly pulling away, “but fine.”
He removed your legs from his waist, only to then hoist them up to rest on his shoulders as he nearly folded you in half
You gasped at the sudden change of positions, feeling him drive even deeper into you like this
Without any further ado, he resumed his previous pace, pushing into you with a loud groan
You were quick to return back to your cloud nine, mind hazed over with nothing but Jongho firmly gripping your hips, brows furrowing as he desperately tried to hold back his orgasm for just a little longer
You were getting way too close yourself, sneaking a hand between the two of you to help yourself just a little bit more to get there
Not long after, you felt yourself dangerously near the edge, mouth opening to tell Jongho in what you hoped would be a stable enough voice for your pleas to still be coherent
Before you could say anything, however, a loud snap resonated through the room, and you could feel the bed under you dip slightly
The two of you froze instantly, looking at each other with wide eyes as you tried to catch your breath
You were the first one to break the silence, still gasping for breath as you spoke: “Did the bed just...?”
After a beat of nothing, Jongho replied: “I-I think so.”
Leaning a bit to the side to check the bedframe, Jongho first let out a shocked gasp before an incredulous chuckle left his lips as he saw a huge crack running down the side of it
“Holy shit.”
You shared a long look of both amazement and embarrassment before a sly, teasing smile made its way onto your lips
“So, are you gonna keep going, or...?”
Taking a second to process your words, Jongho let out a small laugh at your words, shaking his head in amused disbelief
“Just like I said...”
He cautiously moved off the bed, hearing a dangerously loud creak from under him as he got up
But then, without a warning, he pulled you by your leg to the edge of the bed before picking you up into his arms, making you yelp in surprise as you instinctively wrapped yourself around him
“You’re absolutely insatiable,” he said, a playful grin on his face as your eyes met again before giving you a quick peck on the lips
Carefully, he carried you down the hallway and into the living room before laying you down on the couch
Just like before, he climbed onto the couch with you, lifting your legs up again to resume what you had been doing
Not before going in for one more kiss, though, pulling away with that beautiful smile of his
“But I love it.” 
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Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always appreciated! ♥  
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shootingmorningstar · 6 months
Note
[slides on in] well hello there fellow lucifer fanatic
could i request some hcs with luci and an indecisive reader? gn and established relationship!! ex: he asks what they want for dinner and they panic trying to pick something because they feel like they need to decide right then and there or they’ll annoy him.
please and thank you! 🫶
anon, you're just like me fr. i also can never make up my mind and love lucifer. i'd be happy to write this for you .ᐟ
thank you for my first request, by the way ~ .ᐟ now to get to the good part.
LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! INDECISIVE READER
Look at this man. This is the man who has piles upon piles of rubber ducks in his workshop. You cannot tell me Lucifer isn't also indecisive, at least when it comes to less serious things.
Seriously. You expect me to believe he hasn't looked at his own work and went 'nope, looks bad. starting over.' .ᐣ
With that being said, I think he would find it an incredibly endearing trait in you. The concentrated face you make when you're stuck between two options .ᐣ Absolutely adorable.
That is, until the unsure and conflicted look on your face morphs into one telling of your anxiety and worry.
Now, I hope you'll excuse the bird pun, but he is absolutely a mother hen type.
The second he sees even a hint of panic on your face .ᐣ He's immediately shifting all of his focus on you -- if it hadn't been already.
He's rushing over to you without you having to so much as ask -- his beloved partner, distressed .ᐣ No matter the reason, that won't do. He won't rest until he sees you smiling again.
Wrapping his arms around you in a hug, likely even his wings, too. He's suffered so many panic attacks before, he knows just how miserable they are.
He wishes you had come into his life earlier so you could of comforted him through the worst of his.
Even if your panic hasn't dissolved into a full blown attack, he is there. His touch is grounding, it helps you calm down and come back to reality.
When your heart's stopped racing and you look as if you're able to talk about it, he'll ask you just what has you so distressed.
Don't even bother trying to lie to him. He can tell when someone's hiding their feelings.
He won't force you to tell him, though. He just wants to know what went wrong so he can help prevent it from happening again.
If you decide to share your worries with him, he wouldn't belittle you in the slightest. Is it time you need .ᐣ You two have all the time in the world.
Would you rather he choose .ᐣ Because he wouldn't mind.
Or if it's something more serious, he offers to sit down with you and discuss the pros and cons of each -- maybe you two can come up with a decision together .ᐣ
His face sort of falls if you decide to tell him part of the reasoning behind your anxiety is a fear that you'll end up annoying him. Did he do something to make you think he'd judge you .ᐣ
Or maybe he got short with you .ᐣ He's so apologetic. He wants you to feel like you can share anything and everything with him.
He won't let himself start feeling overwhelmed with guilt, though. This moment is about you and the reassurance you need, not his guilt issues.
Explain to him that you know he'd never do such a thing and that it's just an irrational thought coming from worry and he's taking your face into his hands, telling you that he would never, ever think less of you, much less get upset over something as silly as struggling to make a choice.
Like he said earlier, let him help you choose. You two are stronger together and this is no exception.
