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cherry-leclerc · 2 months

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the set up ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, humor, parent trip vibes from oscahhh, strangers to lovers (bc of course it is), uni!reader

word count: 2.12k

Caught up in work, you find time to join your friends at the McLaren welcome dinner; meeting a certain British driver along the way. Whom you don't make the best first impression with.

req!...oscar+lily playing matchmakers? cute cute cuteeee. quick one for my lando lovers mwahhh

It takes a lot to convince you; like—a lot. Partial credit is due to your pride, but honestly, it drove your friends mad.

Let's go out and celebrate! Just a good ‘ol round of drinks. I have to study. Maybe next time.

Oh! I heard of this new place down the street where you custom make your own jewelry. Fun, no? I have enough already, thank you.

Five minutes—let’s just go grab coffee! Too tired. Go on without me.

“It’s my welcome dinner, mate. You can’t do this to me now.” Oscar’s brown eyes flicker between you and his girlfriend, to which she apologetically shrugs. Deep down, it's like she can forehear your excuse. An essay is due, your internship, helping out at your local library. There's been too many times where you’ve flaked, and they were starting to worry. The pile of clothes makes her wince as you greedily type away.

“I-I’m sorry, but I have to—”

“Reckon you don’t have anything on your agenda that is as important as you make it out to seem,” he hums. Narrowed eyes burn down, flipping your screen towards him.

Compile a series of current events…BLAH BLAH BLAH. He stops caring, already bored.

“I wish I could—seriously, Oscar—but I’m needed elsewhere.” A beat. “Lily will keep me updated! Go Mango!”

The Australian rolls his eyes, sharp eyebrows expanding with desperation. “Papaya, mate, papaya.” You giggle, mimically apologizing. The clicks continue; round eyes laser focused. He tries getting your attention once more, but you don’t look up at him at all. The driver’s girlfriend purses her pink lips, crossing her legs gingerly against the couch.

“I can help you write your paper. All of it. Just please, come with us.” Blue eyes wink back as you come to a halt, temptation swirling. “We’re your friends and we want you there. Pretty please?”

The McLaren rookie thinks it has to do with his girlfriend's cute pout, but that is so far from it. It was well known that Lily Zneimer had a wicked talent for conducting a killer research essay. From her resources, to her dialogue. It’s astonishing how smoothly it gets done too. With her, it’s a guaranteed pass. Now that was what you needed.

Berry lips twist back and forth for a second before stretching out. “Touch up on globalization effects in different cultures and we have ourselves a deal.”

The paper was coming along so perfectly that you almost wanted to cry. Your eyes buzz with excitement as you jot down a row of bullet points, conversing with Lily before settling on what to write.

“This is not what I had in mind when you both made this stupid pact,” Oscar groans for the millionth time as he passes by, spotting you and his girlfriend crouched down on a table; computer, notebook, pencils, index cards, books—everything—in hand.

“Mate, this is worth half of my grade,” you shriek; jotting a few more possible ideas. Finally, your dazy orbs connect back onto him. “As in fifty percent.” You gag. “Do you realize how terrifying that is?”

Lily shoos him. “We’re almost done anyway, darling. Go enjoy the party.” The Australian’s jaw drops and she huffs, raising her neat brows. “Go, go, goooo.”

Despite his girlfriend and his best friend ignoring him, he has a splendid time. He curses beneath his breath when a large hand sprawls against his back. Lando laughs. “Don’t worry, my date ditched me too,” he teases, blue eyes sparkling against the fuzzy lights. The rookie sighs plainly.

“I wasn’t ditched—'' He angles his head to face back to where you and the dirty blond hunch over, whispering, attention drawn onto the bright screen. A few people even go as far as to try and take a peek, probably thinking you were working on anything McLaren. “Yeah, uh, I guess you could say I was ditched.”

His teammate rubs his watch a couple or times, nothing but music lingering between them. No one really speaks up until Lily delicately makes her way. Oscar tilts his head politely. “Done?”

“No quite yet, but she has it all under control.” She faces the British driver with a sheepish line formed between her pink lips. “Hello, you must be Oscar’s new teammate.” A beat. “I’m Lily.”

“Lando,” he can feel himself proclaiming. “I thought she was Lily…” A lousy fingers points over to you. They both let out a weak chuckle. That’s my friend from back home, Oscar confirms. Her and Lily are super close, too. She beams, light blush feathering her full cheeks.

All of a sudden—the Australian sparks up. “Come; let me introduce you two.”

The twenty-four doesn't really have anything better to do; business convos that have him apologizing profusely, cameras being shoved straight into his face, girls who never get the hint. “Sure.”

First thing he notices is the faded scar that hugs the bridge of your nose. It's almost completely gone—and he really shouldn’t even be able to spot it—but it's there, almost a glassy color that shines back at him. He notices how quick you are at typing; navy blue, fingers flying at a constant speed. He’s impressed. Or the way you barely spare him a glance.

“Don’t be rude, he’s talking to you,” Oscar hissed as he and Lily tower over you like a strict parent duo. You can distinguish the panic that laces through her when you didn’t first respond, too worried at making a bad impression, even if it wasn't her leaving it behind.

“Of course, I…um, I’m sorry—shit!” The laptop blinks back at you as a warning before settling in its death. A groan slips by, hands pressing harshly against the keys, then the screen. Nervously, you look up at Lily, biting your bottom lip. “What do I do? What should I do? What should I do?”

“Charge it when we get back,” Oscar advises, still waiting for you to greet the older McLaren driver. Lando stands back amused. “As I was saying—”

“It’s due at midnight, dimwit!” It’s eleven-fifteen exactly. “I need to find a charger.”

“O-okay, lets just all calm down.” Lily turns to her boyfriend. “You always carry one with you, let her borrow it.” He winces. Only during races, sweetheart, not an important event. She rubs her temples, curly hair running against the wind. “Let’s just calm down!” she screeches.

“Not helping,” you wail. “That’s it—I’m leaving.”

Oscar is quick on his feet, already tugging you to stay firm. “We haven't even gotten to the speech!” A familiar fire rushes through your orbs, burning him along the way. I don’t give a shit about that right now! I need to turn this in.

“I’m sure Charlotte has one,” a friendly voice slides in, leaving you three to turn and face it. Lando awkwardly shrugs. “She’s really well organized, you know her. I’ll be right back.”

“Can I go with you?”

Blue eyes shift over, surprised to hear you speak. Anxiously, you bounce up and down against your heels. He gulps. “Of course.” He turns back to the Australian, who is busy comforting his girlfriend as if it was her grade on the line. “I’ll be right back.”

There’s a sort of tension that hangs steadily—or maybe he’s the only one who thinks so—but he tries his best to push past it. Of course, he was right, and Charlotte did have an extra charger, so that’s quite nice. As if this were the one and only resource of water in a hot desert night, you immediately take it from him, plugging it fiercely.

“You don’t know how grateful I am. You’re an absolute angel.” You’re quick to pick up where you left off. If you try hard enough, you can remember exactly what you need in order to have it done in a few minutes.

“Glad I could help.”

He should probably leave, he thinks. He’s done all he could, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a seat across from you, contently closing his eyes as the sound of your keys brings him to a deep sleep. The sound of a computer shutting gently is what nudges him awake. You grimace. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more quiet.”

Lando scrunches his eyes, rubs them for a couple of minutes. “It’s alright. You done?”

“Yes. Just in time—you really saved my ass, thank you again.”

A large hand waves you off, reclining against his comfortable spot. “You’re pretty dedicated to your work,” he mutters.

“I sort of have to be if I want to graduate on time and on top of my game. All those sleepless nights couldn’t have been for nothing.”

“Well, I don’t really know you that well…but I hope you pass,” he says. “Lando, by the way—you were probably too busy to catch it the first time.” He cocks his head to the side, a cheesy grin playing out. “And the second, as well.”

You giggle, shaking his humid hand. You don’t even seem to mind. “Third times a charm, no?”

“It appears it is.”

The objective was quite clear; get you to leave your rotting bed. It was astounding how long you could go without getting up. You always blame it on the fact that—I’m finally done with my most important courses and I can sleep all I want—and—I never wake you up, now do I?

So, naturally, when they march into your room, flashing a phone—you curl a full brow. “What am I looking at?”

Oscar smiles. “Save his number. Right now.”

Lando Norris—winks back at you, digits causing a migraine to stir. You huff, reaching out for the blankets once again. “And why would I do that?”

Lily hums. “I tried to stop him, I really did.”

Beady eyes peek demandingly. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s really just one date—”

“What?”

“And if it doesn’t work out—”

You sit up straight and agitated. “What?”

“...then you won’t ever have to see him again?” The Australian flinches at your cold stare. “He thinks this was your idea…because I told him it was, but…” He winces harder. “Don’t make me look bad and please go!”

Lily squeals when you fling up, hunting him down your flat. “I am going to kill you!”

The Brit beams sweetly at you, pinching his hand a couple of times to pump his circulation that was suddenly lacking. “I’m a bit surprised you wanted to see—”

“This was all Oscar’s idea.” He blinks and you purse your lips. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I think he does it because the third-wheel act is starting to get to him. Asshole,” you hiss at the thought of the rookie.

Lando coughs, playing with his bracelets. “You’re not dragging me into anything. I want to be here.” Now it’s your turn to stare back at him, caught off guard. He chuckles. “I take it you haven’t gone on a proper date in a while?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Nah,” he yawns. “Oscar told me.”

Pounding your fist against the table, you yelp. “That little—he wants to ruin my life, I see.” You force a tight smile. “I’ve been busy with work…and…I’m—” A flash goes off; you flinch. “A total catch. Like—total.”

Blue eyes flicker to the careful watchers surrounding the restaurant. “I don’t doubt that.”

“Good,” you respond, finally allowing yourself to rest easy. You raise a sharp brow. “Don’t you get tired of this?”

A few murmurs dance across the room, blinding lights continue. He sighs apologetically. “Right now I am. Let’s get out of here?”

You blush. “The bill…”

“My friend owns the restaurant. I’ll pay him later.” He grabs your hand. “Let's go.”

The moment you slip into his car, panic rises fast. “I don’t hook up on first dates,” you spit out. “It’s not in my nature, I-I-I would rather get to know the person—”

“Then let’s get to know one another. I wasn’t looking for anything like…that,” he whispers, timidly. His blue eyes burn against yours. “I only wanted the chance to get to know you now that you don’t have your nose pressed up against a screen.”

A kind smile. “Okay.”

The more you two converse inside his crowded vehicle, the more you find yourself giggling against the rich seat. “You’re quite the charmer, Mr. Norris.”

“Thank God,” he jokes. “It’s working.”

Another giggle erupts when you nod. You’re sure that you're flustered, burning bright red from all his pick up lines, but you don’t have the strength to look away. “I’m glad we got the chance to talk. For real this time,” you add, sheepishly.

“So am I.”

And something inside of him tells him this isn’t the last.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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byuntrash101 · 8 months

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realistic sex with seonghwa

seonghwa x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: welcome to this series. where i'll try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. u voted for our shinestar to be the first one but tell me in the comments/asks who u want to see next. enjoy ♡ disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.

in the relationship he's very loving and attentive. seonghwa is a romantic at heart. he loves big gestures. like expensive gifts and fancy dinner dates. he's a passionate man

(an aries ♈)

although he's not into pda (doesn't dread it as much as hongjoong though who he utterly despise it). he likes to hold you and kiss you but he would rather do it privately

but oh boy when he gets you alone. you will drown in the love. you will suffer the wrath of his aggressive hugs and kisses

he will literally kiss your cheeks so hard that it will scrunch up your face or hold you so thigh that you can't breathe. for him there's no other way of showing his love for him. it's ardent and burning.

(did I say an aries?)

talking of getting you alone *wink wonk*

a ✨neat boi✨

he will always prepare a towel to you clean up before you even truly starts

I feel like you guys are kissing and things get a little heated he would straight up ask if you tryna fuck

slkslskdlsdkdk

as soon as you say yes he hops off the bed/couch and goes to get the kit™ which includes towels, lube and toys

he might be prepared to clean up afterwards but thats only because he fully intends on getting n-a-s-t-y with you. before he cleans this man is going to make a mess

seonghwa is freaky (member of freak line with woo mingi and joong even if I think he's the less freaky out of the four). he plays coy but i feel like the demon takes possession of him when he’s on stage or in bed.

he lives for the applause that's why he gives me the vibe of a service top. he usually doms but he will occasionally sub if his partner is into it.

if he subs that would mean he truly trusts his partner and he's ready to give up control. which I feel is something that is difficult for him to do

he will like to be on the bottom and seeing you ride him.

he's more into praises than degradation but I feel like he would enjoy a healthy blend of both

"my good fuck toy", "you're being so good to me", "what a good little slut"

nothing too mean. he will surely enjoy being bossed around. (cfr that fancall where he literally folds because op tells him not to make her wait). he will enjoy when you give directions. command him to get in his knees for you, or tell him to open his mouth

but wether he subs or doms he will always enjoy some biting. he loves loves loves when you're close to him and you sink your teeth in the crook of his slender neck. he enjoys the slight pain

but most of the times he will top/dom. that's his comfort zone and it shows.

like I said earlier that man lives for your approval and your recognition so he will do anything to satisfy you.

and he will take 👏 his 👏 sweet 👏 time.

quickies aren't for him. he's a perfectionist. when he does something he does it 100%. he gives his all or he doesn't see the point in even starting… he'd rather wait until you have more time.

seonghwa loves and I means loves to give oral. he's oral giver line with mingi.

he's ready to spend hours on knees head buried in your pussy ignoring his sore jaw and painfully hard cock just to make sure that when he stops your legs and trembling and you've soaked the bed all the way to the matress.

and the worst (best) part is that he's far from done

it's only the beginning of the fun

there's no point in changing the rhythm so once again when he finally slides into you he takes his time. he will coat himself with your juices grazing his tip along your folds and extra sensitive clit before pushing it in very slowly.

all the while being very quiet. barely exhaling a small sigh of pleasure because one big thing about hwa… he loves sounds. he has a huge auralism kink. so he will stay quiet just to get even hornier on the way you sound.

he wants to heart it all in great detail. (the perfectionism kicks in once more)

he wants to hear your pussy gushing out more nectar for him as he slowly fills you up

he wants to hear how you hold your breath while he gives that first slow stroke that you've been begging him for what feels like hours.

then sighs in pleasure as he reaches the bottom of you.

there he will bend down to kiss you.

sloppy kisses. very sloppy. with lots of tongue. he wants to share your taste (and realust of his hard work) with you

that's why I think hwa's favourite position is missionary. he can hear better and he can kiss you while fucks you.

he loves to make you moan into his mouth. he wants to swallow your every sound of pleasure he wants it all.

and he won't be satisfied until he makes you cum at least twice (and i insist thats the bare minimum). because hwa is an over achiever and also a good guy and as goes the famous saying: nice guys finish last.

it's only when you're satisfied (read: exhausted and worn out to the bone) that he will finaly cum too.

he doesn't have favourite spot he likes to cum anywhere on or in you. well at least that's what he says because I feel like he loves to finish inside or all over your pussy.

he loves to see how good he ruined you and messy your cute little cunt got for him. pulsing, weeping, creaming. all swollen and red.

he loves to know he's the one that made you like this.

hwa is possessive it's less on the nose then joong but still

also you remember when I said freaky?

he's def the type that goes down on you for sloppy seconds after he's finished. if he's feeling extra generous (sadistic) he will drag out yet an other final orgasm out of your exhausted little cunt. just to have the pleasure of hearing you whine louder and squirm under him. pining your thighs open while he tastes himself on your folds.

with hwa it's not over until it's over

and finally he will share the delicious blend of your burning love for one an other with you in a passionate kiss. this time around the passion is more controlled less carnal and more romantic. he wants to show you again how much he loves you and this kiss is the prefect way

right after of course he's running around the place to bring you water and clean you up

maybe even washing you up in the shower if you aren't too tired and you can still stand (9 times out of 10 you can't) if you are too tired then he'll simply let you sleep in his arms (and never in the wet spot. if only there's one. chances are he prepared well enough and there's none)

like I said a neat boi <33

who should i post next?

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

realistic sex with mingi, with yunho, with wooyoung | ateez masterlist | navigation

#seonghwa smut #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa fanfic #kpop smut #ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa x you #ateez hard hours #seonghwa hard hours #seonghwa headcanons

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souliebird · 1 month

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[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

warning: canon typical violence || vomit

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”

You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease.

It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye.

You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt.

But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask?

No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you.

As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.

You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”

She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”

Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?”

You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem.

“How does your tummy hurt?”

She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate.

Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her.

Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can.

You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.

You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS.

It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too.

A lesson for the future.

Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”

She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse.

In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes.

Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing.

“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life.

Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room.

“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there.

Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”

“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”

“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped.

“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”

“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply.

You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte.

But you don’t.

You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.

She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”

“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”

To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”

You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”

She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.

“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid.

“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”

You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.

You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”

----

You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake. The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted. So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers.

There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are.

Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring.

You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”

“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”

Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.

As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?”

Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”

Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”

“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.

Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”

You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”

Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.”

That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”

Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more.

“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.”

“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night.

As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.”

“Okay, okay.”

You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips.

“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response.

“Not icky.”

“How is your tummy?”

Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse.

“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”

You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning.

Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.

So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”

Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way.

Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.

You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it.

It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.

Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.

You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it.

You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all.

You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down.

Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you.

You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile.

Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”

She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck.

You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you.

All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.

You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.

There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.

“Mommy!”

The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you.

You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek.

Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can.

There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.

You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.

You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.

You can’t get up.

You can’t get to Minnie.

You can’t save your daughter.

There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.

You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts.

“DADDY!”

Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter.

“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.

“Mommy!”

The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.

“MOMMY!”

“MOMMY!!”

---

:3C

---

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath

@allllium

@anehkael

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you

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livingemkayde · 11 months

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neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: Rated 18+, CONSIDER THIS YOUR COMMUNITY LABEL minors please dni, smut, age gap, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, praise kink, light choking, dom!joel, dirty talk, pet names. can you tell i have a thing for car sex. Probably more but…yk.

a/n: im so grateful you guys are giving me the opportunity to share my writing with a huge community. I cant thank you enough. This has been an outlet for me emotionally that i never anticipated. I love writing and i love love love reading your feedback. just for all the love you get double the smut. thank you again. please enjoy.

if u wanna listen to a song while reading, Let The Light In by ldr was playing while i wrote this lol. apple music spotify

wc: 5k (jesus)

this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:

part i part ii part iii

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

He pumps his cock with your slick on his hand, moving so it's trained at your aching entrance — his hand shoots out above your head and braces himself on the car door. “Fuckin’ in the car like teenagers,” he grunts, running his tip along your clit. “Please Joel,” you whine. You don’t know if you can take it any longer. Joel squeezes the tip in, your walls accept him graciously, the desire to be filled overwhelming your senses. He slides in slowly. You whine for him to go faster. “Need you — please, just —” “Shut up — fuck — not gonna last,” he groans into the crook of your neck.

You try not to think about Joel — somewhere in the back of your mind you know it’s dangerous that he occupies so much of your brain at all times.

But you really can’t help yourself.

Especially when his stares linger a bit too long.

Or when your dad makes burgers and Joel’s thigh grazes against yours under the table.

And definitely not when his hands find your waist when everyone is shuffling around the kitchen, putting dishes away.

And it might physically hurt to ignore him when Sarah convinces you to run into the ocean at midnight and he’s waiting with towels for you on the deck — his hands brushing your ass when he wraps the towel around your body.

You thought you might have been doing an okay job at it, until you find yourself outside his bedroom door, contemplating knocking. You really didn’t want to seem desperate. But the tug in your lower stomach sends you forward, bracing your hand to knock.

You look to your left, Sarah's room is at the end of the hall and your dad’s is around the corner. You tiptoed through the dark hallway to get some water and you couldn’t help but walk past his door — to your surprise the light was on — seeping out under the door into the hallway.

You hear him moving. And the light turns off at your feet. You gasp and move back. But he opens the door, and catches you outside his room.

He meets you with a curious face. You read the silent question etched into it.

What are you doin’?

You shake your head, attempting to convey an overall I wasn’t doing anything vibe but he gives you a knowing look that makes you blush.

He nods his head towards the stairs and moves past you.

You follow his figure. He’s wearing pants that hug his hips and a t-shirt. He’s very simple. Yet he’s very Joel, and you can’t take your eyes off him.

He leads you into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge, you sit at the table.

When he joins you, it’s almost like you’re both too scared to make any noise, you sit in silence, watching him as he tips the beer, sipping it, while keeping his eyes trained on you.

You aren’t dressed for the occasion, and it's a bit cold, but you don’t think he minds.

“I was just getting some water,” you manage to get out, your voice a bit hoarse.

“Sure,” he replies, tipping his beer towards you, chuckling a bit.

“What? I was,” you say defensively.

“Your room was the other way,” he notes, shrugging.

You blush and try to hide your face.

“Whatever.”

“S’alright, baby,” he says coolly — like his words don’t shoot down right to your core, “Just didn’t know you were so needy.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble, a laugh crinkling your eyes, “You’d like that,” you bite.

He laughs too.

“Maybe I would,” he says.

A few beats pass. There’s enough tension at the table you could cut it with a knife.

“You wanna tell me?”

“Not really,” you tease him with a smirk, “I was just surprised you were awake is all,” you say when he doesn’t respond, leaning back in your chair.

He lets out a huff and downs the rest of his beer.

“Could say the same ‘bout you.”

“I’ve got some things on my mind,” you say sheepishly, teasing.

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“What things?”

You stand, stalking towards him, he parts his legs to let you slot yourself in between his thighs. He looks up at you.

“Don’t be an ass,” you mumble while looking at his lips, “You know what things.”

“I don’t play guessin’ games.”

“I’m not playing any games,” you quip back.

Something in your tone switches the conversation.

It sort of stops Joel in his tracks. He looks up at you, and then his hand finds your hip, pushing against the bone. His fingers dip into your shirt, rubbing over the bruise he pushed into your skin from earlier — he bends to place a chaste kiss to the bruise. It makes your breath hitch. You think he might push you away, or tease you for being bratty with him. But he looks up at you with caramel brown eyes.

“On your knees then,” he says, stone-cold.

Your eyes widen, and you look around the kitchen in shock even though you know you’re alone with Joel.

He looks up at you — maybe a little shocked that you comply so quickly without putting up a fight. But you were a goner the second you walked by his room and your body is dropping in between his legs before you know any better.

Your knees hit the floor and you sit back on your heels, settling in between his feet.

He groans and pushes forward to rest his elbows on his knees, looking down at you. One hand grabs your face, tilting it up so you’re looking at him. The hold on your jaw squishes your cheeks a bit.

“You want it?” he says.

Your eyes intuitively look down to his zipper.

You nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you let out as best you can with his hand on your jaw.

“Fuckin’ dirty girl,” Joel groans. His hand keeps your jaw in place, the other undoes his belt and frees his cock.

“Thought ‘bout me all night, huh?”

You nod out of habit.

“What I just fuckin’ say?” he shakes his head, the hold on your jaw comes down to your throat, squeezing gently.

“Yes — yes,” you say quickly.

You look down to his cock again, the tip of it gleaming with precum. It sends a white heat straight to the apex at your thighs.

“Please,” you whimper, looking up at him, “Can I?”

Joel can’t resist you. You both know that much.

“Alright,” he drops his hand from your throat. “C’mon princess.”

He leans back slightly. You spring to your knees, not waiting for his permission, and take the tip of his cock into the heat of your mouth. The saltiness of it hits your tongue and you whimper around his length. It makes him groan.

“Shit.” you hear him curse above you.

He gathers your hair, raking it up into a mess at the top of your head. You suck and lick his tip, teasing him a bit before he gets impatient and pushes your head down. You don’t mind his advances, bracing your tongue for his length.

But he’s big.

Bigger than the few you’ve had — and you choke when he hits the back of your throat. You brace yourself on his thigh, trying to take the little he’s pushing you down on.

“You can take it baby, c’mon. Slow.”

His words shoot straight down to your cunt. You try but you’re not used to his length.

“Chokin’ on it, c’mere —” he makes a move to pull his cock from your mouth but you whimper and slide in more across your tongue. He groans, “— fuck, baby.”

You want to take more. You know you can take more.

“Doin’ so good,” he grunts when you swallow more of him, “Fuck — you —”

Joel's hand holding your hair moves to your face. He runs his thumb across your cheek. It makes you look up at him through your lashes. His praise rings in your ears, and you can feel your hot slick dribble down your thighs.

He stares at you taking him — mouth slack with lust. His rich drawl, velvet, coaxes you down further.

“Goddamn angel —” he moans, “— so fuckin’ perfect.”

His head tips back in pleasure when you take what doesn't fit in your mouth into your hand.

He wipes the tears that spring from your efforts away with his thumb, looking at you kinda sympathetically.

“Attagirl, fuckin’ made f’me, baby,” he whispers. You look up at him again, because it sounds like he might actually mean that. You press your thighs together at the thought.

His words become quiet whimpers mixed with groans as you bob your head, steadily taking more — replacing your hand with your mouth.

“In your fuckin’ throat,” he hisses out when your nose brushes against the mess of hair at the base.

He slots his fingers through your hair, his hands, frantically touching you anywhere he can scramble to.

When Joel goes silent you know he’s close. His soft breath becomes pants above you.

When he grips your hair hard, you know he’s teetering on the edge and who are you to deny him?

His hips slightly cant towards your mouth, chasing his high, and he spurts down your throat in hot succession. He lets out a string of curses followed by your name. It makes you blush as you swallow.

You release his cock from your mouth, sinking back onto your heels as you rest your cheek on his thigh. His breath rises and falls and you watch the place where his heart should be rhythmically moving.

“Don't fuckin’ look at me like that,” he says, shaking his head and trying to avert his eyes. You look up at him, lazy, the slick between your thighs is enough to put a tortured look through your brows.

His thumb wipes your chin, some cum dragging across your swollen lips, and sticks his thumb back into your mouth as you suck it clean.

“Jesus, baby.”

“What?” you smile back at him.

Joel looks down at you, resting against his knee, in between his legs, your eyes lidded with lust and exhaustion.

He bends down to kiss your lips, and then your forehead, whispering into your skin —

“You’re killin’ me.”

Everyone takes it easy the next morning, Sarah dips into the ocean in the afternoon, you help your dad with lunch.

It's uneventful but it's nice.

Your dad suggests going to the boardwalk for dinner, which you all agree to, Sarah wanted to check out the rides there.

You slip into a dress, your dad said the restaurant was a bit fancy. You’re just grateful you brought a dress in the first place. You meet everyone downstairs, Joel looks up at you descending which makes you laugh a bit. It’s sort of like prom when you first come down the stairs and your date is waiting for you. Or like he’s prince charming and you’re Cinderella.

But you get snapped out of that trance quickly.

“Ready to go kiddo?” your dad says, moving towards the entrance.

You smile at him, Sarah comes to your side, linking arms and goes on about how there's a ferris wheel and carousel on the boardwalk, across from the beachfront restaurants.

You all pile into the truck, Joel in the driver’s seat. It's a short walk but it’ll be easier to drive with so many people.

Your dad was right, the restaurant is a bit fancy. And it feels like you’re suffocating when you sit down across from Joel, Sarah at your side. He looks up at you — you blush and smile to yourself, opening the menu. It’s far too formal for the four of you, but it’s a nice change. And you like seeing Joel in a button down.

Dinner drowns on — you aren’t really paying attention to much because Joel’s foot keeps bumping into yours. Maybe it’s accidental. Or maybe it's a silent plea.

Sarah’s voice snaps you out of it.

“Please dad?” she asks, having cleaned her plate.

You remember them talking in the truck, Sarah saying something about meeting a few friends her age on the beach.

“They down near the rides?” Joel says, gruff.

“Yes, dad. Like I’ve told you a million times,” she rolls her eyes and Joel laughs a bit, waving her off with a twenty and telling her to be safe and get back by midnight.

The two men turn their attention back to you.

Joel’s foot knocks into yours again and you shoot him a look — though he doesn’t seem to be paying it much attention. You’d be lying if you said the uncertainty of his touches left you completely unbothered.

You finish dinner with a coffee, the men have their drinks.

You can't really think about much else until your dad's voice snaps you out of it.

“So, what do you think?”

But he's not talking to you. He's talking to Joel.

“What do I think ‘bout what?” He asks.

“Dude—” your dad is sipping at his whiskey, “Theresa?”

Doesn’t seem like appropriate conversation when you’re present but that doesn’t really cross your mind because who the fuck is Theresa?

“Uh, yeah she’s nice, man,” Joel says awkwardly.

Nice?

“Nice?” your dad scoffs, echoing your sentiment.

Your dad looks over at you — “Been tryin’ to set Joel up with a lady,” he says, explaining. But it feels more like a punch in the face. Your eyes widen, you choke a little on your coffee.

“Oh,” you say. Joel doesn’t meet your eye, “She from the neighborhood?” you inquire, thinking about the woman from the barbecue.

Your dad nods.

“She’s a teacher,” he says. “You probably met her at the barbecue.”

He turns back to Joel.

“She likes you dude,” your dad says. “Think she’d be good for you.”

That feels less like a punch in the gut and more like you got roundhouse kicked in the face and slammed into the ground. You try not to let it get to you.

“Just don’t know if I’m lookin’ right now,” is all he says in reply. You try not to look at him, but your brain subconsciously makes an effort for you, peering up at him through your lashes. He catches your eye quickly — and drops it in just as much time.

Your dad grunts in response, waving down the waiter to get the bill.

“What ever happened to that Liam kid?” he says, talking to you now.

“Oh,” you reply kinda absentmindedly. You haven't really thought of Liam in a couple days. His texts remain unopened in your phone.

“Nothing,” you shrug.

“Hm, nice kid though,” your dad claps Joel on the back, “Ain’t you think so?” he says, talking to Joel now.

“Sure,” Joel lets out in his rich drawl.

Another tap on your foot.

Joel’s eyes stare into yours but he doesn’t look angry — it's more of an expression you can’t read.

He isn’t mad right?

“Yeah,” you say, the conversation dying down.

Your dad doesn’t see your stolen glances.

“Why don’t you go with Joel, kiddo?” he says, fishing bills out of his wallet.

“What?” You ask, shocked.

“Need to handle some work-things back at the house, but I heard the boardwalk here is nice at night,” he nods over to the exit.

You look at Joel tentatively. He nods towards the exit, giving your dad a handshake while you follow him outside.

The cool air hits you. You shiver a bit, wrapping your arms around yourself.

You fall into a steady stroll towards the boardwalk. You can see the lights from the ferris wheel a couple hundred feet ahead of you, the ocean water shining under the moonlight as you walk along the coast.

You look over at Joel, his hands digging into his pockets.

“Good dinner?” you ask, smiling.

“Mhm,” he says.

You settle into the night, walking towards the carousel lighting up the center of the boardwalk.

“C’mon, Joel,” you say, looking towards the small line waiting to get on. The lights shine a white-yellow — lighting up his eyes in the darkness. Kids scream. Adults laugh. It’s a bit too perfect.

He looks at you and huffs. Almost like a no is already trained on his lips from habit. But when he looks at you, he stops himself.

“Alright, c’mon,” he grabs you by your hand, interlacing your fingers and steps in line.

The previous ride ends quickly, Joel steps on the platform first, helping you up, extending his hand.

You both sit on one of the benches meant for parents. He drops an arm around you, like it’s second nature. You snuggle into it.

“Haven’t been on one of these in years,” he says when the music starts and the platform begins to spin. Some kids run by, trying to claim the best animal.

“Me too,” you say in reply.

You remember the last time you’d been on a carousel. Your dad and Joel organized a day trip to the state fair — though it feels like forever ago — during high school.

“State fair, remember?” You say, hesitant.

“Yup,” he squeezes your shoulder.

“Didn’t think you ‘member,” he continues.

“Of course I do,” you look at him, he meets your eye. “You gave me my first sip of beer.”

You wonder if that might strike a nerve. It’s more than a loaded statement — a bomb already counting down.

He huffs a laugh.

“Now look at you,” he says.

“Yeah, all grown up or something,” you say, teasingly.

“Or something’,” he echoes, with a huff, not meeting your eye.

A few moments pass.

You see a particularly pretty horse out of the corner of your eye. You begin to stand on the moving platform, Joel scrambles for your waist.

“The hell are you doin’?” he grabs you, standing.

You look back at him, entranced by the light circling his face. It looks perfect — he looks perfect. Picturesque. Hallmark. Like it could be a movie scene. Maybe in another life he would kiss you — with the horses spinning around you, the night sky staring down when he kisses you like nothing else matters.

But you know Joel.

And you know putting his arm around you was pushing his boundaries.

“C’mon,” you pull him towards the horse that caught your eye.

He grunts but follows you.

You get on, both legs on one side, stumbling a bit on the way there. But you’re having fun, and Joel is here and he doesn’t want to leave.

He stands next to the horse, looking up at you.

“Havin’ fun?”

“Loads,” you smile at him, he smirks back, hiding his face when you touch the spot between his neck and his shoulder, squeezing.

“You look pretty,” he cuts through the music.

You try to hide your shock.

Pretty.

It's not like this with other guys. Sure, they've called you pretty, some even called you beautiful. But with Joel, you feel like he really means it.

It also shoots down to the white heat building in your stomach.

“You clean up nice, Miller,” you say with a blush.

The ride ends, you both settle, walking through the boardwalk. A breeze rushes through, it sends a chill up your spine.

You wrap your arms around yourself to trap some heat even though your efforts are fruitless.

But Joel notices.

“Got a jacket in the truck. C’mon,” he says, turning to walk back to the truck parked near the beach.

You follow him.

It might even be on instinct, but you snake your hand through his, interlocking your fingers while your other hand holds onto his arm where the crease of his elbow is.

You don’t see him smile.

When you get to the truck he opens the back door, leaning in to grab his jacket out of the backseat. He wraps it around your body. The smell instantly fills your nostrils and shoots down to your core. It’s his heavy work jacket and it’s entirely too big for your small frame but you like it — love it.

When you finish putting it on, he looks at you, still standing by the open car door. He leans back against the seat cushion, looking at you with crossed arms.

“A little big,” you giggle, showing him your hands which disappear into the canvas sleeves.

“Looks good on you,” he says with a smile.

You walk towards him, he wraps his arms around you.

