#but for some fucking reason this straight woman showed up

[caramiaaddio]

I’m not against straight people as a concept but in practice…not the biggest fan

[icewindandboringhorror]

I still very loathe the Media Trope of ‘’cold genius man doesn’t feel emotions and never has relationships... UNTIL.. one random relatively bland Preddy Woman comes along and warps his entire personality and ability to think, his heart has grown and his seeming asexuality has evaporated, he is now Normal :)” or whatever like... AS a walking generic hermit archetype myself.. we would NOT act like that .... just let people be detached weirdos in peace, you cowards .. OR, don’t bother to write one in the first place if you find us too boring to exist realistically in our natural state lol.. pathetic 

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

[targaryenluvs]

Can you make a fic with a dark coriolanus x reader

Post Lucy running away where he stays a peace keeper for some time and he helped reader avoid being picked for the games and he abuses his power as peace keeper against reader whom he helped and holds it over her head (she has no family but her friends are like family) and he does all types of fucked up stuff to her sexually and he fetishizes her for being a woc (reader is a woman of color) and he fetishizes her skin or something and he keeps saying all creepy stuff and he then marries her (after convincing her no one would want her after him) and parades her around and shows off to capitol ppl who also fetishize her and she becomes basically his property with a creepy nickname and you pick the ending

BROWN JEWEL

pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!poc!reader

summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

warnings: obsession, abuse of power, nc touching, threats, forced marriage, fetishisation of skin color?? non-con (p in v), public sex, pregnancy, forced marriage, jealousy of infants? kisses, kinda stockholm/reader gives in

wordcount: 3.1k

a/n: audibly gasped reading this rq (i did change it around a bit since some of it i was unsure of how to write and if i felt comfy doing it) i went off track for sure

this was your last year for being involved with the reaping.

just tomorrow then you'd be in the clear for the rest of your life.

you had friends who relied on you, and their families which were practically your own. you’d been raised with them after your parents passed and you owed them your life. you were an amazing hunter and your game kept them going. you were skilled with hunting, medicine, literate because of your best friends mother. you helped them all in so many ways and you knew they needed you.

through your older years, you began to realise you weren’t exactly the same as your friends. their light skin and light eyes in contrast to your darker tones were always a reminder of your unshared bloodline. yet they never treated you any differently.

you had to live for them.

so it was how you ended up in the tree line by the peacekeepers barracks. hoping to bribe one into pulling your name from the bowl before it was placed infront of the justice building. what you didn’t expect was for a soldier to find you first.

“what’re you doing here?” he spoke from behind you as you stumbled to get up. “i... i wanted to talk to someone, to try and uhm, get them to do something for me.” he exuded confidence with his chin in the air and his grip on his gun. he obviously thought he was better than you. “what do you want me to do for you?” you sighed, “i was hoping, to get my name taken out of the reaping bowl.” he tilted his head, a smirk on his face and you wanted to peel your skin off with the way he was looking at you.

“come closer.” and you did, stepping into the moonlight. he found you to be gorgeous, glowing. “i’ll do it.” your eyes widened as you smiled, “thank you!” and he took a step closer to you, “but what will i get in return?”

and that’s when you should’ve run for the hills.

at the reaping ceremony, he coincidentally placed himself right next to your row. his stares were harsh on your back. your hands were sweating and you couldn’t think straight until that name was called, and it wasn’t yours.

“we’re safe.” your friend whispered into your ear as you smiled at her, “yeah, we are.” but for some reason you weren’t convinced. the peacekeeper was on you like a shadow ever since the day before. on the walk home he was following you and you knew it, but if you confronted him you had no clue what he’d do to you. so you felt it best to keep your head down, and get home. you didn’t expect for him to barge his way in.

“what’re you doing?” your voice was shaky and you could feel the perspiration on you, for someone reason this man made your body go haywire and you wanted to leave. “why? can’t i come see the pretty girl i saved?” your head was facing downwards as you began to mumble, “my names only in eight times, my odds were low anyways. a lot of people took tessera.” you heard him click his tongue, tutting and shaking his head in disagreement, “seven.”

he was right infront of you now, and as he bent down to whisper in your ear, you froze up, “i don’t do things for free y/n. when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect.” he held your face in his hand as you asked, “what’s your name?” he smiled, “coriolanus, but you can call me corio.” and he held you to it.

every time you saw him he’d be unbelievably smug.

even your friends noticed, “he keeps staring at you, that peacekeeper.” you were having a night out, your senses flooded with music and laughter. but not too far away was coriolanus, downing his beer. you shifted around before slyly looking his way. “it’s probably nothing. you know how these peacekeepers are. i think i’m going to head home.” you kissed her cheek before making your way out and to your home.

you were only a few minutes away when you took notice of the shadow behind you, lurking. “y/n.” you stopped in your tracks and turned his way. “corio.” he grinned at the nickname you used. his expression should've warned you, his words rung through your mind.

an intoxicated man was a dangerous one.

"when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect."

corio held you against the shabby wall as his hands held you in place. your pants swamped at your ankles as he rutted into you harshly. “stay quiet for me yeah?” your hands shoved at his chest but it seemed to be pointless.

“please, please corio not here.” coriolanus couldn’t bring himself to listen to you, and he sure as hell didn’t care if someone saw. what were they going to do? you were his, you needed to realise that. the quicker you did the easier it would be for you. your cries and protests went in one ear and out the other, “shh, i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he cooed, ignoring your pleas.

you felt humiliated, treated like trash. taken in an alleyway like a whore, as coriolanus continued on. your legs felt like jelly and your weight rested on the wall behind. his hands came up to lower your shirt, your breasts spilling out. “fuck, you’re made for me. all mine.” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

“come for me baby. come on.” you didn’t want to, you wanted to run away from him but your breath was laboured as your head lolled back. but even with that he wasn’t done with you. he wanted more. he wanted all of you and he wouldn’t stop until he’d had enough. you weren’t sure if he’d ever get his fill.

your cheeks burned as you walked back to your home, cum-stained panties and shame filling you to the brim. acquaintances walked past, you smiled and waved with fake kindness. your feet dragged along, your legs shaky and hands trembling. you wanted to drag the walk out as long as possible.

coriolanus could tell, but he couldn’t do anything yet. so he grit his teeth and walked with determination.

he’d punish you later.

and it was all you knew. almost every night corio crawled into your home, took you all over the house till dawn. and in return you were able to provide your family with everything they could want.

dana has a cold?

the medicine was at the front door hours later.

peter hurt himself at the mines?

a first aid kit was ready to be picked up by noon.

not a single person around you was hungry, sick or uncared for. all thanks to coriolanus. your friends were able to infer where all your resources came from, but you’d never asked for their aid.

you just wanted to help them, in any way you could.

what you didn’t anticipate was coriolanus in your home, tossing your nicest clothes into a suitcase. the jewellery he’d bought, shoes etc. “what’s going on? why are you packing my things?” he didn’t respond, he just kept packing, moving around the room and throwing in things he deemed important.

“we’re leaving, back to the capitol. you’re coming with me, now help me pack.” you grabbed his wrist in a moment of anger, forgetting your place. “let. go. now.” he demanded as you retracted your hand, “i’m sorry. but, you need to talk to me. i’m not going to the capitol corio, this is my home.” you should’ve known he was going to hate your words.

he grabbed your wrists, fingers digging in as you cried out in pain. “you are coming with me, otherwise i am more than happy to hurt you. all the supplies for your friends? gone. you know i won’t hesitate to hurt them. so if you want them to be taken care of, you’ll listen to me. now pack your things and shut up.” he spit out as you pulled away from him.

you didn’t even get to say goodbye.

the capitol scared you to no extent. the prying eyes, the excessive, almost wasteful, wealth and resources. you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. the people of panem viewed you to be a rare phenomenon. as if darker skin was unattainable. it was nothing like district 12, and you knew you’d never fully fit in. but corio wouldn’t let that be.

coriolanus thrived under dr gaul. overtime he’d been provided with an apartment and inheritance courtesy of the plinths and he was happy to indulge his sweet girl with whatever she could wish for.

the most expensive silks, finest jewels. you felt like a little porcelain doll, with multiple faces. you were bound to crack.

by the time coriolanus snow rose to be the president of panem, all the fight in your body was a distant memory, a shell of your former self. "you have everything you could ever wish for," according to your husband, "but you still think of them." his words were filled with disdain but held an ounce of truth.

your heart yearned for home. for peters terrible cooking. for dana’s flower crowns. nights out with your friends singing your heart out before sneaking out to the lake a certain covey had let slip on. a simple life.

but it all felt to be out of your grasp, far in the back of your mind.

presidential campaigns, parties, shopping, and super rich kids with nothing but fake friends. it was all your new normal. the residents of panem tolerated you for being the first lady of panem, admired you for your looks, and despised you for your background.

you’d never felt more alone.

you found solace in your children. ciron, your baby boy. only five years old but undeniably bright. he was ahead of most children his age in studies, able to remember so much in such a small mind. he was the spitting image of coriolanus. the old coriolanus. curly blonde hair, striking blue eyes. but his kindness, his care for others? that was all his mother. he was the perfect mix, and a huge mommy’s boy. the second he learned something knew he rambled on about it, only to you. he loved to play with your hair, curling it around his fingers.

“now we match mommy!” he smiled as you picked him up, resting him on your hip. “now i’m almost as pretty as you baby.” you teased as you attacked him with kisses on his face. he squirmed in your arms, small hands coming to cover his face. the noise seemed to wake caroline, her squeals and cries echoing through the home.

“shh, we have to be quiet okay?” ciron nodded as the two of you made your way to her nursery. it was caroline’s first birthday today, and coriolanus had spared no expense on your account. the celebration was to be held at your home, filled with people who couldn’t care less. but you just wanted to give her what you never had. a party at the presidents house was rare, and a lot of the hadn’t seen you in a while.

caroline was all you. darker skin than ciron, olive like. brown eyes and dark hair.

during your pregnancy with ciron, coriolanus showed you off to the people. you were regularly seen out and about, at parties, shopping, walking etc. coriolanus took any opportunity to parade you about to the people of panem. something out of their reach but so sweet, so beautiful. you despised it, being seen as nothing more than his property.

“she’s a fine girl you have coriolanus.” grandma’am spoke as she pinched your cheeks, “just have to take the district out of her.” as if you were an animal to be dissected.

“are there any more of her type?” the man joked as coriolanus’s hand tightened on your waist.

you’d always loved yourself, your hair, your skin color, your body. but it all seemed to be under coriolanus’s ownership the second you’d allowed him to take you to the captiol. no one cared about you. no one bothered to help. they just admired and touched when they could.

so you’d plead with him, begging him to let you rest for the remainder of your pregnancy. he surprisingly agreed, letting you confine yourself to your shared room.

and with cirons birth, you felt hope. his wide eyes, consuming all he could with his sight, his tiny fingers wrapping around your finger. your heart swelled with joy at his face, your saving grace.

coriolanus wanted to pry him from your fingers. for the next few weeks your attention was purely on the boy and coriolanus began to feel neglected. he was already traumatised from his own mothers passing, his sister taking her life. with the announcement of your own pregnancy the thoughts poured in.

would the baby take you too?

would he be forced to listen to your screams?

would he have to raise the baby he despised?

he hadn’t even met your child yet and he'd already made his mind up. the baby was no good, an heir was needed of course but at the cost of his wife? would he pay the price?

your screams of agony and pain clawed at his throat. he felt sick, bile rising as he forced it down. coriolanus would not be seen as weak. but he couldn’t help himself, your hands clutched onto his as a lifeline. your pleas for aid, and coriolanus could do nothing. helpless.

the finest doctors in panem, machinery and medicine yet it all seemed useless.

to you it was worth it, the second you held him in your arms. all the pain in the world if it meant you’d have him as the outcome. one of the nurses placed a pair of scissors in his hands, urging him to cut the cord as coriolanus masked his disgust.

snip!

tigris cooed over the baby as lethargy hung over you like a cloud. “isn’t he the sweetest coriolanus?” all he managed was a nod, his focus on you.

his strong wife, who’d given way to new life. your eyes were fluttering close as you murmured, “ciron.” the doctors and nurses gleefully agreed, “what a fine name!” the head doctor announced as he held him in his arms, a nurse taking him away to be cleaned.

and after all that, you were pregnant once more. another child for the happy family but another nuisance in his eyes between yourself and him.

all you ever cared about was the kids.

“has caroline eaten?”

“is ciron awake?”

“is his teacher here yet?”

“coriolanus, i think we need to take ciron shopping again. he’s growing so quickly!” he knew he should’ve been happy. but all he wanted was for you to be his again. you were always too tired for him, already asleep with ciron by your side, taking his place.

or you were breastfeeding caroline, meaning that he was sure he wasn’t going to get to feel you up that night. too sore, too tired, not in the mood. he couldn’t catch a break.

-

you’d decided to have caroline and ciron match. baby blue, how sweet!

it’d only been about an hour in and you’d had enough. these people never really moved on. the same comments about how special you were, how lucky you were. compliments stuffed down your throat you were sure you’d gag.

you grounded yourself with caroline, clutching onto her as coriolanus made the rounds. “anna!” you shouted out to one of your servers. “yes, mrs snow?” you refrained from rolling your eyes at the last name, “bring the cake out, now please.” she wasn’t sure, “mr snow said-” you smiled at her, “caroline’s getting fussy, better if we blow the candles out now so i can feed her and get her to bed.” she scurried away to get everything in order as coriolanus found you.

“sweetheart. you can’t hide the birthday girl at her party.” you chuckled, “i know, i know. she’s getting tired, we’re going to have to get the candles out early. cirons already sleepy too, he worked really hard today. i’m so proud of him.” you beamed as coriolanus took a sip from his glass, “oh did he?” he sneered. you were about to reply but the cake being carried out took your attention. “look sweetie! it’s your cake!” caroline lifted her head from your shoulder as you pointed at it.

“come on corio.” he downed his drink before following along. maybe if he was nice you’d fuck him tonight.

the four of you were a picture perfect family, cameras shuttered as everyone sang for caroline. she rested on your side as ciron stood in front of coriolanus, his hands resting on his sons shoulders. a smile plastered on his face. “happy birthday to you!” you bent down with caroline to blow the candles out as everyone cheered.

for once, you felt happy.

you sat infront of caroline’s crib, rocking it side to side. it was around 12 now, the party packed up, ciron in bed sleeping soundly, and coriolanus in his study. it’d been a while since you and coriolanus had been together. your pregnancy with caroline was risky according to doctors and you were told to take it easy. it’d been at least two months since his last time with you, and god he needed release.

once you figured she was asleep you made your way to corios study. “corio? you busy?” you peaked your head through the door to find corio writing away. “come in.” you closed the door behind you as he rolled back in his seat, patting his lap as you plopped down.

“you want something?” you rested your head in the crook of neck, roses infiltrating your senses. “m’ tired, wanna sleep with you.” coriolanus was taken aback for once, in his eyes you’d deprived him of your presence for so long and here you were wanting for him. coriolanus would have to settle for now. he caressed your cheek, “alright, come on.” his arm lifted your legs and you interlaced your fingers behind his neck.

over your time with coriolanus you’d learned to like things about him, since there was no point in you hating him anymore. his voice in the night, whispering to you. his soft hands washing your hair. when he was relaxed, the two of you would bask in eachothers presence, reading silently. baths together, his hands raking through your hair, trailing over your body with care. and as the two of you slept together, in a tight embrace, coriolanus felt at ease.

his brown jewel, all to himself.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: While shooting a movie with the infamous Wanda Maximoff, you start to fall for her. The lines between reality and acting blur together as you enter into a publicity stunt relationship, and you try to save your heart from breaking.

content warnings: angst, fake relationship, but a happy ending! Also TW for religious trauma, specifically homophobia within the Mormon church.

word count: 6.8k+

masterlist

Original Request

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Reality

The first time you lay eyes on Wanda Maximoff, you knew your life would never be the same. Her green eyes pierced through the chaotic atmosphere of the audition room, a group of people you assumed were her team surrounding her as she walked into the larger room off to the side, where the actual auditions were being held. 

You watched her go until her silky auburn hair faded from view, the door shutting firmly behind her, and sucked in a large breath. It felt like the air was simultaneously lighter without her heady presence, and thicker at her absence. You made up your mind then and there to try your very best at this audition. 

Deep down, you knew that the privilege of knowing Wanda Maximoff would be the insurmountable victory of your life, and you steeled yourself. 

“Damn,” Someone said, and you frowned as the room erupted in nervous laughter. Looking around, some people seemed starstruck, while others looked absolutely terrified. You understood why, nobody had told you that one of the most famous actresses in the country would be showing up at the final round of auditions today, but you could understand the reasons behind their secrecy. 

Mentally running over the lines you knew you’d forget the second you were in the presence of the most exquisite woman you’d ever seen, you manually slowed your heartbeat, breathing in slowly while you calmed your nerves. 

You couldn’t fuck this up. 

Someone called your name, and you stood, the movement feeling almost robotic. Blinking a few times, and shaking off the stubborn nerves that raced through your already sleep-deprived body, you smiled slightly at the people around you. They all offered small, encouraging smiles, but you could see the hunger behind their eyes. The need to succeed, to be better than everyone else in the room. The need to win. 

Shivering again, you reminded yourself that although it was a competition, it didn’t matter if you didn’t get the role. As long as you tried your best, that was enough. Then you remembered the woman waiting on the other side of the door, and a fierce wave of something rushed through you. 

Walking into the room, you kept your back straight, hoping to at least act like you were confident. That crumbled the moment you locked eyes with Wanda, the green of her irises imprinting themselves into your mind as you formed an awkward smile. 

“Alright,” A mousy-looking man clapped his hands, the illustrious eyes that had sought yours now focused solely on him. You never wanted to kill a man as desperately as you did now. Instead, you turned your head, shaking the cobwebs of gay panic from your mind as you forced yourself to focus. 

“We’re going to start with page twelve, scene two. A seat has been provided,” The man gestured towards the front of the room, and you glanced over. A single booth, about six feet long, was sitting innocently in a spotlight. It reminded you of your childhood, images of hot sticky Sundays clawing their way to the surface as you swallowed harshly. 

Missing the glance Wanda sent your way, her brows furrowing slightly at the distant look in your eyes, you jerkily made your way toward the seat. 

The words of a forgotten Sunday worship wormed their way towards your ears, murmuring things like ‘sinner’, ‘abomination’, and ‘unworthy’. The words suffocated you, visions of a church meeting hall flashing before you as you sat down on the familiar seat. 

Your fingers grazed the fabric, and you realized that they must have acquired an actual seat from some random Mormon church, and you fought the bile that rose. 

“I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself,” A soft voice filtered through your thoughts, clearing your mind instantly. 

Looking up, your face flushing, you could only stare silently as Wanda sat beside you. Embarrassment welled up, knowing that the woman had probably witnessed you get lost in the past, but she gave no indication that she’d seen anything, holding out her hand. 

“I’m Wanda,” She said, a genuine smile brightening her face. Her eyes searched yours, seemingly imploring you to take her hand, and you did. 

You were happy that you didn’t stutter as you gave her your name, surprised when Wanda repeated it back to you, the syllables forming into something beautiful when she spoke. 

“Be honest,” She leaned in, eyes sparkling with your hand still firmly grasped in hers. “How nervous are you?”

The faint scent of vanilla encircled you, a haze threatening to pull your focus away, but you remained steadfast. Not wanting to miss a single moment you had with the captivating enigma that was Wanda Maximoff. 

“I accidentally bought myself two coffees this morning,” You confided, smiling slightly at Wanda’s confused expression. “I had forgotten I’d ordered the first one, so I waited in line again to order my latte, only to realize halfway through the second cup that I’d been so anxious I practically blacked out while ordering the first time around.” 

Whatever reaction you’d been expecting, the tinkling laughter that erupted from the woman seated mere inches beside you was better than anything you could’ve imagined. Her eyes crinkled, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, and you fought to urge to lower it, wanting to see her full face while she was in the throes of happiness. 

“Alright ladies,” A voice rang out, shocking you out of the comfortable lull you’d found yourself in. “Are we ready to begin?”

The mousy man was now seated at a long table, three people seated on either side of him, their eyes locked on you and Wanda. You swallowed harshly, suddenly remembering that this was an audition, and you reluctantly removed your hand from Wanda’s. 

Glancing over, Wanda nodded, her eyes still locked on yours. They were warm, as if to say, ‘Don’t rush, take your time,’ and you smiled. 

You could totally do this.

—

“When did you know?” Wanda’s voice is frail, and you bite your lip. 

“Know what?”

“That you’re…” She trailed off, her eyes distant, a lost look in them. They met yours, green eyes pleading with you to say the words she couldn’t.

“That I’m gay?” You make sure to make your tone extra sarcastic, sending a quick smile her way, and nudging your shoulder gently against hers. You leave it there, finding comfort in the warmth that shoots through your body at the minimal contact. 

She lets out a breath of air, inhaling shakily as she quickly glances away from you. “Yes… that.”

“It’s not a dirty word, you know,” You say, tilting your head slightly, hoping to catch her eye. She refuses, fingers picking at the seat between you as her eyes remain locked somewhere in the distance. 

Fighting the urge to sigh, you let your own eyes glaze over, a faraway look appearing in them as you breathe in deeply. It’s a weary sound, and you close your eyes briefly as you exhale, preparing your answer. 

“I think I’ve always known,” You begin, resting a hand on the seat, your pinky centimeters from hers. Green eyes lock onto it, her breaths shortening further, her silence stretching on. 

“The first time I realized that I was…” You search for the word, shaking your head slightly, “Different,” The word tastes like ash in your mouth, and you can’t help the slight wobble in your voice. 

Clearing your throat, you continue, “I was in second grade, and for some reason, I really wanted the approval of my new teacher,” You glance awkwardly over towards Wanda, smirking, “I’ve always liked older women.”

Wanda’s fingers inch closer to yours, the tension palpable. You look away, needing to get the next words out, but knowing you wouldn’t be able to if you were staring into those all-knowing green eyes of hers. 

“I went home that night, and I prayed,” The words get stuck in your throat, and you realize with rising horror that actual tears are making their way into your eyes. You push onwards, Wanda’s hand inching closer to yours. 

“I prayed that I would wake up the next morning and be able to like boys the same way that I liked girls. I prayed and asked God why he would do this to me, why he would make me like this if he hated it so much.” Your voice breaks, a tear escaping down your cheek. “And it didn’t work.”

At those words, the dam finally breaks, and your shoulders heave with silent sobs as Wanda’s hand finally encircles your own. You can feel her other hand hesitantly rising, moving towards your shoulder before stopping, unsure if she should touch you or not. 

Eventually, after a pathetic-sounding sniffle escapes you, her other hand wraps around your shoulders, bringing you in. You bury your head into her shoulder, fingers gripping tightly onto the back of her shirt as the lines between acting and reality blur together into one giant, jumbled mess. 

“And, scene!” A voice calls out, and you force the tears back, manually slowing your breathing to gain some semblance of control over yourself. You tell yourself that you’re imagining the hesitant way that Wanda pulls away from you and blink in surprise when her hand remains on your back, gently rubbing soothing circles as you breathe deeply. 

“That was…” The man can’t seem to get the words out, his eyes shining. “Phenomenal.” 

His voice is breathy, filled with awe, and you can’t help the surprised look that takes over your face. Really, all it took was a minor mental breakdown and your acting was phenomenal? You should try that more often. 

The rest of the members at the table seem to agree, and the mousy-looking man makes his way toward you and Wanda, a wide smile on his face. 

“Congratulations!” He all but exclaims, and you feel disconnected from your body as he continues, “You’re hired!”

The man goes on to explain that Wanda will be playing the other main character, the Bishop’s wife, while you play the lead role in the movie. You know the character well, you’ve played her both in real life and now in auditions, but you can’t quite believe the words that are spewing rapidly from the man’s mouth. 

You play a 19-year-old girl, living with her elderly Grandmother after her parents had kicked her out for coming out as a lesbian. Your character only attends church with her resolutely Mormon Grandmother because she is scared to lose the only person in her life who will still give her a home. The man explains that your character falls in love with the new Bishop’s young wife, having just moved from Utah to your state, as Wanda’s character navigates her new realization of her sexuality while also falling in love with your character. 