He's always soft to you, but count on him being even more so than usual for the rest of the night. You two can watch your favorite show or movie -- or whatever you'd like to do to destress. ♡
first request finished ~ .ᐟ how'd I do .ᐣ i'd love to hear your thoughts. feedback fuels my writing muse more than anything else .ᐟ
i'm really hoping this formats correctly, i'm used to using the tumblr app && currently stuck on laptop </3
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walpu · 6 months
Note
Hi, it’s me again!! >_<
When I tell you I gobbled that headcannon post up, I went down on two knees and howled /hj
Anyways, do you think you can do some headcannons on Aventurine with Bodyguard! Reader if you have the time? But this time, with a twist :3
See, reader does care for Aven, you truly do, but before that, you were tasked by Everflame mansion and by Duke inferno himself to kill Aventurine. But you can’t bring yourself to, no, not when you’ve fallen head over heels for him.
When reader does become Aven’s bodyguard, you maintain that serious, no nonsense demeanor, but if he looks closely enough, he’ll see the lovestruck puppy hiding under the hardened shell that they’ve put on.
But the guilt catches up. One day, at least a few months after reader’s betrayal to Duke Inferno, you catch sight of an assassin sent to finish the job they couldn’t do. And so, the secret is finally revealed.
Personally, I think Aventurine would be betrayed, like very, how could he not be? He’s always kept people at an arm’s length away, and when he finally lets you in his walls, and starts falling for thier charm, this secret of yours comes out. He fires you almost immediately, but the way he stares after you with misty eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.
The next months were absolute hell. Reader found a new job as a barista, and is quite enjoying the quaint and simply life it provides, even if you do miss Aventuirne. He’s probably still seething at you, right?.
Wrong. Because you’ve gone MIA, Aventurine been scouring all over the place, trying so hard to find you. He’s loosing sleep, forgetting to eat, all things that you would chide him about. Aeons, he misses you so much.
And when he does find you, he’s overjoyed, and when the two finally reunite, the first thing you do is to apologize deceiving him. But he forgave your silly ass a long time ago, why else would he have spent the last months trying to find you?
Long story short, it’s a happy ending, Aventurine couldn’t be more grateful he has you to be his bodyguard, his closest confidant, and most importantly, his lover <33
I’m so sorry if I went on a ramble, but this idea’s been plaguing me so bad I literally can’t focus on anything else 😭😭
I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWAR TO WRITIG FOR THIS REQUEST SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW IT I ADORE YOUR BODYGUARD!READER x AVEN SERIES btw thank you for sharing the c.ai bot
I feel like the only thing I do with each post is apologize for taking so long but right now I like from work trip to work trip so I'm actually really really sorry this madness should end soon 😭😭😭😭 Hope you'll enjoy this post, it was my goal to finish it before version 2.1
bodyguard/assassin!reader x Aventurine
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characters - Aventurine notes- gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, no beta
It was not a fast prosses for the both of to form a genuine connection. Moreover, you know goddamn well you shouldn't get attached to him.
And at first it seems easy, like yeah another rich playboy, no big deal, you've delt with people like him before, right? Right??????????????
Yeah until suddenly he's not just a rich playboy.
The more you notice how deeply lonely and unhappy he is, the more your heart softens towards him. And the more your heart softens, the more he relaxes around you, seeing behind your cold exterior.
He's not used to people caring about him. And yes, of course he knows it's your job but still, for a man who never had a real friend before, he surely can appreciate having someone who not only won't leave him but also will listen to him and look after him.
And the part about you being paid to do it? Oh well. It's the same guy who offers you to use him as you wish and who's greeting line is "I can play a role of a friend :)"
Mf is FRIENDLESS, LONELY and PATHETIC /affectionally
He'll take what he can get okay.
But goddamn. Don't think he doesn't notice how you started going out of your ways to take care of him. How you make him eat, tend to his small injuries ("my, my, you're my bodyguard, not a doctor. perhaps someone wants a raise, hm?~"), how you drag him out of casino or his office when it's too late.
It drives him crazy. It's not beneficial for you, right? The w h y.
He won't ask. Instead he will watch and slowly fold.
You are probably suffering tho lol. You should just kill him already, you've had so many opportunities to end him. Instead you spoon feed him soup because he claims he has a hangover after a night in the casino. And this little brat looks so smug about it too!!!!
Sometimes he feels like it's too good to be true: you being here, taking care of him, looking after him. The line between professional relationship, friendship and... something more is way too blurry already, and he knows it's dangerous but it just feels so good. Too good.
Duke inferno gets tired eventually. He sends someone to remind you of your mission. To remind you who you really work for.
Well, the duke receives a warning of his own. The dead body of his little messenger.
You know, of course, that the Everflame mansion thugs are not easily intimidated. They will be back. So you better warn Aventurine and tell him everything.
You can't keep lying to him, can you?
Well. It's surprisingly not as easy as you thought. After all, even if they will send someone, you'll just protect Aven like you always do, right? He doesn't have to know. Not about your past, not about your original mission. He keeps his secrets too, so why can't you?
You know goddamn well why tho. You know and yet you still can't bring yourself to tell him the truth.