“Thanks,” you say into his chest.

Joel hums in response.

A breeze pushes on your legs and you can feel your nipples pebble against your dress — you think Joel can feel it too if his sudden stiffness is any indication.

You adjust in his arms, slotting yourself between his legs.

You can feel him.

“Kiss me,” you say, looking up at him.

“We’re in public,” he doesn’t look down at you, but you can see the muscle in his jaw tick. You don’t know why he’s being withholding. No one is nearby — Joel’s truck is the only one left in the parking lot.

“Please?”

“Not now.”

His tone might suggest he doesn’t actually want to kiss you. But his cock pressing hard against your stomach tells a different story.

“Joel,” you whine, wriggling against him.

“Quit,” he says.

You try to stop moving. But the feeling of him, hard, against you, makes your cunt throb.

He stops you before you make any decisions.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“Know you’re thinkin’ of somethin’,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Needy,” he complains.

You’re about to drop it. But his hand snakes around your waist under his jacket. The movement hikes your dress up, his hand resting on your low back.

You are — needy.

But you just need him.

“Joel,” you say, giving him a warning.

“What, baby?” he says, teasing.

“Please.”

Not a question — a statement.

A plea.

Joel looks down at you for a couple seconds. Then he taps your ass towards the inside of the truck.

“Get in,” he moves so you can crawl in first, spinning around when you get to the other side of the truck’s backseat, shucking off his jacket and hiking up your dress. He crawls in after you, shutting the door.

He’s quick with his belt, undoing his jeans in a frantic fashion — pulling his tucked shirt out of his pants. His cock is free before you have the chance to pull down your panties.

Joel pushes your dress up more, revealing your underwear. He plays with the straps a bit, before pushing them to the side roughly. The sudden movement causes them to rip a little.

“Joel!” you say, as he grabs your panties and stuffs them into his pocket.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he pants, sucking a mark into your hip.

His fingers find your core as you lay down along the back seat, opening your legs, your thighs covered with slick. Joel’s thick fingers slide through your folds. His breath hitches and he lets out a curse to find you soaking wet, staining your legs.

“Fuck baby, you didn’t…?” he trails off, referring to after you had his cock in your mouth and he told you to get some rest.

You shake your head. “Waiting for you,” you pant, breathless.

“Christ,” he groans, playing a thumb on your clit as you writhe under him. “This all for me?”

“Yes — Joel — you,” you say through moans.

He pumps his cock with your slick on his hand, moving so it's trained at your aching entrance — his hand shoots out above your head and braces himself on the car door.

“Fuckin’ in the car like teenagers,” he grunts, running his tip along your clit.

“Please Joel,” you whine. You don’t know if you can take it any longer.

Joel squeezes the tip in, your walls accept him graciously, the desire to be filled overwhelming your senses.

He slides in slowly. You whine for him to go faster.

“Need you — please, just —”

“Shut up — fuck — not gonna last,” he groans into the crook of your neck.

“God—” you moan when he slides home, his hips pressing into your thighs.

Joel can feel you pulsing around him. You’re dangerously close already.

The windows gather condensation from your combined pants.

You try to angle your hips up to meet him, fucking him back as he thrusts slowly, but that makes him groan more.

“Jesus Christ, baby,” he says, his thick drawl wrapping all through the truck, stoking the fire burning in your low belly.

You want more — no — need more.

You push his chest back. He looks at you confused but compiles. He sits back in the seats, you straddle him, pushing his cock towards your entrance.

You look at him. He stares back in awe.

“Baby—” you cut him off by sinking down on his cock, the tip sneaking past your entrance. He lets out a strangled groan.

You take him, inch by inch, feeling his girth stretch you out in an entirely different way at this angle.

“Fuck, feel so good, Joel,” you settle on top of him, both of your chests panting against each other as you grind your hips a bit. “So deep,” you moan out, cockdrunk.

His hands find your waist and hips, begging you to move — to do anything. You look down to his jacket on the seat. His work jacket. That he wears around the neighborhood. You’re not sure why but your dad’s comments about Theresa enter your mind.

“Do you have a crush on anyone in the neighborhood?”

“What?” he asks with a grunt. “I’m literally inside you.”

“I know, but…”

You shift a bit in his lap, the movement makes both of you moan out.

“Said she’d be good for you,” you manage to get out.

“Don’t really remember her,” he whispers, trying to push his hips into you. “‘N don’t agree.”

“You don’t like her? — ah —” you start rocking on his hips, chasing a high that's settled in your stomach on instinct.

“No,” he fucks into you, chasing his own.

“Then what do you think?”

His eyes dart up to yours, holding your gaze for the first time tonight, not breaking it or looking away.

“Think I like you,” he breathes into your cheek.

He says it with such a genuine tone even though he’s deep inside you. It makes your stomach do a flip, finding the urge to ride him incessant through your loud thoughts of what could be. When he says things like that it’s hard to ignore it any longer. When he looks at you like that you know you’re completely done for.

“Fuck —” you say, clenching around him.

You ride him, the notion of his words settling in your chest and pushing you towards your release quicker than you thought possible.

You’re coming before he can respond.

“Oh my — fuck, Joel,” you whine.

“That’s it, attagirl — fuck,” he goes silent, chasing his own high as you relax around him.

His hands urge you to continue moving. He kisses you, like a man starved. All your silent begging through the night erupting with one kiss as you come down from your high. It's like he was telling you at the restaurant — be patient and at the carousel — just wait.

Your stomach tightens at the feeling of his breath on your neck, sucking and biting and just smelling your skin.

You continue to ride him through your post orgasmic haze. He chases his own release like he's done the whole night.

“Oh baby — I —” he groans when you nip at his earlobe.

“Please Joel, wanna feel you,” you whisper into his ear.

He groans at that, pushing you down by your hips faster, you grind against him, a piece of clay destined to be molded to his body perfectly.

“Jesus — fuck,” he groans, wrapping his arms around you, sinking his teeth into your neck, and coming inside you with hot hands running over your back.

When he relaxes under you, he presses soft kisses to your temple, you tremble from the thought of his hot slick oozing out of you through the night.

“Did so good for me, such a good girl,” he whispers into the dark truck.

You slump against him, he holds onto you.

His words ring in your ears.

Think I like you.

You smile when you look at him.

“What?” he asks, a smirk on his lips.

“You said you like me,” you chide, teasing him.

“Shut up,” he breathes, laughing a bit.

“Don’t worry,” you kiss him, “I like you too.”

taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:

@nostalxgic @iluvurfather

@thatgirlpeaches @prettyangelsthing @loreleiintheskye @ghostofjoharvelle @vickywallace @nevertrustapanda16 @crocodiile @lovely-ateez @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @expir3dl0v3 @koshkaj-blog @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @smol-beb @bbyanarchist @evyiione @dlwrish @mishala005 @mxtokko @faeriemel @caatheeriinee07 @virgils-left-hoodie-string @sorry--for-the-mess

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

— PAIRING: 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

— SUMMARY: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 - 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤’𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞?

— WARNINGS: 𝐕𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐣𝐨𝐛, 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞��𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.

— WORDS: 2.8k

— A/N: I know this song is so hyped rn, but it's really so perfect for Patrick: the vibe, the lyrics, the melody. Also, I want to drop here a link of my favorite American Psycho edit with this song. Thanks to all who read my fics and support me! I love you all and I hope you like it!😘

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST], [SERIES MASTERLIST], [support] 💗

The sound of flowing water echoed against the walls of Patrick’s stylish bathroom–this time you were taking a morning routine shower together.

With careful gentle touches, Bateman was cleaning every inch of your body, paying special attention to all your beautiful curves as he couldn’t get enough of them, petting and squeezing them again and again.

“P-Patirck…” You whimpered from how his large palms were playing with your boobs.

“Do ya like the smell of this soap?” he asked, rubbing a pink foam into your skin. “I think it suits you, such a sweet scent… Just like you, Cupcake.”

Snuggling into you from behind, you gasped as you felt his hard cock between your folds. Panting, Patrick continued to worship your shaking frame, his hips brushed against yours making a slight friction that made you close your eyes.

“It smells amazing… Thank you, Daddy… You care so much about me.” You murmured in the most natural way you could sound.

“Mhhm,” humming into your ear, he attacked your neck, leaving notable hickeys behind. “I know, sweetheart.”

Aroused as hell, Patrick tugged on your earlobe, nibbling it a bit, and then, he turned you around to face him, pressing you against the wall.

Looking at him from below, you bit your lip in anticipation of his next steps but his body language spoke for itself; the way his fully erected dick twitched whenever he watched the water streams flowing over your blushing pussy–was fair enough for you to knew what would come next.

“Cupcake,” he gasped languidly, planting his hands on your shoulders. “I wanna feel your mouth.”

Gasping, you let him pull you in a passionate kiss before you got down on your knees, leaving a trail of small hickeys over his abs and pubis. Timidly, you made a few kitten licks along his huge dick, cupping his tense sac as you took his blushing tip into your mouth.

“A-ahh, fuck…” he breathed out, towering over you with his hands pressed against the wall behind. “My obedient girl…”

“Mm-hmm, D-Daddy.” You muffled, feeling his cock sliding in and out, as he pushed himself further into your mouth.

“How it feels, baby?”

“It… m-mmmm, it feels… M-mm, amazing. A-awh!” You yelped around his hard flesh when he suddenly thrusted into your throat, yanking on your hair and setting up the pace so his tip was ramming you from the inside and there was nothing gentle about it.

Drooling like a waterfall, you were about to gag from the way he was drilling your mouth–you even had to cling to his muscular hips, signalling him to stop.

“What? Already tired, slut?” He asked, slapping your lips with his stony cock as he was watching you from above.

Barely breathing, you looked up at him to reply: “It’s just too much for me, so far…” Patrick let out a devilish chuckle, gripping your chin and forcing you to open your mouth again. “You desperately need more practice, Cupcake. As a wonderful Daddy, I can’t leave it without my attention.”

With that said, he pressed your face against his groin, making you suckle his heavy balls while he was slowly stroking his cock. Groaning, Bateman rolled his hips, pinning you against the wall with his weight as he fixed you by the back of your head, jerking himself off faster by the second.

“Ah, fuck… Suck me out, like a good girl you’re.”

“Mm-mh, Daddy,” you whimpered, lapping at his tense sac and cupping his ass for support. “Y-you… Mm-hm, you taste so delicious.”

“Of course, I do,” smirking, he suddenly paused, leaning down to grasp your neck, squeezing it a bit, coaxing you to look at him. “And I do like it when you say such things.”

With one simple motion, he forced you to stand up, pressing you against his massive body and giving your cheek a long hot lick.

“A-ah, Patrick…”

“What do ya want, (Y/N)?”

“Everything you’re gonna give me, Daddy…” You gasped, feeling dizzy from the tension in your lower body.

Satisfied with your words, Patrick kissed your lips with no rush, tasting himself on them, and that only turned him on even more. Panting, he let go of your neck only to cup your needy pussy and rub his thumb against your blushing clit.

“A-aww, p-please…” You trembled so badly under his touch, feeling nothing but an unbearable need for him to be inside you.

“Look at you–so desperate for my cock,” he suckled a red mark on your neck, while his long fingers were brushing over your folds before they slipped into your cunt with no resistance. “You want to be fucked like a dumb nasty whore?” With a sharp breath, you knew–there was no way to turn back, if you started this game you had to pretend till the last moment. “Do whatever you want with me, Daddy…”

Trapped between his muscular arms, you closed your eyes from a heady feeling–the warm steam around you was making the current situation even worse as you were literally losing your mind. Especially when he turned you around, stimulating your little tip along with fingering your throbbing pussy.

“O-ohh… God!” You moaned loudly as your hands were frantically gliding around the wall before Patrick gripped them with his big one and restricted them above your head.

“It’s just Patrick, sweetheart.” He groaned into your ear, speeding up his ministrations and covering you with his brawny frame.

“A-awww, I’m… I’m about to c-cum, a-ah…”

“So do it, Cupcake,” he tightened his grip on your wrists to keep you in one place as he was twisting and curling his digits inside you, hitting your most sensitive spot. “This is what ya were begging for?”

You didn’t respond as your mouth froze in a muffled wail from the way your inner channel spasmed around his long fingers; it was nearly painful as Patrick didn’t stop even for a second, fucking you through your orgasm, drinking in all the pitiful sounds you were making.

“You’re such a perfect fuckdoll…” his voice sounded mostly like a feral snarl. “Do ya still want my cock, slutty brat?”

Being pressed against the wall, you were shaking from reaching your high, barely standing on your feet but despite all of these–you spread your legs wider for him and murmured: “Yes, D-Daddy… Ruin me, use my… Use my pussy…”

Thank God, he couldn’t see your face right now cause you felt yourself utterly embarrassed. It was so degrading, so miserable–this thought was killing you from the inside. And yet it felt so delicious–being pressed against his perfect body, marked here and there by him, inhaling the fresh scent of his skin… Even when he shoved his fingers into your mouth to clean them up–you took them with pure pleasure. This is madness–you quickly admitted to yourself before you sensed his swollen tip, poking at your wet entrance.

“My sweet Cupcake,” Bateman bit the nape of your neck, licking it after and slowly sheathing himself inside your cunt. “A-ah… When you told me you’ll never fall for me, did you expect yourself to be trapped beneath me, moaning and trembling like a fucking whore? Tell me, baby… I want to know!”

And then he lost it as he rocked into you with a ragged deep thrust, coaxing your inner walls to squeeze around him tightly and all the air stuck in your lungs; you were biting your lips almost hard enough to draw blood each time his beefy cock was brushing against your cervix.

Consumed by these insane sensations, you only whimpered: “N-no! I didn’t… A-ahh…”

“No?” Patrick rejoined in a raspy voice, rocking his hips into yours even harsher–you felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “Try to think again…”

It was so much easier to say it than to do it, cause your mind was at its limits and you couldn’t really think about anything but his thick dick, sliding perfectly inside you. And Patrick perfectly knew it, wrapping his hands around your waist as he looked down to where your bodies were connected, squeezing your ass from time to time.

In order to avoid answering his question you mirrored his typical behaviour and skipped the conversation, moaning loudly as you moved your hips towards his. “Awww-Daddy…So deep! A-ahh it’s so deep!”

“A-ah, your true nature has finally revealed…” he grunted, giving your butt some vigorous slaps, pounding into you in a merciless pace. “Your innocent appearance-ahh, is just a mask… With what you’re trying to hide a pure filth inside of you, but you failed… Am I right, huh? My slutty nasty liar?”

All these dirty words were only encouraging you to whimper louder, arching your back, so he could fuck you even harder. “Pat…Patrick, please…fill me with your seed…A-aahh.”

“Mmmhm, you think you deserve it?”

“P-please Daddy!” you turned your head to meet his eyes, impaling yourself onto his huge shaft. “I want your cream s-so badly, a-aaaww…”

Trembling, you squeaked with how his large palms cupped your breasts, squeezing them greedily, while his sneaky fingers were pinching your so hard nipples

“Cupcake, I need you to touch yourself,” his demanding hoarse voice made your knees buckle, as you felt yourself like a malleable dough. “C’mon, touch yourself like Daddy taught you…”

With your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you submitted to his will, rubbing circular movements into your oversensitive clit, while your other hand was desperately clawing at his muscular bicep. Soon, all the surrounding sounds stopped existing for you as your vision turned white–you were shaking erratically in his arms, and you couldn't even hear yourself moaning wildly, so he even had to shush you with his mouth.

“Ahh-Fuck! What an insatiable little whore,” Patrick growled, thrusting into you slovenly but passionately. “Can’t believe you were hiding this from me that long…”

Patrick was going to say something else, but all the words turned out to be a loud feral groan as he was spilling his warm cum into your throbbing cunt, squeezing your ass painfully.

“P-Patrick… It h-hursts!”

“Aah...Baby, shush!”

He suddenly pressed your face against the wall hard, almost splitting your lower lip. Shocked, you had to hold your breath as you were trying your best to stay still, allowing him to cream your insides as long as he wanted to. Grunting, Patrick was keeping you securely in his arms like a feral beast who caught his most desirable prey, marking your shoulders and neck with his sharp teeth wherever he could.

Only after a few minutes, Bateman released you from his deadly grip as he was about to get out of the shower, leaving you completely ruined and bitten in most places. Although you didn’t bleed, your skin was notable bruised, and it felt pretty awful, but that helped you to regain consciousness.

“Are you gonna live here or what?”

Sobbing, you spun around to see him standing with a towel near the shower’s door. Brushing your tears away, you moved towards him and soon; you found yourself trapped in his arms again, but now he was much gentler with you, wrapping a white towel around your body and drying you off.

This sick contrast of his behaviour turned you into a light-headed mess—you could still feel his cum smeared between your legs.

Silently, Patrick lead you to the sink, so now you could see yourself in the mirror. The image you just saw forced you to shut your eyes from embarrassment as you couldn't look at your own reflection–not after the things you had done a few minutes ago.

“You look gorgeous, Cupcake,” he crooned in a sweet tone, removing the towel. “Especially with my marks all around your soft skin.”

Chuckling, Patrick smirked to himself in the mirror before he pecked your shoulder, encircling his big palms around your sore boobs.

Did you hate yourself at that moment? Well, probably yes. But this bastard was right—you definitely couldn't control your attraction to him, and he was using it masterfully, enjoying every weak point he could find.