It’s a beautiful story, one you’d read over and over again before deciding to audition. The themes of religious trauma, grief, and romance all swirled into one complicated story, but one detail, in particular, stood out in your disconnected brain. 

Fuck. 

Wanda’s character is the romantic interest of your character. 

What are you supposed to do now?

—

The director, a brunette woman with a seemingly permanent calming aura, had instructed you and Wanda to get to know each other better during the two months before shooting. She’d said something about how actors who were friends in real life had better chemistry on screen, but you’d blacked out after the word ‘chemistry’ had fallen from her lips. 

Wanda had laughed, seeing the slight flush appear on your face, her hands gentle as she guided you towards her car, “Seeing as we’ll be getting to know each other pretty well for the next few months, why don’t we start with a tour of my home?”

She’d persuaded you further with the promise of a home-cooked meal, and you simply couldn’t refuse. You were a recent college graduate, living in a shitty studio apartment you could barely afford, surviving off of the bare essentials. A tour of an actual house with an actual meal sounded like a pretty sweet deal to you. 

Plus, Wanda would be there, so everything would be perfect. 

The next two months were wonderful, the text messages between you two were constant and the weekends reserved solely for getting to know each other better. You quickly learned that Wanda absolutely loved cooking, but she adored gardening. 

The two of you had started doing puzzles together, one particularly colorful one catching your eye as you went shopping with Wanda, and she’d insisted on buying it for you. So, it became a tradition. Every Saturday, excluding the ones when Wanda had prior plans seeing as she was a famous actress with events to attend, the two of you would share a bottle or two of wine and assemble a puzzle while conversation flowed like water between you. 

The only thing you dreaded during these two months was Sundays. The director had asked you two to attend a Mormon church, stating it as research for the upcoming movie. You didn’t have the heart to explain why the mere thought of stepping foot inside a church again sent uncomfortable, conflicting tendrils of grief and self-loathing crawling up your spine, so you simply agreed. 

Wanda knew. She somehow always knew when something was wrong. She’d helped you pick out an outfit, a modest dress with comfortable shoes, and in return, you’d helped her find a dress in her massive closet that actually fit the impossible Mormon standards. 

You were silent during the car ride to the church, your eyes locked on the landscape moving quickly outside your window. Wanda didn’t have to ask if you were alright, she saw the distant look in your eyes and knew that you were trapped in memories, unable to escape. 

A soft hand enveloped yours, fingers tight around your hands as you felt vanilla pierce the heavy weight of the scenes playing behind your eyes. Your brain cleared briefly, overwhelming gratitude welling up inside you at the gentle show of support, and your fingers squeezed back. 

After that, you felt more present. Even when you walked through the doors, a false smile glued to your lips as you led the way towards a seat covered in that same scratchy fabric from the audition room, you didn’t sink beneath the waves of past memories threatening to drown you. 

The fabric didn’t seem quite as scratchy now with Wanda beside you, her pinky mere inches from yours. You remembered the audition room, the memory overlapping with the past ones that strained to reach the surface of your thoughts. The new memory suffocated the old, your breaths coming easier while Wanda’s steady presence overcame your senses. 

Someone began speaking at the podium, your body jolting as you realized it was a prayer. Wanda’s eyes were sharp, taking in everything, assessing everything. You showed her how to fold her arms, bowing your head slightly. The last thing you wanted was to stand out. 

If you stood out from the rest, you would never be fully accepted. You couldn’t go through that again. 

Wanda seemed to see the desperation in your eyes and copied your movements. Her green eyes didn’t close, watching you as your eyes stared blankly at the booth in front of you. 

“Dear Heavenly Father, we thank thee…” You couldn’t hear the rest of the prayer, the familiar phrase ringing around your head until the cacophony of noise threatened to overwhelm you. 

A pinky touched yours, Wanda’s body resting fully against you as you sat side-by-side in a little booth. The man was still speaking, your ears numb to his words, your senses locked into only one person. 

Wanda. 

Her finger wrapped around yours, an awkward version of a pinky promise, an act so juvenile yet innocent and pure. This memory overlapped with your past, multiple prayers you’d heard about ‘giving strength to those who stray’, and ‘loving everyone no matter what their sins may be’, being smothered by the simple touch of a pinky. 

You longed for more. 

The rest of the meeting passed quickly, your hands interlocked in the seat between you, hidden beneath the folds of your skirts. You were numb to the words spoken at the podium, having learned to block them out a long time ago. You let yourself remember, an unexplainable grief rising within you as you remembered what it felt like to truly believe in something, before the same people you’d once felt seemingly unconditional love from, turned on you with knowing eyes and quiet whispers. 

All because you liked a girl. 

Silent tears fell, your sniffles quiet from years of practice. Wanda’s fingers tightened, her eyes warm but not overwhelming. You let the memories wash over you, reliving them and then releasing them, letting comforting waves of vanilla envelop and smother them like a warm blanket. You finally smiled, right near the end of the meeting, your eyes no longer dull.

Wanda held your hand the entire time. 

—

The rest of the cast was amazing, friendly faces surrounded you, and laughter never ending as you mingled before the first table read. There was an assortment of finger sandwiches on a table near the back of the room, and you didn’t stray far from it. 

It’s not that you were hiding, per se, but rather surveying the room while you tried to control a slight panic rising within you. Yeah, scratch that, you were totally hiding. 

“Hey,” Your eyes raise from the sandwich you’d been inspecting, meeting a familiar shade of green. You can’t help the comfortable smile that erupts on your face as Wanda makes her way over to you. 

“Not a fan of mingling, I take it?”

“I just,” You gesture helplessly, noticing the lingering looks from some of the cast, probably wondering why Wanda was standing near you. “I don’t know anyone. And I feel really awkward.”

Wanda’s fingers interlock with yours, pulling your reluctant frame away from the table. “Well,” She reasons, walking towards a group of people, “Let’s introduce you then.”

—

You’re quite proud of yourself, having not stuttered over a single line of yours during the first table read. You could tell that some of your castmates were surprised that you were playing the lead character, as you weren’t a well-known name in the industry. 

The cast was stacked with A-list actors, Wanda being one of them. In all honesty, you were terrified, but Wanda’s chair was next to yours, and her pinky never strayed far from your own, so it wasn’t all that bad. 

Positioning her body until it was slightly facing yours, Wanda leaned in after the director announced a short break, the rest of the cast standing up to mingle, their voices chattering about the script. 

“You did exceptionally well.” The words were whispered in your ear, meant for you and you alone. Something warm burned in your chest, and you smiled proudly as you tilted your face toward Wanda. 

Your breath caught, her lips inches from yours. She didn’t make any moves to lean back, and you fought the urge to count her freckles as her soft breaths hit your face. 

“A glowing review,” You managed, a smirk making its way onto your face at Wanda’s smile. “I’m flattered.”

Wanda laughed, finally leaning back as she did so, and you let out a sharp exhale. One of her hands gripped your forearm as she chuckled, one hand covering her mouth as she did so. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” You said, blinking at the suddenness of your words. 

Wanda tilted her head, brows furrowing slightly. She doesn’t have to speak, her silent question stretching out in the silence between you two. 

“I just mean, you cover your face when you laugh,” You gesture towards her, ducking your head as your mouth keeps talking. “You shouldn’t, you’re beautiful when you laugh.”

The statement feels awkward coming from your lips, the compliment suddenly sounding too flirty, too personal, just too much. But then, Wanda’s smiling again, her eyes sparkling as she practically beams at you, and your words don’t feel unnatural anymore. 

“Well, I…” She doesn’t continue, her eyes searching yours as her eyes continue to sparkle at you.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Wanda Maximoff was rendered speechless,” The joke spills out, the silence threatening to turn uncomfortable as you stare at each other. You place a hand over your heart mockingly, “I’m truly honored to witness this momentous occasion.” 

Wanda laughs, and this time her hands stay away from her face, your eyes eagerly taking in her expression. You were right, she is beautiful when she laughs. 

“Alright, sweet talker,” She stands, still smiling widely at you as she pulls you from your seat. “Let's go mingle with our new friends.”

You socialize, words falling easily from your lips as you get to know the rest of your cast. Plenty of people congratulate you on landing the role, some offering encouraging words and others offering tips. You enjoy it all, auburn hair and sparkling eyes never leaving your sight for too long. 

It’s not as awkward as before, not with Wanda by your side.

—

“Your agents are geniuses,” Angela, the woman playing your on-screen grandmother jokes, relaxing against the booth. Your fingers play with the scratchy fabric, standing behind the seat with Wanda leaning next to you. 

You’ve been shooting the movie for a few weeks now, and this is one of the longer days. You’re shooting on the set of a reconstructed Mormon church, and you have to admit that the set designers did their research. The main hall is eerily similar to the one you remember growing up in. 

There’s a multitude of extras milling about, the day long and exhausting for everyone, since the scenes you're shooting take place in a packed church meeting. You’ve finally gotten a break, and Wanda has come over to talk with you, as she usually did. 

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, and Angela laughs. It's a throaty sound, and your lips turn up of their own accord as she braces herself against the seat. 

Someone shouts about the lighting, and you’re momentarily distracted while Angela wipes her eyes slightly. She waves off the young makeup artist, dabbing at the concealer beneath her eyes. 

The extras give you and Wanda a wide berth, and you’re unsure if they were instructed to do so, or if they were just intimidated by the lead actresses of the movie. Either way, you’re grateful for the space. 

“Don’t worry,” Angela says, leaning in and drawing your attention back to her. “You don’t have to play dumb with me, everyone knows that you two are dating as a publicity stunt.”

You and Wanda glance at each other briefly, shock evident on both your faces as Angela continues, “It’s a genius idea, truly. It's great for promoting the movie, and it gets people wondering if your on-screen chemistry is as good as your real-life chemistry.”

Real-life chemistry? What the fuck? 

Wanda must be thinking the same thing, because her eyes are slightly wide as she stares at you. Then, they change slightly, a calculating look in them as a multitude of makeup artists swoop in, surrounding the two of you as they prepare you for the upcoming scene. 

You catch Angela’s eye, and she pretends to zip her lips shut. Offering a wobbly smile, you walk almost robotically towards the front of the room as the director calls for places, your mind racing. Wanda brushes past you, her hand grazing your waist as she moves to sit behind the podium, where you’ll be standing for the next scene. 

Taking a deep breath, you push all thoughts of Wanda and fake relationships and chemistry out of your mind. There will be plenty of time to panic later, now, you have to focus on the next scene and try not to mess up badly. 

It’s utter chaos when they have to reset a scene with as many people as there are in the room, and you really want this day to be over with. Besides, there’s a bottle of vodka and an evening of overthinking waiting for you. 

—

Your publicist, a woman named Annie, smiles encouragingly at you while you sit in shock. 

“I mean, just think about it,” Another woman speaks, and you turn your wide eyes towards her. “It’s the perfect opportunity to sell this movie to the public, and the two of you are already good friends.”

At that, Wanda glances over at you. 

You blink. It’s slightly unfair how regal she looks, sitting elegantly in her chair in this small, suffocating room. Your brain is already slightly frazzled from a long day of shooting, and you struggle to process the request of Wanda’s publicist. 

“Let me make sure I’m understanding correctly,” Wanda interjects, sensing that you’re off-kilter at the moment. Her voice soothes you, and you remind yourself to breathe as she continues, “You want us to pretend to be in a relationship, as a publicity stunt?”

Well, when she puts it that way, it doesn’t seem so difficult. But then again, you’d agree with anything Wanda says, so maybe you’re biased. 

“Exactly,” Annie says, Wanda’s publicist nodding. “This movie is already projected to hit the box office, and with this, there will be even more demographics watching. This pretend relationship will help build anticipation for the movie, especially since the whole internet ships you two already.”

Now that was a new piece of information, and by the look on Wanda’s face, she was also hearing this for the first time.

“Do they really,” Wanda’s voice is slightly faint, her posture slumping slightly as she leans back in her chair. She seems to process, her eyes unfocusing slightly, so you ask a question of your own.

“Which demographics are we talking about, exactly?”

Annie smiles, sharing a look with Wanda’s publicist. “The younger generation for sure, since you’re already starting to trend on popular social media apps, as well as the LBGTQ+ community. They’re always looking for a new queer couple to ship.”

You try not to bristle, wanting to remind Annie that you’re a part of that community, but before you can get the words out, Wanda interjects. 

“Can we think about it?” Her words are soft, and when you glance over towards her, the green of her eyes doesn’t lock on yours like usual. Instead, they’re focused on her publicist, with a slightly firm look in them.

The woman concedes, and Wanda stands quickly. Before you’re able to get to your own feet, feeling slightly shaky as you do so, she’s already out the door.

—

After a few days of awkwardness, which you absolutely hate, you and Wanda agree that the publicity stunt is a smart move. 

It’s awkward at first, especially since you’re overthinking every interaction you have with her. You shy away from her touch, suddenly questioning if she’s touching you for the publicity stunt or because she actually wants to. 

After a couple of days of this, you’re in your trailer, watching some stupid reality show to try and get your mind off of the uncomfortable day you’d had on set when three light knocks sound at your door. 

“I know you’re in there, I can hear the TV.” Wanda’s voice sounds through the door, and you curse. It’s not that you were avoiding her… that’s a lie. You were totally avoiding her, and your acting in scenes with her had taken a hit because of it. 

“Just let me in, we need to talk,” There’s a pause, then, “Please?”

You can’t say no to that.

Turning the TV off, you make your way to the door and open it to reveal a very tired-looking Wanda. Her auburn hair seems slightly duller than usual, the sparkle in her green eyes no longer there. 

“Um,” Wanda pushes past you, sitting on your couch as you shut the door behind her. “What did you want to talk about?”

The question feels awkward, and you know that you’re avoiding the proverbial elephant in the room. Wanda gives you a look, and you sigh. 

Sitting down on the couch next to her, you leave plenty of space between your body and hers, and you try not to think about the way her pinky twitches at the distance. 

“Why are you avoiding me?” Wanda asks, and you blink. You hadn’t expected her to be so straightforward, but it seemed that she had no more patience for hesitancy. 

“I’m just,” You trail off, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure where reality ends and this fake relationship begins. And I’m not sure about what’s real and what’s not.”

Wanda doesn’t say anything for a long while, but the silence doesn’t feel awkward anymore. Instead, it feels heavy and filled with a multitude of unspoken feelings that you wish you had the bravery to share.

“So this,” Wanda reaches out her hand slowly, as if not to spook you. It stops, halfway between your body and hers, resting innocently on your couch. Her pinky stretches out further, and you let your hand slide along the cushion until your pinkies interlock. 

You don’t imagine the relieved sigh that escapes Wanda’s lips.

“You’re not sure if this is real or not?” The question rings around your head, and you shake your head because no, you can’t tell.

“Let me tell you how I see it,” Wanda says, her voice soft. You look up, meeting those pretty green eyes for the first time all day. She smiles, and they crinkle at the edges. You’ve missed seeing that. 

“When we’re alone, or on set, everything is real,” Her voice is firm, laced with honesty. “When we’re in public, it’s still real, just dramatized for the camera. Does that make sense?”

You nod, the pieces finally clicking together in your brain. You don’t say anything, and you don’t have to. All you do is squeeze Wanda’s fingers tighter and move closer to her on the couch. 

Turning the TV back on, you rest against her, your head resting on her shoulder. When you glance up at her, the green in her eyes sparkles back at you. Something settles deep within you, and Wanda rests her cheek against the top of your head.

—

You stare blankly at the script in front of you. The pages flutter slightly as a gentle breeze sweeps through the actor’s tent. Sounds of chatter flow around you, but you remain unresponsive, the words on the page swimming off and distorting as you try not to panic. 

A sinking feeling makes its way into your chest, the reality of the scene you’re about to shoot finally setting in. 

You have to kiss Wanda Maximoff. 

Sure, it’s an on-screen kiss, it’s not like it means anything. Right?

But there’s a small part of you that longs for it to be real. Some stupid part of you that you try to get rid of that wishes it meant something to her. Because it sure as hell means something to you. 

But it won’t mean anything to her. It’s a fake kiss. One meant for the screen. You build your walls, surrounding your heart with impenetrable stone as a calm iciness envelops you. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

—

Her lips are inches from yours, and you can’t stop looking at them. They’re plump, and slightly glistening from a light coating of lip gloss. There’s a red undertone, and you find yourself yearning to discover what she tastes like. 

You hesitate. 

“Cut.” The director calls, and you blink, stepping away from Wanda. 

“Remember,” The director begins, and you focus all your attention on her, ignoring the concerned look Wanda is sending your way. “Your character wants this, she’s not hesitating. She’s been yearning for this for weeks now, and I need you to show that through the screen. I want to feel the tension, the desperation.”

She pins you with a look, a sort of knowing glint in her eye. “Understood?”

“Yep, got it.” You offer a smile, the fakeness of it making you cringe. Your makeup artists swoop in, touching up the smallest details possible, while you avoid eye contact with Wanda. 

“Hey,” Wanda’s voice is soft, and you glance at her. Her eyes are locked on yours, and you somehow can’t bring yourself to look away. She looks almost… sad.

“Are you alright?” 

You mentally scoff, your walls crumbling slightly as the green of her eyes threatens to overtake you. “Yeah.”

The clipped tone of your voice rebuilds your walls, the stone solidifying once again. You turn away, walking towards the beginning spot of this scene, not seeing the confusion that overtakes Wanda’s expression. 

A wave of sadness crashes through her, all the times that you’ve been pulling away from her running through her mind as she makes her way towards her own spot. She attempts to meet your eyes again, but you refuse. 

She knows that this scene won't be successfully shot today. 

“And, action.” 

You look up, your character snapping into place quickly, your eyes dark and full of longing. Wanda is startled by the sudden change but snaps into her own character quickly as you walk slowly toward her. 

“Don’t say things like that,” Your voice is low, your emotions swirling in the forefront of your mind. 

“Things like what?”

“Things that sound a lot like love confessions,” You hear your voice break and want to cringe. It fits perfectly for your character, but you’re unused to sounding so weak. 

“Why not?”

Your body is pressed against Wanda’s, her chest grazing yours with each shallow breath she takes. You almost believe that it’s real, just for a moment. You desperately wish it was. 

Wanda’s eyes search yours, and you’re reminded that she’s playing a character. A character that’s falling madly in love with you, unconcerned about the repercussions. A character that couldn’t be further from reality. 

You hesitate again, your body refusing to move your lips closer as your mind wars with itself. 

Wanda sighs, and the director calls out again. You barely hear what she’s saying, your body practically propelling itself away from Wanda, focusing on rebuilding its walls as her hand twitches toward you. 

“It’s alright, “ the director is saying, and you force yourself to focus on her. She’s smiling gently at you, her voice kind, “Everyone has off days, we’ll try again tomorrow. It's been a long week.”

Nodding jerkily at her, you wave off your team, choosing to return to your trailer instead of following them. You’ll deliver your costume later, or have someone come pick it up. But right now, you need to be alone. 

Walking quickly, you practically sigh in relief when you reach your trailer. You’re quick to unlock it, pressing the door open urgently and twisting slightly to close it. 

A hand stops you, delicate fingers wrapping around the door as you look up in shock. You hadn’t realized anyone was following you, but looking into those iridescent green eyes, you understand. 

Wanda says your name, her voice holding a pleading edge to it, and you can’t bring yourself to deny her. 

You open the door wider, silently giving her permission to enter. She brushes past you, fingers twitching but not touching you. She seems to want to touch you, and you try and push down the part of you that wants her to. 

“Why are you…” She hesitates, not knowing what to say. 

Raising your eyebrows, you resign yourself to having this conversation. You knew it was coming, but you find yourself inadequately prepared for it. Standing awkwardly in the middle of your small trailer, you simply stare at Wanda. 

“Why is it so difficult to kiss me?” Wanda’s eyes are sad, and you want to cry. You hadn’t meant to make her fucking sad, and now she looks like a kicked puppy.

The tears that spring into your eyes are unexpected, and you blink furiously as they begin to spill down your cheeks. Wanda steps towards you, but you evade her, opening the door and gesturing for her to leave. You refuse to cry in front of her, not when your heart is seconds away from tearing in two. 

“When I kiss you I want it to be real, I want it to mean something, Wanda.”

The door shuts firmly behind her, and you miss the understanding and longing that appears in her eyes. Wanda turns away, a single tear escaping her. 

Of course it would mean something to her. It would mean everything. 

—

It’s raining, and you want to cry and laugh at the same time. 

Wanda had left you a voicemail. You’d stared at your screen while watching her contact picture pop up as she called you. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to hear her voice, so you let it ring. 

What you hadn’t expected was the voicemail. 

“I just… fuck, I don’t know what I want to say but it would mean something to me. I promise. I- you. I hate this. I hate this distance, I hate that I can’t help you and I hate that I’m falling in love with you.”

The message had ended pretty quickly after that confession. You’d heard a few muttered curse words, and then a dial tone that rang in your ear long after you lowered the phone.

You didn’t know what to do, so you grabbed a rain jacket and started walking. Hoping it will clear your head. Your feet had other plans it seemed, as you found yourself walking up the driveway of Wanda’s home. 

It surprised you, as she lived at least fifteen minutes away by car. You barely remembered the walk there, having been trapped in your own mind as your body brought you towards the only thing you could think of. The person who had consumed your every waking thought, and invaded your dreams.

How fucking typical and cinematic it was, walking up her driveway in the pouring rain. You could see a few lights on, and you begin to prepare a speech. Something super lame and mushy about how much you like… fuck that. How much you love her. 

Fuck. You loved her. 

Of course you did. You’d gotten to know and love the woman behind the famous persona she’d created. The soft, caring woman who loved gardening and puzzles, who hummed along to songs as she cooked, and who looked at you with impossibly soft eyes. 

You knock, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest. 

Green eyes meet yours, and you recoil. They’re cold and dull, so unlike the usual sparkle that you’re used to, and you feel your walls build higher even as you plead with yourself to lower them. 

Turning, you feel your feet start to walk away, your mind replaying that dead look in her eyes. Your heart fortifies itself, trying not to break as you make your way down the driveway. Tears blur your vision, your ears ringing with embarrassment as you try to remember the way back to your trailer. 

“Wait, just… fuck. Wait.” A firm hand grips your forearm, and you spin in surprise. 

There’s fire behind those green eyes, and you stand still. Wanda’s auburn hair is drenched, rain pelting down on the two of you, running down her perfect face as she blinks at you. 

“I…” She can’t seem to get the words out, her eyes boring into yours. 

Time stands still, the tension thick as you allow yourself to glance at her lips. You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, threatening to escape. You let them. 

“I love you.”

Wanda speaks at the same time, her words slightly faster than yours. Green eyes widen in surprise, and you feel a wave of immense relief sweep through you. 

Rain continues to pour around you, but you barely notice. Within seconds, Wanda’s hands are cupping your face, your own grabbing desperately at her waist as your bodies draw together like magnets. Her lips find yours, and you feel something click into place as your lips slide together effortlessly. 

It feels like coming home after a long day, the months of pining and uncertainty coming to a head as you melt at the feel of her lips against yours. Your shoulders relax, tension seeping out of you as you chuckle. 

Pulling back, you stare at her, watching her eyes crinkle as she mirrors the wide smile on your face. She’s perfect, and you whisper one single thing before your lips find hers again, rain soaking the two of you as you embrace. 

“This is real, I promise.”

---

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Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta

[taiyeoki]

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘? | 𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐎

↳ Kashimo + Reader

Genre . Smut

Warning . 🔞Minors do not interact | Contains breeding/impregnation, face fucking, nipple play, fingering, cancelled orgasm

Synopsis . Kashimo doesn't always show vulnerable emotions but when a man comes around fancying you, his wife, that wall comes crashing down with the simplest jealousy. Now he just wants to fuck you till tomorrow. Maybe putting a baby in you will make sure you're his.