It goes on like that for several months and Aventurine notices that something is clearly off, something is bothering his darling protector. He tries to pry, to tease, to cling, to pester you. Something to make you open up. Or, at least, get distracted. He can't help but feel anxious. Why are you suddenly so reversed? Do you want to leave his side? Does he not pay you enough? Does he bother you too much? It eats him alive while he tries to mask it by pestering you even more. As if to test you. As if to make sure that it's not the case.
All the hell breaks loose one day when you discover that Duke inferno has sent another assassin to finish the job.
I you spare the details but yeah, your secret was unraveled. And it wasn't pretty at all.
You have never seen emotions so vivid on Aven's face. Part of you always wanted to see him more vulnerable, more open with you. But not like this. Not this look of utter betrayal.
He collects himself quick enough, hiding behind the mask of mock disappointment.
"Hm, well, I recall mentioning that treachery is just another tool of the trade. But it seems like our little deal is not paying off for me anymore" he says with a cold chuckle, shaking his head a little. "After all, you have very little to offer outside of your dog-like loyalty. But seems like this dog bit both hands that fed it".
You were expecting him to call for your arrest but instead he just fires you. It hurts nevertheless.
What hurts even more is that look he gives you when you part ways. It's like his pretty eyes are even more lifeless now.
At first he feels this overwhelming emptiness. It truly feels like the fate is mocking him. One time, just one time, he allowed himself to relax around someone. Just this one time, with this one person who took care of him, who listened to him, who looked out for him. And this person was supposed to kill him.
Then his stupid brain finds another way to torture him. He keeps thinking about the way you have always protected him, the way you took the hit even during the last attack, when Duke Inferno's new assassin tried to get to him. You were ready to leave your past life behind to stay by his side, weren't you?
As soon as he realizes it he goes frantic. Of course he tries to find you asap but of course someone as competent as you would be able to disappear without a trace in no time. You were an assassin, after all. A skilled one too, since he never even suspected you.
This connection the two of you had, this realization that you really cared enough to betray your client, all of this makes him realize that he needs you so, so much. He needs to feel this care again, he need to look at you again, to know that you're here by his side.
He misses you so much. Your nagging, your reassurance, your touch. He's like an addict who felt what it feels like to love and beloved in return for the first time and now he can't live without it.
He doesn't eat or sleep properly, his head plagued by the thoughts about you. What if you forgot all about him? What if you're wounded? Where are you even? His fingers itch to trace your face and your scars.
He thinks about how you would scold him for not taking proper care of himself and it makes him miss you even more.
Aven finds you after a few months. It was honestly a coincidence, one of his subordinates saw you in the coffee shop you were working at.
He though that finding you will calm him down but seeing you from afar, looking somewhat peaceful and cozy, having a regular job... it's too much. And what if you really don't need him anymore? Maybe you never did? After all, he's painfully aware that he probably needs you much more than you need him.
And yet, he decides to take this risk. He's a gambler, after all.
"Somehow I'm not surprised you're good even at that. How come you have never made me coffee before, hm?"
You literally freeze on the spot after hearing this familiar voice next to you.
When you finally get to talk, you can see he's really trying to look calm and collected but how can he? His hands are shaky and his voice cracks. It breaks your heart.
He doesn't even let you finish your apology, pressing a finger to your lips.
"Hush, darling. All is forgiven. In fact, I even have an interesting proposal. I'm can be a generous man after all".
He can't fool you. Not with this shaky soft voice. And he knows it as well.
Please hug that fool and kiss him. Swear that you won't ever leave him again. Swear that you want to be by his side. As his bodyguard, as his friend, as something more. So much more. That's all he really need to feel like he's at home.
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buttsmasher · 8 months
Text
Gage (Edited)
Been trying to go through my old stories and slowly re-upload them after I give them a review. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Tags/Warnings: Fag bashing, face farting, willing victim turned to unwilling, asphyxiation by farts, fart torture
Gage is a grade A prick. You pretty much learned that the moment he moved into the house. Your other roommate literally moved out because he couldn’t stand him. The only reason you’ve stayed is because the rent is cheap and the landlord isn’t complete trash. The other reason is that you have a sort of hate crush on Gage.
You understand he’s a prick and he seems like a bit of a fag basher, but dude has a rockin bod. And he has no sense of other people’s personal boundaries. One time when you had friends over, he walked out of his room completely naked to get a beer out of the fridge. Which you didn’t mind too much because you got front row seats to watch his ass jiggle. Your lesbian friends were mortified of course. Especially when he started to shake his hips to make his dick flop around. After that, you’ve all decided to do movie night at their house now to avoid any more incidents.
The other thing about Gage is that he’s a literal gas bomb. The dude is constantly gassy and it may make your dick strain against your shorts when you’re both watching TV and he lifts a leg to let out a massive fart. And look, if you’re secretly there taking quiet inhales of his stinky gas then no one needs to know.
It all comes to a head today though. You keep a journal, and you may or may not have written all your dirty fantasies about Gage in them. Looking back at it, probably not the best idea, but too late to change that now. 
You’re in the kitchen making scrambled eggs when Gage comes into the kitchen. “Good morning.” You mumble to him, not fully expecting an answer. He opens the fridge and pours himself a glass of OJ as he plays on his phone. He laughs at something before walking towards the kitchen table. 