“(Y/N), do you remember that you have to leave soon?”

“Mmm, yes,” you let out a small cough to clean your throat. “Of course, I do.”

“Good girl.” He stated, taking a bottle of expensive body lotion.

And then, you felt his possessive touch again as he was massaging every part of your shivering frame. All this time, you didn’t dare to open your eyes, but you were sure–he must have looked so smugly because he knew how badly he was affecting you, corrupting every little piece of your soul.

Later, when his powerful hands slipped down between your legs, you suddenly flinched, moaning from being so painfully oversensitive: “Daddy…”

“What is it, baby?”

“Mmm, I’m so touchy right now...” You confessed, covering his palm with your own.

Amused, Bateman only pulled you closer, proceeding on his way to your pussy and whispering: “Next time, I’m definitely gonna eat you out.” With your eyes opened wide, you realised–this was a perfect moment to tell him that there would be no “next time” anymore, just like you planned to do after that accident in the club. But when you were about to talk, you felt his fingers rubbing against your wet folds and that was the last thing you needed in the current situation. Maybe this devil could really read your mind–you considered, throwing your head back from his unexpected but blissful assault. Patrick immediately noticed your reaction, wrapping your neck and brining you closer to him, so he could lock his mouth with yours, sucking your lips one by one. But once Bateman touched your lower one, you hissed in pain and he broke away from you, looking anxious.

“Did I actually hurt you, Cupcake?”

“N-no, I just accidentally bit my lip.” You didn’t know why you lay, but you almost believed yourself.

“I see,” he mumbled aloof, stepping aside from you. “Dry your hair and get dressed”.

He sounded strange, like he suddenly remembered something very important or something…terrible? Puzzled, you turned around to watch him leaving the bathroom, feeling like something snapped inside your mind, but you couldn’t get what was that exactly.

With a sharp breath, you leaned on the sink, trying to get yourself together. “Just do what he said and get out of here”–you kept repeating it to yourself, washing your face with cold water. It took you some time to prepare yourself to go outside, when you heard a phone call behind the bathroom’s door. Carefully, you went into the living room, but you still couldn’t hear Patrick’s voice, only some slight reverberations echoed from his bedroom.

“Patrick, I’m gonna leave now.” You declared in a loud voice, feeling yourself a bit confused.

“I will see you later, (Y/N).” That was all he said as Bateman didn’t even come to send you off.

He must have been so busy with his job–you assumed, sighing sadly as you moved towards the exit; your heart was beating suspiciously fast when you noiselessly closed the door of his apartment.

Too deeply wrapped in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that you made it to the beautifully decorated hall–it looked as rich as the entire building, nothing new. Once you were getting closer to the concierge’s table you noticed a good-looking woman with blonde hair.

“Who are you looking for?” An old concierge asked her, opening his big log book.

“I came to Patrick Bateman.”

That voice. That fucking voice made you froze near the exit as your brain was overclocked, trying to remember where you could hear it before. And almost right away, you found the answer in the back of your mind; was it even possible to forget such things? Courtney, that was her name–you shrank as if the electric shock has hit you, feeling your lungs burning with fire.

A pure anger was consuming you by the second, so you decided to leave this place as soon as possible when you heard Courtney’s voice behind your back:

“Excuse me! Do you have a lighter?”

Gulping, you looked back to reply: “No, sorry. I don’t smoke…”

To your surprise, you saw sorrow reflecting in her blue eyes as she pulled out the cigarette, giving you a barely notable smile. “Well. Thank you anyway…”

And then, she moved away towards the elevators, leaving you completely lost as you didn’t even know whether you want to cry or to yield.

Curse the day, when you accepted Patrick’s offer to have lunch and this damn deal you made with him… How on the Earth? Did you think Bateman would really help you without wanting anything in return? Feeling the upcoming hysteria, you pressed a hand to your forehead to calm down yourself just a little.

“Miss, is everything all right?” Sudden concierge’s voice made you almost jump in place.

“N-no… Everything’s not all right,” you muttered, leading to the door. “Have a good day.”

As soon as you got outside, you felt raindrops falling onto your face, bringing all the fresh memories of recent events in Patrick’s bathroom. If only you could hide from him, just like you were hiding now from the rain, standing under the awning of the next building–“if only”.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon

1K notes · View notes

milfbrennan · 7 months

Text

bones sexuality headcanons

yeah i dont have proof (except angela) i just Know. call it my lesbian spidey senses. disclaimer that those are MY headcanons, you can have your own opinions on those ofc

main characters:

brennan: bi (preference for ugly men... but i digress). she probably started exploring her sexual orientiation in college and came to the conclusion that she's attracted to every gender to varying degrees. she's probably tongue kissed angela a few times pre season 1

booth: cishet ally! ⭐️ he's a bit confused but he's got the spirit, i'll give him that.. bi wife energy start playing whenever he walks into the room

zack: gayboi with a bad case of hero worship for dr brennan. naomi from paleonthology made him realise this isnt really what he'd like to excavate, if you get the gist... ;) (ew)

angela: imo? bi, but it's up to anyone. canon queer and i'm very happy about it

hodgins: bi. putting my foot down on this one- to me, hodgela is bi4bi. one day early into the series angela goes "why is everyone so hot... being bi is so hard" and hodgins is like "yeah, tell me about it" and they have a Oh, You Too? moment

cam: distinguished (ex-disaster) pan. she's all cool and collected now but in middle school she was probably stuttering whenever she saw a pretty girl

sweets: pan. boykisser. i just KNOW. that man is not heterosexual. probably had a few boyfriends in high school too

aubrey: bi? preference for women but in an alternate universe he and sweets are a thing

goodman: token straightie along with booth except i actually like him even tho even tho he took a 2 month sabbatical and never came back

squinterns:

clark: bi. a bit repressed and only realised it after breaking up with nora but as long as he gets there it's fine

daisy: pan. absolute girlkisser. she has the wlw equivalent of whatever zack felt for dr brennan. swaisy is a disaster pan couple.

fisher: pan- and i wont have it any other way. he was 100% checking sweets out when he came over to b&b's in s8, so i like to think when hodgins asks sweets "what is it with you and interns?" in 9x23 he's including fisher

wendell: bi and in a lab au he's dating vincent thank you

vincent: english twink and i think he and wendell should kiss in the lab lost & found

arastoo: straightie but we still love him. pan wife energy since he and cam are married

finn: god, i have No Idea but i have a feeling he doesn't either

wells: aro, and maybe ace too, but fyi even if he wasn't no one would want him

jessica: ... i used to say lesbian but i kinda let the jaubrey of it all get to me... pan vibes perhaps? i'll have to think it over. in another universe she and daisy are a thing too btw

other characters:

caroline julian:... lesbian. no i will not give an explanation for this one. sham marriage and all.

karen delfs: big pansexual energy coming from this random profiler?? i like her

villains: (do not take those seriously, but also...)

pelant: unlabeled. getting strangled by hodgins awoke something in him but he didnt have the time to figure it out between 8x01 and 9x04

taffet: very VERY mean lesbian

epps: heterosexual incel

broadsky: internalised homophobia over booth, clearly

kovac: the man pretended to be married to his sister. i'm not sure i even wanna know

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fannyspammy · 1 year

Text

We’re Okay

Adam Warlock x Reader

Summary: y/n & Adam disagree for the first time

Warnings: none ! just fluff :)

A/N: fifth part to the Firsts series! Sorry it took me so long to get the next part up! Had a super busy week :/ If you haven’t read the previous parts yet, my masterlist is here! (Can be read as a oneshot tho!)

taglist: @spderm4nnnn @nocturnest @joeysjaskier

[not my gif]

Adam loved everything y/n loved. Half because she was the one who introduced him to most things, and half because y/n just had good taste.

He loved all the different food she introduced him to, the books, the movies, the music. You listened to just about anything — classic crooners, r&b, pop throwbacks, show tunes.. you name it! Naturally, Adam listened to just about anything as well, but his favourites always featured a strong guitar.

Y/n nodded her head to the beat as The Black Keys filled her ears. They were one of her favourite groups, and one of the few she’d seen perform live on Terra before finding herself in space.

She was stretched over the couch, feet up on the arm rest on the side farthest from her, singing softly along to Everlasting Light.

“In me you can confide.. When no ones by your side.. Let me be your everlasting light.”

Adam walked in, cold drink in hand. “What’ya listenin’ to?” Y/n removed one of her earbuds and held it out for him to take. She retracted her legs to allow him to sit, and he pulled them back over his lap once he was settled in his spot. Taking the earbud, Adam immediately recognized the song and nodded his head in approval. Placing his drink on the coffee table, he leaned back into the pillows behind him, and they sat in contentment, singing along and creating actions to lyrics.

As the song ended, the rhythmic intro to Howlin’ For You began. “Oh, I love this one!” Adam stated. “Dan Auerbach.. what a legend.”

Y/n agreed, retelling the time she saw him live in concert. “His guitar solos were insane. Definitely my favourite guitarist.”

“Second favourite, you mean,” Adam said, shrugging lightly. Y/n raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in question. “After Adrian Belew, right?”

“Oh, I mean, he’s great, but Auerbach is still my favourite.”

Adam stared at her like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of her mouth.

“You’re joking right? Adrian Belew is the greatest of all time!”

Y/n shrugged. “I dunno, I love his stuff too, but I think I just prefer the blues-y rock vibes over a lot of Adrian’s experimental stuff.”

Adam’s mouth was slightly agape now. “Oh c’mon. Oh Daddy? Pretty Pink Rose? I mean, the man played with David Bowie!” He was sitting up now, sharp eyebrows furrowed in frustration and hands out with his palms up in a ‘what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about’ manner.

Y/n sat up too, sensing more tension than she thought was necessary for such a trivial topic. “Babe, chill. So I don’t think Adrian Belew is the greatest of all time, so what? Why is it such a big deal to you?”

The golden man stood up now, throwing his hands down to his sides as he did. Her legs slid off his lap as he walked away from the couch, pacing a few steps away before turning around to face her again.

“Why isn’t it a bigger deal to you? How can you not think he’s the greatest guitarist of all time? He’s so clearly unmatched!”

Y/n rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why is it so hard to accept that I prefer Auerbach’s style? I’m not saying Adrian isn’t great, it’s just personal preference! When it comes to the experimental stuff I can only listen in small doses. I prefer alternative. Why is that such a problem for you?”

“Because we always like the same things!” He shouted. Y/n was taken by surprise, eyebrows raised in shock before her expression softened into a more curious one. Adam sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm as he sat back down on the edge of the couch. “We… I always like everything you’ve shown me. Everything. I mean, I don’t think I’ve disagreed with you once since we met. What if it starts with this — I like Belew and you like Auerbach — and then it becomes other things? And then next thing you know we don’t agree on anything?”

Y/n stared at him intently as he explained himself. He looked like a sad puppy, eyes round and lips in a pout. She stifled a chuckle as she realized what he was saying. Leaning forward, knees bent up to her chest, she placed her hands on his thigh. He looked at where she touched him before looking into her eyes. “Adam, it’s okay for us to disagree!”

He looked at her sheepishly. “It is?”

“Yes, silly,” y/n smiled at him, amused. “It’s sweet that you’re concerned about us growing apart, but every couple disagrees on some things. And usually over more important things than who the best guitarist is.”

Adam relaxed and scooted closer, bringing his hands to rest on the back of her calves. His thumbs rubbed her shins gently. “So.. we’re okay then?”

Y/n smiled. “Yes, you idiot, we’re okay.”

Adam sighed in relief. He adjusted his position so he was resting his head on her knees, an arm hooked around her leg to hug it close to him. Y/n melted at the sight him — a powerful man who could single-handedly bring down an army, so soft and delicate with her.

She brought a hand to his head and stroked through his hair before placing a kiss on his forehead. He snuggled closer at her show of affection and y/n smiled once again.

“We’re okay.”

#gotg 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #adam warlock #gotg v3 #guardians of the galaxy #gotg vol 3 #marvel #mcu #gotg #will poulter #adam warlock imagine #adamwarlock #adam warlock x reader #will poulter x reader #gotg 3 imagine #will poulter imagine #mcu fanfiction #adrian belew #the black keys

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snickerdoodlles · 2 months

Text

headcanons behind fic: brother texting habits referenced in long & short

Chay holds up his phone sheepishly. “Also, your brother texted me. We’re invited to dinner.” Kim’s smile drops. He doesn’t need to ask which brother. “Did he type that out, or just send an emoji with a question mark?”

ngl, had i realized how much i'd expand this series, this is actually a scene i'd cut or at least heavily rework. it's the weakest scene of the story and its execution has only felt more clunky as time passes. hindsight! that said, i don't regret the scene either because the headcanons behind the premise of that scene are very near and dear to my heart, namely the texting rituals of Khun, Kinn, and Kim :D

the boys have a system to their texting. it's not anything as concrete as a code, that'd be far too dangerous and anxiety inducing. their system, naturally, revolves primarily around giving hints to Korn's mood without outright saying anything:

firstly, all brother invites to things go through Khun, because Khun's invites will only ever be invites and Kim's 'no's will only ever be 'no's.

anytime Korn demands Khun or Kinn (usually Kinn) drag Kim to a family thing for him go through Kinn, and 'Kinn's requests are always phrased as a question Kim can refuse. Kim once tells Kinn he'll show up if Kinn orders him to (because he doesn't actually want to get Kinn into trouble if Korn's being esp insistent), and Kinn smiles and tells him "thank you" and never ever once orders Kim join them, because Kim asked not to be involved in the family business and Kinn will take on any burden to keep Kim free of it.

Kinn passes along how insistent Korn's being through the overall tone and vibe of his messages, usually indicated by how much of it he types out. requests Kim join official functions sound like a formal invitation printed on a card, requests Kim indulge Korn playing family are much closer to Kinn's standard texting style;

because, and this is a silly headcanon i will have forever, Kinn fucking loves emojis. you know his whole "this could've been an email" vibe when he shoots that guy in the head ep1? same vibes except much cuter. Kinn thinks emojis are adorable and efficiency perfected. why send "thank you" when the 👍 emoji is right there? a picture's worth a thousand words and 🫂 is a thousand warm ones. he could send "wanna check out that new coffee shop by the studio next tuesday for brunch? their menu is 60% sprinkles so i'm sure you'll love it" but ☕🧋🎙️❔👑2️⃣🗓️🕦🍬👉💕💕‼️ is so much quicker. the only reason why Kinn's texts aren't 87% cute stickers is because he hasn't yet realized they come preprogrammed in his phone.

("do you think he speaks in hieroglyphics because he's secretly ancient?" Kim asks one day.

"how old does it make you to understand him then?" Khun snarks back.)

((Kim leaves Khun on read for a week.))

some bonus thoughts: Khun's a spam texter of the highest order. every one text is sent across 3.5 texts minimum. Kinn only ever sends one (1) text. if Kinn's replying to multiple messages in one go, he separates his responses in indv bullet points (if he's feeling petty towards Khun, he responds to every one of Khun's messages individually).

(Kinn's multiple messages to Chay in long & short are absolutely because he's watching Kim's live. for all Kim's snooping, he has somehow missed that Kinn has every alert and then some set for Wik news and while he can't make every live, he plans his breaks around them and even moved a meeting once.)

also, while Kinn pretends he's threatening/blackmailing with these baby Kim pics, this is 100% him taking advantage of the situation to gush about cute baby brother with a fellow Kim AppreciatorTM. Kinn has the cutest little brother, and he's gotta keep up with news of baby brother's current shenanigans somehow 😤👏 Khun is guilty of similar crimes ofc.

(Kim suffers older brothers so much.)

#kinnporsche #fic headcanons #fic: gone fishing #i love brothers <3333

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aluhnim · 6 months

Note

Hello!! When you start a comic, how do you go about deciding your panelling layouts?? If this is too big of an ask for covid brain, how about your favorite song of the moment / a song that really inspires you?? I hope you feel better soon!

I was searching around for an old write up I did for some Original Character Tournament folks who were interested in my thoughts on panels and layouts. To try and answer your question, I go off of vibe now that I’ve made a LOT of comics. However, as much as it doesn’t seem like it at times, I do typically stay as “conventional” as possible to make sure my readers are still following the plot. I make a lot of adjustments along the way. Smarter layouts allow me to draw less, and drawing less is better for me in the long run! It’ll allow me to put more time in other places of the comic.

Anyway, here’s my write up back in the day that’ll hopefully answer some comic drafting questions!

More conventional paneling is a necessary stepping stone because you know your reader won’t get lost and the structure will have you more focused on flow and pacing. It seems remarkably easy to do comics with more “static” or traditional panel layouts but they work for a reason. There’s no real need to break out of something that works, unless you want to! Breaking out of the structure can really add some OOMPH to your important pages.

Some tips, note that these have been my preferences and some definitions don’t quite match their descriptors.

Bleed

I consider open panels or panels that stretch out beyond the edge of the page to be considered bleeds. They’re simple ways to make you feel like your not just sticking within your margins and making your page feel less static without much extra effort. Manga does this quite often, and Western American comics, especially during action packed moments or large splashes.

Some examples of things bleeds can do:

- They can also be used as transitions between pages (first panel bleeding in, last panel bleeding out).

- They can be used to interrupt or add a beat to a moment. Although the example below is mostly bleeds, you can see the one full panel at the bottom stands out because it’s not like the others. A subtle beat.