A/N . This was supposed to be finished way sooner but I got too caught up with some other work, causing me to sleep at 4-5am for weeks straight and it physically affected me so I got body ache and inflammation. Turns out I got covid. And then afterwards, which is currently, I'm focusing a lot on art lmao.

You had no plans today but to lay around on the couch all day long. Kashimo didn't mind since he's used to the woman staying at home during his time period anyway. The only difference now though is that you weren't even doing any chores. He never forced you to do them though, but seeing you sprawled out on the couch with a bag of chips next to you had him pushing you to get up.

Which is why you were here now, going into stores around the city. No way is Kashimo Hajime going to let his wife laze around all day. He cared about his wife's wellbeing and he knew the negative effects of being cooped up at home. However, this time he wasn't one bit pleased at all. He just regrets taking you out in the first place.

Your husband held a scowl on his face. He always looked fierce to begin with but this was different. You could feel his stare boring holes into the back of your head.

Going to the counter to order takeaways, the cashier held a rather innocent looking expression. The bright smile and friendly service wasn't fooling Kashimo though. He knew the cash register's true intentions weren't just to serve you.

"That'll be $15.70 ma'am," the man's smile widened in an attempt to be 'friendly'. It felt so disgustingly fake to your husband though. You replied with a polite "thank you," as you took your food, smiling in return but Kashimo saw how he purposely brushed his hand onto yours when serving you your order. He knew that you were too kind for your own good so it wasn't your fault for reciprocating the polite gesture but it pissed him off how anyone would try to fancy his wife.

Unfortunately for him, the cashier initiated a little conversation with you.

"I hope you enjoy your food. You've got great taste based on what you ordered. As expected from a woman such as yourself," his eyes darkened with intent staring at your frame, the smile he held wasn't going to fool Kashimo though.

"Do you come here often? I would love to help serve you again," his tongue darts out to lick his lips, almost as if he's moistening his lips to prolong more conversation.

"Oh, thank you. I guess I'm starting to become a usual customer here huh?" Chuckling, you replied noticing that you do come here more often than you think, appreciative of his kind offer.

"Great! That gives me even more reason to come to work," he laughs a bit at his joke but keeps his eyes on you. It was even more apparent now that he's leaning closer to you, close enough that he could take in your sweet scent which was supposed to be reserved for Kashimo only.

"Aren't you here to do your job? Or are you being paid to flirt with customers?" A smooth, velvety voice cuts in. Kashimo swiftly moves in front of you before you can pay for the food. He wasn't going to let this man touch you a second time, dropping the cash on the cashier's hands without even an inch of being near him so he wouldn't have to touch this 'thing'.

"T-thank you. You must be—"

"Her husband," Kashimo scoffed, a smug smile tugged on his lips handsomely. His agile movements snaked his arms around your waist, wrapping you right next to him to show who exactly you belong to.

Kashimo's presence only made the man look smaller than he was with your husband's dominating height towering over him. At least he wasn't dumb knowing how much more muscular your husband is compared to the guy working behind the counter trying to flirt with a married woman. His eyes zero in on Kashimo's strong hold on the small of your back and it was clear how possessive he got. You aren't bothered, leaning into Kashimo to envelope yourself in his comforting scent. The sight only made the man nervous with fear. He knew you were taken seeing from the beautiful blue ring that decorated your soft finger, both you and Kashimo having matching rings. Just by the looks of it he could tell how expensive it must've been and yet he still had the confidence to try and sway you— right in front of your husband too, who surely made more money than him with his part-time cashier job.

"Come on hun, let's go," Kashimo glances softly at you and his tone is gentle. Much different compared to this stranger who's just grateful that your husband decided to stay civil for the sake of his wife. He wears the look of horror when Kashimo turns around to face him once more.

"We'll be leaving now. I wouldn't expect a guy like you to be keeping their job for long if this is how you work."

Arriving home only meant that you had to deal with the little ordeal that happened, inquiring Kashimo about it. "What was that about? You didn't have to be rude you know."

Your beloved husband only scoffed when you reminded him of what happened. Seeing the sour expression on his face told you how annoyed he was, plus the deep scowl on his lips presented how pissed he was too. He pushes you against the kitchen counter, caging you between his strong arms as his lips latch onto your neck, kissing aggressively. You whine softly from how rough he's being, sucking on your supple skin creating hickeys everywhere while your fingers intertwine with his cyan locks. Your breaths are labored, he knows your body better than you do. He knows your sweet spots and your favourite positions, how you like it done and the perfect pace to do it.

Letting go, his saliva connects to your now bruised skin and he admires it.

"Pretty little mark. Should give you more don't you think?"

"Hajime, were you jealous?" You teased, giggling but your smirk is taken away when you feel his rough hand unclasp your bra, the other pulling your shirt up right above your breasts. Your sensitive skin exposed to the cold air causes your nipples to harden more than it needs to. Seeing this has blood rushing down to his cock as he flicks and tugs on your erect nipple, twisting it with the perfect pressure of his thumb and playing with your tits. Your head tips back with a moan, holding onto the kitchen counter for support while your husband ravages your body as he please.

Suddenly you feel his hot breath against your sensitive mounds. His lips wrap around your hardened nipple, sucking sensually producing lewd sounds from the wetness of your skin. His right hand continues to give attention to your left breast while he sucks on the other. You could feel Kashimo's calloused hand massaging your chest, the roughness of his thumb causing more friction against you as he twists and presses your nipple. God— his hands are too good. The man is skilled in pleasing you, he knows the perfect amount of pressure needed to have you over the edge.

Kashimo's free hand pushes your panties down, rubbing your already wet folds to get you prepped. He pushes a prodding finger against your walls, curling his finger just enough to hit the right spot. The sensation of his long finger abusing your sweet spot while his thumb circles your clit has you instinctively opening your legs further for more. Both his hands working you and his mouth sucking and lapping on your erect mounds already has you feeling like you're about to explode.

Your thighs shook in excitement as Kashimo's fingers slid inside of your already drenched cunt, and you moaned loudly, fingers scraping on the table under you with how your body is attacked by all this pleasure. Kashimo could feel your walls tighten around his digits. He knew whenever you needed to cum but as cruel as he is, Kashimo removes himself from your pussy, walls aching to release the familiar buildup in your abdomen.

You whined from the loss of sensation, feeling empty without him. "Hajime, why'd you st—"

He cuts you off, putting his pussy drenched finger inside of your mouth. "Lick it clean," His smooth, husky voice demanded. You couldn't deny how that turned you on more, sucking and lapping on your own juices off of his finger, making erotic sounds from it.

"There you go, see? Not so hard being a good little slut now right?"

He was enjoying the sight of your pretty lips wrapping his fingers, tasting yourself from it. Now his head was full of perverted thoughts on how you would look if you had your lips wrap his dick instead. If he had you sucking and choking on his fat cock.

Kashimo removes his finger from your mouth, too impatient to have you gagging on his dick. He kept his cyan eyes down on you while he licked his own fingers clean and it made you feel small and honestly inferior, submissive to him.

"Kneel down."

He had a mix of dominance and lust, greed hinted at the edge of his voice. You did as he said, kneeling down for your knees to take the weight while your face is in front of his crotch. Kashimo cupped his hand around the growing tent of his pants, rubbing it as his veins throbbed from the blood rushing south to his erection. "Go on. You know what to do," Kashimo had a smug smirk decorating his lips, eyeing down on you in front of him.

You gulped knowing what he wanted, the thought of his dick springing out of its restraints has you dripping wetter than before. Your hands pulled down on his pants slowly, earning a grunt from him at how you were taking your time in this. "Shit hun, stop teasing already," he grabbed a fistful of your hair and you moaned softly from how good it felt, forcing you to do as he say, rushing you more. Kashimo's left with his boxers on but you wanted to prolong your teasing. The tip of your tongue lapped at his clothed bulge leaving a damp spot, receiving labored breaths of sigh from him.

You continued your ministrations, licking his clothed shaft with the tip of your tongue like a needy slut until you yelped when he gently yanked on your hair, "what'd I say about teasing huh?" Your little fun of taking control was instantly stripped away when he forced you to stop. Pulling down the last of his restraints, his thick cock sprung out, tip leaking with precum.

Scrambling on your knees obediently, humiliation washed over you with your husband still gently grasping your hair. Kashimo's fingertip taps on his cock, smearing the pre-cum around the tip and then on your face.

"Pretty face would look better with my cock fucking into your mouth yeah?" He muses, moist tip rubbing up against your soft lips wanting to enter and just violate your face. You're practically drooling, tongue sticking out and he places his shaft flat onto it. You drag your tongue underneath him in a long and slow pace earning a low moan.

Your husband smoothly slides in his cock deep into your mouth, unprepared by his size even though you've already been married for years. You gagged a bit before adjusting to his length, drooling a bit onto his shaft and gripping on his thigh. His cock pushes through your lips, hitting the back of your throat while you try to breathe through your nose.

"Y'know you pissed me off. Just wanted to make me jealous huh?"

You couldn't respond. Cock deep in your mouth, you could only muffle in denial. It was true though, you didn't mean to make him jealous. What started off with you teasing him about it turned into him face fucking you. His smoothly styled cyan hair falls out of place, bangs sticking onto his face from the sweat forming on his forehead and his buns turning messy.

"Shouldn't my wife apologize? Use your big girl words and say you're sorry," the room resonates with his groans, his girth making it hard to breathe as you try and say sorry.

"Mmph- soh-wee—"

It was all you could say after all with a meaty cock in your mouth, nose brushing against his hair as he keeps you in place with the firm grip he has on your locks. A sadistic smirk curled onto Kashimo's lips as he watches, beginning to quicken up the pace. You hate and love how determined Kashimo is, once he sets his goal on something he'll do whatever it takes to achieve it. At this moment though, he's determined to have his wife deepthroating him.

The friction of each thrust has his dick tattooed in a darker red, grunting at the wet cave that's going to send him to heaven. His movements get sloppier and grow desperate, balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

"Ah— fuck!" With a final thrust he spurts all his cum down your throat, pushing you right against him to keep you in place as his little cumdump and making sure to leave none behind. "Swallow," he demands, hot seed slides down your throat as you try and swallow while his dick is still in your mouth.

With a huff, Kashimo lets go of your abused throat to let you breathe. Gasping for air, your hand rubs your sore neck but you could see how his dick still stays standing despite how satisfied he was with jizzing in his wife's mouth.

Looking up at him, your husband's lips held the seductive smirk, palming on his wet, still-hard cock in front of you. Standing on his full height, he grabs your waist and pulls you up, laying your belly side on the kitchen counter behind you.

"You want this? Your pussy's drooling for my cock but you're not speaking clearly enough. I'm gonna need my little slut to speak. We can't have my wife suffering now can we?"

"Please.." you pleaded, his firm hand spanks your ass receiving a whine.

"Cute."

Kashimo slides inside with ease from how wet you were from your cancelled orgasm, cock stretching out your plush walls as your thighs shook in excitement. Moaning against your sleeve, you start fucking yourself on his dick. Kashimo doesn't hesitate in helping you, picking up the pace and fucking hard into your drenched cunt. You could feel every inch of his dick, pussy memorizing every pretty vein on him, how it feels like you two were made just for each other while his tip easily abuses your sensitive spot.

Your body glistens with sweat, shoulders littered with hickeys with Kashimo leaving bite marks on you, his teeth biting on your skin just hard enough to draw out pleasure without hurting you. You moaned as his fingers rubbed your clit in circles

Kashimo gets the perfect view of where your bodies are connected, every thrust from your squelching cunt creating a white ring of both your arousals. Your trembling legs were proof of how much you were enjoying it, toes curling and fingers gripping the smooth surface of the table with a muffled squeal.

"Fuck- gonna cum inside, gonna make you pregnant,"

He claws against your waist, the euphoria of him filling you up while your hardened nipples rubbed against the counter from each thrust's friction. Your mouth hung open but no noises escaped your pretty swollen lips. Kashimo loved the idea that his cock was making you feel so good that your brain couldn't even react to it all the while his tip kisses your womb with every push, hitting you in your fucked-out state.

"Can't even speak now? Wanna be a mommy huh? You like that idea?"

You tried reaching back to grab his arm, whimpering to signal that you were about to cum with the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen. Your husband leans down to give you kisses though they were more possessive than caring, giving sloppy french kisses with more tongue than lips. The sweat forming at your skin caused you to slide against the counter with every thrust, trying to grab on to anything for support.

The thought of your belly round with a baby and your fuller breasts being sensitive was enough for Kashimo to cum.

Teeth sinking into your neck to muffle his groans, his hot cum spilled inside of you making sure to paint every inch of your walls white. Spurts of his load fills your belly and he stays there cockwarming until it softens, pulling out.

Your husband's digits went down to spread your lower lips, watching how his cum oozed out of you. He curls his fingers to scoop up his orgasm and pushes it back into you, making sure his beloved wife is full of his hot seed.

"Hajime—"

"Sorry hun, I got too rough didn't I? I was just jealous but I'll make it up to you. I just love you so much," he plants a tender kiss on your back, massaging your sore hips.

Giggling at how he peppers soft kisses all over you, you reassure him. "It's okay, I had fun."

Chuckling, Kashimo nuzzles into your neck, still rubbing your sore flesh and promising to give you a full body massage.

"But hey, you'll make me such a happy daddy."

[samkerrworshipper]

simce u asked for blurbs i have some ideas xxxx

leah x reader where reader gets her tongue or belly button pierced without telling leah

leah x reader where leah gets jealous of reader for having to do a media day vid with a touchy male player

awfc x reader where reader and kyra are just pranksters (cuz i loved sticker charts sm 🥹🥹🥹)

DONT FEEL PRESSURE TO DO THESE BTW! but if this helps then perfect 🥰🥰🥰

tongue twister | lw6 x reader blurb

it’s short, it’s sweet, it’s the only thing getting me out of my writers block lol

warnings: minor sexual implications and maybe some minor swearing

———————————————————————

It’s fairly normal routine for Leah to beeline straight towards you after any trip that includes her leaving for longer than 24 hours. Hell, the girl always seeks you out even after she’s gotten home after a two gotten home after a two hour training session but she’s always especially clingy after being on international camp.

It’s worsened significantly since her return from her acl injury, considering that for months she hardly had to leave your side.

So it’s no surprise that before Leah even takes her shoes off she’s rushing into your kitchen, her luggage bag long forgotten at the front door as she tumbled through the entrance hallway and into the kitchen.

You were seated at the island bench, typing away lazily at a work document to pass time.

Your eyes perked up as soon as the blonde entered the room, a big smile settling along your features at the sight of your rugged up Leah. It still gave you the chills that the woman standing in front of you, leah williamson, was all yours. She told you every single day that she was the lucky one in the relationship, but you couldn’t have disagreed more, leah was perfect, in every single way.

“Hiya love.”

Leah stays standing in the doorway, her eyes trained to you, a big smile splashed across her face.

“Hello Le.”

The woman closed the distance between the two of you, her tongue between her teeth as she approached.

“Missed you.”

It’s a statement, not meant for you to reply just a hanging reminder that these weeks that you spend apart are just as hard for you as it is her.

So you nod, flash her another smile before letting your eyes fall back to the bright screen in front of you.

Leah sits down on the seat beside you, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Honey.”

Her voice is slightly whiny, the voice Leah uses when she wants something that apparently should be obvious but you aren’t giving it to her for whatever reason.

“Yes, Leah?”

You look up from your screen briefly, taking in Leah’s needy face, her lips puckered directly towards you.

“Where’s my welcome home kiss?”

It was customary that whenever Leah came home you gave her a kiss, but this particular time you were a little bit tentative… for other reasons.

“Someone’s a bit needy.”

Leah reached over and pressed your laptop closed, removing the potential distraction.

“I always get a welcome home kiss… I’m waiting.”

You roll your eyes, it’s typical for Leah’s first priority to be a fucking kiss, it’s something that you’ve come to love, no matter what’s happening in either of your lives when she gets home, you always connect like this together.

“How was my day? Thanks for asking, it was great, went for a run, cooked up some food for you to meal plan this week, watched some shows, got a jumpstart on the gym plans for the team this week and hammered out a roster.”

Leah’s gives you a massive eye roll, her hand extending to the back of your neck, looking deep into your soul as her face hovers a couple of centimetres away from you.

“Baby, you know i love you, give me a kiss, please.”

It wasn’t like Leah to be so needy, you blamed it on the fact that you’d been ‘sick’ in her absence, which had her feeling especially guilty for leaving you.

“Why don’t you give me one?”

The challenge is enough to strike up Leah’s competitive nature, something you frequently take advantage of in all parts of your relationship.

Leah leant forward without any hesitation, her lips capturing yours and immediately melting against your skin. This was the part you were anxious about, but regardless you let her take dominance of the kiss, her bottom lip molding against your top one as she slowly synchronised the movement.

It didn’t take very long at all for Leah to get greedy, her tongue finding the notch between your bottom lip and top, gently prodding for an opening, something you awarded her with ease.

Leah tasted like peppermint gum and black coffee, a flavour that melted in your mouth. You were counting down the seconds, as Leah explored your mouth, curious as to how long it would take for her to notice.

4 seconds, 4 seconds of her tongue reaquanting itself with the roof of your mouth and then twisting and tangling itself with your own to discover what you knew she was bound to.

It felt like she was digging for treasure that you’d hidden.

The gasp that she breathed into you almost immediately was capturing a short little exhale of hot air directly into your mouth. Leah prodded at it twice more, checking, making sure before she disconnected herself from you, her eyebrows perched high on her forehead as she blinked a few times in surprise.

“Open your mouth.”

If you were in a more playful mood you probably would have said some kind of obscene joke, but you simply weren’t in the mood to mess around with Leah, especially with that glint in her eyes that was telling you so much and yet so little about how she was feeling.

So without much arguement at all, you opened your mind up wide, allowing Leah to examine her previously discovered treasure.

Leah took her time having a look, even daring to tilt your head back to get a better angle on your new bling.

Once she was finally done she let go of your chin, releasing you and taking a step back, so you could look at her fully.

“I’m assuming it wasn’t tonsillitis that you had then?”

You chuckled lightly, it was a good cover up if you did say so yourself, something completely believable and so simple.

“Do you not like it?”

Leah’s eyes almost bursted out of her skull, her head shaking profusely at you.

“God baby, no, I am so ready for you to show me all the ways that little thing can do, maybe i’ll get me nips done next time for some more fun.”

Leah gave you a flashy wink, a movement that had her rewarded with a big eye roll from you.

“She’s fully healed, how about we go test it out?”

Leah smirked massively, reaching for your hips and lifting you up in to her arms.

“I like your thinking.”

[allywthsr]

FOLLOW THE WHITE RABBIT | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and you talk about the cheating rumors, you find out the truth and you solve things between each other. Part two to Reckless

wordcount: 5.4k words

pairing: landonorris x singer!femreader

warnings: panic attack, crying (let me know if I missed anything)

notes: the love part one got, made my heart throb. Thank you!!!! I hope you like whatever I wrote there, also the first time I used text messages and tweets, tell me what you think about them!! I used follow the white rabbit by Madison Beer for this part! I deleted some lyrics, hope you don’t mind.

You were not ready for Lando to come home. Not ready at all.

You didn’t know who you should believe, him or the pictures that were posted all over the internet. Of course you wanted to believe him, you‘ve been in a relationship with him for over five years now, he never gave you a reason to doubt him. But the picture literally had proof on them, showing him in the act of kissing this woman. And we‘re not talking a smooch we’re talking full on make out session in the middle of the club. His excuse better be good or you would leave, and if he started to blame the alcohol you would be fuming. Alcohol is not an excuse to kiss other people, even when you‘re drunk you need to think of your significant other.

Normally Lando wasn’t even planing to come home, the plan was that he flew straight to Belgium for the next race weekend and you would join him there, but now you weren’t sure if you wanted to go and see him race, even if things cleared between you two. But you weren’t sure if they would, even when there was an explanation for it, he still kissed this girl and met up with her multiple times in Monaco. And there‘s no denying it, there were pictures that clearly showed him with her.

You wanted things fixed with him, you loved him with your whole heart, he was your person. What are you gonna do if things didn’t work out? Move back to your home country? Stay in Monaco? Move somewhere you‘ve never lived before? You had absolutely no clue.

The wait felt like days, you walked around your apartment, cleaning here and there, trying to calm your nerves. You settled in the living room waiting for Lando to arrive. After three and a half hours you finally heard the door unlock, now your heartbeat fastened, you had the feeling that your heart was going to jump out of your chest, and you thought that you were going to faint. Too scared that things won’t work out and you‘ve spent the last five and a half years with Lando for nothing. You wanted to marry him, you wanted to have children with him, you wanted to build your forever home, you wanted to get a dog, and you couldn’t imagine all these things with someone else. You did not think you could ever love someone as much as you loved him.

”Y/N?“, you froze. Nope, you wanted to leave, this was too much for you. You couldn’t talk with him, look him in the eye or be in his presence.

You didn’t answer him, you wanted to but when you tried to speak, nothing came out.

”Y/N, are you there?“, he asked again. Tears started to form in your eyes, you were fucking scared. And before anything else happened you started to feel a panic attack coming, something you‘ve been familiar with but especially in the last hours had constantly. You started shaking and crying silently, breathing way too fast and not being able to help yourself getting out of it, you curled into a little ball, hugging your knees while putting your head on them while you rocked back and forth.

So when you heard footsteps nearing, you panicked even more. By now you were shaking uncontrollably and your sobs got louder and louder, you felt like fainting with the little air you only got. Lightheaded you looked up and saw Lando standing in the middle of the living room.

”Y/N what the fuck, are you okay?“, you just shook your head and before you could take another breath he was next to you on the couch, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tight. The tears were just falling down your face and Lando thought about calling an ambulance. He had experienced you having a panic attack quite often, he even had some himself when he first got to formula one and the pressure became too much but he‘d never seen an attack being that bad. He just hoped his presence would calm you down, as it normally would but after the articles, he wasn’t that sure anymore.

”Hey Y/N, breathe Baby, you need to breathe. Do it like me“, he started to slowly breathe in with his nose loudly and held it in for a few seconds and then blew the air out of his mouth. You really did try to breathe like him, but your sobs interrupted you before you could breathe in. He held you tighter in hopes that he could stop your shaking but it only got worse.

”Is it better if I not touch you? I don’t want that you get worse only because I hug you“, but you just clawed your hands in his arm that was wrapped around your front and shook your head slightly.

”No? You want me to hug you?“, you squeezed his arm tighter and started to lean in his body a little.

”Okay, Baby you need to breathe or I need to call a doctor, this is not healthy and I can’t get you out of this headspace. You‘ll be fine, listen okay? Breath like me.“

You slowly took a breath in and before you could hold it, you let out a sob and another.

”I can’t breathe “, you pressed out of your lungs while trying to get some air.

”I know baby, but you need to come back to me, it‘ll all be fine. We are fine, okay? I love you so much but you need to come back to me love“, you tried so hard to breath normal but the panic attack was stronger and the sobs spilled out of your mouth again.

”I feel like I’m going to faint Lando.“

Now he started to panic, he really has never seen it that bad before, he needed to call a doctor, he couldn’t help you alone.

Then Lando got an idea, he wanted to use a technique you showed him and he never got the chance to try it out but now was the perfect timing.

”Baby I know, let’s do the senses thing you showed me okay?“, you just nodded while shaking.

” What are five things you can see?“

You lift your head from your knees and looked around.

”Y-You, the tab-table“, you took a shaky breath.

”It’s okay baby, take your time and breath.“

”The couch, the plan-plant, the lamp.“

”Good job angel, breath. Now what are four things you can touch?“

”Y-Y-You“, you were interrupted by a sob, ”The couch, my phone, the table.“

”Yes baby, now take a deep breath“, you looked into his eyes and repeated the breathing he did.

”Good, three things you can hear?“

You looked back through the room, focusing on what you can hear at the moment, allowing your brain to calm down.

”Your voice, the neighbors drilling something in the wall and my phone pinging with messages.“

”Exactly“, he pressed a kiss on the side of your head, ”two things you can smell?“

”You and the room perfume I sprayed this morning.“

”Good job love“, he noticed how you were much calmer than he started, barely letting out a sob and only a little shaky.