“Hey fart slut, what’s for breakfast?” You freeze. Did he really just say that? He snaps his fingers a couple of times. “Yo, fag, I’m talking to you.” You slowly turn to look at him.
“Uhm, Scr-scrambled eggs?” You don’t know why it came out as a question. 
“Cool, I want cheese on mine.” He doesn’t even look at you as he plays on his phone.
“Oh, uhhh, I didn’t make enough for the both of us.” You look at the pan and push it around. 
“It’s fine, just give me yours.” 
“What?” He locks eyes with you.
“Let me put it another way. Give me your breakfast and I don’t post your dirty fart fantasies online.” You try to stay calm but you’re freaking out. You turn back around fully and focus on finishing the eggs, throwing cheddar cheese on top right before you finish. Your hands are shaking as you plate the food and bring it over to Gage.
“Anything else?” You say nervously placing the food and a fork down in front of him.
“Tabasco.” He doesn’t look up from his phone, you just do as he says. “Sit.” He says as you go to make yourself more scrambled eggs. “I gotta say, you’re pretty nasty. I mean, to like that shit, you gotta have some serious problems.”
“Fuck off.”
“I mean, to want to get on your knees to sniff someone’s dirty ass. That’s some dog level shit.” You watch as he stuffs his mouth with eggs. “Tell me, how are you any better than a dog?”
“You’re an ass.” Your chair groans against the floor as you get up. 
“Sit back down.” Gage says firmly.
“No, fuck you. I don’t have to take this.”
PFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFF
You freeze as Gage rips a five second fart. The smell hits you from where you’re standing. You can hear Gage laughing from behind you and you can’t help the shame that wafts over you. “You’re pathetic. You get one whiff of my ass funk and you can’t walk away.” You take a deep breath and calmly begin to walk to your room. “I have more where that came from, you know?” You squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to ignore him. 
PFFFFFF
A high pitched fart hisses from his ass. “See? And they can be up your nose if you ask me nicely.” You’re not even looking at him and you can just see his cocky grin.
“What do you want?” You ask, knowing you’ve already lost.
“Heh, knew it.” You hear his chair scrape against the floor as he gets up. “You just need to beg.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “Beg your daddy to fart up your nose.” He whispers in your ear.
“You’re an ass.”
“I know.” He turns you around and pushes you down onto your knees. “Beg doggy.” You lock eyes again, completely humiliated on the ground.
“Please, Gage, fart up my nose.” You say without enthusiasm. 
PFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT
“Fuck, that was a big one you just missed out on. Beg.” You sigh.
“Please daddy, please make me your fart slut.” He laughs.
“Better.” He turns around giving you the view of his brief clad ass. “Get your face in it.” You do as he says, getting a whiff of the lingering scent of the last fart. “Just remember you wanted this.”
PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFF
Airy farts warm your face as your nose gets overwhelmed by the absolutely toxic smell. It’s not like anything you thought it’d be like. “Wait.” You manage to cough out. “Wait stop.” You go to pull away but he holds you firmly in place.
“You’re not going anywhere.” He hikes his leg up slightly.
PFFFFFFFFFFFBBRBRBFFFFFTTTTTT
“Oof, that one’s gonna be bad.” He wasn’t wrong. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you're forced to endure that blast of a ten second fart. It’s absolutely eggy, and your eyes are watering. “Definitely wouldn’t want to be down there. But you’re liking this right fag?” You frantically shake your head no, wanting to pull away. “Aww, I knew you’d love my ass. Here, I’ll blow you a kiss.”
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFF
Another disgusting fart burns it’s way up your nose and down to your lungs. Your face is extremely warm and you can’t think straight. You strain to pull away from the toxic fumes constantly barraging your face but Gage’s hold is too strong.
PFFFFBRBRBRFFFFFFTTT
“Look, I know my brew is strong, but you’re the one who wanted this. And you begged oh so nicely for daddy to fart in your face. Who am I to get in your way of your dream?”
PFFFF PFF PFFFFFF PFFFFF
“It’s okay, I won’t judge you. Well maybe a little. Only cause you’re a fucked up a fag.” 
PFFBBRRRFFFTTT
It’s getting really hard to breathe down here. The only air you’re getting is Gage’s eggy farts. You’ve begun to uncontrollable cough and gag against his dirty briefs. 
“Man, imagine if I didn’t have these undies on. There’s no way you would survive that.” He laughs as he pulls his tight black briefs under his naked ass.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF
“Jesus, what did you put in those eggs? I bet you put in some extra fiber didn’t you?” 
“I know I’m a gassy guy, but damn, this is way worse than normal.” 
PFFFFFFFFBBBRRRRRRBRRRRR
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT
Everything is spinning around you and you’re having a hard time staying conscious. 
“Is it everything you hoped for faggot?” 
PFFFFF PFFFFFFFF PFFFFTTT PFFFFF
You feel yourself slump further into his musky ass, no longer able to keep yourself upright. You can hear Gage laughing as everything fades to black. A final fart hits your nose as you finally lose consciousness. “Night night fag.” Gage lets your body hit the floor before leaving you there.
When you awake again, you’re still on the kitchen floor. The smell of Gage’s ass still lingering on you.