- They can also just be used to extend a panel to make it bigger. That seems obvious, but larger panels do make people spend a bit more time on them, regardless if there is text or not. Though, “more time” means probably several milliseconds or even a few seconds more than usual.

- Collaging with a bleed is a really great way to think beyond panels and open the space. You will be spending more time thinking of how much you can cram in along with the flow of how your text is going to lead through a series of images.

- Removing panel borders can really open a space and allow for more room without having to go above and beyond the ideas of comics and panels. (sorry, gale galligan is just good)

Gutters

The space between panels is almost just as important as the panel itself. That’s where readers and inferring actions and time. You can only control so much of what the reader is doing between their eye shifting between panels, which is why composition within panels and clarity are so important.

Gutters can also be played with! A simple example is changing your gutters from white to all black. It can be a subtle shift in time, a transition to a new space.

Even the amount of space between panels leaves an idea of time! I think webtoons/manhwa really work well with the gutter space, leaving you to physically scroll and feel the effects of time passing with the amount of empty space you encounter.

It’s important to understand that the gutter has a lot more to do with reader imagination, and your goal is to have them understand that the next panel is somehow plausible.

THIS SCENE EMFIELDS DID IS VERY FUCKING GOOD. TIME, SPACE, GO OOOOOOFFFF KING

Panels themselves can be a part story!

This one is a difficult thing to write for, since I feel like there isn’t many examples out there. There are very structural examples of panels out there, like Watchman. While the 9 panel grid was intentional, it also was likely the only way to deal with Alan Moore’s script effectively without missing details. The panels themselves don’t ENHANCE the story, but a means to an end.

But it’s also an incredibly good example of how conventional comics paneling can still be effective, especially when you start breaking that mold just a little bit.

But then you have comics like M. Dean’s “Baby fat”. Where the comic paneling itself never strays from its original structure, but is indicative of the story itself, representing tiles, mirrors, patterns.

Or Robert Hunter’s “The New Ghost” which he uses circular motifs and has circular panels representing the telescopes sight line.

Predicting Reader Navigation

These are my rules of thumb when doing general sight reading panel by panel.

1. Text is what people gravitate to first. It’s the context needed to approach the next panel.

2. Faces are next, this provides context to what the subject is feeling.

3. Familiar people/animals/objects and SFX.

4. Everything else!

This is an example of sight reading notes I gave to my friend Holocene when we were collaborating.

#long post #asks #blogging

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lamoobsessions · 12 days

Text

Ideal Date

Celebrity AU: Hazel Callahan x (fem)Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: no use of y/n, very breif mentions of sex, unwanted touch (just wrist grabbing), Hazel is kind of a loser.

A/N: Very loosely inspired by the song 'boyfrined,' by Dove Cameron. I say loosely because the song's essence isn't really there, you know what I mean? It's more of a idiots in love vibe, than anything. Anyway, this is my first Hazel fic, so I hoped I captured her character well 🙏

· ─────────── ·

The idea of a gala is a lot more exciting than the execution, or at least, that’s what Hazel was beginning to think. There isn’t much to do, aside form eat food, down a few drinks, and participate in some auction; which, come to think of it, she has no idea what this gala is fundraising. Whatever organziation sponsored the event, Hazel didn’t know it. She probably should, but she simply didn’t check the invite. The moment she heard you’d be here, there was no second thought about it, she was going. And at first she was excited.

It’s an indoor event, held in some big extravagant ballroom with shiny marble floors and dazzling chandeliers. The food is terrific, the drinks are delicious, and the DJ must have rent to pay because they were playing all the right songs. It was all going so well.

But then you showed up with him, James Watsky, your annoyingly handsom co-star in some new upcoming action movie -She didn’t know the details of it, once there were rumors of a scandalous sex scene in the film, she never botherd looking into it too much. All she knew was that you looked great in the trailers. Your hair pinned up high, your shorts cut low, your tank top dirty with grime, and your plush lips bloodied and busted, how could someone pull off a look like that so well? As many other celebrities have experienced, there was a rumor you sold your soul for the fame, and as much as Hazel believed those rumors were only made to take away the credit from a woman’s success, she was beginning to think maybe you did. But not for the fame, but for beauty. In her eyes, it was unreal, a celestial-like beauty.

Not only were you beautiful, but you were a joy to be around.

The first time Hazel had the privilege of working with you was when she helped co-write for an episode of a sitcom series you had a part in. It was during the first uptick of your career, so the producers finally let you direct an episode yourself. Having no experience in screenwriting, you were sent to Hazel for help. Together, the two of you made one of the most beloved episodes of the whole series.

The second time Hazel had the privilege of working with you was just after the series finale, and the contract tying you down to the series was terminated. To her delight, you called her up that same day and asked if she wanted to produce a movie with you -On the one condition that she starred in it with you. She agreed, though hesitantly at first. Hazel didn’t know if she’d like the spotlight. Sitting behind the scenes, re-writing dialogue, and tweaking a few storylines was more her pace. At least, that’s what she thought at first, til you came along and showed her her full potential. You were one of the few people in Hazel’s life to actually believe in her work.

And that movie changed everything.

She started booking more writing gigs, more acting gigs, more interviews. At first it was overwhelming, but it grew on her, and with that grew your friendship. The public loved it, the press loved it, casting crews loved it. It was a win-win all around, but Hazel wanted more. And just as she began to realize that, this whole action movie came up and took away most of your time.

The two of you have rarely talked since, only on rare occasions like these -immense, pretentious, and excessive events that drained her social battery the second she walked through the door.

But you were here, and it’s been three years since you’ve started that movie (production was a bitch). Now, it felt as if you were out of reach, like she was back at square one, watching the celebrity she admired most as a mere fan.

Hazel didn’t think it would hurt so much seeing you here. She missed you more than she thought she did. You in your long, satin dress that hugged your waist so well. You wearing that annoyingly infectious smile that never seemed to die down. You with your graciously pinned up hair that she was sure would be the softest thing she could ever touch.

And still, even with your classic beauty and genial personality, you showed up with him. The douches of all douches. It hurt her to see you with him. It ached her to see you sat with your arm linked with his, as you sipped your cocktail with a smile.

Actually, it was beginning to annoy her. Why him? You could do so much better than him. Why did it have to him, of all people? What did he offer? What did he have that she didn’t? She could be a better gentleman than him, Hazel was sure of that.

No, she wasn’t sad anymore, she was angry. Whether it be at herself for not making a move sooner, or at him from stealing you from her, or at you for being with someone like him. It didn’t matter who exactly she was mad at, all that mattered was that she was pissed. Even more pissed when she noticed your date grabbing your wrist.

You and him were at one of the formal tables, your chairs faceing the dance floor, as he desperately tried to pull you off your seat, presumably for a dance. You seemed steadfast in your decision to stay put. But still, he didn’t relent, he tugged and pulled, as his face grew warmer with frustration. You were just as stubborn, shaking your head and trying to keep your cool with an unsteadily calm expression. Finally, the man gave in, throwing his hands up in frustration, he stormed off.

At first, Hazel thought he was running off to get a drink, but no, he was leaving. Full-on exiting the gala. In a matter of seconds he brushed past Hazel’s shoulder, and walked out the door. All of it because you wouldn’t dance with him.

Averting her attention back to you, you seemed almost unfazed. Your eyes glued to your phone as you pressed rapidly against the screen. Okay, maybe you weren’t unfazed, you looked just as pissed as Hazel felt moments ago.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she approach you? Is it even her place to try to comfort you? The two of you weren’t even that kind of close anymore, would you find it too up-front?

You were upset, that much was obvious, and Hazel wanted to fix that, fix your friendship. It didn’t matter if it would escalates into more, she just wanted her best friend back.

It took two shots of tequila to do it, but she finally stepped in your direction and made her way toward your table. You were still typing away at your phone, too much in a world of your own to notice Hazel right in front of you.

“Rough night?” she asked, immdeianlty pulling in your attention.

“Oh my god, Hazel,” your expression switched, a smile now beaming from your lips. It made her want to melt on the spot. “It’s so good to see you. I was hoping you’d be here.”

“Yeah?”

You hum, nodding happily, as you pat the seat next to you, to which Hazel obliged. “I’m sorry we haven’t talked much. I’ve been meaning to reach out, but you know… work stuff.”

“It’s okay. I mean, I haven’t been reaching out much either, so…”

“Well, let’s not let it happen again, yeah? You’re like… one of the very few people in this industry I actually like.”

Hazel bites back a smile, hoping to prevent it from growing any bigger. It was becoming more and more evident as each moment passed, none of the feelings she felt for you before have diminished. Even after all this time, everything still felt so fresh. She still loved you.

She just had no idea where she wanted this to go. It’s been three years since your friendship changed, yet she still felt the same way. She still felt those same flutters in her stomach.

“I’m… really glad you’re here.” Your words sound much more soft, much more fervent than your previously chipper tone. “Honeslty, you’re the only reason I came.”

Hazel felt stunned for a moment. She didn’t want to read too much into your implications, it’s been a while since you two have gotten to talk one-on-one. But to hear your soft, sincere tone again was a lost treasure Hazel hadn’t known she lost.

“I thought your date would be the reason you came.” she teases.

You huff a laugh, leaning into your seat. “No, he’s- uh… definitely not my ideal date.”

“Who’s your ideal date then?” Hazel didn’t know what she wanted in an answer. She didn’t know what to expect either.

You turn to her with a shy grin plastered on your lips, one that Hazel couldn’t quite read. “It’s a secret.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you hum smugly.

“If I guess right, will you tell me?”

“You’re not going to guess.”

“What if I do?”

“You’re not going to,”

“But what if?”

You narrow your eyes, brushing them over her expression, as if trying to determine something. You were so close, if Hazel just leaned in just a little, she could close the space between you two. It was tempting, very tempting.

“Fine,” You resort, leaning back into your chair. “If you guess right, I’ll tell you.”

Hazel’s smile grows steadily, though she couldn’t be more nervous. Truthfully, she didn’t want to know your ideal date, because she knew it wouldn’t be her. But if this little game you two were playing would re-kindle your lost friendship, she’d do it. She’d do it all night if that’s what it took.

Her eyes dart around the room, glancing over all the potential competitors. With her distraction, she hadn’t noticed your eyes glued to her, watching as she inspects the party.

“Christopher,” She guesses.

“Which one? There are like fifty of them here.”

“Christopher Chapesky,”

“Nope,”

“Christopher Paulmer,”

“Nope,”

“Christopher Liam.”

“Nope.”

“Is it any of the Chris's?”

“That’s cheating, you’ll elimanate half the party suggesting that name.”

“So, it isn’t any of them?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “No, you’re way off base.”

“So, you’re not into Chris’s. Got it.”

“I’m just not into egomaniacs.”

Hazel falls into the seat with a flail of her arms. “What? But that’s like, the whole party.”

You shrug, “There are a few gems.”

Finally, Hazel looks to you. Her deadpan expression immediately flips upon finding your gaze already on her. That same gentle, hazy expression, staring back at her, you felt so easy to subdue to. If she stared at you too long, she’d surely get lost. Time would become irrelevant, the world would stop spinning, nothing around her would be able to pull her back out. It’s a dangerous game she has herself in. Afraid to get too drawn in, she seeks refuge looking back to the crowd.

“Do I at least know them?” She questions.

A silence fills your end, there is no response.

Hazel, calls your name, to find you staring down at your hands, twisting and turning your rings nervously. Til, you snap out of your daze, meeting her questioning stare. “Sorry?”

“Do I know them?”

“Oh… yeah.” you nod. “You know them, pretty well actually.”

Hazel didn’t know many people at this gala. The people she did know, she only knew in passing. So, who else was here that she knew ‘pretty well’?

“Okay…” Hazel sighs, wanting to give up. The game was turning into torment, no person she named would make her feel better. She wanted it to be her.

“I told you, you’re not going to guess.”

“Yeah,” Hazel huffs, crossing her arms. “I’m beginning to think you’re right.”

“Always am,” You joke, nudging her side.

She puts her tongue to her cheek, shaking her head disapprovingly.

She didn’t know, but that look on her drove you crazy. Hazel never caught your longing glances, you were strategic with them -well, ususally. There were rare occasion where you were caught, but she never questioned them.

Though, there’s something about her tonight. Her pristine fitting suit, her perfectly shaped hair, her sly, chasing tone. Mentally, you’ve mapped all her features. You admired them all the way from the moles on the back of her neck, to the small curvature in her nose. She was impossible not to stare at.

Your phone vibrated on the table, pulling you out of your prolonged glance. It was your manager. You exhale your disappointment. Nodding to Hazel to excuse you, as you accept the call.

“Hey,” You greet with an even tone.

Hazel saw the contact name, but she didn’t need to know it was your manager to sense your immediate discomfort.

“He was being an ass and I wouldn’t take it, so he left.” You remark, as your leg began to tap up and down nervously by your chair. “I wasn’t going to tolerate it. He can’t just… I know, I’m sorry… well he shouldn’t have… no, I know… I know…”

She tried to listen to what your manager could be saying, but over all the music and the chattering commotion, it was near impossible. Whatever it was, she knew it had something to do with that James Watsky guy you were seeing. Why your manager cared, she didn’t know.

“Look, i’m still at the gala, so I can’t really talk about it right now… well, he’s the one that left, I didn’t tell him to leave…I couldn’t have made him stay if I tried. It would’ve only made things worse…fine, that’s fine. Just…call me later, then… Okay, bye.”

You end the call, leaning your head back over the seat with a groan.

“Everything okay?” Hazel asked.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You apologizde, grabbing your drink off the table to take a few swigs. “I hired a new manager recently, and he’s… kind of the worst honestly.”

“Why don’t you drop him?”

“I can’t. Signed a contract, I’m stuck with him til the end of the year.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You say, a smile retuning to your lips. “He’ll probably drop me anyways, which isn’t a bad thing, cause that’s the only way I’ll probably get out this mess soon.”

Hazel could didn’t want to pry, knowing you probably didn’t want to talk about it. Not here, not now. You were at a gala after all, weren’t these things supposed to be fun?

An idea popped into her head, one that could get your manager to drop you in an instant. She told herself it was solely for you, that there were no selfish intentions behind it. Though, she wasn’t fooling herself one bit.

“Do you wanna dance?”

“What?” you asked with a smile. You heard her perfectly clear, but, admittedly, you wanted to hear her say it again.

“Do you wanna dance?”

Suppressing an embarrassingly wide grin, you bit down your lips and nod.

Hazel stands and holds out a hand, her sliver rings gleaming under the chandelier lights. In that moment, you really do wonder if looks can kill.

Her hand is cold to the touch, as she guides you through the main floor. In your eyes, she couldn’t seem less nonchalant about it, but in reality, Hazel’s heart pounded in her ears. She never danced with anyone before, not in the way everyone else was dancing with their partners. The last time she checked the dance floor, the moves were loose, uncoordinated. No one danced with any sort of plan, they just moved. But now, step after step, they swayed with elegance in their every move. Slow, suave music carrying their motions.

Hazel placed her hands on your waist, simultaneously steadying her tremble. Your hands met her shoulders, and finally, you could see through her calm facade.

“You never slow dance before?” You ask with a subtle simper.

“No,” she laughs breathily.

“that’s okay, I’ll lead.” You gently place your hand on hers, lifting it from your waist and interlocking your fingers. Hazel watches you intently, her eyes trailing from your hands, to your waist, to your lips, til finally, she meets your careful gaze.

You begin to sway your hips, hoping to initiate some movement. Though, Hazel was enamored, nervous and stiff beyond repair. Her feet felt rooted to the floor, she hesitated before even thinking to move. Yet, with the gentle music and your attentive touch, she began to settle her stiff form, and follow your lead. With each slow step, left to right, front to back, you fall into form.

Hazel and you have always walked a thin line between intimacy and amity. At times, it felt restraining, like you were stepping on egg shells around each other. But now, it felt like balancing on a tight rope, teetering with hitched breathes, as you sway side to side.

There were moments you wanted to push her away, as if simply being around her felt like too much. But, in that same sense, you wanted to pull her closer. You wanted to pull her close and never let go.

And Hazel couldn’t keep her eyes off you. You were intoxicating, especially in that dress. It made her want to inhale your very essence, like it was her oxygen. Bewitched, enthralled, fascinated, charmed, you name it. Hazel was all of the above.

Moments pass, and not a single word has been uttered. There was a silent understanding that if anything was spoken, it would break the threshold. If this was intimate or platonic, that very concept would be revealed the moment either of you decided to speak. So, neither of you did. Instead, the both of you reveled in this small bubble of time, wishing it would never burst.

Slowly, as the dance progressed, the two of you drifted closer. You found Hazel’s chest pressed to yours, and your chin tucked under her shoulder. In the back of your mind, you can see the nosey rumors, the catchy headlines, the snarky articles. Surely, your manager would drop you after this. But, in a freeing sort of way, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. None of that mattered, not when Hazel was finally back in your life.

The past three years have been hell, though nothing in those recent years could top being with her. To be in her arms again felt liberating. Even now, you felt the same giddiness you felt the day you met her. It’s like you jumped right back to where you were before with eachother. Nothing had changed, not even the intense surge of adrenaline you got around her. That never left.

“You know it was only a PR thing, right?” you say, feeling the sudden urge to inform her.