”And what is one thing you can taste?“

You chuckled, ”You.“

He let out a quiet laugh, ”Yes baby. Breathe okay? Do it with me.“

You turned your face back to his face and after he took a deep breath through his nose, you repeated after him.

”Hold it.“

You nodded and together you hold the air for about five seconds, and after that, you both let the air out through the mouth. He repeated that three more times and after that, you were back to your old self.

”Welcome back love, do you need anything? Water or do you want to lie down? Sleep for an hour?“

You shook your head and answered him with a: ”I need you.“ He whispered an ’Okay‘ and placed his head on yours, enjoying the embrace you guys were still in. After what felt like hours of sitting there, it was probably only ten minutes, he slowly let go of you, and you whined when he did that.

”I‘m gonna get some water and then we can talk, yeah?“

You nodded and let out a breath, too scared to fall back into a panic attack, you weren’t ready for what was coming.

When he came back with two glasses of water and placed them on the little coffee table and sat on the couch across from you, he began.

”So it looks bad, but it’s not like everyone says it happened. Yes, I kissed her, well, she kissed me. But only for two seconds and maybe it looks like a full make out but I swear it was only for like three seconds. She pulled my head down and wrapped my hands around her waist and before I could react she kissed me, but I immediately pushed her away. My brain needed a second to register what was happening because I was in such a shaken state, and that’s where they took a picture.“

”But you hung out with her in Monaco, and she was in Hungary when you were racing.“

”Yes I-“, he didn’t know what to say, it wasn’t like he was searching for an excuse but more like the right words, ”I met up with her because she‘s actually the sister of a friend, and he asked me to pick her up because he couldn’t and didn’t want her to walk. I‘ve met her a few times at his‘ and yeah that’s basically it.“

”You literally went with her on a walk after I asked you to go with me to the docks for some fresh air!“, you argued, now getting frustrated.

”Yes and I have no excuse for that. I did go for a walk with her, but I don’t know what to tell you. She wanted us to be friends and friends hang out, so she asked me to meet her at the city.“

”So you ditched me, your girlfriend, for some chick and did not tell me about it? You could literally have asked me to go with you and we could‘ve met up with her.“

”I know and it’s stupid, but I guess I was overwhelmed with the race weekend coming up and so I didn’t thi-“

”No! You do not get to blame this on your job. This is you being a bitch.“

He chuckled, ”I was, but believe me, I never had any intention to do anything with her.“

”But she did!“

”Well, I know that now.“

”And what about my release party? This album is literally about you and you didn’t come? Do you even have an idea how embarrassed I was? Your family was there and they didn’t catch a glimpse of you the whole time they were in Monaco. I stood there all alone talking about how happy you made me and when people asked me about you, I had to tell them you were at the MTC. Everyone thought you were the biggest jerk for leaving when I had an important day. I travel around the world for you, I move meetings, and recording sessions just so I can join you for a race. I asked you to come for one day, one fucking day and you didn’t show. I even put the release date like that, so it wouldn’t be on a race week, so you could attend and my ass wouldn’t be alone. But I was alone, in this room full of people I love, I was alone because you weren’t there. I came home early and you weren’t even home and when I checked your location you were somewhere in Monaco. You could‘ve texted, you could‘ve called, yet - nothing. I thought you had some huge thing planned as a surprise for me but you didn’t even apologize. You just came home late and didn’t even think about me. I cried in our bed and you came in, changed your clothes and fell asleep immediately. Just the next day you said ’Oh I‘m sorry I didn’t come‘ and went on with your day? I literally cried on my release day, but not happy tears, that’s just fucking sad dude. This might not be a big deal to you, but releasing an album isn’t something you do every weekend.“, you started to pick at your sweatpants trying to distract your tears from falling down your cheeks. All the emotions came back from that day.

”I‘m so sorry I made you feel that way. I wanted to come I promise, I even bought that huge bouquet of your favorite flowers but then she called me and“, you let out a scoff, of course she called him, ”told me she her car broke down in the middle of nowhere and I was the only one she could reach. I had to help her and it took way longer than I expected, the tow truck took two hours to find our location, so when we finished and I drove her home because her car was in some repair shop, she invited me into her flat and we just had a soda relaxing from all the stress and I forgot to go to the party. I just remembered when I found the flowers in the trunk of my car the next morning, but they were all dead because they didn’t get any water all night long. This is not an excuse, I just want you to know what happened. And nothing will change the fact that I missed one of the most important nights of this year, but I am truly sorry. If I could go back and do it differently, I would immediately but I can’t. And I have no clue how to make it up to you, I could buy you another handbag or whatever but nothing could make it better. I still feel like an idiot, if that helps?“

”Not really, I am still super mad at you, you have no idea.“

”And you have every right to be. But I am really so fucking sorry, I never wanted to make you feel this way.“

”But how did she end up in Hungary?“

”I invited her“, your head turned to his at a speed of light, ”What?!“, you screamed at him.

”This girl is literally flirting with you, trying to get you away from me every second of the day and you invite her to your race? No wonder she kissed you. She must’ve thought this was you telling her it’s something serious.“

”What? Y/N, no, you’re delusional.“

”Lando, I know how girls work, especially the bad ones. You might be my first relationship but my friends have told me about them.“

”But that’s not why I wanted her to come. She asked me if she could ever come to a race because she’s never been. And we had a spare ticket because you didn’t come so I asked her.“

”That’s bullshit, she obviously wanted something from you and you didn’t see it.“

”Well, I‘m sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you. I messed up and I‘m a horrible boyfriend but I can’t change things now. I just know that I never wanted anything from her, I invited her because I thought she was a friend and I helped her with her car because she was a friend. If I had known her intention, I would’ve never even picked her up in the first place.“

”You‘re not a horrible boyfriend. But over the last three weeks, you weren’t a good one either. I felt so alone in this country I never wanted to move to in the first place. Yes, it’s beautiful and all but doesn’t feel like home, I miss my friends so badly, but they‘re all in the UK. And I don’t want to blame you for this because this decision was made by both of us but you told me, you would never leave me alone for long. Because I have barely anyone here. Yes, the girlfriends of your friends but I can live without them as well. I almost booked a flight two weeks ago to go home, because if I’m alone here I can go home alone. This city will never be my forever home, I hope you didn’t forget this.“

”I am sorry Y/N. And of course, I didn’t forget about you not being a hundred percent happy with Monaco, if you want we can start looking at lots to build on in England. Building a house is not something you do in a week, so if you want we start looking for them. I will not leave you alone from now on, I promise.“

”But how are we gonna come back from this?“

”What do you mean?“

”Lando, I can’t just go back to what it was like before it all started. I love you so much, but you also hurt me. And I’m still fucking sad over the things you did, even if you didn’t cheat.“

”I love you too, but you believe me, right? I never wanted anything from her, trust me.“

”I guess, the wounds are still fresh, so I need you to give me time. I need time to heal and get over it.“

”Of course Baby, take all the time you need. I just don’t want us to break up over someone stupid. She‘s not worth any of your tears. She‘s just this stupid bitch, and I know that now.“

”I don’t want us to break up over this as well but I need the time and I will fly home as soon as I can. I don’t want to go to Spa with you, I need time apart to calm down. That doesn’t mean I want a break or anything just some time for myself.“

”Are you sure that’s something you want?“

”No, I need this. I am not happy here and I don’t want to be in the paddock right now, I need some family and friends time and especially time for myself.“

He nodded and stood up. Now he was the one with the glossy eyes and pouting lip.

”Lando, why are you crying?“

You stood up and walked to hug him.

”I am just so sorry Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you and now you need time away from me. Which is fine but I am so fucking sorry“, he let out a quiet sob and the first tear spilled out of his left eye. You hugged him even tighter and now his arms slang around your body to return the hug. His head found its way to your neck and let it rest there, crying quietly. You let him cry everything out and even spilled some tears of your own. This was not a breakup, but you needed time apart. You knew how Lando was, he would do everything to express how sorry he was. Getting you gifts, flowers and whatnot just to suppress his feelings. But you didn’t want that, you wanted him to understand why you were sad and needed to go home, and by buying you gifts he wouldn’t understand.

After holding him in your arms for good five minutes he started to talk again: ”Did you write a song already?“, he slowly lifted his head from your shoulder and looked with his red eyes into yours. You chuckled, ”Yes I did, it’s called Reckless, but I don’t know if I‘ll release it, I mean you didn’t cheat in the end.“

”You should, to show the world what kind of asshole I am.“

”Baby, you’re not an asshole, I love you so much. Never see yourself as anything bad, you just hurt me, yes, but we hurt people all the damn time. But we solved it, just because I need to go home for a week or two doesn’t mean I hate you. You just need to realize what you did wrong and heal yourself. I don’t want you to think bad of yourself, you did some questionable things, but it’s not like you actually cheated. Okay? You‘re my person, my love, my baby and nothing can separate me from you.“

He just nodded. He needed some time for himself, you both knew that you both needed time to come back even stronger. So you went and packed all the things you needed for a week at home and booked a ticket for the next flight.

”When are you coming back home from Spa?“, you asked Lando, you wanted to book a flight to Monaco already, so you had no choice but to come back home to Lando.

”On Monday evening, then we planned to go on vacation on Wednesday, but I don’t know if you still want to come?“

”Of course, I‘ll come with you on our yearly family holiday, are you mad? Spending weeks on a yacht with only sunshine and you and your family is like a dream. I miss my Mila and I need my Mila cuddles. I‘ll fly back home to Monaco on Tuesday morning so I‘ll be back by Lunch time and we have enough time to pack.“

You looked at him, the way he sat on the bed, looking like he‘d lost the fight of his life, his arms were crossed before his chest, his legs were moving the whole time, too nervous to actually settle and his head was leaned against the headboard of the bed.

”Hey Lando, calm down, it’s only a week, you need to fly to Spa tomorrow anyway. Concentrate on your race, I‘ll be watching and supporting you from home“, you sat next to his leg and patted it.

”We‘re okay Lando. I forgive you, don’t worry. I just need a few days for myself and after I come back, we‘ll be just like before everything happened. So get your shit together and smile for me.“

He gave you a big smile, satisfied with it, you gave him a quick peck on his lips and stood up to gather the rest of your things. When you packed the rest of your toiletries in your bag, closing it with the zipper you let out a sigh and asked yourself if you really wanted to do this. You looked in the mirror and you knew the answer if you looked at yourself. You had bags under your eyes, they didn’t sparkle like they used to and your skin wasn’t rosy anymore. These three weeks took a toll on your whole being, you didn’t smile as much, and you for sure didn’t feel any happiness. But you were sure that after the week away from Monaco, you and Lando would come back stronger and everything would be okay again.

So when you stood with your luggage at the front door, Lando leaned to the wall next to it. You guys didn’t talk and just enjoyed the silence, both lost in your thoughts. When your phone got a notification, your Uber arrived and was ready to pick you up and take you to the airport. You wanted to now do it on your own and almost argued with Lando because you didn’t want him to take you. The week away starts now and he needed to accept that. He did something wrong, even if it wasn’t really his fault but he still met up with her and she was able to kiss him.

”I should go, my Uber is here.“

Lando just nodded and his head sunk, the first tear escaping his eye.

”Baby, please don’t cry. I‘ll see you in a week, you need to focus on your race, I don’t want you crashing just because I‘m home. You can text and call me whenever, it’s not like I‘m dead, I might not react immediately, because I want to do a little phone detox and maybe record some songs but if there’s an emergency, you have my parents' numbers and my siblings. My best friends as well, just focus and get another podium yeah? I‘ll be cheering you on from home.“

”I‘m sorry Y/N. I need you.“

”You have me, always. But just give me a week, let me calm down, and then we‘ll be back to our old selves. We will get over this and we‘ll be fine.“

He nodded and looked at you, his red watery eyes made you feel guilty, but now you needed to think about yourself. So you grabbed the handle of your luggage, put your free hand on his cheek, pressed your lips to his for a kiss, and stepped through the door.

”I love you, Lando, keep me updated.“

”I love you too Y/N. Please be careful.“

”Always.“

So when he closed the door behind you, one tear fell down your cheek but you wanted this and now it’s too late to go back. Your Uber drove you to the airport and you grabbed a mask, sunglasses and pulled your hood up, hoping that no one will notice you or at least recognize you. You loved meeting Lando’s fans but you just wanted to listen to your music while you waited for your flight to board. But luck wasn’t on your side today, while you waited for your flight to board, you saw multiple photographers taking pictures of you and you pulled your hood more into your face hoping they wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your face. You still cried a lot earlier and you did not look like your best self right now.

After your plane finally boarded and left the airport, you took a deep breath. Ready to relax at home with your family.

f1gossip

22,827 likes

Y/N was seen in the Airport! We don’t know where she is going but she clearly does not wanna be recognized. People that waited in line with her said, that she cried the whole time while waiting. Is our favorite couple now actually over? We have no confirmation, but we‘ll update you, when we know something

two days later

/////////////////////////////

You smiled when you left the plane, you had missed Lando terribly over the last week. That showed you how you guys were meant to be.

Your new song ’Reckless’ was a banger, everybody loved it, little did they know you already wrote a new one.

Lando told you, that he would wait for you in the entrance hall and drive you back home.

So when you got your luggage and went to the entrance hall you searched for the familiar face. But you just spotted a huge bouquet of flowers and behind them, was his beautiful grinning face. So you run the last meters to him and embracing him in a tight hug, hearing the sounds of cameras clicking, you didn’t care, you needed to feel him close to you. So when you broke the hug and looked into each other's eyes, you kissed. Just a quick one, you didn’t want to have a make-out session on the internet.

”I am so happy to be back“, you whispered in his ear.

”You have no idea how much I missed you. Let’s go home, I wanna show how much I missed you.“

f1gossip

25.729 likes

Lando and Y/N at the airport! Y/N arrived back in town a week after leaving, Lando waited with a huge bouquet for her and they shared this bone crashing hug after seeing the other. So is our otp back again? We hope that they‘re happy!

y/nusername added to their story!

Boy, I heard my name's on the tip of your tongue

You knew how badly Lando wanted to call you every day when you were in your home country. He texted you every morning that he wished you were next to him. Reporters tried not to ask Lando about the rumors but it was almost impossible. He just wanted to scream in everybody’s face that you guys were good and didn’t break up.

And I'm empty too, if that is what you want

But the truth is, you weren’t better. Your mum wanted you to leave asap, the crying of how much you missed him became unbearable for your family.

And I looked into your eyes and you're the one

When you FaceTimed and saw him, you knew he was the one. He was your love, your person, your everything.

That I wanted, baby, that I wanted, baby, that I wanted

You wanted him so bad, no, you needed him. You needed him because without him you couldn’t really function.

It's a haunting, baby, that I'm wanting

Baby, that I'm wanting, wanting you

Haunting, baby, that I'm wanting, baby, that I'm wanting

It scared you how much you wanted him. You sat late at night on your childhood bed and thought about the first time you brought Lando here. Everybody loved him and accepted him into the family. You needed him and it was scary.

And I lose my mind tonight over you

Thinking back to the time, you started fuming. How the press played such a big role in the whole thing, they made you believe things that weren’t even true.

Devil in a dress, I'ma love you like I do

You still loved him, even when all the ugly articles and rumors started to come up, you still loved him.

Follow the white rabbit to see the truth

You talked with Lando and he showed you what really happened. With all the stupid rumors, you believed him. The articles were a way to distract you, to show you the wrong way, to believe the wrong people but in the end, you saw the truth.

And my patience is now setting like the sun

When Lando arrived back on Monday, you had a panic attack but you were also impatient. Wanting to hear what he had to say, what really happened, whether it would be good or not.

When my tears fall on your lap, we've just begun

You don’t remember the attack you had, but Lando later told you how you cried in his arms while he tried to calm you down. It was the beginning of the conversation, what a great start. Not.

And by now, I know the damage has been done

The time will never be able to be reversed. Nothing can and will ever repair the scars you got from this. He still hung out with a girl while you sat lonely in your shared flat. It happened and you can’t do anything to undo it.

That I wanted, baby, that I wanted, baby, that I wanted

It's a haunting, baby, that I'm wanting

Baby, that I'm wanting, wanting you

Haunting, baby, that I'm wanting, baby, that I'm wanting

Lando told you, that he was scared of how much he missed and wanted you to come home. You laughed about it, feeling the exact same. It was scary how your minds were connected and felt the same as the other one was feeling.

Follow the white rabbit to see the truth

You were glad how things worked out. That showed you how strong your relationship is, that even after this scandal, you still found your way back to each other. It also showed you how important talking with each other was. Talking is key and you are glad you are in a relationship where you talk about things.

———————————————————————————

taglist: @mrsmaybank13

[beskarandblasters]

Pillow Queen

No Outbreak!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Author’s note: So this fic is inspired by a little story. I sent my boyfriend @psychedelic-ink’s fic, My Girl Now, and the twitter porn clip that inspired it. And he responded with, “i'm just surprised a pillow queen like you wants to bounce on my cock like that” 😐 So @wannab-urs told me I should write a Joel fic based on this scenario where the reader proves him wrong, so enjoy 😍😇

Summary: You watch a porn video while Joel is sleeping beside you. He wakes up while you’re watching it. You tell him you want to try that position and he calls you a pillow queen. You prove him wrong.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak, porn with little plot lol, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl), 69/oral sex (M and F receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, half assed editing (I’m sorry😭), no use of y/n

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

Joel drifts off to sleep beside you in no time, the exhaustion of the long day of construction hitting him all at once. You, on the other hand, cannot fall asleep. There’s a particular reason for that, which is… you’re incredibly horny; horny for Joel who’s out cold next to you. He came home and told you all about the exhausting day he had. He was practically dragging his feet when he came home, forcing himself to stay awake. After dinner, he took a shower and basically went straight to bed- poor guy. So you would feel guilty for waking him up. But what are you supposed to do? It doesn’t help that he’s sleeping naked literally inches away from you…

You grab your phone from the nightstand and open Twitter, scrolling for some videos, and yes the guilt is brewing in your stomach but maybe you can quell your urges right now. You find a video of a man and a woman. He’s sitting on the bed and the woman is sitting on his cock, facing the camera and bouncing up and down. Fuck, you wanna do that with Joel. It’s a position you’ve never tried before. You click on it and your volume is all the way up because of course it is. You gasp and try to close the app hastily before Joel wakes up. But it’s too late.

“Sweetheart?” he says sleepily, turning on the lamp on his nightstand and rolling over to you.

“Hmm?” you respond, not acknowledging what just happened.

“What was that I heard?” he asks, rubbing his eyes. The sleepiness in his voice is wearing off and you can tell under the dim light that he’s wearing a shit eating grin.

After letting out a sigh you say, “A video I found?”

“What kind of video?” he asks, the eagerness in his voice growing.

“I’ll just show you,” you say, hanging your phone to him.

He blinks a few times to get adjusted to the bright screen and watches the video, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open.

“I thought we could try that,” you say sheepishly.

“I see,” he says, handing the phone back to you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I'm just surprised a pillow queen like you wants to bounce on my cock like that,” he chuckles.

“Excuse me?? Pillow queen?!” you gasp.

“What?!” he laughs, “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

“I don’t wanna be a pillow queen,” you pout.

“I mean it endearingly, sweetheart.”

“Let me prove you wrong.”

“Huh?”

“Let me prove you wrong,” you repeat, inching closer to him and pressing your lips to his neck.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath.

You pull down the comforter and move to straddle Joel, except you’re facing his cock, getting into a sixty nine position. You take his cock in your hands just as he goes to eat you out, sending shivers down your spine. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before taking all of him in your mouth. Meanwhile, Joel’s licking your clit and fucking your cunt with his nose. One of your hands cups Joel’s balls and the other wraps around the base of his cock. His hands grips your thighs, fingertips sinking into the soft flesh as he pleasures you but also gets pleasured himself. His balls tense up in your hand and you know he’s about to cum soon. You pull yourself off of him much to his dismay but his disappointment doesn’t last long. You move to the edge of the bed and motion for him to come towards you. He sits at the edge of the bed and you stand with your back facing towards him before sitting on his lap and sinking down on his cock.

“God damn,” he says, marveling at you and the way you took his cock in one clean stroke.

The praise doesn’t stop there because as soon as you start bouncing up and down he just about loses his mind. His hands grip your waist as you fuck yourself on his cock. With every movement you make your walls stretch and take every inch of him, expanding to take the newfound length and girth inside you.

“Good fucking girl,” he praises, wrapping his arm around you and nipping the lobe of your ear.

“Oh yeah?” you ask playfully.

“Mhm,” he responds, “Bouncing up and down on my cock like a fucking angel.”

This position is so hot but you also wish you could see his face and get the full satisfaction of proving him wrong.

“I-I wanna change positions,” you say.

“Pillow Queen got tired out?” he teases.

“No way!” you say, getting off of him, “Move back farther and lay down.”

He does as he’s told and scooches back, laying down on the bed. You move to straddle him, facing him this time, and sink down onto his cock once again. This time you get to watch his face; watch his mouth fall open as you begin to ride him.

“Fuck, didn’t realize you had this in you, pretty girl,” he says, hands gravitating towards your breasts. You smirk at him as his hands caress the curve of the soft mounds before moving to your nipples, taking them in between his fingertips.

You move your hips back and forth on his cock, grinding against him. Your hands rest on his chest as you fuck yourself on his cock, this position providing much more visual stimulation than the last. The look on Joel’s face is one of pure ecstasy as he watches his pretty girl ride him.

Your walls tense up in anticipation of release. Joel can feel it, too; the way your walls clench his cock.

“Cum on my cock like a good girl,” he says.

And with one last grind of your hips you do, your cunt fluttering around him erratically. The sensation of your cunt gripping him pulls his own orgasm from him. His cum paints your insides in thick ropes until the movement of your hips eventually slows down. And now you’re exhausted.

You move off of him and collapse down on the bed. Joel pulls you into him and kisses the top of your head.

“Pretty impressive for a “pillow queen” if I do say so myself,” you tease.

“Most definitely, sweetheart,” he says, “I’ll stop callin’ you that if it hurts your feelings.”

“I know you’re only teasing, especially since I just proved you otherwise,” you chuckle.

“Like a good girl.”

“Plus you had a long day so it felt good to take care of you for once.”

“You’re the best, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of your head one last time before you both drift off to sleep, entangled in each other’s arms.

End note: ✨here’s the text that inspired all of this✨

Also we aren’t mad at David, he was just kidding and clearly I thought it was funny if I decided to write a fic about it 😭

Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!

[majusialikesfastcars]

SHAMELESS

Carlos Sainz x Norris!reader

Summary: you knew that you shouldn't fall for your brother's best friend, but there's no going back.

⚠️Tw: smut

!English is not my first language, so please bare with me🙏🙏!

(carlos' version)⁵⁵

Series masterlist

🥀

🥀

"So many mornings I woke up confused,

In my dreams, I do anything I want to you,

My emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind,

Right now I'm shameless,

Screamin' my lungs out for ya"

🥀

Love is a complex emotion. People aren't able to control the feeling of utter devotion for another person. It is also not possible to choose your beloved, the person you are going to give every part of your soul, mind and heart. The heart that wants what it wants.

You always tried to stay away from your brother's friends cycle. They were simply too much for you. Not your cup of tea.

That was until you met Carlos.

Lando as oblivious as he is, never noticed the heart eyes you were sending to the spanish driver. But Carlos? Oh, he knew straight away, sending you his famous smirk. Your heart suddenly started beating faster, when he walked up to you, his cologne mesmerizing you even more. He introduced himself, took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, leaving invisible marks that were about to stay with you forever. Then simply walked away to talk to your brother, leaving you in a mess of feelings, that shouldn't even appear, but in the same time it felt wrong for them to vanish.

Carlos Sainz was like a forbidden fruit, but you wouldn't be yourself if you at least didn't get a taste of it, even if it meant being condemned to your personal hell.