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badomensbaby · 7 months
Text
above the law. lrh
Tumblr media
pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader
summary: luke's so sick of his assistant, you, talking all the damn time. he finally does something about it.
warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, verbal degradation, rough bj, slightly dubious consent, office sex, cum-swallowing, cursing.
word count: 4,173
a/n: i wrote this originally back in early 2023 as an au using one of my wattpad original characters. through some editing, i've decided to change the pov and post it here! i hope you enjoy x
feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!
Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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"Hemmings, get your head out of your ass for once and finish this goddamn deal."
The curly headed blonde's eyes snap away from the project he's currently in the middle of, various folders scattered amongst his desk, drowning him in useless paperwork all for a stupid fucking merger.
"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" Luke grumbles under his breath, snapping the Bolton file shut and tossing his overly expensive fountain pen on top of the mess he's created. Ashton Irwin, one of three named partners, stands with his arms crossed in the doorway of Luke's corner office, an unamused expression on his face.
"I think you're trying to do all this shit on your own instead of utilizing your associate, that's what I think," the honey blonde scoffs, thick brow raising, "Where's Y/N anyway? You send her across town for your stupid coffee again?"
"No," Luke's quick to defend, though it is the easiest way to get you out of his eyesight for a little while and focus, "I've got her on the Mansfield settlement."
"The Mansfield- that's Mike's case, idiot," Ashton shakes his head, "What's the deal, Luke? You really hate Y/N that much?"
A sigh of exhaustion leaves Luke's lips, head cocking back as he stares at the ceiling. "She's just chatty," he says vaguely, "Can't get a single fuckin' thing done 'cause she won't shut up."
"She's your associate, Luke, stop pawning her off on Mike or he'll swipe her out from under you."
"Good," he forces out a low chuckle, meeting the man's eyes, "He can have her."
"Don't say things you don't mean, you know she's one of the best associates we've got." Luke's eyes roll at his boss' words, sitting up straighter in his desk chair.
"Whatever," he mumbles softly, not willing to admit your brain is undeniably better than half the fucking people he's met. "Can I get back to work now?"
A defeated sigh escapes Ash's lips, "If I don't see Y/N in here working with you I'll make sure to send Calum your way."
"Calum?" the curly haired boy's nose wrinkles, shaking his head, "That's like giving me a fucking puppy, Ash, literally useless."
"Your call." he responds, a little smirk on his lips before pulling Luke's office door shut behind him. A groan leaves Luke's throat at this, the urge to rip every last blonde ringlet from his head at the idea of spending the remaining afternoon going over these stupid files with you.
Regardless of the fact that you’re distracting, which he'll never admit aloud, he shoots you a vague text requiring your presence in his office, no more than twenty minutes from now.
And of course, your dainty little wrist began knocking on the dark wooden door of his office precisely twenty-three minutes after he'd sent the text, only fueling his annoyance. A curt "come in" leaves his lips but his eyes remain on the file, instead of the sinful black dress on your curvy frame.
Tasteful and tightly fit, your fingers instinctively tug at the material resting on your mid thigh, a worrisome look on your features. For as long as you can recall, Luke's always teased you about your wardrobe, especially the bright colors and silken skirts.
"You're late," his tone is flat, hand scribbling away at the paperwork he's nearly memorized already, "I swear to god if you say some bullshit about the elevator again-"
Luke's words die in his throat as he lifts his head, eyes landing on the tight fabric on your frame, hugging every fucking dip and curve of your body. You meet eyes, yours widening, worried you’re going to be lectured again. Was your dress too plain, too boring?
The sweetheart neckline alone almost makes Luke lick his lips, stifling the urge to say something far, far more inappropriate to his associate. "Doesn't matter," the blonde rushes out, "We're gonna be here all night. Preorder from Machi's while you're at it."
"Okay," is all you say, walking closer to his desk, the click of your heels echoing Luke's ears as you bend over, just slightly, grabbing his desk phone and beginning to dial.
After nearly four hours and neither had made a miraculous discovery, a whine of agony leaves your throat, sat across the moderately sized office, snapping yet another useless file folder shut. "Luke,"
"What?" he rasps, tearing his eyes away from the file, meeting your eyes, his own filled with annoyance. "Don't tell me you've got nothing, Y/N."
"There's honestly no reason why Bolton should be merging with Daniels," you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, "Seriously, it's like Pampers merging with Microsoft, they have no interest in one another."
"Christ," Luke mutters under his breath, jaw tensing as you continue to ramble useless information, "Do you ever shut up?"
Mid-sentence, your lips snap shut, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Sorry," you respond softly, and Luke almost feels bad for being so curt, but god you never close your fucking mouth. "Did you find anything?"
A huff of air leaves Luke's nose, "Maybe," he says, twirling his fountain pen between his fingers, leg bouncing aimlessly as he scans over the documents for the umpteenth time. "But you keep fucking talking and it's throwing me off."
"Sorry."
"Damnit, Y/N," his curls bounce slightly as he shakes his head, rifling a hand through them, glancing over at your position on the small sofa, dress slightly ridden up your smooth thighs. "Come here, let me show you something."