Hazel pulls back, her eyes looking down at you. “What?”

“James, he wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh,” the weight that had been sitting on Hazel’s shoulders since she saw you with him, finally lifted.”Right, yeah, I knew that.”

She did not in fact know that.

“I would never go out with someone like him,” you admit, hopelessly attempting to drop all the hints you could. “I mean, I would prefer not going out with men in the first place, so…”

Very briefly, her eys dart to your lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You breath. Whenever she said stuff like that it made you feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a stupid crush. It was much more than that of course, but she made your stomach flip all the same.

“So, your ideal date is a woman?”

“Precisely.”

“How long were you going to let me list off half the men in this room?” she laughs.

“Well, I was pretty amused by it, so… forever maybe?”

She playfully rolls her eyes, “You’re the worst.”

“Aw, you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” She dismisses.

You don’t know when it happened, but Hazel had taken the lead, and suddenly, you were following her steps on the dance floor.

“You really want to know who my Ideal date is?”

“I don’t know,” Hazel sighs, her demeanor suddenly switching. The idea of you wanting someone else devastated her. She felt nervous all over again. “Do I?”

“I think you do,” your voice is barely over a whisper, but Hazel still heard your words clearly, and that lifted her confidence just a little. “She’s sweet…charming…funny,” You list each factor, hoping your voice didn’t tremble as much as your hands did. “She has short, brown hair, soft blue eyes, a nice smile. She’s an okay dancer, I guess. But you know, she didn’t have the best teacher…”

The rest of the words get caught in the back of your throat, as Hazel’s hand untangles from yours, and meets your jaw instead. She had heard enough by then, and with her enraptured stare boring into yours, the gap between you two closed and your lips locked. A fit of sparks burst in your chest, as Hazel’s one hand on your waist tightens its grip, further deepening the kiss. It’s slow, soft, and gentle with each tug of her lips.

You’re positive no durg or substance could ever achieve a high equivalent this one. Her mere touch made you feel impossibly lighter.

“You’re my ideal date too, by the way.” She utters against your lips.

“Good,” A light laughter escapes you, before you pulled her in once more.

Her lips curved upward, as both her hands travel from your neck to you hair, tangling her fingers in the loose strands. She wasn’t sure where her body started and where yours ended. It felt as if you had consumed her whole, that the two of you are now of one being. She had been waiting for this moment for so long, never had she thought you would feel so good.

She couldn’t believe she had at one point regretted coming here. She almost went home. But, god was she glad she didn’t, cause you were here, in her arms, kissing her. Hazel had changed her mind, maybe these gala things weren’t so bad.

#Hazel Callahan #Hazel Callahan x reader #Hazel Callahan x you #Hazel Callahan x y/n #bottoms 2023 #bottoms fanfic

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graceandtheidiotsquad · 3 months

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Dumb Character Headcanons: Champion Cynthia

I am having brainrot over the queen of sinnoh ok. I love her and her crazy family so much-! I apologize for how random some of these are-some of them I got inspiration from popular ones from, some from AUs i've seen and some I just made up on the fly-Ok, enough rambling-on with the show!

- TOTAL. MOMMA. BEAR. She just-has very motherly, protective vibes and despite being one of the most generally considered TERRIFYING CHARACTERS IN THE SERIES (and I'm mildly scared of her too!) she'd probably take you out for ice cream after battling her to celebrate a job well done, win or lose.

- Speaking of ice cream, I think this is not only a popular hc i agree with but they made it CANON In the anime that she cannot, for the life of her, decide what flavor she wants and will just stand there for 15 minutes weighing all the pros and cons and unintentionally holding up the line. I mean she'll move when she realizes and apologize PROFUSELY but still- ...But would YOU tell her to hurry up and choose?? No, I don't think so.

- Her hair is usually either down most of the time or tied up in a bun. But only for when she needs it-she doesn't care how messy it gets, she just likes being wild I suppose. Sometimes you'll find her literally wrestling one of her pokemon for fun (usually Garchomp) and her hair will be full of leaves and sticks, and not a care in the world! One of her family taught her how to tie her hair back in a bun, and though she adores them-she was quite the pain to get to stand still long enough to even TRY as a child.

- You wouldn't think it, with how classy she is-...buuuuuut she was almost a leash kid. You think she gets this intimidation factor just from being so classy and dramatic alone? No, she can be fucking FERAL when she wants to be. Sometimes the Sinnoh League will have trouble finding her to get her to report to her champion duties as she's gotten distracted and wandered off to explore some ruins somewhere in the region and never told anyone where she was going.

- She used to and still can climb trees in seconds if left unattended. This has lead to many a heart-attack for her grandmother, watching her little baby Cynthia nearly DIE falling out of said tree, only to be completely unharmed and even LAUGHING at the experience.

- Actually is a REALLY big fan of the wrestling/battle royale circuit. She can and will burst out singing some of the intros at the top of her lungs, much to the shock of ANYONE in the room with her.

- She also happy dances and likes to put on music when she works. She loves piano but even she can't resist a good earworm, humming along to it as she runs around the local library or (reluctantly) winds up cooped up inside doing or cleaning up paperwork. This is implied to be canon in a spinoff game (Pokemon Masters EX if you're curious) and I totally agree that she just-cannot be bothered to clean up her office and it's almost CONSTANTLY a mess because she keeps getting distracted by new things to look at or something she hadn't seen in ages (BECAUSE of the mess) like a book and just winds up reading it all day. It's a vicious cycle!

- The reason she loves piano so much is she actually knows how to play, and is VERY Good at it! A very dear member of her family taught her when she was very young and she plays to help remember him-wherever the hell he's wandered off to now. Music connects us just as much as pokemon do, in her mind-so whenever she plays, he's right beside her again-whether physically or not.

- She has inherited the family 'way too fucking tall' gene and that does NOT help her intimidating appearance sometimes.

- Sometimes casually speaks fluent Latin/Greek just to confuse the shit outta people. Look, she isn't usually spiteful-but even the most graceful and kind people have their limits. The same person who taught her piano taught her it-probably for that express purpose. Also several swear words. (thankfully if she ever swears, it's in said language so hardly anyone will know-)

- She grew up feeling-quite isolated from others her age because of her intense focus on studying history and battling competitively. Mostly the history thing-the battling thing probably didn't help as most kids were likely TERRIFIED of how intense she got. But-...i think that's why she loved that member of her family so much. Finally, someone who understood her...! He'd even given her the egg that would hatch into her Garchomp. (It was SUPPOSED to be a togepi, that wouldn't cause much hassle aside from the occasional accident with metronome-...but NOOOOOO, he decided to let her cause havoc. Her grandma nearly smacked him.)

- Honestly if you told her you were a demon or some supernatural shit she'd probably be more fascinated and barrage you with questions than scared. Or kick ass if you were hostile-DO. NOT. FUCK. WITH THE CHAMPION OF SINNOH.

- She may or may not be guilty of spoiling hers and other people's Pokémon with treats. She can't help it! She has a WEAKNESS for puppy dog eyes, whether it be her own Pokémon, any she's babysitting (she feels like someone who would do that if asked) Or young trainers she's taken a shine to.

- Wound up with a heavy ass, GIGANTIC hand-me-down backpack from who-knows how many generations ago and yes, she CAN lug it around with ease. She doesn't much for her league job, but it's her go-to when it comes to adventuring or exploring. - Speaking of the backpack-she often carries her spiritomb outside of its pokeball inside while in particularly rough areas, usually hiding inside its keystone. You never know if you'll need a pokemon for backup and don't have time to reach for one of your pokeball before things get dicey, after all-and the sight of a very angry ghost and dark type pokemon erupting from an ancient backpack is more than enough to send anyone who would likely cause trouble PACKING-looking almost as if something is being summoned right behind her! (She doesn't know why she looks so terrifying that way, but at least it means no one will cause too much trouble)

- An absolute GIRLBOSS for sure-but also very, very soft when it comes to people she loves. She'll gush and gush about her family members-especially younger ones, or trainers she's mentally adopted (and she does this a lot.) as her own 'pack', so to speak. She'll try to tone it down if it makes them uncomfortable but it's so HARD-she feels so blessed to have people who love her for who she is, as strange and beautiful and intimidating and just a little bit odd as she can be that she just HAS to spread word about how amazing they are! (She's like one of those moms who shows off photos of her kids all the time, just not in an annoying way if that makes sense?? At least she tries not to be-but once she starts rambling about them or ANYTHING it is almost impossible to get her to stop!)

- Often makes hand gestures like pointing when she speaks, especially when she gets excited. She often doesn't realize she's doing it half the time-but she always does it when taking pictures. She just-feels like her hands HAVE to be doing something!

- I will not give away the massive spoiler this ties into but she OWNS the song Blood Right by Madame Macabre. JUST-IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FOR LEGENDS ARCEUS, JUST-BE PREPARED YOU'RE IN FOR A RIDE!

#pokemon #pokemon cynthia #dppt #diamond pearl platinum #pokemon dppt #pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus spoilers #kinda???#i mean it's in the thumbnail of the playlist so I hope that's ok #champion cynthia #sinnoh #pokemon diamond and pearl #pokemon platinum #pokemon brilliant diamond #pokemon shining pearl #pokemon gen 4 #Spotify

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spoopydeboop · 4 months

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Hello, and welcome to…

Pointless Palia Head-Cannons!

This is a segment where my hyper-focused and obsessive brain will shower you all with all of the pointless very important head-cannons I have about the MMO Palia and its many NPCs!

Today’s topic is:

Which Palia NPCs can sing well and which ones simply cannot carry a tune?

Now, in the words of the famous Italian plumber, “Here we go!” (List below the cut!)

NPCs are listed in alphabetical order.

• Ashura - Absolutely yes, but in a very deep, sea-shanty / Gaelic tune way. He’s not the most technically sound, but his voice is very gruff and soothing. Absolutely sang his son lullabies every night.

• Auni - No, I’m sorry. Convinced that he cannot carry a tune AT ALL but thinks he can. Sings loudly with zero inhibition whatsoever. Gotta give him credit there!

• Badruu - We know this man was in a traveling Bard group, so he’s musically inclined for sure. I feel like he would have been killer backup and filler vocals and he can harmonize beautifully.

• Caleri - Doesn’t believe in fun, jovial activities like singing. (Elouisa informs you later that her sister can in fact not carry a tune at all.)

• Chayne - Absolutely. He’s naturally musically inclined, but part of his spiritual training involved learning to lead chants and hymns. Bass level vocals, v soothing.

• Delaila - Not at all. Where do you think Auni gets it? Part of what entranced her about Badruu in the beginning was his musical abilities. She’ll still sing along with a group and put her all into it though!

• Einar - The concept of producing a vocal stimulation to create a pleasing melodic sound is lost to the robot. But if it’s your Oneness, he respects it.

• Elouisa - Cannot sing, but definitely played clarinet in high school and was first chair!

• Eshe - No way. Cruella de Vil type vibes. She definitely was classically trained on the piano, but doesn’t often exercise the skill.

• Hassain - Can absolutely carry a tune and harmonize well! Definitely low baritone or higher bass in range. Can harmonize with higher ranges very well!

• Hekla - Her Jina often sings to herself as she works, but the ability and desire to produce a series of melodies is not within her rune programming.

• Hodari - Not the biggest fan of singing, but has a decent voice that comes off pleasantly gruff and southern. I imagine if Pedro Pascal’s ‘Joel’ from The Last of Us sang a slower, more reserved tune. (My other example was the dad cow from Back at the Barnyard that sings “I Won’t Back Down”… Let me know if that woulda been better or worse.)

• Jel - Definitely took vocal lessons with his sisters. Has a very pleasant and airy singing voice that is very technically sound.

• Jina - Doesn’t really sing much except for to herself. Massive stage fright on this one! Hekla says that her Jina seems happy when she sings, and that’s what matters.

• Kenji - Honestly? 100%, yes. Maybe like a broadway or an operatic voice. Doesn’t sing much but I imagine it would sound really jolly if he was a jollier guy.

• Kenyatta - YES! Doesn’t sing because she thinks it’s ‘lame’ (she gives me massive ‘too cool for school’ vibes) but has a delightful and powerful singing voice (kinda like the wolf Porsha Crystal played by Halsey in Sing 2.)

• Nai’O - Yes absolutely. Got his talent from his dad! He’s very shy when put on the spot though, so he doesn’t sing in front of people often — mostly when he works in the field with his animals by himself.

• Najuma - Not at all! But it’s okay because Najuma has zero desire to, haha. Kid is happy to be tinkering!

• Reth - On god, YES. Man has a beautiful and casual singing voice with a little rasp around the edges. Sings to himself while he cooks or gets really focused on something. I’m thinking “Feelin’ Good” by Michael Bublé, but maybe bit more rough around the edges.

• Sifuu - Not much of a singer, but I know our Muscle Mommy definitely has a few war chants or something up her sleeve! Lady can keep a beat for sure.

• Tamala - Thinks she can, but makes it way too sultry. You heard me. There’s such a thing as too much!

• Tish - Yes! Absolutely. She seems like she would 100% have like a Mandy Moore or Kristen Bell vibe. Very Disney Princess-esque!

• Zeki - Okay, honestly I think yes — but not in a conventional way. Kind of like Ashura; I think he would be great at singing like traditional Grimalkin shanties or folk-songs. Not very practiced, but he’s got spirit!

OKAY FINALLY DONE! I plan to do a lot more of these! Let me know if you have any suggestions!

#palia theory #headcanon #palia headcanons #palia tish #palia najuma #palia hodari #palia oc #palia open beta #palia reth #play palia #palia game #palia mmo #palia jel #palia hassian #palia #palia ashura

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jmvore · 7 months

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wild thought(s) • 1 | pjm

‹ previous | next › ↳ SYNOPSIS › Being sexually frustrated seemed to be the story of Jimin's life. So he turned to writing his wants and wishes in a blog he kept online for people to read. He used to be content with that, until he met you. Eventually, he stopped because all the fantasizing in the world never amounted to the real thing. › series masterlist | masterlist | request ‹

» RATING › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » GENRE(S) › smut, fluff » AU › slice of life » PAIRING(S) › park jimin x f!reader » WORD(S) › 8.5k+ » CH. SYNOPSIS › Jimin thought his dance rehearsal would run over but when he came home. You weren't there. » SMUT WARNING(S) › JIMIN CALLS THE READER MOMMY (so if that's not your cup of tea, don't read), sub!jimin, domme!f!reader,non-con voyeurism (but the reader makes sure Jimin is okay with it), loads of teasing, ass play, m! fingering, uh Neighbor!Namjoon jacks off to you and Jimin, p in the v s*x, teasing, pretty boys with toys, jimin is in love alright, soft!domme reader, cowgirl positions, there are a lot of petnames for Jimin (Petal, Prince, Baby, Sweetheart, etc), it's implied Namjoon has a crush on Jimin, & riding Jimin with a purpose. » ORIGINAL POST DATE › 06/30/2019 » RE-POSTED DATE › 10/26/23 » A/N › Thank you @/saradika for the divider(s)!For those who don't know, this is a request series: you can request for this universe. You can read more about it on this story's masterlist.

There’s one thing Jimin hates about this world and that’s the world of dating. Heartbreak. Betrayal. Lies. Wistfulness. There are plenty of emotions Jimin has felt throughout his years of trying and wanting to be loved. It’s something he’s yearned to experience since he was old enough to be able to know what love is.

Most dating apps proved to be a bust and most of the people he met in his everyday life didn’t fit his vibe. Yoongi even told him he’s going to have to use specific apps that cater to his specific needs but Jimin disagreed.

At least, he used to. Now? He’s not too sure.

He remembers all the things Yoongi has taught him about understanding his own wants and desires. He had to learn that not a lot of people are into the same kinks as he is. And Jimin had to come to that realization after a handful of disastrous dates and relationships. However, he also thinks Yoongi is tired of listening to him cry about it (he won’t say it though).

There was a relationship he had with an older man that he thought was going well! Their personalities fit well with one another, they loved the same things and even got along as if they knew each other for a long time. The only downside is when it came to having sex. He was almost always disinterested in the things that Jimin liked and when Jimin would suggest trying something different, he would berate him for it.

Ungrateful. Whiny. Uptight. Clingy. Crybaby.

He remembers all the names he called him and all the times he downplayed his feelings. Jimin never wanted to feel insignificant like that again. Unfortunately for him, he fell back into that pattern with a couple of other ex’s. His last lover (a woman he used to work with) he told her about some of his kinks and desires as they lay in pure bliss of the night. Jimin thought she would be willing and understanding. Willing to try but she fell into the same pattern as the man before. Only this time, she told the whole office about it as others labeled him as weird or an outcast.

Ever since then, he swore off dating.

It hurt to know the person you trusted enough to pour your heart out to was the one to betray you. Jimin knew eventually he was going to want to find love and settle down but for now, he’s content.

He ended up creating a blog. A safe place to be himself and express his needs and wants to the world anonymously. In the beginning, it was simple fiction stories to get his mind off of the things. His mind wants to cope with the kinks (he realizes), not too many people share. It wasn’t until he met someone who told him about BDSM clubs and so forth. At first, Jimin blew them off. Choked it up to them being a weirdo but then he researched it and that’s when he knew there were people out there like him. Men who love to get dominated. Men who love when women dominate them.