🥀

The two years, that Carlos spend in McLaren consisted of needy glances and tension, you were so adamant to break. But you never acted out on your feelings and Carlos didn't seem devastated by that, so you let it be. Then he signed contract with Ferrari. And that was it. You didn't see him much after that and eventually you focused on your own life, old feelings long forgotten.

Until today.

Carlos was sitting on the couch, probably drinking some expensive drink, while club music played from the speakers, giving people the opportunity to show off their dance moves. He was watching you, the beautiful and confident woman, who had never left his thoughts since their first meeting. The black, tight-fitting dress hugged your body, showing off all your curves. The makeup enhanced your already breathtaking beauty. He wasn't surprised at all, that so many people were following you with dreamy eyes. He himself couldn't stop staring at you. You were a fucking perfection for him.

You were dancing with some guy, who was practically undressing you just by looking at you, and his hands were wandering too much for his liking. He scoffed, clearly unsatisfied. Everyone could see how much he wanted to be in his place and he really thanked God, that Lando wasn't anywhere nearby, because even he would have noticed the way he was looking at you, his best friend's sister. Jealousy was burning his body. But he did nothing for one and only reason. You were looking directly in his eyes, effectively grounding his body in a place he was. It was as if you were giving him a taste of what he could have on a daily basis. You were playing with him, and he wasn't going to leave it like that.

After a while, when one of the many popular songs stopped playing, the man wanted to keep you by his side, moving his hands to your hips. The glass from which the Spaniard was drinking his alcohol almost broke at the sight. He should be the one in his place. You brought your lips up, but when the guy was about to kiss you, you smiled lazily, whispered something into the man's ear and moved away to a safe distance. Leaving the horny guy in a stupor, you moved towards Carlos.

You stopped between his legs, looking at him with the same look that always made him want to bend you across the table, completely forgetting about Lando. This time was no different.

"Why are you sitting here alone?" Those were the first words that came out of your mouth. Your voice was like a beautiful melody to his ears. "Shouldn't you have a circle of girls around you?"

"I don't think it would satisfy me in any way."

"Have habits changed?" you asked, running your nails down his neck.

"Oh, maybe I worded it wrong. It wouldn't satisfy me because none of them are you."

You giggled at his words, plopping down on the couch next to him. Carlos almost choked on his saliva when he felt a gentle touch on his lower abdomen, just above the zipper of his pants. You slightly turned his head towards you, getting even closer.

"Oh, yeah?" you smirked, watching his reactions to your touch. "What happened to 'I would't do it to Lando'?"

"He isn't here, is he?" Carlos asked, placing his palm on your exposed thigh.

You licked your lips, enjoying the way his raspy voice and big hand made you feel. He chuckled when you closed your eyes, letting him move his hand higher, almost touching the end of your dress. Oh, how he wanted to already get you out of it. You nearly moaned when you felt the feather touch of his digits on your laced panties. He didn't stop there. His fingers slowly, even painfully, made their way to your core. It was like he was punishing you for years of your teasing. And you loved it. The sound that escaped from your throat, when he pressed the tip of his finger on your clit, suddenly made you aware of the very public surroundings. But people didn't pay you attention, too invested in their own world. But Carlos noticed, how you observed if someone was watching. Of course he did. He pushed a finger inside you.

"Letting me touch you like that in public?" he chuckled, feeling how you clenched at his words. "Such a needy girl."

He pushed another finger in, moving them slowly and you swore you could feel your insides burning. It felt so good you wanted to cry, because you knew he wouldn't grant you release so soon. His name rolled off your tongue easily, followed by a moan. Your nails were leaving marks on his arm from how hard you squeezed it. Carlos loved it.

"Carlos, please, I —" you couldn't even form a sentence, the feeling of his fingers deep inside had you mumbling incoherent words.

"Tell me what you want, niña bonita."

That. Fucking. Bastard.

He was teasing you and you were well aware, that you would have to beg for it to end.

"Carlos —"

"Words."

"Please, faster" you managed to utter. "Please, Carlos, I beg you —"

Words stuck in your throat, when he started thrusting his fingers faster and harder. You couldn't stop moaning, when you felt your release coming closer. His other hand found a way to your throat, squeezing it gently and forcing you to look directly at him. His lips caught yours in a delicate kiss, that turned out into a messy make out session in seconds.

🥀

Your back hit the door of his hotel room, when you finally stumbled out of the elevator, still caught up in a hungry kiss. You completely messed up his hair from constant grabbing. His hands roamed on your body and it felt heavenly. He finally managed to get his keys and gently pushed you inside, not breaking the kiss for a moment. He wasted no time and you were left only in your laced panties in a couple of seconds. But he was still fully dressed and you didn't like it. So you got to work quickly. His button up shirt ended on the floor, missing a few buttons. He pushed you on the bed, getting on top of you immediately. His lips fell on your neck and you were certain that the marks wouldn't fade within few days. He took your breasts in his hands, brushing your nipples with his thumbs. But you wanted more. When you tried to move your hips against the visible bulge in his pants, he pinned you down, earning a needy whine from you.

"So eager for me to fuck you." he slapped your thigh, your legs opening instantly. "Pathetic."

You were soaking wet at his words. Your panties were quickly discarded and you could tell, that you wouldn't be able to use them anymore. He grabbed your thighs, spitting at your core.

"Let me get a taste of you first, hermosa."

His head dipped down between your legs, bringing sounds out of you, that you didn't know you were capable of making. His tongue worked wonders. He was eating you like a starved man. You couldn't count how many times you came until stopped. He looked at you, completely fucked out of your mind and you could almost see how lust appeared in his eyes again.

🥀

yourusername's instagram

landonorris stop ignoring me, I see you respond to others

yourusername miami I love you

liked by yourbffusername, carlossainz55 & others

Comments:

yourbffusername u sure u talking about miami?? 🤔

yourusername 🤫

landonorris y/n.

landonorris pick up the phone

landonorris stop ignoring me, i see you respond to others

carlossainz55 🤩

user1 are going to ignore lando's meltdown??

user2 lando omg 😭😭

user3 carlos hiding in the comments 🤔

🥀

Carlos Sainz is the winner of Australian Gran Prix.

Two weeks after his surgery, he won another race. He really knew how to make a comeback.

Tears of pride started gathering in your eyes, when he once again arrived at podium's highest step, soaking in glory. He looked ethereal, divine even. He was in his element and your heart grew at the scene playing above you. He was proving what he was capable of, glowing in Ferrari red in spite of Lewis not finishing the race. Maybe his replacement wasn't worth dropping him at all? He really belonged here. But despite all this, during the play of spanish national anthem, he still looked for you in a crowd of people cheering for him. Because your appreciation and support mattered to him more than the rest. And he found you. Standing there in the middle of Ferrari's mechanics, in his team merch with his name spread across your back and lovestruck expression on your face. You didn't care about the cameras catching your longing stare. You didn't even care about your brother facing the reality, that his best friend had fallen for his little sister. He was the only one in your mind.

When he finally walked away from the podium, soaking in champagne with the biggest smile adoring his face, your heart started to beat faster, exactly the same way, like when you saw him for the first time. He almost run to you, crashing you in a hug, unaware of Lando's stare shooting daggers at him.

🥀

Author's note: thank you for reading!!!

[chryblossomjjk]

the weekend | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | fwb, sm*t, angst

⇢ WC: 13.8k

⇢ WARNINGS: alright boyz strap in bc it's a doozy lmao, protected s*x, multiple org*sms (m & f), or*l s*x (m receiving), face f*ck, f*ngering, rough s*x, face slapping, sp*nking, exh*bitionism, sir k*nk, t*tty f*ck, t*tty sucking (duh), body piercings (n*pples), age gap (reader is 23 and jk is like 30), infid*lity (reader is the other woman), ch*king, overst*mulation, sp*tting, man handling, finger s*cking, d*m jk, brief mentions of past add*ction, implied passing of a bby (mainly subtext w no details given), maybe unrequited love, maybe not (EVIL CACKLE), some dark thoughts discussed (nothing too graphic or detailed), fighting n yelling n crying yikes, all of these characters are v flawed (except for yul duh), cute bby moments!!, oc is v immature n naive n contradicts herself a lot, she maybe has a thing for older guys bc of that, some bl*od (just a scrape on the knee but ik bl*od can be triggering), this relationship is extremely toxic and not meant to be desired!!!, one homage to trixie mattel lmao

⇢ SUMMARY: every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

⇢ NOTES: so after months and months of planning this fic (i literally posted the teaser in JANUARY UM??), it's finally here. i think this is my fav thing i've written thus far and i worked v hard on this! would love to know ur thoughts, feedback is always appreciated!! ty @/taegularities for betaing!! (for whatever reason, this fic refuses to show up in tags n it sucks n nothing i do fixes it so i shall leave it be lol)

You can't tell what’s louder—the crunch of dewy, end-of-summer grass pricking the soft skin of your thighs like angry thorns, or the cracking of bones as your body thumps to the ground from your bedroom window. 

“Ah-” the whine is quickly stifled by a sharp hiss as you remember your dad’s sleeping figure is just behind the wall next to you. “Ouch,” you whimper, praying that the crash hasn’t reached his watchful ears. Carefully, you climb to your feet, brushing the dirt off your bare legs. You spot a fresh crimson scrape on your knee.

Fucking great. 

Finally, after days of longing and waiting, the weekend has arrived. Today, in particular, is a fantastic day. You were trying to look sexy, and blood isn't exactly the sexiest accessory. Bringing your wrist up to your nose, you inhale the candy-scented liquid you had doused yourself in before leaving. 

Perfume still in check, thank fuck.

Goosebumps form on your skin as you take long, dutiful strides, cool night mist gliding through the thin material of your long silk shirt. You’ve committed this path to memory—out the window, usually in a more graceful manner, through the neighbor’s yard, and then straight down the sidewalk to the black Mercedes Benz waiting for you at the end of the road. 

If you hadn’t done this a million and one times already, you might’ve missed the vehicle, so dark that it blends into the night seamlessly. You can’t help but wonder if that’s his goal entirely. 

Still, the excitement of it all makes you walk a little faster. 

“Hey, Jungkook,” you smile as you slide into his black leather passenger seat, leaning over the center console to give his cheek a gentle peck. Maybe you’ve overstepped a boundary and muddied the lines in the sand of your… relationship, but you can’t help yourself. Seeing Jungkook was always a treat, one you looked forward to every Friday night for the past five months.

“Hi,” he says impassively, eyes darting over your figure. A loose strand of hair dangles in front of his eyes, teasing you. “You’re wearing makeup?”

“Oh, um…” You’re at a loss for words; surprised he noticed such a slight change in your appearance. Although his perceptiveness was something you noted shortly after you began working for him, you can’t help but feel flustered. “Yeah, I… wanted to look nice tonight. Totally busted my ass climbing out the window,” you laugh.

“Did you get hurt?” His straight brows furrow slightly, silver piercing reflecting the moonlight. 

“Just a scratch.” You lift your leg to show him the red mark on your knee. “Didn’t break anything, though, so that’s a plus.”

Wordlessly, Jungkook reaches over, popping open the glove compartment before you and pulling out the first aid kit he keeps there for emergencies. The scent of clean linen wafts over you from his daily cologne. His scent. Only his. You try your best to subdue the possessive smirk forming. “You should be more careful.”

“I’m okay.”

“Be more careful,” he commands, peering up at you with an icy gaze. “Got it?”

Whether it’s the seven-year age gap between the two of you or the tone of his voice, you know better than to argue. “Yes,” you wince as he rubs Neosporin onto the open wound. “Besides, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if my dad wasn’t so… overprotective.”

“Well,” he continues, sticking a pink Baby Shark bandaid to your skin before putting the box back, “as a father, I understand.”

“Yul is two, though,” you laugh, “I’m in my twenties.”

“Being in your early twenties hardly makes you an adult,” he mutters. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The need to protect your children always stays the same.”

“Poor Bunny,” you pout jokingly as you click your seatbelt on. “She’s going to be just like me when she’s older. Sneaking out of a window to see a boy because her daddy is a big grizzly bear.”

The comment has his nose twitching in irritation. “I’m done with this conversation, __.”

You freeze. Have you struck a nerve?

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you peep. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop.” His voice is flat, but your heart thumps. “It’s fine.”

All the excitement you feel suddenly morphs into an uncomfortable ache as you slump into your seat. It’s different than it was last weekend, positioned much closer to the dashboard than you would ever put it. There’s a claustrophobic sting in your chest as you realize someone else has been in this very spot. 

You know they have, and you know who. 

The deafening sound of the bulky silver band on his finger, tapping against the steering wheel as he begins driving to the hotel you frequent, is a sick reminder.

You swear there’s even a musky floral scent lingering in the air. Deeper and more mature than yours. It could be paranoia, or guilt, making you imagine things. Still, you hope your perfume finds its way into every fiber of his leather seats. 

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks, interrupting any rational thought or doubt, luring you back into the vicious cycle. 

“A bit stressful,” you sigh. “I applied for school today.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, pretty sure I messed up on the financial aid paperwork, though. It was super confusing; I didn’t understand any of it.”

“You should’ve brought it over. I could’ve helped you.” 

Jungkook does have a master’s degree in finance. He could’ve been your Rosetta Stone, helping you decipher convoluted questions about taxes and deductions. However, you weren’t sure how he would’ve reacted to you pulling out your laptop post-sex, asking for assistance on something completely unrelated to your normal routine. “That’s not the type of thing we usually do when we’re together,” you shrug, “you know?”

Your response has him shifting in his spot, pierced bottom lip curling inwards like the words made him queasy. He was the one who encouraged you to go back to school in the first place. “I wouldn’t have minded,” Jungkook mumbles before quickly redirecting the dialogue, something he does whenever he’s frustrated or uncomfortable. “So, what’s the special occasion?” 

“Huh?” 

“What’s got you all dolled up?”

Oh, right. That special occasion. The one you’ve been anticipating since you were made aware of its existence. 

“Happy three years sober!” You announce with a cheesy smile, throwing your arms up eagerly. 

“Ah,” he huffs in recognition. His eyes are fixed on the road, but there’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. Success. It takes everything in you not to physically rejoice. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“What do you mean?” You ask with a pout. “How could I forget?”

“I don’t know.” Just like that, the flicker of happiness wisps away like a flame in the wind as his expression turns emotionless and stoic again. “It’s not really a big deal.”

You frown. Must he always be so… cold? 

‘It’s okay to smile; you deserve it,’ is what you want to tell him. It's not your place, though. You opt for: “It’s a huge deal, Jungkook,” instead. Reaching over, you gently tuck the stray strand of hair behind his decorated ear. 

A somber aura hangs around him like a dark, dreary rain cloud, and in moments like this, when it’s so visible, you just… need to touch him.

It’s stupid to think that you’re the special one; that you’ll be the girl to turn the rain into a rainbow and save him from himself, but you can’t refrain from trying. 

“Did you celebrate?”

He shakes his head. “Went to work.” 

You can tell from his outfit—a sleek black blazer resting neatly on top of an even darker button-up and tie. His long hair is slicked back, but gravity, and his ten-hour long shift took their toll, making the strands hang slack, short undercut peaking through. He looks so incredibly sexy. Maybe, you can comfort him in the only way you know how…

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo: 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you splurged on just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so is being with a man like Jungkook. When you finally get to have him the way you want, you’re incapable of rationality. 

One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied…

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips.  “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek in your hand and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear. 

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in. His strong hand grips your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared, and his jaw is clenched painfully tight. He’s pissed. 

You know you should apologize, or be a little shaken up, but the blinking of the turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted. 

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple. 

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth in. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically—his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug—but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel the entire life he’s built for himself. 

Jungkook is an intelligent man, though. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a façade, and everything’s already been undone. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings. 

The contact image would typically make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen makes you sick to your stomach. 

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling you to shut up,  before answering. 

“Yes, Seulgi?”

“Your daughter would like to speak to you.” 

Her voice makes you want to curl into yourself. Whenever you talk to Seulgi regarding Yul, you’re able to compartmentalize and detach that part of yourself from this one. The one that’s sleeping with her husband. Hearing her in this compromised setting makes you feel absolutely repulsive. 

After some rustling and tiny sniffles, Yul answers. “Da-” She only manages a syllable before breaking into a cry-induced coughing fit. You cringe, poor Bunny. “Daddy!”

“What’s wrong with my baby?”

You don’t mean to giggle, especially when the little girl you’ve grown to love so much is clearly distressed, but the intimidating, grumpy, tattooed businessman beside you, talking in full-on pout, tickles your brain just right.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone!” Yul screeches in the most anguished, high-pitched tone.

“Bunny…” With the way his hands scrub down his face, you can tell the tears on the other end are physically affecting him. “Take a deep breath, please.”

There’s a shaky inhale, and a sad whine of an exhale as she tries to steady her respirations.

“Thank you, good job,” he affirms. “Yul, daddy is…” Dark pupils flicker over to you, his face scowled to match. He eyes you like you’re an annoying stain on his leather seat. A dirty little secret that’s keeping him from his daughter. The gesture sends a dagger through your chest. Usually, Jungkook tells his wife he’s working overtime, but he can’t bring himself to lie to his only daughter. “Busy.”

“B-B-But.” The wails have simmered down to a blubber. “Scared.”

“You have mommy, though, don’t you?” He counters exasperatedly, cogs turning at maximum speed to conjure up a solution. “And Ruru?”

Yul is a persistent girl. You’ve seen the two-and-a-half-year-old deadpan Jungkook with a ‘you can have them, then,’ when he tried to convince her that vegetables were delicious and totally not an abomination to tastebuds. “Jeon Ruru is scared, too.”

After a few months of dedication and trust building, Yul finally initiated you into her inner circle of squishmallows, all of which shared the surname, Jeon, followed by whatever random title her baby brain bestowed them. Jeon Ruru, a glass of strawberry milk, was her favorite. You coo in remembrance. 

“What about Ado?” Jungkook suggests, exhausting all his options.

“Ado?” She peeps curiously, and you can almost see her doe eyes scanning the room for her runner-up, an avocado squishmallow you gifted her. “Ado’s sleepin’.”

“Can you go get him?”

There’s a long pause of contemplation before the pitter-patter of tiny feet on wood fills the speakers. “Jeon Ado!” She calls out, voice becoming distant as she runs to her bedroom, “daddy wantsa’ talk to you!” You make out a quiet ‘I’ll tuck you in’ when Seulgi helps her to bed. “Okay,” Yul huffs, breathless from her scurry down the long corridor, “he’s here.”

“Jeon Ado.” You rarely see this side of him, and it takes all of your strength to suppress the smile that’s creeping up. “Can you keep Yul safe while I’m away?” He even leans forward a bit, turning his ear towards the speaker as if he’s actually waiting for the stuffed avocado to answer, subconsciously playing along with his daughter despite being miles apart. The scene puts your overwhelmingly sweet perfume to shame. “Uh, Yul, he said yes. So can you sleep in your big girl bed tonight?”

Reluctantly, Yul grumbles in agreement.

“Alright baby, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

Again, she answers with a little grunt and a yawn.

“I love you.”

“Love youuu!” She extends the vowel for emphasis.

“I love you more.”

There’s a beat of silence before the sleepy girl simply responds ‘yep,’ not even attempting to argue. He glances at you, this time with a wholesome smile, eyes warm with burning stars. It’s moments like this that keep you hooked, you think. Like always, the feeling is short-lived. When Seulgi mumbles a sweet goodnight to her daughter, their daughter, you’re reminded that you shouldn’t even be observing this domestic interaction. 

“You know,” the man begins, turning his attention to his wife, “if you had given her a warm bottle, she would’ve gone down without a hitch.” 

“Jungkook, she’s too old for a bottle.” And just like that, the fire between them ignites. You’ve never actually witnessed the pair fighting, only felt the uncomfortable heat between them in passing. “And she’s too old to be co-sleeping. She never had an issue sleeping alone beforehand.”

“Alright,” he asserts, “if Yul’s okay, then we’re done here.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” Despite his warning, she continues. “Getting her used to sleeping with you and then not being here?”

There were many things about having a daughter that Jungkook wasn’t prepared for.

It’s not that he didn’t do his research, and Yul certainly wasn’t an accident. He had wanted her more than anything. Especially after the… 

Incident.

A baby-sized hole was left in Jungkook’s chest. Every day, it grew bigger and bigger until, eventually, that bitter emptiness would’ve swallowed him alive. 

Jungkook needed Yul. 

Still, there were certain things that parenting books and videos hadn’t warned him about, like the worry in his stomach whenever his daughter refuses her lunch, or the ache in his heart when he drops her off at daycare and she watches him leave through the window with a sad wave and tears rolling down her cheeks as if he’s just abandoned her forever. As if he or his wife aren’t going to pick her up in a mere four hours like they do every Tuesday and Thursday. His readings haven’t prepared him for the even stronger ache that consumes his entire body whenever he leaves for work too early and comes home too late, with barely any time to spend with his favorite person in the world.  

Before Yul was even born, Jungkook and Seulgi had decided that co-sleeping was out of the question. Their room was for them, and he stood firm on that principle for a while. However, as time passed, their room became Seulgi’s, and the empty bedroom downstairs became his. 

Jungkook couldn’t stand that room. 

One night, after a particularly grueling shift, Jungkook trudges up the stairs for a late shower. Without finance talk or Yul’s babbles, he’s left to his own thoughts. Usually, under the scalding water, he wondered how his life turned out this way, or more so, why? This time, Jungkook wonders if there is even a reason to keep going at all.

He catches his reflection while brushing his teeth. His eyes are dark, cold, distant. Those same eyes belong to his daughter, but all he sees when looking into hers is love, innocence, and everything good in life. 

Maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for him. 

Taking a detour to Yul’s room, Jungkook does his best to quietly tip-toe around squishmallows and discarded markers. Underneath the pink blanket is a little ball of fluffy black hair. She’s got her thumb in her mouth—a bad habit he and Seulgi had been trying to nip in the bud—with her chubby cheeks squished against her pillow. There were few things he hated more than waking her up, especially when she was sleeping so peacefully, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t stop himself. 

Tiny, confused cries fill the room as Jungkook scoops her up. 

“Shh,” he hushes, smoothing his palm over her onesie-clad back. “It’s just me.”

“Da- ddy?” Immediately, she relaxes at the familiar sound of his voice, words slurred as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes with a little fist before peering up at him with big marble eyes. 

“How was daycare, Bunny?” 

“Scared,” she whimpers, slumping into his chest for comfort. “Scaredy cat.”

“Scaredy cat?” Jungkook repeats, trying to make sense of the phrase. “Who’s a scaredy cat?”

“Jeon Yul.” 

Typically, Jungkook finds it adorable when Yul refers to herself in the third person. The way she says it this time makes him frown. “Jeon Yul is not a scaredy cat. Jeon Yul is a baby, that’s all.” Realizing that she’d probably heard the unfavorable title at daycare, his chest tightens. With a heavy sigh, he rests his chin on top of her round head, swaying back and forth. Her hair smells like green apples from her baby soap. “Why were you scared, sweetheart?”

“No color…” 

On his lunch break, Seulgi informed him that she was picking Yul up early. In an attempt to encourage her to engage with other children, the teacher took away Yul’s crayons, sending her into a full-blown tantrum. Jungkook knew his daughter well, a spitting image of him in every capacity. The crayons weren’t the problem; it was that crippling shyness that made her afraid of socializing with nearly anyone other than you and her parents.

Her back ripples with tiny hiccups as she recounts the events. Jungkook decides it’s best to change the subject, not wanting to upset his two-year-old anymore—especially this late at night. 

“Guess what?”

Yul grunts an inquisitive noise.

“Daddy got you Baby Shark coloring books.”

Her wispy bedhead bounces as she glances side to side, inspecting her room for any sign of new Pinkfong merchandise. Jungkook was genuinely amazed at her ability to keep track of it all, considering how much he and his wife loved to spoil her rotten. However, the word ‘rotten’ doesn’t even come close to describing his baby. “Where?”

“In my car,” he laughs, slicking her choppy bangs out of her eyes. “We’ll color tomorrow., okay?”

“I like Baby Shark,” Yul says, completely ignoring his question. The teeniest, tiniest, most precious yawn slips out, two little front teeth on full display before her lips smack together sleepily. Truly living up to her nickname.