Hesitantly, you toss the file on your lap onto the cushion, standing and making your way over to Luke's desk, oblivious to the fitted material of your dress riding a bit higher than intended. Luke swallows thickly, attempting to keep focus on the file in his hand. As you lean over slightly to see what Luke's underlined, his eyelids fall shut, the smell of your perfume annihilating his senses.
"But that means-" you cut yourself off, lower lip tucked between your teeth, palms flat on the corner of Luke's desk, "This isn't about combining their companies, is it?"
"No," Luke finally says after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open, "But we need to convince the judge it is."
"That's impossible, Luke, it's clear they're only doing this for-"
"I know, just figure it out, Y/N."
"That'll take all night," you whine softly, "I'm not sleeping in the office two nights in a row." Luke's teeth grit together at your response, frustrated and fed up with your goddamn attitude.
"If you can't do it I'll find someone who can," he cranes his neck to meet your eyes, narrowed and darkened, "You wanna whine about a few more hours be my guest, but you're not doing it here."
"But-"
"Jesus fucking-" he abandons his pen with a thud, rubbing the palms of his hands against his tired eyes, "I seriously have never met someone so goddamn annoying. All you fucking do is whine and complain and talk my fucking ear off," Luke rambles lowly, "You wanted to be an associate, so be a goddamn associate and shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."
You stand upright, embarrassment washing over your features, attempting to remain composed as tears threaten your eyes. It's not a secret that Luke's always harbored some sort of annoyance toward you, but he's never spoken to you in such a vile manner before. You swallow the thick lump in your throat, fists balled at your sides. How dare he say those things to you?
"You're an asshole," you say, voice wavering slightly, "You're always a dick to everyone. Nobody's ever good enough for you. I wanted to be an associate to learn and do what I love, not be talked to like a child."
"The fuck did you say to me?" Luke counters with a raised brow, ringed fingers slowly rolling up the sleeves of his fitted black dress shirt. "I think you forget who you work for. Not Ashton, not Michael, definitely not Jessica. You work for me, Y/N, and if you want to keep your fucking job I think you owe me a goddamn apology."
Luke's eyes flicker between yours and the hemline of your little black dress, the skin of your thighs soft and tempting as he widens the distance between his legs, splayed open. "Come here," he says, a bit quieter this time, though he's fucking seething internally, he can't deny how fucking hot it is talking down to the you. Hesitantly, you step closer, stomach swirling with uneasiness.
"You don't wanna go through those files? Fine," Luke forces out a low chuckle, "But I've got work to do and I'm not gonna let you get in the way of that. So what you're gonna do is sit right here," he taps on his clothed thigh, "Shut your fucking mouth and make yourself cum on my thigh."
"What-"
"You heard me."
"Luke, I-"
"It wasn't a question, Y/N. And so help me god if you complain or make a fucking sound you're more than welcome to leave."
For the first time, you’re speechless. Standing so close to the man you swear hates you with every fiber of his being, asking you to make yourself cum on his thigh, you can't help the clench of your own thighs at the thought. Sure, you’ve had those kinds of thoughts about the tall blonde, but never did you imagine his request.
"So? What'll it be?" Luke asks impatiently, a thick brow raised as he grabs his pen, clicking it profusely, leaning back in his chair.
Wordlessly, and swallowing your pride, you step closer, slowly lifting your leg over the blonde's thigh, his foot firmly planted on the small rug beneath him. His eyes almost widen, as if he didn't expect you to comply, and he stifles a grunt when your warm center meets the fabric of his slacks. He can feel how fucking wet you are through the thin material of your underwear, your dress sliding a bit further up your thighs, almost exposing yourself to him.
"Alright then," Luke clears his throat, leaning forward slightly to grab the Bolton file, relaxing in his desk chair. "Get to it."
With her heart rattling in her chest, you grasp the armrest of Luke's chair to ground yourself, filled to the brim with shame. Are you really going to do this? You can still back out, you don't need to show Luke how pathetic you are, fucking leaking on his slacks just from his crude words. You don't even register the rock of your hips against his thigh until a soft moan slips from your lips, catching Luke's attention, his eyes briefly flickering to you.
And fuck is it hot. Your eyes slowly flutter shut as your hips roll in slow motions, the friction from the fabric forgotten, sensitive clit throbbing from your movements. Luke's jaw tenses, tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight, his cock twitching in his slacks.
Shame and embarrassment are out the window as you near your first orgasm, the explicit images of things you’ve only dreamt of unfolding behind your eyelids. You can only fucking imagine how Luke's fingers would feel inside you, the things he'd say as he's bottoming out inside of your tight heat. And it's suddenly overwhelming as you clench pathetically, throbbing against his thigh and your own legs shaking as you finish. "Fuck-"
Luke's eyes widen, biting hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure, the sound of you falling apart on his thigh sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. He wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck the daylights out of you until you’re drooling and forgetting your own goddamn name.
Reality comes crashing down as your orgasm passes, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips. Did you really just make yourself cum on your boss' thigh? "Luke-"
"Do it again."
"What?" You ask breathlessly, straightening your back, "You- you want me to do it again?"
"What did I say about shutting that pretty mouth of yours, Y/N? If I tell you to do something, do it," he scoffs, acting as though the sight of you cumming didn't turn him on even more, "If you're pathetic enough to do it once I'm sure you'll have no problem doing it again."