Club Black Whip was the club that ended up becoming his favorite after visiting several ones. Though he only visited when he wanted a dose of inspiration or to feed into his own desires. It took him a minute to participate with others but when he started to let loose, he found the experience a lot more pleasant.

That’s where he met you.

You were the fifth person he had a session with and you were going to be his last. If things didn’t work out the way that it did. You were the dominant he clicked with the most. He often left your sessions feeling satisfied but yearning to see you more. Eventually, he became a regular of yours. You would meet outside of the club whenever either if you didn’t want to go. You were so gentle and empathetic. He found himself being comfortable with having you as his domme. His feelings began to tread the thin line between friends and lovers. You quickly became his safe haven. Someone he could confide in. Someone he knew wouldn’t spill his secrets to the next person listening.

Someone he could see himself being with.

Spiritually, Mentally, Physically, and Emotionally.

When you expressed your desire to want to take care of him, he had the softest heart eyes someone could make a person. His heart soared higher than the clouds. He knew you saw other sub’s on the side but he also knew that he was your favorite. You never saw any of his fantasies as strange and he was thankful to find someone so understanding. You were never judgemental. You wanted him for him and it was everything he ever wanted…

And yet, with Jimin being hurt so many times, he was hesitant to jump into another relationship. He started to panic and in return, he kept you at arm's length because he didn’t want to be disappointed. He didn’t want to break this… illusion he had of you. And well, he didn’t want to disappoint you with the burden of dating someone who has been scorned.

Eventually the talks with others helped Jimin come to the realization that you were nothing like his past lovers. You were (and still are) genuine and honest. Caring. Affectionate. Considerate. He can go on and on but he knows he’s never had a connection with someone like he has with you and that realization led to Jimin asking you out on a date. Jimin remembers the warning Yoongi gave when he told Yoongi he was going to meet you at a nearby Dutch Bros to finally talk things over. Granted. Yes. He doesn’t know you outside of the club but (aside from the texting and phone calls) but Jimin was determined to get to know you.

He wouldn’t let you slip through his fingers a second time.

That day vividly etched in his memory…

There was some texting back and forth before you told him your ride was pulling into the parking lot. Jimin's nerves didn't do him justice either. He was already anxious the moment he got your text. A sudden rush of butterflies fluttered in his stomach as his heart began to drum. The wildest thing to note is that he’s seen you in all types of lingerie, leather and suits but the fact that he’ll be able to see you in your casual wear makes him nibble on his bottom lip.

It feels more intimate. More… exclusive.

He pulls out his phone and smiles at the fluctuation of text between Yoongi and Jungkook in their group chat. Many of them were asking if he was okay and if he had spoken to you yet. The latter asking Jimin to at least let him know he’s still alive. It gets a giggle out of him as he texts them back. Yoongi and Jungkook always told him they felt his blog was a safer option (not by much because there was still a risk of weirdo’s) but he digresses.

“Jimin?” He raises his head at the sound of your voice. “Hey!”

“H-Hi. Hey.” He’s quick to stand but in the process, he accidentally knees the table. He hisses with you immediately flock to his side to make sure he’s okay.

“You have to be careful, love.” You grab a hold of his calf to lay his leg on top of yours to massage. “Does it hurt?”

“No. I’m okay.” Jimin tries to hide his smile at the way you’re taking care of him. It feels good to be taken care of like this even if it’s something minor. He can’t help the smile that spreads.”I’m sorry for making y-” Jimin gasps when you place a finger to his lips.

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay, honey.” You run your fingers up his calf as he shivers to the touch. Jimin swore it was like gazing into the sun. Blinded by how pretty your smile is. And when you spoke, your voice was a different story. Usually, he’s listening to you bark orders over the music within the club. Your speaking voice sounds so different. So smooth. Velvety. He felt like he was melting into a puddle just listening to you talk about nothing and everything. And when your brunch date was over he asked to see you again.

It’s been a little over two years since that day and Jimin still feels as if he’s on cloud nine. Quite frankly, since you've been together, the both of you stopped visiting the club and he forgot about his diary. He didn’t have a need for it anymore now that you were here and it seemed like your relationship was going to last. You were understanding of his needs. You were willing to do any and everything to make him happy. You are his everything but he knew he was going to have to sit you down and have a serious talk with you about everything once you officially started dating.

That happened six months into your relationship when you were both comfortable discussing certain topics without him growing anxious.

He sat you down with a soft huff as he typed in his url to reveal his well kept secret. He let you scroll on your own as his nerves ran into overdrive. His leg bounced and he nibbled into his bottom lip when he saw the frown on your face. When you asked him what this was, he bashfully told you it was things he’s always wanted to try with his significant other. Unfortunately, in the past, they would turn him down and make fun of him as if his needs didn’t matter. Your glare told him everything he needed to know. He didn’t mean to start crying but when you began to console him, everything came crashing down over him.

He didn't realize how much it affected him until now.

“Oh baby,” You spun the chair until you were facing him to grab him by his hand and pull into your lap. You told him it would never be that way with you and that if he ever wanted to try something, he needed to let you know. You’ll be more than happy to indulge in whatever fantasy he wants as long as it’s talked about.

You wanted him to let loose. Be adventurous.

From then on, you urged him to do the things he wanted to do and as time passed, you kept discovering new things he wanted to try. He’s also been more vocal about it as well.

There was one time when you let him sit on your lap while you took a public train to get to Yoongi’s house. He wanted cuddles but didn’t want to wait (in which you didn’t mind). When people would stare, you would glare as if to tell them to mind their business. You didn’t care. You weren’t hurting anyone. As long as he was happy, you were ecstatic.

Another time was when he asked if you could pick him up and carry him around your shared bedroom. He felt light as a feather, his body vibrating with happiness. His arms were bound loosely around your neck and his legs wrapped tightly around your waist while he was nuzzling his face into your neck. It made him feel adored. Loved. Wanted. Something Jimin hasn’t felt romantically in a long time.

Right now, he remains seated on the couch as he’s watching some show on television (that’s not really important to him). He’s waiting for you to return, noting it’s after six. You needed some things for your dinner you were going to have with some of your friends tomorrow. It was your annual game night and well, it was your turn to host. He hasn’t seen or talked to you since this morning, aside from face timing you during his lunch period. All he wants to do is cuddle and give you all his love and vice versa. Jimin told you he was going to be late because his dance class ran over longer than he anticipated so you decided to go to the store. In the end, it didn’t run over by much and Jimin ended up beating you home. He wonders if you’re on your way home. Hopefully you won’t be too long. He’s so bored. He doesn’t know what to do with himself right now.

06:12pm | Petal🥰 : I’m home! Let me know if you need help. SENT

A couple minutes later, your ringtone blares. He doesn’t even remember turning it up but he’s quick to answer it.

“Honey!”

“Hey sugar. I’m outside.” He hears you grunt, knowing you might need his help. “Can you come help bring the groceries in?”

“I’ll be right out.” He’s quick to press end, his excitement to see you through the roof. He slips on his sweats and grabs his house shoes off the rack to meet you outside by your car. He can see the frustration in your eyes when a bag twists your finger a certain way.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t expecting it to twist like that,” You chuckle. He grabs a couple of bags to take inside as he watches you leave to drop off the ones you have in the kitchen.

“How much did you get?”

“Not that much. I think.” You look down at the rest of the plastic bags in your trunk before looking back at him with a soft smile. “I made sure to get stuff to make your favorite.”

“Really?”

“Of course, my Pretty Petal.” You grin before pinching his cheeks. His nose scrunches as he wiggles out of your grip to try his best to grab a couple of more bags without hurting his hand. He loves that you’re always thinking of him even when it’s something as small as this. “There's not much left.”

“Okay.” He runs back into the house to drop off his bags, coming back out with quickness. He goes to grab more bags but before he can, you stop him.

“Sugar, What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” You’re quick to push him against the car door and lean in for a kiss. It’s nothing but a quick peck, but you notice he instantly melts against your touch. He blushes when he realizes but you’re quick to stop him from becoming shy. “N-Nothing, My Love.”

“Nu-Uh. Look at me,” You whisper while rubbing your thumb across his bottom lip. He instantly takes it into his mouth and sucks on it. Hard.

“I-It’s nothing. I just missed you,” He mumbles as you beam with pride at how soft your baby is.

“Well… Let’s finish so I can show you how much I missed you,” You hum, moving to let him head toward the house. Before he can get too far, you smack him on the ass to give him a little boost. He lets off a tiny moan, hurrying to take the groceries into the house.

When he comes back out, he glances around before asking, “Is that it?”

“Yeah, I have a couple more things if you wanna start putting everything else away. I’ll be right behind you.”

Jimin nods, running back into the house to finish his tasks. Although, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. You shrug it off and grab the rest of the bags and head inside to see he’s halfway done.

“Is everything there?” You questioned, setting the rest of the bags down on the counter. “I should be able to make enough to last the night.”

“For the Yubuchobap and Fried Chicken?”

“Mhm.” You smile, watching as he reaches to put the cans in the cupboard. You move to stand behind him as you lift his oversized shirt to run your fingers down his spine before reaching his ass. He shivers at the feeling, loving how your lips feel against the back of his neck. “That's what you wanted me to make, right little dove?”

He nods, whining softly and pushing himself back into you to try and get you to touch him more. When you give his ass a light smack, he immediately stops.

“Please…”

“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” You chuckle into his ear, giving his ear lobe a soft nip before letting your hands roam lower. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already melting.”

“Because your touch feels too good.”

You hum, “I bet it does, Prince. And where do you want my touch?”

“All over me.” Jimin bucks his hips as you run your hand over the bulge in his sweats.

“Are you sure?” You tease while stroking him over his clothes. You can hear his breathing pick up as his oversized shirt falls off his shoulder. “Show me.”

He brings your left hand to his throat while placing the right at the hem of his sweats. When you pull them down, you reveal the secret of his cute purple lace boy shorts he decided to wear. His ass looks phenomenal and you can’t help but give him another smack on the cheek. This time, you knead the skin so he doesn’t bruise too much.

“Awww,” You coo, listening to how hot he sounds when he moans your name. “Don’t you look lovely.”

“I wore them for you.” He gasps once you start to palm at his cock through the underwear, the friction itself is enough to make him weak at the knees. “I-I wanted to look pretty.”

“And you look gorgeous, Petal.” His head falls back against your chest as you continue to feel him up. He ruts into your hand and bites his bottom lip the moment you squeeze it.

“Mommy… P-Please…”

“Please what?” You smirk, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. You dip your hand in the front of his panties and stroke him, feeling the pre-cum oozing onto your hand. You can feel just how hard he is just from your touch. Listening to him whine and plead makes you wetter at the fact that he’s this way because of you.

“I want you,” He murmurs, “Can we go to the bedroom?”

“Or we can do it here.” Your eyebrows quirk while you smirk mischievously. “You wanted to do it with the blinds open, didn’t you? That was one of your fantasies, wasn’t it?”

“I—I… Well, yeah but what if he sees?” You follow his line of sight to see your next door neighbor, Namjoon, is in his kitchen on his laptop. Whoever built your duplex had the bright idea to make the window tall but narrow and unless you have blinds or curtains covering them, anyone can see through inside. Also with your kitchens facing the same direction, all he has to do is look over and he would have a full view of everything.

In which, you know he would love that. You’ve seen the way he looks at Jimin as if he wants to devour him whole. The only reason he hasn’t been invited into your bedroom is because Jimin doesn’t want it. And well, you don’t want to have to fight someone over Jimin.

“And if he does?” You push him forward to lean him over the counter. Jimin wouldn’t admit it but he loves being manhandled by you but the thought of Namjoon seeing the two of you is making him worry. “Sweetheart, you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

Jimin’s cherub cheeks flare once he puffs them out. The red slowly tints over the pink. He’s thinking about it. He knows it’s something the two of you discussed but actually following through with it is a different story.

“Baby? Look at me.” You pause your movements to turn him around to face you. Your hand goes to cup his face while removing your other hand from his underwear. You never want to make him uncomfortable. Ever. And if this isn’t something that he wants to do then you’ll move the party somewhere else. “Petal, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. We can always stop.”

He gazes over at his neighbor who is immersed in his own world. The man is so absorbed in his laptop work. What are the odds he’d actually look over? Jimin takes the chance to glance over, just for a moment and then looks back at you.

“Okay,” He breathes, his lips crashing into yours. It’s rushed but his lips are soft. The taste of his peach chapstick is ever so present too. “I want to.”

It’s the thrill of getting caught for him. The thrill of knowing Namjoon can look but he definitely can’t touch. The thrill of knowing that he’s your and yours alone. No matter how many times you share your bed with others, it’s always going to be you and him.

“I’m serious.” You pause what you’re doing to get him to look you in your eyes. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable. He’s had enough of that in his previous relationships. “We don’t have to, honey.”

“I want to,” He says, kissing your jawline then down to your neck before throwing his arms around your waist. You lean back to not influence his decision as he whines about not being able to kiss you but you bring your thumb up to rub the corner of his lips.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you sure?” “I’m positive, Mommy.” He grabs your waist and pulls you into his front. Bringing your hand down to his cock to rub it again. “Please touch me…” You chuckle at how needy he is before running your hand up his chest to gently wrap around his neck.

“As you wish, my dear.” You lean forward to kiss his delicate lips one more time before yanking his shirt over his head and yanking his panties down. “I want to see you. All of you.” He whimpers when you slowly lower yourself, nipping at his belly until you’re on your knees in front of him. You glance up to take in his expressions. Eyes hooded, mouth agape and waiting. He loves how you tease. Flicking your fingers over his nipples while kissing and nipping at his muscular thighs.

Your mouth waters at the sight of how endowed he is and when you start to stroke him, his head falls back in utter bliss. It always amazes you with how much he’s packing. He’s not even fully hard yet but with the way you’re about to work your mouth around him, it definitely won’t take long.

“Oh fuck.” He releases a sigh as he tries to silence his sounds. He brings his fist to his mouth to try and muffle the sounds of his moaning but you’re quick to pull it away. “Don’t you dare,” You warn him, only to receive a whine in return. “I wanna hear how pretty you sound, Petal.”

Your hand pressed to his hip for leverage as he refrains from putting his hands on your head for leverage of his own. Instead, he squeezes the counter until his knuckles start to turn white because the feel of your mouth is godsend. The way you work your tongue around the tip of his dick has him so close to coming undone but he wants to hold on until he can’t anymore.

“Oh, That f-feels so good.”

“Yeah? You like that, Petal?” You ask, voice hoarse for wear but holy shit you sound so fucking sexy and it makes Jimin want to shove his cock even further down your throat. In which, he knows you can take it. You do it every time.

“I do…” He mewls, his voice trembling with the way his stomaching is starting to coil. You’re so good at pleasuring him that he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover if the two of you don’t work out. “P-Please..”

“Please what, my love?” You ask with a pop of your lips, opting to continue jacking him off with the added twist of your wrist. He can hear how sloppy it’s getting, the sounds turning him more than it should. He always loves the way you slurp him down. How you work his cock until he cums in and all over you.

As you continue to suck his dick, Jimin takes the chance to look over to see that your neighbor has noticed your activity. Though, he’s trying his best to be oblivious to what’s going on.

“Holy shit…” Jimin gasps, pretty mouth falling open as he moans, “I-nngh-I think he sees us.”

You pull your mouth off him to glance over noticing he’s sitting at the island and eating. His phone is up like he’s doing something on it but you think he’s recording. When you smirk at him, he fumbles with it as it crashes to the ground. You’re pretty sure the screen is cracked.

“Let’s give him a show then. Are you okay with that?” “Yes.” Jimin whimpers when you let go of his cock, helping him sit up on the counter. Pushing his leg up, he hooks it around your waist and he leans up to kiss you, darting his tongue into your mouth. He can faintly taste himself as he grinds into your front.

The rough material of your shirt helps just a little bit. You nip at his bottom lip, pulling it toward you as you push his legs further apart. “Get comfortable,” You whisper in his ear, “I’ll be back.” “W-Where are you going?” His eyes widened as he leaned on his elbows. He goes to close his legs but you pop him in his inner thigh as if to tell him no. He pouts, “Don’t leave.”

“I’ll be back, baby. Get comfortable for me, my prince.”

When he calls your name you simply tell him you’re going to get a toy as you saunter off toward the room without a care in the world. Jimin gnaws at his bottom lip and lays back against the cold surface of the isle counter.

He doesn’t want to look over.

He doesn’t want to know if Namjoon’s still getting a full show at your expense but he can’t deny the fact that it’s turning him on more that you have an audience. Granted, he would never let him touch him. Hell, you don’t really like sharing (in which Jimin is more than okay with that) so he has nothing to worry about.

But of course… he’s still curious so he takes the chance to glance out the window to see that Namjoon is gone. Jimin sighs, relieved for a second that he wouldn’t make eye contact with his neighbor. A very hot but weird neighbor.

“H-Honey?” Jimin sits up and calls out to you. You’re taking forever! Where are you? What the hell are you doing? Why were you taking forever?

So many questions that have no answer. He starts to scoot toward the edge but, before he can jump off, he hears your bare footsteps against the tiles. You’re coming back and he realizes he’s moved out of his spot. He clicks his tongue, scooting back and lying down in the position he was in.

“You look so cute, baby.” You nip at your bottom lip, eyeing him up and down because he’s so damn fine.