“I know you do.” He’s still rocking her gently, buying some time before she falls back into sleep’s arms and out of his. “I missed you so much today.” 

“Why?”

As of late, ‘why’ seems to be Yul’s favorite word. 

Why is the sky blue?

Why do vegetables taste yucky?

Why is daddy’s nose so big?

He’d be lying if he said that last, brutally honest question hadn’t caught him off guard when she first uttered it on his hip at the grocery store. 

“Because I love you.” It’s the most effortless sentence he’s ever spoken. The most natural feeling he’s ever felt.

“Why?” 

“Because,” his eye roll is disconnected from his growing smile, “you’re so cute!” If they weren’t enclosed by the four pink walls of Yul’s bedroom, Jungkook would be embarrassed at the squeakiness of his usual monotone voice. Leaning down, Jungkook blows a raspberry against her doughy cheek, a tried and true method of making her laugh. “Do you want to sleep in my room?”

It’s against his better judgment and the ground rules he had agreed to, but he just… really needs to spend time with her tonight. The small nod against his chest seals the deal. Before he gets to the door, Yul stops him with an exaggerated gasp.

“Daddy, Ruru!”

“Ruru?” 

She grunts, frustrated at her father’s confusion, frantically pointing at her partner in crime, the strawberry milk squishmallow lying neatly underneath her comforter. Just how she left it.

“Yul,” Jungkook starts, taking a few steps backward and bending at the waist, allowing her to take the oversized stuffie into her arms. “Isn’t this Mimi?” As far as Jungkook knows, the pink milk carton with a face had always been Mimi; a name Yul had dubbed it since he brought it home a couple months back.

“Ruru,” she states affirmatively. 

And ever since then, Yul’s been a co-sleeper. 

Jungkook prided himself on knowing his daughter like the back of his tattooed hand. Whether it’s a sixth sense, some innate father’s instinct that the parenting videos mentioned, or his own attention to detail, he could read her like a book. However, sharing a bed with the tiny human taught him something he had been blissfully unaware of:

Yul sleeps wild. 

More often than not, Jungkook was awoken by a tiny foot kicking his back, or by his own reflexes as he was somehow pushed to the very corner of the bed by his twenty-pound baby. There were even a few times when a harsh tug on his hair acted as an alarm clock. When he turned around to confront the culprit, however, she was fast asleep, arm slung over one of the many squishmallows that had worked their way into his room. 

Having her with him was worth all bald spots and bruises, though. It’s bad, he knows it, and night by night, Yul becomes more attached. Getting her acclimated to daycare had been hell, to say the least. He knows co-sleeping has possibly made her more reluctant to socialize than she already was. 

Still, Jungkook can’t help but wonder who’s more dependent on the other. When he thinks about it, undoubtedly, the answer is him. Because as long as he wakes up to a little foot in his back, a fist in his hair, and the smell of green apple baby soap, he has a reason to keep going. 

“Don’t you think she deserves better?”

Her sharp words swipe through the air like a blade. Even you feel the cut, cautiously eyeing Jungkook. You can’t read his expression, but something about it makes you rub a comforting hand over his shoulder. He doesn’t react to your touch at all.

There’s a sullen pause before he finally answers. “I think Yul deserves everything.”

“Right… Goodnight, Jungkook.” She hangs up before he has the chance to respond. Seulgi always struck you as a level-headed person, albeit a bit aloof, but never unfair or cruel. You assume she’s just being spiteful, because anyone who knows Jungkook would never question his dedication to his daughter. That ugly, bitter, jealous side of you thinks maybe she just doesn’t know him the way you do. 

“Are you okay?” You whisper as if approaching a wounded animal, ready to attack. 

“On Fridays,” he starts, eyes shamefully dropping to his fidgeting hands. “Yul spends the day with my parents.”

His incessant need to defend his parenting makes your heart ache. “Hey, I-”

“She’s usually asleep by the time I leave work.” 

“Kook,” you interrupt his rambling. “You don’t have to explain; I understand... I think you’re an amazing father.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook looks you directly in the eyes. His are glassy and gentle now, but the fingers that hook into your lace bra, right between the cups, are rough and abrasive. “C’mere,” he gruffs, pulling you over the center console until you’re uncomfortably sandwiched between his solid chest and the steering wheel. There’s no effort to make room for you; he doesn’t slide his seat back. He doesn’t compromise any of his space for you. You accept it, steadying yourself on his shoulders with a grunt. 

Sometimes, you question what your presence in his life truly is. Are you an escape or a punching bag? Are you merely something he can sink his nails and teeth into when angry? Something he can break without consequence? The sound of thread ripping and buttons popping fills the car as he slides the silk off your shoulders, letting the delicate material fall to the floor without a care in the world.

“You wore this for me?” A fingertip lightly traces the petite swell of your breasts, barely bulging over the frilly black cups of your push-up. The sensation sets your skin ablaze.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “I wanted today to be special.”

“You care about me?” Moonlight cuts through the dewy window, beaming against the side of his face, highlighting the taut pull in his features. His question seems genuine, but the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Simply being here with him makes the entire foundation of your soul, all of your morals and beliefs, crumble to pieces. Against your better judgment, you’re still here. 

Yearning. Trying. Fighting.

You swipe a thumb over his thick brows, trying to ease the angry crinkle that’s become a permanent fixture on his beautiful face. You comb through his hair. It’s a little knotted, a little crunchy from old gel. 

The answer should be obvious, but you don’t think Jungkook could internalize love if it was right in front of him.

“I care about you,” you say truthfully, “a lot.”

The stars in his eyes gleam for a moment, glowing bright and vibrant, before they’re engulfed by the suffocating blackness of his pupils. 

“You poor thing,” Jungkook tuts, trailing his fingers up your neck before grasping your jaw with a single hand. The baby fat of your cheeks mushes together from the force. “You're gonna let me do whatever I want to you, aren't you?”

The tone of his voice has your heart fluttering and your stomach churning with thick hot desire. Gripping his wrist with both hands, you moan out a ‘yes,’ unconsciously grinding down onto his slack-covered bulge. He’s barely touched you yet and your cunt is leaking, making a mess of your itty bitty thong and his work suit. 

“Right, of course.” With the same hand holding you, Jungkook taps his index finger against your glossy pout, “open.” Just barely parting your lips, you let the thick digit slide between them. Immediately, he presses down against your tongue, trying to coax a gag out of you. “What if I want to fuck this pretty little mouth until you cry? How does that sound? Would you like that?”

Inhaling deeply, you nod. That sounds absolutely perfect.

“I don’t know if you can handle it, though,” he lulls, retracting his finger before plunging it back in, all the up to his inked knuckle. You squint in defiance. He’s teasing, but you can’t fight the tinge of anger in your chest. If there’s one thing you can do, it’s suck a mean dick. Looking him directly in the eyes, you swirl your tongue against his palm with ease, not choking once. You feel his cock twitch against the supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

Unamused by your antics, Jungkook yanks his hand back angrily, making a string of saliva drip down your chin. Maybe a full face of makeup wasn’t the best idea. “Get in the backseat,” he orders huskily, wiping the damp skin on his blazer. Biting back a smirk, you climb off his lap and wriggle over the center console. You situate yourself on the cool leather, laying down and assuming face-fuck position. 

The yellow glow of headlights swims across the ceiling as a passing car drifts down the misty highway. This is the first time in five months that you and Jungkook are out in the open, blissfully oblivious to the possibility of getting caught. It’s childish, but you hope someone sees. For a moment in time—in a wandering eye’s glimpse of reality—you’re his and he's yours.

“Couldn’t wait until we got to the hotel, huh?” Jungkook huffs when he opens the door. Giddily, you lean your head back over the edge of the seat, coming face to face with the tent in his pants. His hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt, desperate to bury himself inside of you. His favorite escape. “Well, since you want to act like a fucking whore-” his pants fall to his knees with a clang when he unbuttons them, “-I’ll treat you like one.”

“Please,” you whimper, noting the wet spot on his gray Calvin Kleins. Reaching up, you lightly drag your nails across it, teasingly pinching the head of his cock before he tugs his boxers down. A big greedy smile spreads across your face as his semi springs out. 

The sight makes your lips part. It’s so pretty. Something about how the moonlight catches the glowy pink tip, peeking out from under his foreskin. The light accentuates every ridge and vein on his girthy shaft. So yummy it has you drooling-

Jungkook’s right. You’re a complete and utter whore.

“Is this what you wanted?” He peers down at you over his prominent nose, one hand clutching the roof of his Mercedes. The other wraps around his thick shaft, giving it a few languid pumps, getting himself fully erect for you. Teasingly, he taps the head against your plump lips. Unable to resist, you press a sweet peck and a kitten lick to his silky frenulum. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles, raising his delicious cock just beyond your reach. “You know better than that. Ask for permission.”

“Wanna suck it,” you pout, squirming impatiently. “Please?”

Suddenly, his heavy cock slaps your cheek with a wet thud.

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl.” The praise is contradicted by another light smack to your face, this time with an open palm. Taking the hint, you open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out in anticipation. Jungkook watches you intently with furrowed brows and a slack jaw as he feeds you the first few inches. As soon as the salty flavor of his arousal hits your tastebuds, you moan obnoxiously, back arching off the leather beneath you. 

He starts slowly, using your breathing to guide his movements—pausing on the exhales and giving you a bit more on the inhales. He does this until the entirety of his length is shoved down your warm, wet mouth. 

The hem of his black dress shirt flows over you, obstructing his view. He places it between his teeth with an annoyed groan, wanting to watch the swell in your neck as you swallow him like a snake. “You take it so well,” he grunts over the material, “the best I’ve ever had.”

Tears clinging to your lashes finally lose grip, trickling down your skin until they get lost in the thick, dark swoops of your dangling hair. For once, you mean something more to him than she does. It’s insignificant and shameful, but at least it's something.

“Are you okay, __?” Jungkook asks, sensing the shift as your soul splays before him like your half-naked body. Stepping back, he gives you some reprieve.

With red eyes and drool bubbling at the corners of your lips, you moan out an implied ‘yes.’ His confession has you on cloud nine.

“Do you remember the sign?”

Again, you hum. 

“Can you show me?”

Lazily, you tap his outer thigh three times, a hard ‘stop’ symbol you had agreed upon months ago while hanging off the edge of a hotel bed, preparing for Jungkook to fuck your mouth for the very first time. 

“Good girl,” he says before rutting his entire length into you again. He’s so deep that the soft skin of his scrotum nudges against the tip of your nose, and the dense patch of trimmed hair on his pubic bone tickles your chin. Reaching down, Jungkook grips your neck, reveling in the feeling of it stretching against his palm as he moves in and out steadily. 

Eventually, he hunches over, hands wandering down and holding your temples for better leverage. Despite the harsh digs of his hips, his delicate fingers brush away a few strands of hair stuck to your damp cheeks. The sweet gesture makes you whimper around him in pure ecstasy, moving your head to meet his thrusts for extra stimulation, circling your flat tongue around the base. 

The whistles of the midnight breeze and the murmur of passing cars fade, and all you hear is Jungkook. The melodic, venomous praises pouring out of him poison your mind with optimism. He takes one last plunge, so powerful it sends you sliding back against the seat. To steady yourself, you grip his legs, attempting to ease your triggered gag reflex. He holds you there, cock stuffed to the brim as he slams a hand against the black steel of his car, shirt falling from his teeth as he moans ardently. You gasp when he finally pulls out, leaking tip still connected to you by a bridge of spit and precum.

“Why-” Cough. “Why did you stop?” 

Your question is met with only the sound of rustling fabric and the chime of his hanging belt buckle as he removes his suit jacket and throws it into the passenger seat. Grabbing you by the band of your lingerie, Jungkook hauls your frame closer.

He snaps your taut bra strap against your shoulder with a single finger. “Take this off.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter, still trying to catch your breath as you sit up at the waist and unclip your bra. A shiver runs down your spine as the cool night air licks your exposed chest. This time when you lie down, you’re positioned under his spread legs. He stands over you with such authority and dominance. The underside view of his hard cock looks absolutely menacing. 

“These,” Jungkook’s large palms grab at your tits, jiggling them, “I wanna fuck ‘em.”

“There isn’t anything for you to fuck,” you giggle. 

After years of insecurity, and crying over vengeful comments from dumb boys you had broken things off with, you finally came to terms with your appearance. Your tits are small, and that’s okay. Plus, the cute little nipple piercings you had gotten a while back were definitely a confidence booster. There wasn’t an ounce of self-hatred in your comment.

Jungkook doesn’t take it that way, though.

“Shut up.” With a huff, he steps back and hunches, reaching down to deliver a harsh swat to your cheek. It was a little rougher than usual, and you wince upon impact. Instantly, he soothes the skin with a gentle pet. “Your tits are… perfect.”

Perfect? Your cheeks and aching pussy heat up at the compliment.

Squeezing your chest, Jungkook brushes his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He pays extra attention to the silver barbells, decorated with little sparkly peaches at the ends. “These are new,” he notes, tugging on the jewelry. You let out a breathy moan, legs clenching together, inner thighs embarrassingly wet. “Sheesh,” he laughs, “someone’s sensitive.”

“Yeah… keep going.”

“I like them. They’re cute on you.”

Throughout your acquaintances, Jungkook was rarely this vocal. Maybe some praise sprinkled in here and there, but seldom anything substantial. Tonight, however, he’s been dishing out sweet talk like candy. You can’t pinpoint precisely what, but something’s changed.

Whatever it is, it fills you with awful, wishful hope.

Jungkook shuffles closer, teasing the teat of your pierced bud with his sticky tip. The dreamy sensation has your eyes rolling back into your skull. A glob of spit drops between the valley of your breasts before he spreads the wetness over your skin with his shaft. He has to use a death grip to force your tits into a soft plushness, perfect for him to slot himself into. Again, you feel that fucking ring embedding itself into your skin like a nasty tick. 

Cautiously, he guides his pulsing cock between your constrained breasts. A beautiful symphony of groans lulls out as he throws his head back in pleasure, long locks dancing along his clammy neck. 

“You like that?” You hum, taunting him. “Tell me how it feels.”

It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, eyes trained on your tits pillowing around him, focusing on the dewy sheen of your nipples and chest as his oozing cock spills onto your skin. “It feels-” his hips stutter, “-so fucking good.”

The way his teeth snarl around the hushed curse makes you smile, eyes closing as you relish in his pleasure. Maybe you’re too horny, or perhaps the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is making you crazy, but you wish you could live in this moment forever. Wallowing in the darkness, frozen in time with him. Yeah, you think, that would be wonderful.

“You can touch yourself,” he comments, spotting your clenched legs, desperate for some pressure. 

“S’okay,” you mumble, reaching around to caress his balls. His thighs tremble a bit against your arms. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Can you-” he grunts, stomach clenching as he begins to feel that familiar pooling in the base of his thick shaft. “Hold them for me. I’ll take care of you after, just- let me cum.”

Obliging, you replace his hands with your own, squishing your tits together for him. The visual of you lying under him, complacent and willing, sends him spiraling. A guttural roar echoes throughout the empty road as he speeds up. “Tighter,” he orders; you listen. The saliva and precum are beginning to rub off, making the friction of his chaotic thrusts sting your skin. He notices, letting another string of spit fall from his mouth onto your flesh. “Be good and take it. I’m almost there.”

By now, Jungkook should know you’d endure any pain to be with him. 

The darkest parts of your brain tell you he’s well aware of that fact. 

After a few more humps and lulled words of encouragement, he’s bursting at the seams. Just before he blows, Jungkook steps back, tight fist jerking himself frantically as he spills his seed onto your chest. Your eyes dart from his angry cock to his fucked out expressions. The moonlight shines behind him like a glowing aura as he finishes with a scrunched nose and his tongue between his teeth. He looks angelic. You moan under him, flinching when a stray spurt lands on your chin. 

Fucked out and dazed, he laughs softly, running a hand through his hair as his chest heaves. Collecting the liquid with his finger, he brings it to your giggling lips. The taste makes you hum as you lazily begin rubbing his cum all over your tits. 

“Really?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “You’re already starting?”

“Starting what?” You pout, batting your lashes at him and circling your nipple lightly with the tip of your nail, trying your best to look oblivious and innocent. Well, as innocent as you possibly can while literally covered in sperm. 

“Don’t play dumb. You know what you’re doing.”

See, in many ways, Jungkook is different from any other guy you’ve been with prior. For one, you didn’t meet via horny messages on Tinder at 1 a.m. For two, he’s older, meaning he’s much more intelligent and much more experienced. After years and years of honing in on his craft, he just knows how to fuck. Jungkook is one of the rare few penis-havers in the world who can orgasm back to back; no refractory period necessary. Truly a hidden gem. 

To put it simply, the man is a fucking faucet—one that you can turn off and on whenever you want. 

As if on cue, Jungkook twirls his inked finger, indicating for you to turn around. The other hand squeezes his cock just below the crown to cut off circulation, keeping himself erect. With that, your white converses are planted flat onto the sparse grass as you bend over the back seat, leaning your weight on your elbows. 

It's like whiplash when Jungkook's aggressive persona drops, and he's running his hands all over your body. Up your thighs, over your back, down your arms. He blooms petal-soft kisses on your bare shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Can I go in like this? Or do you need some foreplay?”

“This is fine,” you murmur, jarred by his sudden tenderness. “Perfect, actually.” 

With a hushed ‘alright,’ Jungkook reaches over you to rummage through the pocket of his discarded blazer. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as he pulls out a square foil packet. Condoms were an unwavering constant in your weekend escapades. Jungkook always wears condoms. Normally, that would be a great thing; however, in this situation, it’s like a stab to the heart…

Because if he’s adamant about using protection with you, then that means he’s still sleeping with her, doesn’t it? And it’s not like you can even ask or scold him about it. She’s his wife, after all. You’re the outsider. 

Jungkook hooks his thumb into your panties and pulls them aside. Your glistening folds are on full display, waiting to get pounded mercilessly right on the side of the road. He shoves three digits into your mouth, letting your drool on them a bit before pressing them to your wet cunt. Opening your folds with his index and ring fingers, he lightly dips the middle inside you. He collects some arousal and spreads it to your clit in feathery flicking motions. You cry out, feeling the shocks of a blossoming orgasm. 

“Already dripping, I see.” You can practically hear his cocky, satisfied grin as he stands straight and rolls the condom down his length. “Always so sensitive.”

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, “I always get like this with you.”

“I know you do.” Pulling a cheek to the side, Jungkook cards his sheathed tip through your entrance, making sure to nudge under your clitoral hood with every swipe. Lewd wet sounds ring in your ears as he tortures your hole relentlessly. 

“Kook,” you huff, reaching back to dig your manicured, almond-shaped nails into his skin. “Just put it in!”

Suddenly, Jungkook slams your torso onto the leather. In one swift motion, he’s catching your wrists, pinning them both to your lower back with a single hand. 

“I’ll give you what you want just-” releasing the back of your neck, he spanks you so hard you recoil, “be patient.”

Despite his words, you wait no longer than a minute before he’s guiding his dreamy member right where you want it. Jungkook always gives in quickly. How could he not when you’re ass up, face down, and practically begging? As he sinks into you, and you feel that familiar burn from the initial stretch, your eyes roll back, mouth opening around a silent scream. 

Usually, Jungkook likes to overwhelm you with his entire length all at once. There’s some hesitation this time as he slides in only halfway before stopping. Too much hesitation for your liking. You’re confident he’s testing you. Your assumption is verified when he speaks in that annoying, condescending voice.

“If you want it so bad, come get it.”

“You’re so,” breaking free from his grasp, you press your palms into the seat and lift yourself up with a grumble, “infuriating.”

He hums halfheartedly, head dropping to watch you work yourself onto him. Only a single stroke in, and he can already see you coating him in a shiny, milky dew. “So fucking wet…”

“Can’t help it,” you peep, taking him to the hilt and circling your hips, trying to savor the feeling. You’re no stranger to his cock; how good it makes you feel. You spend every Friday night bathing in that pleasure, forgoing parties and hangouts with your best friends for a romp in the five-star hotel sheets with Jungkook. Still, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to commit his touch to memory. Perhaps, despite your denial, you recognize that this is temporary. Deep down, you know that someday, all you’ll have left of him is a tragic echo. “I love the way you make me feel.”

“Me too,” he gasps, guiding your movements as his fingers dig into your hips. Clearly interpreting your admission differently than you had meant it. “Your pussy’s like heaven.” 

High on praise and drunk on the sounds you’re coaxing out of him, you whine, dragging your cunt up every inch of his throbbing length before slamming back. Hopefully, the dense forest behind you is enough to insulate the pornographic wails ripping through you. Even if someone somewhere hears, you can’t bring yourself to give a damn. Not when heady pleasure and adrenaline course through your veins like blood. 

Just when you’re about to collapse, arms giving out underneath you, Jungkook grabs you by the neck and holds you flush against his toned chest. “Don’t you run,” he chuckles. The low baritone rumble goes straight to your clit. His warm breath gusts over your skin, contrasting the chilly night air. “Don’t give up on me.”

He’s pounding into you now, choking you tighter than he ever has, but he pecks you so delicately. Lips barely ghosting over the shell of your ear. So gentle and tender. As tears stream down your cheeks for the second time tonight, you can’t help but feel there’s a hidden meaning behind his words.

“What’s wrong?” He smirks, tilting your face, wanting you to look him in the eye as you fall apart. The visual nearly makes you combust. His stringy hair is sticking to his cheeks, flushed from exertion. Even the tattoos littering the expanse of his neck are splotched pink and red. Twisting in his hold, you grab a fistful of his damp waves, fingers tickling his short undercut. “What do you want, baby?”

“Cum…”

“You wanna cum?”

“Please, please, please.” Weak whimpers punch out of you in tandem with his brutal thrusts.

“What do you say?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl,” he rewards you with a smack to your sensitive clit, “you can cum. I’ve got you.”

And with his permission, you’re cumming. Your legs shake violently as you’re overcome with blinding, electric gratification. If it wasn’t for Jungkook’s strong arms supporting you, you would’ve toppled face-first into the seat. He fucks you through the height of your orgasm; hips never ceasing, even when everything becomes so intense and sensitive that your body instinctively tries to push him away. He watches your face intently, reading your expressions to ensure he’s milked every last drop of your orgasm before he lets you fall onto the leather.

Even in your hazy state, you catch the breathy string of curses, a telltale sign of his own impending orgasm. “Fuck!” He groans, removing the condom to paint your ass and lower back in hot, white ropes. 

It’s funny, really. 

He refuses to cum with you or inside you, something so intimate and special, but he has no qualms cumming on you. It’s almost like he’s marking you, burning himself into your flesh. Consuming a piece of you every time your bodies come together as one. 

And all the while, his mind is somewhere else as his body swallows you alive. 

“Look at you,” Jungkook laughs, smoothing a palm up and down your spine, rubbing his semen into your skin the same way you had earlier. “I’ve made a mess out of you.” 

That’s true in more ways than one…

Lost in post-nut clarity, your brain barely registers Jungkook maneuvering you both into the car. Closing the door behind him, he moves you onto his lap, your back pressed against his sweaty button-up. Peering down, you see his slacks and boxers still around his ankles, black dress shoes poking out underneath. You’re in only a thong and sneakers, and your makeup is definitely melted. The two of you must look like the biggest sluts ever.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook mutters, noticing your delirious giggles. 

“Oh, nothing,” you hum, leaning into him. Habitually, he wraps both of his inked arms around your middle. You despise how incredibly natural and serendipitous it feels, almost like you’re meant to be in them.

God __, get your head out of the clouds and return to Earth. 

Life isn’t a romance novel, and you’re not a child anymore. You shouldn’t see the world as quartz-colored and magical. The man is seven years older than you. He has a wife and child. Logistically, it could never, ever work…

But if soulmates exist as they do in the books, you wish on every falling star that Jungkook is yours.

“What are you thinking about?” You coo softly, turning your head to stare into the abyss of his infinite eyes.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he can’t resist lowering his sinful hand to your most private area, cupping your sex unabashedly. “I want more.”