Your sensitive clit throbs helplessly as you swallow, white-knuckling the armrest and rocking your hips yet again. The swollen nub continuously brushing Luke's slacks has you choking down whimpers and whines, fearful of Luke's reaction to you making noise. Though, the idea of what he'll do if you don't comply lingers in your hazy mind.
The intermittent bounce of Luke's leg isn't doing you any favors either, little uh uh's leaving your parted lips.
You’re fucking drenched, the thin fabric of your lace underwear doing nothing to keep your arousal from coating Luke's thigh as you roll and rock your hips a bit quicker, your second orgasm creeping up on you, your head tossing back when a low, drawn-out whine leaves your lips, cumming for the second time like a pathetic whore.
And Luke fucking loves every goddamn second of it.
Attempting to calm yourself down from your release, thighs still trembling, Luke tosses the file onto his desk. He hadn't read a damn word of it anyway, not when you’re grinding your pretty little cunt against his thigh like a slut.
Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush a deep crimson shade as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve soaked the fabric of Luke's slacks with your release, your own goddamn boss. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Don't say another word," he firmly cuts you off, "Get on your fucking knees."
"Why-"
"I'm honestly so fucking tired of listening to you, Y/N," Luke's tone lowers, a scoff leaving his lips, watching as you scramble to the floor. "Gonna shut you up, make good use of that stupid fucking mouth of yours."
Catching sight of the wet patch on his slacks, he nearly groans, ringed fingers fumbling with his belt buckle in record time, desperate for the release of his achingly hard cock. You seem to catch on, widened doey eyes flickering up to Luke's, your hands neatly folded in your lap. Luke pulls his slacks down just enough to allow his length to be exposed, not wanting to show an ounce of vulnerability to you. You don't deserve a sweet intimate moment, you deserve to be fucking ruined.
"Open your mouth," he grunts, hissing as he grasps the base of his cock, your lips parting slowly, the blonde stepping forward and guiding the tip past your lips. "Wanna see you choke on my cock."
He doesn't give you a moment to register his words before he's thrusting fully into your mouth, tip poking the back of your throat and a choking sound emitting from your lips. You scramble to grasp at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady. The sight of your sparkly lipgloss coating his cock is so fucking intoxicating and he wonders why he hadn't thought of it sooner.
Using his hands to grasp your hair quite roughly, he continues to fuck into your mouth at a degrading pace, not allowing you to adjust to the forceful movements. Choking and gagging sounds fill the otherwise quiet room, spit dribbling from your lips. "Yeah, you like choking on my cock, Y/N? So much better than hearing you fuckin' talk."
Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants, a grunt leaving Luke's lips as his hips continue thrusting his cock into your mouth. You can barely take all of him, the base nearly untouched. "All you're fuckin' good for, hm?"
And suddenly he's removing himself from your mouth, chest heaving from how fucking wrecked you already look, the small tears pooling your waterline smudging the mascara you'd put on. "As much as I wanna watch you swallow for me," he heaves out, "I wanna feel that pretty fuckin' pussy of yours."
A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, clenching around nothing as you remain on your knees before him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips and the reddened, aching tip of Luke's cock. "You want me inside you?" he asks.
You have no words, honestly, the burn left behind in your throat from Luke's forceful thrusts halts you from speaking. Instead, you nod. "No, I want to hear you fuckin' say it, Y/N. I'm not an asshole."
"Yes," you weakly respond, "I want you."
"Good. Take that fuckin' dress off while you're at it."
Your shaky and frail fingers grasp the hemline of your dress hesitantly, eyes flickering between his leaking cock and his firm gaze, pulling the fitted material over your head and tossing it aside. Now sat in nothing but a pair of soaked, white lace panties and your heels, Luke's eyes fall on your bare breasts. "So fuckin' pretty."
"Luke-" you whimper quietly.
"Shut up," his hands reach beneath your arms, pulling you to your feet. Luke reaches around you, large hand swiping the array of documents off of his desk, sending them to the floor with a thud. You release a soft gasp when your bare backside meets the cool wooden desk, "Can't say I've never thought about this."
Luke's hands fall to your hips, gripping the skin roughly, and guiding you down until your back is flush with the desk, legs spread pathetically, displaying your clothed core to him. "God, you're so fucking soaked it's pathetic," he laughs lowly, shaking his head, and trailing a finger along the dampened material, coated in your previous orgasms and current arousal. He sends a soft smack with the back of his hand to your swollen clit, causing a whimper to leave your lips. "You'll let me have you any way I want, huh?"
"Luke-"
"Don't talk, I already know the answer," he raises your legs so your heels are resting on the edge of the desk, fingers ghosting the inside of your thighs teasingly, "Because here you are, spread out on my fucking desk like the whore you are."
"Please-"
"God, you just can't listen, huh?" his hands retreat from your skin, fumbling with his necktie, folding it into a neat little square. "I said I don't wanna hear you, Y/N." leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressing against your clothed core, he forces the folded tie between your lips, gagging you. "There, much better."