“Please touch me!” Jimin whines, reaching out for you to come closer. Which you do, but not close enough for his liking. “You didn’t move, did you?” You question, seeing him furiously shake his head. Your purple manicure nails lightly scratched down his stomach before wrapping around his cock to stroke.

“Oh…” Jimin falls back against the counter as you move to stand between his legs. He wraps his legs around your waist to pull you closer. It feels so good but you’re being too soft right now.

“You wouldn’t lie to me baby, now would you?”

“No!” Jimin’s breaths hitch as he tries to sit up but, you’re quick to push him back down by his chest. ”N-No, I wouldn’t.”

You hum, setting the new tropical fruit-flavored lube you bought earlier next to him on the counter. Your eyes meet and he knows what you want to do. He’s down for it. He wants you to make him cum.

He’s ready.

“You’re so eager, Petal.” You lick your lips, giving his thick thigh a slap before kneading the flesh. The more he lays still there the more he starts to become self-conscious but when you start caressing his body he tenses a little more. He’s gnawing his lip at this point and you’re afraid he’s going to break the skin if he keeps going. You want him to relax and what better way than to sing his praise. He needs to be opened up before he can take the bigger reward. If you decide to give it to him.

“You’re so good for me, Petal.” You bring your index finger to your mouth to lick it before rubbing your index finger against his rim. He clenches before relaxing only slightly and moaning the moment you push inside. You get him to bend his legs so his feet can sit on the edge of the counter. Opening him up wider.

“Aren’t you baby?”

“Yes,” He whimpers as he tries to move closer to you. He looks so cute wiggling to try and fuck himself on his fingers until you slap him on his balls to get him to stop moving so much. His eyes roll to the back of his head, biting his lip harder. He’s trying so hard not to come from the bare minimum but you do it so well, he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold it. “I was good. I didn’t move.”

“I know you didn’t, my pretty petal.”

Jimin moans at the praise, begging for you to continue touching him where he needs it the most.

You lean closer to kiss his inner thighs. He’s trembling under your touch, whining about wanting to cum but you don’t want him to.

Not yet.

You stop and take the moment to pour more lube onto your finger as Jimin gasps at the warm, wet finger pushing past his rim again. He hisses at the light sting but relishes in the way you’re opening him up. Relishing in the attentive attention you’re giving him. Relishing the fact that Namjoon wants what he can’t have. You can see it in his eyes, hear it in his labored breathing that he’s so close to losing himself but he wants to be obedient.

He doesn’t want to cum until you tell him to. “M-More…” He pleads, hearing you chuckle at his desperation though you give him what he wants. You press two-lube soaked fingers into him, still making sure he’s comfortable. When he gives you the okay, you begin pumping said fingers in and out of him, hearing his high pitch moans. “Is that enough or do you want more?” You ask, still pumping in and out of him. He can barely get a word out when you begin to slow down and he cries for you not to stop. “More?”

“Y-Yes! Please!”

“More fingers?” You mock him teasingly, hearing him groan as he tries to sit up but you’re quick to press back into his chest. “Or do you want this?”

You wave the silicone toy in his face, seeing him salivate at the sight.

“I want the toy,” He exhales, but you shake your head. “Pretty please can I have it?”

“Well then I would have to open you up some more, baby.” You coo when he wiggles closer. He doesn’t care. He wants you to do what you have to. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes. Please.”

You remove your fingers to pull him off the counter and turn him around to bend him over it. He hates the feeling of being empty but he knows you’re going to fill him up again soon. He nods when your hand comes down with force. It causes him to jerk forward. At this point, he’s leaking. He wants you to finish opening him up so you can fuck him properly.

He wants to cum so bad.

“Just a little bit more, Petal.” You whisper close to his ear before nipping at it. “Your ass is just so amazing. It sucks my fingers right in because of how wet you are.”

You praise him with another slap on his left cheek before kneading the soreness out.

“I could play with it all day.”

He can feel your nails drag up and down the back of his thighs. His legs quiver, falling forward as he fights to not cum untouched. You’re making it so goddamn hard, he doesn’t know how he is going to last.

“So pretty and wet. I love everything about you, my love.” You’re on your knees again and he knows what’s coming next when you grip both his cheeks to pull them apart.

“All for me.”

“It’s yours, Mommy!”

The last part of his sentence jumps octaves when you run your tongue from his balls to his awaiting hole. The wet, warm muscle feels amazing as he pushes back for you to go deeper. Especially when you reach between his legs to start stroking him again. His breath hitches but, it soon turns into lustrous moans when he feels the fire building in the pit of his stomach faster than before. You flick your tongue before going to tongue fuck his hole, hoping it’ll bring him to his orgasm. As far as you can tell with the way his knees buck and the way his moans get louder and louder with each fuck, he’s soaring close to it. He grips the counter for leverage when you remove your tongue only to start fingering him again. This time faster, hitting his prostate over and over until his mind is completely shattered. All he feels is your hands caressing his body. Your mouth leaves kisses and licks in places that have his toes curling. When your mouth is wrapped around his cock from the back, he loses it.

Honestly, he doesn't know how much more he can take.

“I-I’m—Cum—Oh fuck!” He cries when you release him from your mouth to go back to eating him out. He reaches back to push you in further but, the slap that comes down to his ass lets him know he’s out of line. “I wanna c-cum, M-Mommy. Pleaseee, Let me!”

“Do you want to, Petal?” You ask, stopping your movement in favor of letting his fire die. You notice his head falls forward as the back of his neck is covered in a sheen of sweat. His breathing grows labored and he looks so damn hot begging for his release. “Or do you wanna feel me first?”

He doesn’t have to glance back to know what you’re talking about. He can feel the silicone rubbing against his ass and he can’t help but vibrate with excitement. He hates the fact that he loves being edged. He hates that you know he does too. And he hates that you love doing it because you do it so fucking well.

“I wanna feel you please…”

“Thought so.” You preen at how fucked he is. Eyes hooded, mind all fuzzy and dazed. He looks so damn cute. “I can’t wait to wreck you. Is that what you want, baby?”

Jimin nods as he can feel the traces of your fingertips along his spine. They travel down, down, down until you reach his backside. You give it a hard smack before squeezing his ass to your heart's content.

"Good because I'm the one that gets to ravish you until you can't think of anything but me." You kiss his cheek to hear him sigh out in response. "I'm the one that gets to fuck you until you're brain-dead and can't think of anything but the way that little plastic cock drills your wet hole. Hold your cheeks apart, baby."

He does as he's told, too enamored by the kiss to think otherwise. You know he has a pretty view of Jimin as you pump your fingers in and out, letting them brush against his prostate over and over again. You can feel his pleasure in the way he moans into your kiss, and it only fuels your desire.

"You're doing so good, baby. So good for me, honey."

"You're going to make me hard again."

"Hm. Is that right?"

“Yes…”

“Good.” You hum, fingers pulling his cheeks apart as he buries his head into the crook of your neck the moment you start to circle your index finger around his rim. Jimin knows what you're thinking and god, does it make it harder just thinking about you claiming him in front of others? "You think Namjoon would fuck you this good?"

"No..." Jimin whines, rutting against your thighs and fucking himself back on your fingers when you add a second. "You fucked me so good. You ruined me for anyone else."

"I did, huh?" You know you did and for as long as he lets you, you'll continue to do so. "And you know I'm not done with you yet."

"I know. I don't want you to be." His nails dig into your back as it's your turn to kiss his sweetly swollen lips. "Keep ruining me."

"Oh honey," You tease, nipping at his bottom lip as he chases after you. "I'll ruin you for as long as you want me to." Instead of letting him kiss you, you place your finger over his mouth and allow him to throw his arms around your shoulders to hold you close. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

That’s when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. Realizing your neighbor is back in his seat and still trying his best to make sure you don’t notice what he’s doing. It’s clear as day though and in this moment, you think of Jimin.

“Baby?” You turn your attention back to Jimin who looks so unbelievably fucked from your touch. “Stay with me, Petal. Answer me.”

“Please…” He whines, laying his head on your chest as you take the moment to shower him with the love he deserves. Kisses to his cheeks, jawline, and where else your lips can touch. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Pretty.” Jimin blushes, harder. He grows impatient as he realizes he can’t feel you touching him anymore. “My pretty petal.”

“Mommy…” He urges, snuggling right into your neck. Unsure if he’s the reason you’ve stopped. Why did you stop? “P-Please move. I wan’-”

“Baby, listen to me.” He gasps the moment you nip at his bottom lip, eyes finding yours to look into. He looks so beautiful like this. Under your thumb and ready and willing to do whatever it is you want him to do. “Are you still okay with this?”

“Huh?” He pouts and you want nothing more than to kiss it away but you need an answer from him before you continue.

“With him watching.”

You don’t want to make it obvious that you know because from Namjoon's perspective, he doesn’t think you do.

“We can go to our bedroom or the living room if you don’t want to. Yes or no.”

“Yes.” Jimin nods so hard, you swear his head is going to fall off his shoulders. “Wan’ cum.”

You glance at your nosey neighbor one more time before deciding for him. He’s not in a good state of mind to make decisions and you would feel awful if he came to regret his decision later.

“No, No.” You remove yourself from Jimin, noticing he’s dropping more into his subspace by the second. He needs to be in the comfort of the two of you not to be gawked at like a piece of meat. “Baby, come with me.”

You grab everything off the counter before taking his hand and leading him into the living room. He has a permanent pout on his face but you know just what to do to get him in high spirits again.

“Does my baby want his reward for being patient and obedient?” You ask, oh so sweetly, as you lead him to sit on the couch. “I’m ready to give it to you.”

He nods but he knows that’s not good enough.

“Words, Petal. Let me hear you.”

“I want it.” He pants, opening his legs wider for you to kneel in front of him. His cock is as red as a tomato, looking as if it’s ready to explode. You lean down to lick the pre-cum off the tip as he whines for more. “I want you, Mommy. Please touch me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes!” You notice tears pricking at his eyes and you don’t want to see him in any more pain. He deserves his release and you’re planning on giving it to him. You reach for the lube beside the couch and pour a generous amount of it all over the toy you were going to use on him tonight. You can practically hear Jimin purr and it spurs you on more.

“Are you ready, Petal?” “I am.”

You rub the toy from his balls to his rectum before tapping it against his balls and watching his cock jump from excitement. You know if you hit the right spot, he will cum. Honestly, It’s what you’re banking on.

“Baby, hold your legs up for me.” You help him by placing his feet on the edge of the couch and pulling his bottom closer to you for leverage. He eyes you curiously, unsure of what you’re about to do. You want him to cum, want him to finally get the release he deserves since you’ve been edging him as you slowly insert the toy back into him.

Only, instead of starting to move it, you angle it so it’ll graze his prostate if he moves.

“Be still, pretty,” You warn as he whines, his head falling back against the couch. He loves it when you’re ruthless with your teasing , but now, he wants to feel you close.

‘You want me. my prince?” His eyes light up the moment you move away as he watches you stand to your feet to pull your leggings down your legs and off to the side. Uncaring of where they land. He realizes a minute too late that you weren’t wearing any underwear and before he can say anything, you move his legs back down and in the process, it pushes hard against him as he moans.

“I want you…” He whimpers, biting his bottom lip as you make the move to stand above him on the couch. His eyes go straight to your pussy and wet you are. The way it’s glistening in the light makes his mouth water even more. “Mommy,” He moans, brain focused on one thing and that’s to pleasure you. “Please.”

“Like what you see, Honey?” You squat to hover over his lap, grabbing his jaw to bring his face closer. You kiss his lips as he melts in your embrace and it’s the cutest thing you’ve seen. “You want me to fuck you, my prince.”

“I do,” He whispers against your lips and well, who are you to deny such a request? “Take me…”

“Oh, baby I’m going make you cum so hard you’re not gonna remember how to speak.”

At that, Jimin’s mind goes into a frenzy as he tries to raise his hips to be closer to you but you stop him.

“Have a little patience, baby.” You kiss down his neck as you nip and bite at the spot that makes him lose his mind. He’s so close! So, so close and he doesn’t know what to do. “Put your hands behind your back, sweetheart, and keep them there.”

He practically sits on his hands and when you deem him ready, you make quick work of grabbing his cock and lining it up with your wet cunt. He waits in anticipation once you make eye contact, his mouth falling open the moment you take all of him. You sit briefly, eyes scrunched close and listening to his soft pants.

“You fit me perfectly.” You moan, seeing Jimin with tears brimming at the corner of his eyes.

“You feel so good,” He softly sighs, feeling the way your pussy clenches around him. With how much you’ve edged him, he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll last but he wants to try to last as much as he can. “I-I’m ready…”

“You’re so soft, baby.” You pepper kisses all over his cheek and jawline that he closes his eyes to accept. The feeling of being so loved by someone that it’s making his heart want to burst from his chest he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t wanna do anything but you. “You look so pretty.”

“Only pretty for you.”

“Yeah? No one else?”

“No one compares to you, mommy.” His face falls into the crook of your neck as he whimpers at the feeling of him bottoming out inside you. “Oh god…” Jimin sighs, nails digging into his wrists as he tries his hardest not to touch you no matter how much he wants to. “M-Move, please.”

You’re slow to rotate your hips, loving the way his cock drags against your walls. He’s so thick that he fits you so snug and the way your walls clench around him has him almost blowing his load.

“I can’t-”

“Yes you can, baby.” You lift your hips before sitting on his cock to begin rocking back and forth. You roll your hips and he can feel the way your pussy clenches against his cock.

“Touch. ‘Wan touch. ‘M so c-close. Please!”

“Go ahead, Petal.” You smile and when he grabs you by the waist, you can’t help but pick up your pace. He can feel your breast drag against his chest every time you go up and down. The skin to skin contact feels so good, it makes him feel like he’s on fire. His body burns from the intensity of your movements. “Feels good?”

“So good.”

Jimin squeezes your waist as you let out a moan. You find yourself wanting to kiss Jimin as you press your lips into his. It starts slow and soft, before pressing harder and pushing your tongue into his mouth. He kisses you back eagerly as your tongues intertwine. Deep and passionate. The sounds of the couch scraping against the wooden floor is like nails to a chalkboard the more you continue to ride him but his moans outweigh it.

You smile into the kiss as his eyes flutter shut. He is savoring the moment.

"I'm close. Again. Close so close..." He whines, unable to keep up with the feeling burning in his stomach. He feels like he's about to explode with pleasure. He's dropping further and further into his sub-drop as he clings to you harder. He holds you as close as he physically can but you know it's not enough for him. He's going to need more and you're going to give your baby what he wants.

"You're almost there, sweetie."

"Please..." He can feel your hand between your bodies, no doubt going to play with your clit to help you cum. He would help but he’s so lost, he’s not sure if he’ll be much use. “Cum… with me?”

"Mhm, Stay with me, honey."

"Please, Please!" He's breathless, nails digging in your back as he's lost in fucking himself in your pussy. You moaning out that your cumming only fuels his fire. He’s coming in hot behind you. "Cum... Cum... I'm-"

You feel his warm cum seep into you the moment it happens as you let him finally ride out his orgasm. He shudders before whining about being sensitive and wet.

"Fuck..." His eyes roll to the back of his head and for a second, you can't help but feel a surge of pleasure ripple through you. You take a deep breath and smile, feeling satisfied and pleased. You reach a hand up to brush his hair back from his face and kiss his forehead. He's still before slumping against your chest, exhausted. You wrap your arms around him, feeling your heart swell with so much love.

"Jimin.” You hold Jimin's face, and seeing the look of relief that washes over his features makes you feel a sense of love. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Feeling good?"

"Feeling great." He reassures you, leaning forward to kiss you on the lips. He grabs your arms to get you to wrap them around his waist. You can feel him grin against your neck, mimicking his gesture because that’s all you want for him. “It was amazing.” “Really?”

"Yes.” He squeezes your waist before doing his best to hold you still. “I also wanted to say thank you."

"For what, my love?"

“Being so good to me.” Jimin grins as he throws his arms around your neck to pull you closer. You fall against his chest in a fit of laughter but he knows it’s not in a fit of mocking.

“That’s all I want to be. You deserve the world Jimin and I plan to give it to you.” You bring your hand to his cheek to caress as he melts into your embrace. He knows this but hearing you say it makes his heart flutter even more. “Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise, baby.”

He nods, trying to hide his blushing cheeks. He feels as if he’s on cloud nine and he doesn’t want to come down.

“Baby look at me.”

He leans back to look at you with a lovesick smile. He’s drunk off you and quite honestly, it’s the best feeling in the world.

“You’re so pretty.” You smile back, finally feeling him soften inside of you. Do you want to get up? No not at all but when you check the time, you realize you’re going to be late. “Baby, we should get up.”

“No!” He’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist to hold you still. “You’re so warm. Don’t wanna leave…”

“We’re going to be late.”

Jimin whines, uncaring of anything other than loving you. You know when he gets like this, it gets hard for him to come back without the proper coaxing. So Instead, you lean into his warmth, holding his head into your breath as you hear him release the breath he was holding. You play with the hair on the back of his neck and there’s a moment where all you want to do is stay here in his arms.

“Baby?” You lean back to kiss his forehead as he looks at you with nothing but love sparkling in his eyes. “Do you wanna just stay here? We can order takeout.”

He nods and well, you know neither of you are going to get up any time soon.

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