“You always want more.” 

“So do you,” he laughs, pointing out the way you grind into his touch. Nuzzling into your shoulder, he nips your skin and then soothes his tongue over it like an insincere apology. “Just one more time, okay?”

You nod, head leaning back on his shoulder as you succumb to his skilled fingers, rubbing your clit in tight circles. Jungkook pauses in contemplation before popping his glistening fingers into his mouth. When the taste hits his tongue, his face contorts. He even moans dreamily like you’re the most delicious dessert he’s experienced. The scene has your own brows furrowing, lips parting at just how hot and bothered he’s got you. 

Sensually, he trails the wet pads down, ghosting over a nipple, teasing you on their treacherous journey to your waiting core. He slides them in your wet cunt seamlessly, curling right into your g-spot. They move in a dip and wave that drives you wild, a wet suction noise sounding in the enclosed space. Turned on by your purrs and mewls, Jungkook subtly ruts against you, his plumping cock sliding between your cheeks.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?” He tuts patronizingly. “Gonna cum around my fingers, sweetheart?”

“No…”

“No?”

“Wanna cum with you…”

He stops, realizing what you’re alluding to, before pulling his fingers out and tapping your clit gently. “There’s another condom in my pocket. Can you hand it to me?”

“We don’t need it.”

“Yes, we do. Don’t be foolish.”

“... I’m on the pill,” you suggest hesitantly. Once again, you’re nothing but stupid and irresponsible when it comes to Jungkook. You just want to be with him, that’s all. 

“__,” he starts, voice shadowed with sternness, “give me the condom.”

Realizing he won’t budge, you do as he asks and fish it from his blazer, watching idly as he goes through all the steps—stroking himself to full mass, rolling on a barrier, and then positioning you between his spread legs as he guides you down onto his length with a hand on your hip. 

Cyclical. 

Like clockwork, your jaw drops, eyes screwing shut as you let him invade your space and infiltrate your mind. You don’t believe the two of you have ever tried this position before, but it feels so fucking good. His cock is so deep you can feel it in your fucking stomach. It’s obvious from his groaning and the aggressive spank he gives you that the unexplored angle is affecting him too. 

Outside, light rain begins chiming against the steel roof of his car as you take the first shallow rise of your hips. 

Scratch everything you’ve said about this not being a romance novel.

Distracted by the calming sound, you thoroughly miscalculate how much space you have in his sleek Mercedes Benz and bonk your head on the ceiling.

“Ow,” you wince with an embarrassed giggle.

Hissing at the impact, Jungkook clutches your head, massaging the area gently. “Are you okay?” His voice is muffled, and you can tell he’s trying his best not to laugh. 

“It’s not funny!” You shout playfully, slapping his knee. 

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” Chuckling, he moves your hair and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. “You’re cute, that's all.”

Cute? You swoon. 

“Alright baby, keep going. Don’t stop,” Jungkook orders, the heel of his calloused palms pushing at your ass, encouraging you to bounce on his needy cock. A fucked-out sigh escapes him, head falling back for a split second before it jerks back up again, not wanting to miss the view of your perky cheeks rippling as they collide with his solid pelvis. “This position is so sexy.” Overwhelmed, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. He chokes you for a moment, plays with your tits, swats them, grabs your hips, and then finally settles on your clit, flicking it like a light switch.

“Jungkook!” You wail, knees knocking together as you brace yourself. Men you’ve dated in the past struggled to get you off. Sure, they made you feel good, but they couldn’t quite bring you to the edge. It only ever took Jungkook a matter of minutes to have you whimpering and shaking, begging for release. “I can’t take so much! I can’t!”

Ignoring your pleas, Jungkook pilots your right arm around his shoulder, sending you flush against his frame once more. Dipping his head, he sucks the closest nipple into his mouth. Caught off guard, you’re so overstimulated that your hips come to a grinding halt.

“Move,” he commands with his lips sealed around your piercing, sending dizzying vibrations to your sensitive bud. 

“I can’t,” you whimper, back arching off his chest as you try to calm all five tingling senses. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“No…”

Jeon Jungkook was never one to take no for an answer. 

Scooting further down the seat, his large hands clasp behind your knees. He lifts your legs until the heels of your white sneakers are on either side of the driver’s headrest. In this new position, he’s able to pound up into you freely, relentlessly beating into clenching walls. Hitting every single delicious spot inside of you. “Jungkook, please!”

“Please, what?” Honestly, you have no clue what you’re begging for. All you know is that his mushroom tip rigorously stimulating your g-spot is going to have you gushing at any moment. His guttural, sensual groaning does nothing to slow your approaching orgasm. “You want more?” 

As if you weren’t already gasping for air, Jungkook raises your legs to your head, knees locked onto his inner elbows. His fingers intertwine behind your neck, thumbs pressing into the base of your throat as he folds you in half. 

A full fucking nelson. 

“Watch me fuck it.” With a stern grip, he forces your gaze to his thick shaft, sliding in and out of your sopping cunt. Your vision is watery, but you can clearly see just how turned on you are, creamy juices coating his entire shaft. “Open it, baby. Watch what I do to you.” 

Reaching both hands under your thighs, you spread your lips, getting a better look at him completely destroying you.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” Jungkook grunts, speech slurred as his arousal lulls him into a delirious, catatonic state. “Tell me what you see, baby.”

“So pretty, Kook.” You’re simply playing into his dirty talk, but the sight of your bodies connecting, becoming one, is profoundly gorgeous. “So wet…”

“Yeah? Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

That sends him into a frenzy, thrusts becoming so punctuated and violent that his cock accidentally slips out. 

“Put it back in, put it back in!” You chant, frantically shoving his length into you. The yelp you chortle out is accompanied by the sound of your hand smacking against the foggy car window as your climax engulfs you. “I love it!”

“I love yo-”

He quickly cuts himself off, but everything stops when the sentence fragment hits the air. 

Is your brain playing sick, twisted jokes on you… or was he really just about to say he loved you?

Before you can even process what’s happening, your biological responses take over, sending through the most earth-shattering, world-bending, mind-boggling orgasm you’ve ever had. Everything goes blank. Your eyes cloud with splotches and stars. Your ears ring with static and white noise, blurring the sound of Jungkook cumming underneath you, and the pouring rain outside, splashing against concrete. 

This time, he doesn’t pull out, just works through both of your orgasms with gentle ruts and vulnerable whimpers.

After you’ve both calmed down and your heaves have diminished to a slow, even pattern, he pulls out, crumpling the used condom into a loose napkin he found in the center console. Still on his lap and in his arms, you watch intently as Jungkook leans his head back, eyes closing as he inhales deeply. To you, he looks almost… peaceful. 

The moon trickles in through the thin streams on the window, reflecting on his face like stained glass—something that was once so clear and pure now jaded with somber shades of blue. Sad, but still beautiful, you think. 

Delicately, you trace a finger over the black ink decorating his skin. You sit silently for a while, basking in the comfortable aura, simply enjoying one another’s company, before you finally speak.

“Why this?” You peep, pointing to the dainty letters at the base of his neck.

“It’s my daughter’s name.” He counters playfully, the faintest hint of a smile on his pierced lips.

“Well, duh, I know that,” you roll your eyes with a giggle, “but why here?”

“Yul is like air to me.” 

Humming in contemplation, you continue your journey over the endless swirls and loops. During sex, the first three buttons of his shirt popped open, exposing the canvas of his chest. You feel a thick, dark cloud loom over you when you reach a certain tattoo, the one that’s plagued your mind ever since you first saw it. 

Another name is engraved right above his heart in the same delicate font as Yul’s:

Seol. 

“Yul, please. Enough.” If Jungkook had a dollar for every time he's said that in the last twenty-two minutes, he’d be nearly as rich as his boss, sitting directly in front of him on a very important Zoom call. “Daddy is working.”

Jumping at the sudden inflection of his voice, the little girl on his lap pulls her tiny hand away. For the most part, Yul was well-behaved. However, working from home proved to be an obstacle that he and his clingy toddler have yet to overcome. 

She’s interrupted his meeting three times already. First, cutting off his proposal with the Baby Shark theme song, blaring from her Pinkfong tablet that he’d forgotten to mute. Second, peeking above his desk with her space buns and doe eyes to show his colleagues the latest addition to her squishmallow collection. The last straw was when she squeezed his nose. 

With watery eyes and warbled lips, Yul blinks at Jungkook, heartbroken and confused as to why he didn’t make that funny noise she loves so much. Quickly, her gaze averts to her chunky legs, swinging aimlessly as she attempts to hold back the tears.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Jungkook sighs, tacking on an apology before turning his screen off. “Bunny,” he lifts her chin with his index finger, another palm flat on her protruding tummy, “please, don’t cry. You’re not in trouble. Daddy just-”

The ring of a doorbell interrupts him.

“__?” Jungkook questions, baby at his hip as he stands in the doorway before you. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp. You weren’t expecting to see him.

Usually, you spoke to Seulgi. You’ve only ever seen Jungkook in passing, sparing quick greetings before he’s out the door. It worked in your favor, really, because for whatever reason, you felt extremely awkward around him.

Almost like that gross nervousness you get when you’re around someone you find so incredibly attractive it makes you uncomfortable…

Maybe it’s because he’s covered in tattoos and piercings. Maybe it’s because he’s a dad. Your group of fellow horny twenty-something-year-old friends have told you mythical stories and fantasies about older men. Freshly turned thirty-year-old men. Men like Jungkook. Dilfs. Something about that potent dad nut… Like, you know it works. 

It’s inappropriate; you know it is. You’ve always tried your best to ignore the feral thoughts.

Today seems to be putting your mental strength to the test because Jungkook is dressed in baggy gray sweats, long dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. A few loose strands dangle devilishly in front of his eyes, taunting you.

“I-It’s 10… I’m supposed to be babysitting.”

“I’m working from home today. My wife didn’t tell you?”

With wide eyes and hot cheeks, you shake your head. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” you stutter, stepping back and preparing to make a mad dash to your hand-me-down Honda Civic. “I’ll just… be on my way then.” 

“Actually.” An icy grip on your wrist stops you. “I could use some help. This one-” he nods his head towards Yul, stuck to him like velcro, “-is being a bit needy today.” 

One look at her turns your flustered gape into a smile. The past month with her has been more difficult than you’d imagined. Yul was incredibly sweet and intuitive, but unbearably shy. Building a relationship with the girl was challenging, but you were determined to overcome it. “No way,” you frown animatedly, tickling her leg with the tip of your finger, “Yul would never.”

A giggle or two had been the goal. Instead, she buries her face into her father’s shoulder.

“Don’t take it personally,” Jungkook orders, noticing the defeated slump in your shoulders. “She’s always like this with new people.”

Seulgi had warned you that Yul would take a while to come around. Hopefully, it’ll happen organically. But for now, a little gift or two wouldn’t hurt your efforts, you supposed last night while running errands. Reaching into your purse, you pull out a bottle of non-toxic, baby-friendly nail polish. “Yul, look what I have!”

“Wow,” Jungkook plays along, gently nudging her head out of his neck. “Bunny, look!”

He calls her Bunny? 

You’re in for it now. 

Plump fingers wrap around the plastic, taking it out of your own with an awe-stricken stare. She holds it up right in front of Jungkook’s nose. “Pink.”

“Mhm, that’s right,” he confirms, pecking her temple. “Now, Daddy has to get back to work. Can you stay with __ for a bit?”

She looks at him, then at you, then at him again, then back at you, and finally, landing on the nail polish, giving her father a reluctant nod. You knew it would come in handy. Despite her agreeance, Yul still stretches the neck of his shirt with her tiny fists as she’s transferred into your arms. 

Somehow, you managed to survive that painfully awkward encounter…

Only to be thrown into another one immediately after. 

See, you’ve always known Yul was a daddy’s girl. On good days, the toddler would grab you by the hand and guide you around the house, giving you a tour of everything that belonged to her father. His shoes at the door. His coat on the hook. Even taking you into the bathroom to show you his shampoo bottle. But that fact was never more apparent than now, as Yul stands in the middle of the living room on the verge of tears.

“Daddy?”

“He’s working, sweetheart. Remember?” You coo on your knees in front of her. You’re quick to redirect her. “I like your shoes.”

The sniffles stop as she glances down at her white sneakers. “Mine…” she takes a hesitant step back, mistaking your compliment as an attempt to swindle her out of them. 

“That’s right,” you laugh, “they’re so pretty, just like you.”

She blinks at you for a moment, and then begins stomping her little foot: heel first. When she’s finally able to kick off her left shoe, she bends all the way over, pressing her palms flat against the hardwood floor. It’s the most uncoordinated way you’ve ever seen anyone pick something up. 

Without warning, Yul throws the shoe across the room. Well, that had been her intention, you assume. She had cocked her arm back too far and released too early, making it land behind her. 

Oh no, she hates you. 

With an excited grunt and a bounce, Yul points to the sneaker—its clear sole sparkling pink and purple.

“Oh,” you sigh in relief. “They light up?” 

“Yesh.” Plopping right onto her butt, she takes the other one off, repeating the process. “Like this!” Her arms stretch out and she clenches her two little front teeth, executing the most stellar charade of a light you’ve ever seen. 

It’s a small breakthrough, but you’ll take it. 

Then you paint her nails, just like you said you would. She’s as patient as a toddler could be, but her tiny toe keeps curling under the tickle of the brush, making pink polish bleed outside of the lines. 

“My goodness,” you groan, admiring the messy, albeit adorable, result. “You’re so cute! Wait until your dad sees you.” 

Yul shrieks wildly, smacking both hands over her mouth as she hobbles to her feet. You watch with confused giggles as the milk-drunk baby stumbles down the corridor. You figure out where she's going too late. 

Yul stands on her tippy toes, jumping to click open the door to Jungkook’s office with a loud creak. 

“Yul!” You whisper-shout. “Don’t-”

“Daddy!” She calls, stepping a single foot into the room, showing off the fresh paint job. “So cute!” 

Literally, your only job today was to keep Yul preoccupied while Jungkook worked, and you failed. Your breath catches in your throat, awaiting his response. 

“So pretty,” he gasps, “now go play, baby. I’m almost done.” 

A relieved exhale flies past your lips. 

Something you’ve picked up on from years of babysitting is that little girls aren’t allowed to compliment themselves. They’re always told it’s rude or conceited. Jungkook does neither, and you find that so refreshing. 

“Close the door, please,” he orders before she runs away, “gently.” Yul does her very best to shut the door quietly and then sprints back to you. 

The next few hours go smoothly. You discovered that the green-hating toddler has an affinity for avocados after giving her a bite of your toast. “Mmm!” She had hummed, looking at you with wide eyes. With a full belly and squishmallow in hand, Yul went out like a light for her afternoon nap, giving you time to catch up on some reading. 

“How was she?” You didn’t even hear him come out of his office, so the deep voice makes you jump, eyes tracking the sound. He’s leaning against a kitchen counter, one tattooed hand stuffed in his pocket and the other wrapped around a water bottle. It’s a thick one too, and his fingers still touch. 

“Better,” you cough, “she’s sleeping now.”

He hums halfheartedly, dark irises boring into you as he takes a sip. Without Yul to soften the edges, Jungkook is… intimidating, to say the least. “What are you reading?”

“The Catcher in the Rye…” you peep, quickly closing it. “I know, it’s kinda lame.”

“No, not lame at all. Anyone who thinks that is lying to themselves… or is just being a contrarian.” He leans his elbows against the dark granite island, fingers crossing as he stares at you. You’re sitting idle across the room, but his presence looms over you. He has this way of making you feel like he’s in your head, listening to everything you’re thinking. 

You pray he’s not. If he is, you'll definitely be fired. 

“I can’t tell which one you are yet.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but the ‘yet’ makes you come clean, shifting in your spot on the leather couch. “... Both.”

“Right,” he smirks, tongue fiddling with his lip ring, almost like he’s taunting you. “That’s one of my favorite books, actually. I relate to it in many ways.”

Your fingers dance across the red cover, concealing hundreds of pages of isolation, emptiness, and the heavy dread of passing time. What an awful thing to relate to. Sometimes, when you get too engrossed in the text, glimmers of yourself bleed within the lines too. 

“You’re an English major, right?”

“Oh, um, I’m not in school at the moment… I just read for fun.”

“Well, you have an Associate’s degree.” Him knowing that information about you makes you think he asked the previous question with the intention of baiting you into this conversation. “Why not get your Bachelor’s?”

“I don’t know. It’s… complicated.” 

Why is he interrogating you? What does he want? For you to confess that the fear of becoming a full-fledged adult makes you not want to go back to college? 

“Life is complicated. You’d be ridiculous to not go back.” The audacity should make you mad, but he speaks with so much authority that you’re dumbfounded. His head tilts, eyes squinting as they shift to the ceiling, debating something. His tongue clicks when he finally makes his decision. “Follow me; I have something I want to show you.” 

With the curl of two thick fingers, Jungkook calls you to follow him down the hallway. You blink for a moment, gushing at the suggestive motion of his hand. Shaking your head at the evil, intrusive thought, you rise to your feet. 

Just like a child, you have to skip to catch up to his long strides. Your gaze trails along white walls; there are pictures of him and Yul, Yul and Seulgi, but not a single one of them all together. 

Now that you think about it, any affection you’ve ever seen in the household was reserved for Yul and Yul only. Seems like trouble in paradise…

You shouldn’t speculate.

The heavy wooden door creaks as Jungkook holds it open for you. You’re not sure what you expected his room to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. The rest of the house is pretty modern, consisting of sleek blacks, whites, and woods. Countertops designed with icy swirled marble. Everything has this cold, impersonal vibe, but this room is the total opposite. The walls are baby blue, decorated top to bottom with dreamy clouds. You spot a chubby yellow star peeking out from underneath one of them, adorned with a hand-painted smiley face. On his nightstand, there’s a pastel purple foldable record player. Standing behind it is a single vinyl: Beautiful Boy by John Lennon. 

“Since you like to read,” Jungkook coughs, turning your attention to a sleek bookcase, stuffed to the brim with hundreds of titles you’ve never even heard of. “I figured you’d appreciate my collection.”

“Yeah, it’s…” The words trail off as you step forward. On a whim, your finger extends, tracing the delicate spine of a well-loved book. A low chuckle brings you back to reality; you peep, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you yank your hand away. “It’s… really cool.”

“You can borrow something if you’d like. Does anything catch your eye?” Plopping down onto the computer chair, Jungkook rummages through his desk drawer and pulls out a tiny black case. You didn’t even know he wore glasses, and when he nudges them comfily onto the bridge of his nose, you nearly melt. As if he could get any more attractive.

“N-No,” you stutter as he wheels closer. Even though you’re towering over him, you still feel so small in his presence. You pray to God he can’t sense how incredibly nervous he makes you. “Not really.” 

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, you know,” he hums, low and sly. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No!” You peep in shock. Is the man a fucking mindreader? 

“Right.” Jungkook peers over the rim of his lenses, dark eyes glimmering in the whimsical glow of the room. “So __, what do you want to be?”

“A teacher,” you say, playing with your fingers.

“My wife wanted to be a teacher, too.” He shoots you the softest, gentlest smile. “She ended up doing business instead.” 

“Why?” You ask, gnawing on your bottom lip. You don’t mean to pry, but this is the first time you’ve ever actually talked to him in a meaningful way. Something about him intrigues you, like a puzzle you’re determined to find all the pieces to. 

“Ah, well,” he sighs, inked fingers scratching at the back of his neck. “We figured it’d be best for our family if we both pursued more lucrative career paths. I switched my major from English to finance.” You light up at the confession, the similarity putting you at ease. “I’m sorry if I was abrasive earlier,” he frowns, “I settled down young and had to sacrifice a lot, so I encourage you to go for something that fulfills you.” With his elbows on his knees, he leans closer to you. “I think you’d be a fantastic teacher. You take care of my daughter well.”

“Thank you,” you peep, cheeks heating up at the compliment. “I mean… you didn’t have Yul that young.” He tried to comfort you, so it’s only fair you do the same, right? “I think your late twenties are a great time to have children.”

Almost immediately, his face drops, eyes glazing over with something so raw. So… longing. You’ve never seen anything like it before. The corners of his nose twitch before he composes himself. “Yeah, I suppose they are.” His pink tongue toys with his lip ring, swiftly changing the subject. “You seem surprised.” 

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting all this.” 

“Expecting what?” 

“I don’t know,” you laugh clumsily, “books.” You mentally curse yourself as soon as the answer comes out. Really, __? Books? 

“What?” He starts, raising a brow at you. “You thought I couldn’t read?”

Thankfully, Jungkook takes your comment playfully. 

“Maybe,” you respond in the same lighthearted manner, feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence, “I also didn’t expect your room to look like a little boy’s room.”

All of the cheerfulness in the air evaporates as Jungkook glares at you with a clenched jaw and flared nostrils. Cleary irate. You’ve triggered a landmine.

“Jungkook, I’m-”

“Stop talking.” He raises a hand, cutting you off before you finish the sentence. Turning his back to you, he wheels over to his desk. “You can leave. You’re done for the day.” 

Looking back, you know why he was so upset that day. You had put the puzzle pieces together a while ago. You’re unsure of the details, and asking for them feels wrong. Silence feels wrong, too, though. Until now, you’ve never dared to speak up. 

You have no idea how to navigate something of this magnitude, but you just want him to know that you’re here. That you’re trying.

Cautiously, with your hand still on the tattoo, you whisper: “He must’ve been so beautiful, Jungkook…”

The thumb that had been drawing soft shapes into your side comes to an eerie pause as he freezes under you. When you look at him, your heart shatters. His chin is caved in with little dents, eyes glazed over with so much emotion. You’ve never seen a human being look so broken.

“Get off me.”

You frown at the shift in his demeanor. “Why?”

Remaining tight-lipped, Jungkook physically removes you from his lap, dumping you onto the seat next to him.

“Why can’t we ever talk about anything serious?”

He remains quiet as he slides his underwear up, not sparing you a single glance. When he speaks, his tone is painfully detached. “Like what?”

“Like what you said,” you answer curtly. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Shaking his head with a cynical chuckle, he begins buttoning his pants, pretending you don’t exist. Like you’re not right beside him, falling to pieces. 

Your eyes dart to the ceiling, lashes fluttering rapidly as you mull over what to say next. You guess now would be an appropriate time to ask him what you’ve wanted for weeks. Blinking does nothing to combat your unshed tears when you realize that his answer has the potential to destroy everything you’ve been dreaming about. Everything you’ve hoped for. “When are you going to leave her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous, Jungkook!” Shaking your head furiously, you feel the first hints of anger in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “I’m not! I see the way you look at me!”

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen? Huh?” Finally, he’s paying attention to you, just not in the way you hoped. His face is beet red as he leans closer. “Don’t tell me you actually thought we were going to end up together, __. Seriously? You’re my babysitter! You’re seven years younger than me! This isn’t some fucking fairytale; it’s life! There’s no such thing as happily-ever-afters—grow up and stop acting like a damn child!”

“No, Jungkook,” you croak, fully sobbing as you push an angry finger into his chest. “You’re the one who’s acting childish! I may not be the most mature person, but at least I know how to accept love!”

“So let’s say I divorce my wife, then what? Huh?” He seethes. “I get partial custody? I only see Yul on weekends? Every other week? She grows up in a broken home? I refuse to ruin my daughter’s life like that.”

You take a shaky breath, eyes shifting to the car floor, the air fresher on his mirror, the window. Anywhere but him. The way Jungkook explains your make-believe future together is nothing how you envisioned it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s just a fucking asshole. Neither thought process eases the pain.

“But you’re okay with ruining mine?”

For a moment, his features soften, and you see a glimmer of guilt wash over him. It fizzles out just as fast as it came. “You’re being dramatic.” Jungkook steps outside, tucking his shirt into his pants. “Get dressed.” 

With jittery hands and blurry eyes, you grab your discarded lace bra, the one you had bought just for tonight, and slide it on your shoulders. When you pick your shirt up, you see that it’s ripped and tattered. Completely destroyed. 

“Here,” Jungkook mumbles, tossing you his blazer as he watches you in the rearview. 