Luke works quickly to pull the pathetic excuse for underwear down your legs, tossing them alongside your dress on the floor. His cock twitches at the sight of you, fucking glistening and leaking just for him. He trails two fingers up your wetness, slicking his cock with your arousal, and prodding the tip against you. "Look at me," he says, hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, your own widening, "Wanna watch you take my fucking cock."
You look so fucking pretty all gagged up for him. Running his tongue along his lower lip, he roughly juts his hips forward, instantly bottoming out and a muffled scream leaves your lips at the stretch. The tears that brimmed your eyes previously begin to fall, feeling so full, "Fuck," he hums lowly.
He rocks his hips a few times, watching as your eyes practically roll back into your head. And god does that make him so fucking proud, staring at you as drool slowly dribbles from yourr lips. He halts, roughly tugging the tie from your mouth, fingers gathering the spit and shoving it between your lips. "Don't be messy," he tuts, before placing the tie back, "Already fuckin' droolin' like a whore and I'm barely getting started."
Luke retracts his cock, hands grasping at your hips and flipping your body, the sound of your stomach colliding with the wooden desk echoing through the room. "I don't wanna look at you," he says, palming the skin of your backside before smacking the smooth flesh. He realigns himself with your entrance, one hand splayed on your bare back to hold you in place.
Roughly thrusting inside once again, the moans and muffled choked sobs barely reach Luke's ears, too fucking entranced by the feeling of your tight little cunt taking him so well. "This," he rocks his hips forcefully, "Is fuckin' mine. Anytime I goddamn want it, you're gonna give it to me."
You scramble to grab the opposite edge of Luke's desk, white knuckling it as he forcefully pounds into you, so fucking deep and quick you can barely breathe. "Such a tight fuckin' cunt," he groans, fingernails scraping along your back, "Taking my cock like a good fuckin' slut."
Instinctively you clench around him, eliciting a deep borderline growl from Luke's throat, hand previously raking down your back finding your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers and yanking you backwards until you’re halfway to his chest. You rest your palms flat on the desk, eyes pinched shut in pleasure while he continues fucking into you at an unruly pace.
"Clench again for me," he moans out, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten, his orgasm slowly beginning to build. You comply, your thighs trembling, clenching as hard as you can. "Fuckin' god," Luke tosses his head back, eyelids fluttering shut in pure bliss.
You choke out another moan around the tie in your mouth, unable to warn the blonde of your third orgasm that's quickly approaching as he continuously pokes the perfect spot so fucking deep inside you’re nearly a drooling mess. The hand not entangled in your hair grips one of your breasts roughly, sending you over the edge in a series of muffled cries. Tears stream down your cheeks, cunt tightening around Luke yet again, the blonde hissing as he feels your release coat his cock, the slick sound of his thrusts growing louder.
"Fuckin' milkin' my cock like a whore," he spits out, grip tightening on your hair as he pulls you closer, thrusting into you impossibly harder. You can't fucking think, you’re a dizzy mess and can hardly form a thought. You can't even feel the drool pooling from the edges of your lips. "Gonna fill up that sweet little cunt of yours and make you mine."
Luke pulls you flush to his chest, your head lolling against his shoulder. Though he isn't one for kissing, he doesn't hesitate to graze his teeth against your exposed neck, sinking them into the supple flesh as his hips begin to stutter, groaning against your neck as he releases inside. You wince at the rough bite on your neck but you’re too spent to care, leaning fully against him as he rocks through his orgasm.
You’re in a daze when he pulls out of you, nearly falling against the desk, the blonde quickly reaching for you to keep you upright. Though he's smug and feeling overly satisfied for ruining you, a swirl in his stomach tells him he needs to make sure you’re alright. He pulls the tie from your mouth, not commenting on the drool spilled from your lips. "Y'okay?"
You can't fucking speak.
Luke's brows furrow with worry, hand delicately grasping your jaw and searching your hazy eyes. Pupils blown out just like his, fresh tears lingering on your cheeks. "Oh, baby," the pet name falls from his lips effortlessly, "C'mon."
Tucking his softening cock into his pants and guiding you away from his desk and towards the couch, he plucks your heels from your feet. Though he'd never in a million years consider aftercare, he's stripping his button down from his broadened frame and slipping your arms inside, buttoning it to cover your exposed body. "Luke," you toss your head back onto the plush couch.
"Hm?" he hums softly.
"I need to- need to clean up," you rasp quietly, a hint of a blush on your cheeks, head reeling from the soreness between your thighs.
"That's what m'here for," he coos sweetly, though the smirk of his lips has you swallowing thickly. His ringed hands trail along your warm and flushed skin, parting your trembling thighs, the sight of his release slowly dribbling out of your sweet cunt nearly has his cock stiffening in his slacks again. "Mm, such a pretty wrecked little pussy."
A gasp leaves your lips as he leans forward, nose brushing your lower stomach, tongue gathering his cum from your sensitive folds. Lapping up every fucking drop, Luke straightens himself out, reaching a hand towards your swollen lips and parting them with his thumb. You’re beyond confused as he tightly grips your jaw, before spitting the contents into your own mouth. Swiping any remnants from his own lips, he narrows his eyes. "Fuckin' swallow."
Clasping your pretty lips shut, you comply, feeling a stir in your stomach when your eyes meet, and swallow.
"My good fuckin' girl."
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