Once you’re dressed, you awkwardly slide into the passenger seat. The scent of his cologne makes your head pound and your stomach flip. 

“I want to go home.”

His lips part, preparing to persuade you otherwise. The hotel room he booked is ready and waiting, just as it is every Friday. He decides against it, simply murmuring an ‘okay’ before putting the keys in the ignition and starting the engine. 

“Do you want to get something to eat before I drop you off?” 

You just want your dad. 

“I just want to go home.”

Other than the whoosh of splashing puddles and your soft sniffles, the ride to your house is painfully silent. Leaning your head against the window, you watch the moon. For miles and miles, it never changes. It’s stagnant, frozen in time, surrounded by nothing but endless blackness. 

“Stop crying! I can’t stand it anymore!” Jungkook shouts, hitting the steering wheel with his open palm, finally growing uncomfortable from your non-stop tears. The sudden outburst makes you flinch. Sighing heavily, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Just… stop crying, please.”

You sink further into your seat, curling your lips into your mouth to suppress a sob.

“I’m not worth your tears, __.”

You feel nothing but relief when he finally turns onto your street, stopping all the way at the end, concealed by the night and the shadows of overhanging trees. 

“Am I picking you up next Friday?” He asks just before you leave. 

With raw cheeks and a scowl, you slam the door in his face. 

Your feet are so heavy that the sidewalk sinks under you like quicksand. No matter how many steps you take, the comfort of your house seems out of reach. Too far gone. Confusion weighs on your shoulders. You should feel proud, empowered even, but that voice in the back of your mind smothers any sense of relief. 

Deep down, you know this isn’t going to be the last weekend you spend with Jungkook. 

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[giorno-plays-piano]

Her Fault

Pairing: yandere!Toji Fushiguro x reader

Warnings: implied noncon, spiked drink, stalking, kidnapping, obsession, mention of Stockholm syndrome, Toji being a part of a gang.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Toji knows nearly everything about her. Who she is, where she works, what's her address, where she keeps her keys, the code to unlock her phone... Except for the last two things, he didn't even need to have someone to spy on her because she told him everything herself. Somehow, she felt like she could trust him, poor girl. He appreciates her lapse in judgment.

_________

"You should try something new for a change," Toji says with that smug expression on his face, making the woman next to him frown. "No offense, but those pathetic margaritas will be the end of you one day."

For a second, she looks stunned by his audacity, but it doesn't take her long to bite back at him, "Says who? The I-only-drink-whisky guy?"

He lets out a laugh at that, shaking his head. "Fair enough. How about we both try a new thing?"

As she stills, contemplating his offer, he already knows he'll win. She will order whatever he tells her to, and she will drink it like a good girl, not being able to tell the difference between the real drink and whatever concoction he will give her. Wouldn't work with a margarita she's been ordering ever since she appeared here one Friday evening.

He first saw her about half a year ago, wearing a fancy black dress and high heels like she was at the gala, not a local bar. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, and she wore that classy sort of makeup that suggested she was either at the wrong place or came here straight after work for god knows what reasons. Toji had no idea why she would show up at this bar dressed that way. Did she want to get laid and didn't know how?

The guy sitting next to her at the counter probably arrived at the same conclusion but dumbly decided to chase after her in the most stupid fashion, giving Toji an excuse to send him "I-will fucking-end-you" look and flex his biceps: girls digged that shit, and he was sure she'd take the bait. Naturally, the drunk dumbass left in a second while the woman looked impressed and thanked him for help. It was only natural to strike a conversation.

Pretty much first time going to a bar, she confessed, ordering a margarita. Why? She was a workaholic and, in addition, despised drunk people who couldn't control themselves. Why did she finally come? Wanted to find out what it's like since one drink couldn't hurt that much.

He thought she smelled really fucking nice.

Surprisingly, he didn't bang her the first night because she had a way with words that made him talk more than he usually did, and, by the time she was about to leave, he didn't feel like spoiling her first bar experience. She was probably going to return, anyway. Besides, Toji didn't like feeling so much at ease with a stranger, given the specifics of his work, so he was going to ring someone he knew to do a quick check-up on her and make sure that evening wasn't some elaborately planned scheme. God help her if it was.

But she was just an ordinary woman with an ordinary job with no relation to his business, so when she came the next Friday, Toji thought it was fucking nice to actually talk to someone for once. Why not? She wasn't even looking for a hookup, just for a human company.

That time, she wore a lovely dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, too, but she wasn't flirting with him even the slighest bit. He wasn't sure if he should have been offended by her lack of interest or felt good because she wanted to actually know him.

Since then, every Friday, she waltzes into the bar in her pretty dresses, smelling delicious, lands on the seat next to him, and talks to him like he's a friend. Not once has she batted her eyelashes at him or realized he was flaunting his physique one way or the other to flirt with her. She does, however, seem interested in how he's doing without being invasive or patronal, and it's been a really long time since anyone was that close to him. It genuinely feels good to see her face every Friday and hear her voice.

Toji knows nearly everything about her. Who she is, where she works, what's her address, where she slips her keys, the code to unlock her phone... Except for the last two things, he didn't even need to have someone to spy on her because she told him everything herself. Somehow, she felt like she could trust him, poor girl. He appreciates her lapse in judgment.

"Does that guy from work still bother you?" he asks, giving the barmen a sign to make that cocktail for her and looking back at her as if he really needs an answer. In reality, he already knows she has rejected the creep, and it pleases him to no end.

"No, thank God," she huffs, wincing like from a toothache. "Why the Hell do I attract all sorts of assholes? My own damn father has been an ass to me, too."

"Huh, your father?" Toji sends her a smirk. "Got daddy issues?

He can tell her face is burning even without looking at her expression.

"Oh my God, Toji!" She slaps his hand slightly, embarrassed and annoyed at his antics. "Why are you saying it like we're in a porno?"

That gets a good laugh out of him, and she visibly relaxes, smiling, before she promptly excuses herself to the bathroom, and the barmen finally lands her drink on the counter, secretly nodding to the man on the other side. There's nothing really dangerous in there that wouldn't get out of her system in a day, but that's enough time for Toji to finish everything he has planned.

Really, it's her fault for being naive and so fucking pretty. He could have already fucked her ages ago and forgotten all about the woman, but she just has to be too damn nice for her own good, making him long for Friday night and hear her talk. Besides, what is he supposed to do when she doesn't date and doesn't see even his most obvious attempts to flirt with her? He takes the easiest way out, really.

The drugs in her drink will make her pliant like a kitten, but, considering it's her third cocktail, it'll be a piece of cake to make her believe she just got drunk and ended up sleeping with him. Then he'll explain how she confessed to him and mention he likes her too. Depending on how it goes, Toji's prepared for 2 different outcomes: one, she accepts, and they start dating before he makes his next move; two, he chains her to his bed and waits till the Stockholm syndrome or whatever this thing's called kicks in and rewires her brain. Logically speaking, he prefers the first one, but his patience is wearing thin, and now he contemplates if he should just go with the second plan, anyway.

When she comes back, her delicious scent making him hard again, Toji sends her a smug smile and hands her the glass. Whatever she does, he knows where she'll end up after tonight.

__________

Tags: @minshookie29

[sebscore]

hi ! I love your gen z driver series so much !!

i have a request that she and zhou show up to the padock in the same outfit unplanned

like i feel this would happen - they both fancy showing up in something so different and the other would be wearing the same thing !! <3 fashion icons think the same 😌

THE HELMET BET

pairings: zhou guanyu x driver!reader / f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: swearing. based on the 2022 grid. mention of sexism and racism. joke about doing an orgy.

author's note: idk if this is what you had in mind, but I had already written a small part of this fic and then your ask came in and I couldn't help myself. I love zhou so much, ugh thats my man fr. also, thank you for loving the series, it means a lot to me 💞

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''We're gonna get in trouble.'' Zhou said, shaking his head. 

Y/N frowned at his words. ''Why would we get in trouble? It's always super boring and our bet can at least spice it up a little.'' She reasoned, using a lot of hand gestures to show how serious she was. 

''You know those meetings are about our safety, right? We should take them serious.'' The Chinese driver didn't want to get in hot water with the stewards. 

''But this is a serious matter! We're putting an end to the debate,'' she retorted back, not seeing the harm in using the upcoming driver's briefing for their bet, ''lately, I've been seeing way too many people saying you've got better style than me and I've had enough of it.'' 

The female driver had seen the countless online discussions between fans regarding the most stylish driver on the grid, the winner usually switching between herself, Lewis and Zhou. In her opinion, Lewis had the best style, she didn't need to think twice about it. But it is important for her to know who his successor is, who is the number 2? 

To answer that question, she had come up with a brilliant idea: her and Zhou wear their best outfit to the next driver's briefing, not some team merchandising, and they get the other drivers to vote on which outfit is the best and therefore, which person has the best style. The person with the most votes gets to design a helmet for the loser and they have to wear it at the next racing weekend. 

''Okay, I'm in,'' Zhou admitted, shaking hands to commemorate the challenge, ''be prepared to lose, Y/N.'' 

''Don't worry about me, Guanyu.'' 

Y/N was confident in her win. The young woman knows she has style, her several brand deals with high-respected fashion houses being the proof of that. However, she knew not to underestimate her rookie friend, Zhou has had some killer outfits in the ongoing season. 

They had known each other for some years, but it was only this year that the pair had gotten close. Y/N broke the ice by complimenting one of his outfits at the start of the season and the rest was history. 

The outfit she had gone with was simple, but she looked good and she felt great in it. It was inspired by one of Michael Schumacher's paddock outfits (reference), knowing she would at least have Mick and Seb's vote with that one. 

Y/N got out of her car, ready to make her way to the F1 paddock and straight to the driver's briefing. In the corner of her eye she noticed Zhou's car pull up, his performance coach waving at her through the window. She reciprocated the action and decided to wait for him, thinking it would be nice for the two of them to enter together. She was curious as to what her friend would be wearing, secretly hoping he had fumbled the bag really hard. 

Her hopes came crashing down as Zhou got out of the car, observing the clothes he was wearing and noticing one clear detail. 

They were wearing the same outfit. 

Her eyes seemed ready to bulge out of her head, in complete disbelief. ''Are you fucking kidding me, Zhou?'' 

The Chinese man appeared to be much more amused by the situation, covering his laughter with his hand. ''You look very nice, Y/N.'' He giggled, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

''It's turned into a ''who wears it better'' challenge, what the heck.'' She commented, eyeing him up and down before glancing at her own fit. 

Zhou chuckled. ''Well either way, I'm winning.'' A small smirk appeared on his face, still sure of his win over his friend. Y/N simply scoffed, grabbing her pass from her purse and walking to the entrance. Zhou and his coach followed her steps, still entertained by her annoyance. 

As soon as the paddock reporters noticed the sight of the two drivers, their cameras were whipped out from their bags and they began taking candid shots of the pair. Zhou and Y/N played along for the cameras, pointing at each other's outfits and pretending to look annoyed. 

Eventually they made it to the right room, already seeing most of the drivers waiting inside. Zhou went in and greeted the others, while Y/N waited outside, ready to lock the door as soon as everyone had arrived and was inside. 

Lando had been the last one to walk down the hallway. ''Hurry up, Norris!'' She exclaimed, her hand motioning for him to pick up the pace. 

''Why? I'm on time.'' He replied a bit agitated, it was a bit too early in the morning for him to be scolded by his friend. 

Y/N didn't respond to him, simply pushing him into the room and locking the door, making several drivers look up from where they were sitting or standing. 

''Y/N, what are you doing?'' Sebastian spoke up, curious as to what she was up to this time. 

The young woman urged Zhou to get up from his seat and to stand next to her. The man felt a bit embarrassed, but followed her orders. Y/N stood in the place where their director normally sat when he answered the drivers' questions or listened to their concerns. She placed both her hands on the desk, looking like a teacher that was about to scold her students.

''As we all know, Mr. Hamilton over there is widely accepted as the driver with the best style,'' she pointed at Lewis, who nervously smiled as the other drivers glanced at him, ''but that's not why we are gathered here today! We are gathered here today to decide who his successor is. Who is the most stylish person after Lewis? That's a question that we will settle once and for all, here, now, in this room.'' She finished her monologue. 

''Me and Mr. Guanyu found ourselves in a battle for the title of second most stylish driver of the grid, so I challenged him. We would wear our best outfits today and have our lovely colleagues vote for who had the best one. But as you all can see, me and Mr. Dior over here, are wearing the same exact fit.'' Y/N waved her hand between herself and Zhou. 

''So, instead of you deciding who is wearing the best outfit, you'll be voting for the person you think is wearing the outfit best.'' She concluded. 

The crowd had mixed reactions: some looked confused, some seemed entertained by what Y/N had told them and others appeared to not care. 

Kevin was the first one to speak, getting up from his seat and walking towards the door. ''Y/N, this is not the time to do this, we're here to talk about the race.'' He was about to turn the lock when her voice stopped him. 

''Magnussen, you're being a party pooper- do you want to be a party pooper?'' She looked at him sternly, trying to convince him to sit back down and go along with her antics. ''Don't pretend like you're not secretly enjoying this.'' The Haas driver rolled his eyes, but defeatedly put his arms up and went back to his seat. 

''Alright, we'll go around the room and each person says either my name or Zhou's.'' She explained further, moving in front of the desk. 

Checo's hand went up in the air. ''Can we also pass?'' He asked, looking at Y/N. 

''If you refuse to choose, we will consider it sexist and racist as I am a woman and Zhou's Asian.'' She answered him, garnering chuckles around the room and a nervous-looking Zhou who hoped people took it as a joke, since he didn't want to be making enemies as a rookie. 

Y/N clapped her hands together. ''Okay, we'll start with our party pooper, KMag! Me or Zhou?'' 

''Zhou, since he didn't yell at me and didn't call me a party pooper.'' He chose, making the female driver narrow her eyes at him. ''Alright, 1 for Zhou.'' 

The person sat next to Kevin was his teammate, Mick. ''Schumacher!'' He was about to speak, but the woman interrupted him. ''Before you choose, I took inspiration from one of your dad's outfits.'' Y/N tried influencing his decision. 

''I was gonna choose you anyway.'' He told her, making her jump up as her and Zhou had an equal score. ''Thank you, Mickie.'' She smiled brightly at him. 

''Valtteri?'' 

''I choose Zhou, I'm loyal to my teammate.'' He answered, smiling at the man in question. 

''Lando?'' 

''Zhou, because he doesn't humiliate me in front of the entire internet.'' The McLaren driver said, referring to their regular back-and-forths on social media. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. ''You're such a crybaby, Rumplestiltskin.'' Her words caused Lando to give her the middle finger, but it was all in good fun. 

''Anyway, Daniel?'' 

The Australian pretended to think hard about his answer, looking in-between her and Zhou. ''I'm gonna go with Y/N, cause I'm kinda scared what she'll do to me if I don't choose her.'' His answer got a laugh out of the other drivers, some of them nodding their heads. 

Y/N herself couldn't help but break a smile at Daniel's words, happy her friend had chosen her. ''Okay, next one.'' 

The voting was nearing its end and there was a tie, 9 people had chosen Zhou and 9 others had voted for Y/N. It all came down to one person. 

Sir Lewis Hamilton. 

Despite some of the drivers' dislike for the bet at the beginning of the meeting, everyone had gotten pretty invested. ''The maestro himself has to choose his next prodigy.'' Daniel joked, looking at the 7x world champion. 

Lewis shifted in his seat, not too fond of having the last vote on the matter. ''Can't I just say both of you? The two of you look very good.'' 

''No, mate! You have to choose.'' George argued, the others agreeing with him. 

Y/N was quite sure that Lewis would choose her. She was much closer to him than Zhou and the pair had talked about fashion before, discussing how it was a great way to express yourself. She was already designing Zhou's helmet in her mind. 

''Well, then… I guess Zhou.'' 

Her mouth dropped open, shocked that the senior driver had chosen the rookie over her. She wasn't the only one that seemed surprised by his choice, Seb turned around in his seat and Pierre's eyes had widened, mouthing ''wow''. 

The young man next to her, lightly slapped her arm. ''I'll send the design to your team next week, Y/N.'' He teasingly laughed, a big smirk present on his face. 

''This is a joke, right? I can't be number 3!'' She dramatically stated. 

''Hey! What's wrong with being the number 3?'' Daniel looked up, feigning being offended by her words. 

She was about to give another monologue about betrayal and how men are all the same, but several loud knocks on the door interrupted that from happening. Y/N sighed, but took a few steps to turn the lock. 

Their director didn't look too happy. ''Why was the door locked?'' 

''We were having an orgy.'' She sarcastically answered him, not planning on explaining to him why she had blocked the door from opening. 

''Y/N!'' 

The actual driver's briefing began and soon enough most drivers were already dozing off, some of them even wishing Y/N and Zhou's bet had taken a bit longer. They wouldn't admit it to the young woman, but ever since she'd made her arrival to these briefings, her unserious antics had made them much more bearable. Some drivers had even started looking forward to the meetings, because the girl always had something up her sleeve. 

As soon as the last issue was resolved, the meeting ended and everyone was out the door. When Zhou saw Y/N talking with Mick and Esteban, he swiftly moved next to Lewis. ''Hey, man,'' he patted the Brit's shoulder, ''thanks for that, I really appreciate it.'' 

''No problem,'' Lewis smiled, ''we made a deal, I'm keeping my word.'' 

Zhou nodded. ''Yeah, you vote for me and I let you help me design her helmet.'' He recalled the promise they had made a day earlier. 

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

[denofbloodandlove]

First Timer

Mandi looked at the store like some giant looming beast that she had to battle, never had she been to a sex shop and for good reason. The moment she even thought about sex her face flamed with heat, she was technically embarrassed.  Not because of the act of sex, but because of what she enjoyed watching.  Being only 21 and still a stupid virgin she had, one night, fell down a rabbit hole of aliens, tentacles, and ovipositors.  They only person in the whole world that knew was her best friend JJ, who was as gay and happy as a bag of sunshine and rainbows but also the biggest slut that Mandi knew.   He was the reason they were here at a place called OtherWorlds, a boutique for the weird and unusual.  But according to the website that JJ found, totally normal for people like her.  People who enjoyed the idea of monsters, suckers and knots filling up their bodies. JJ had wanted Mandi to be herself so, like a great best friend searched the world wide web and found this little nugget.  Forced her in the car and drove the three hours it took to show up.   “For fucks sake Mandi, walk in, it’s a sex shop not a fucking scorpion.  Which, by the by, I think they have dildos that resemble the tail.  Lets go!” JJ pushed Mandi over the curb and straight at the door.  The tiny bell jingled as the door opened and Mandi stood frozen at the sight.  JJ however ran right in and began looking. “Come on Mandi! It’s time you experiment!” He giggled as he held up a huge wiggly horse cock.  Covering her face with her hands, Mandi shuffled her way towards JJ.  “Would you stop that!” She whispered as JJ started to flick his wrist, making the soft cock go round in circles.  “I think I need one of these for me girlie!  Man this would feel great shoved in my ass!.” JJ exclaimed as a worker made their over with a grin on her face.   “First time huh?  We can always tell, either too shy or too excited. How can I help you guys? Looking for anything in particular?”   Mandi began to shake her head, but JJ being who he was cut her off.  “Yes, she needs tentacles.  Ovipositors with the eggs that come with.  A medium to large probably since she is……unused shall I say.”  “Oh gods above JJ, really?! Tell everyone that I’ve never had sex why don’t you, jeez.” Mandi buried her face in her hands as JJ laughed, but the woman just smiled and took hold of Mandi.  “I have the perfect stuff, come on.  Most people come in here like this, first timers, shy because of what they like but its no biggie.”  As Mandi followed the lady she looked on the walls.  Dildos of massive sizes were displayed, some had giant heads with long thin bodies while some were reversed, had a slender head but a massive shaft. Some were so large it looked like it would split her in half.  Gulping down what she knew was excitement she kept walking.  How could she be excited about her feeling like she would be getting cut in two?  Another section housed more horse cocks, small ones, medium, massive ones that looked like when fully inserted it could reach her throat.  Near the horse cocks, were wolves.  These too were in various sizes but they had knots as the bases.  Some had multiple knots throughout the shaft, going from regular at the head, knot, shaft, bigger knot, shaft, and even bigger knot.  Wouldn’t a person get stuck on that?   How would her cunt feel so stretched out that she would literally be stuck on a cock. Mandi felt sweat trickle down her back at the thought.   “You know I can tell what you’re thinking buy the looks on your face, you don’t hide your facial expressions well.  My name is Nimmie, and yes the wolf cocks do feel amazing stuck inside of you.  Too big to slide out but to big to push further in.  Your pussy trapped on an immovable object, trust me, its worth it. Worth the pain. The dragon cocks are much the same without the knots.”  Nimmie pointed towards a display case that housed a pleothra of muticolored dildos.  Some were short and fat while others had what looked like scales in different layers to add a whole new feeling as it pushed against the walls of a pussy or ass. “But these are what you’re after. Yes?” Mandi looked over her shoulder as Nimmie pointed to a blue/black wall.  Her mouth popped open as she saw so many different kinds of tentacle dildos. S-curved that ended in a point, short stubby ones that had a bulbous head, each one had different sized suckers on it, mimicking a real octopus.   “But, I think your friend mentioned ovis, you’re more interested in the eggs and the feeling of them inside you, right?  I’ve used one, fuck it was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.  But that was our old stock we got some brand new ones no one has ever tried.  They look amazing.  Here.” Nimmie reached down and under a self, pulling out what looked like long slender tube with a short flat head on top.  It was a dark mossy green that faded into yellow at the tip.  Reading the package her eyes widened at the size.  Nearly nine inches in length  and at the widest nearly two inches at the base.  But what intrigued her more was the carton that was attached to the underside of the plastic container that held the cock.  “Its eggs! Look! Turn in over, each one is in their own cum, to give you that real effect.  So what you do, theres twelve by the way.  So what you do is you have to place the cock on the floor and through the opening at the tip of the cock, you just insert the eggs, push them all down and have your fun. As you fuck it, see the little button, you push that and the didlo will start to undulate and push the eggs into you, all that cum and eggs filling your cunt up.  When you’re done, pop off and push the eggs out, and repeat as many times as you want.  The cum, its some kind of new material that doesn’t wash away, like an egg sack thing. I dunno, but I can’t wait to try it myself..” Mandi turned the package over looking it over and listening to Nimmie talk about it.  Fuck, but she was wet just imagining it.  She had watched a porn with this woman who had something similar. The eggs had fallen out of her swollen cunt, falling to the ground in pleasurable ‘plops’.  She wondered if they would sound the same falling out of her.  And could she take all twelve at once? Mandi ran her hands over the eggs, thinking about where she could place it and fuck it. That was the moment JJ ran up to her, his arms filled with lube and cocks.  “Get me outta here girlie before I go broke.  You found something?” Nodding her head, she hid the ovi behind her and together they walked to the register.   ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “I know you got that egg thing girlie, call me after and tell me ALL about it! I for one am going shove these beautiful things up my ass.”  JJ kissed Mandi on each cheek and left her standing at her door with the black bag in her hand.  Excitement rode her.  Mandi could feel her slick cunt, needy and ready to take in her first dildo.  The apex of her thighs felt heavy with need yet hollow.  It was like a low ache, one that was almost painful right behind her entrance.  She could almost feel her own heartbeat in her pussy, each thump of her heart knocking at her tight entrance.  Placing her phone down, she hit record and then began to undress.  Throwing off her clothes, she knelt on the floor and positioned herself so she could watch her body take in the cock.  Once everything was lined up correctly, she opened the plastic package with trembling fingers.  The cock itself was soft and malleable, but at the thick base she could feel beads that would rotate upwards, she figured those were how the eggs would get pushed up and into her pussy.  Next she opened the eggs.  Sighing, Mandi reverently grabbed the first one.  Nimmie was right, it felt as if the egg was encased in the same slime like substance a chicken egg was surrounded by.  The clear like slime wiggled between her fingers as it slipped from her grip into palm after palm, her hands rotating to constantly catch it.  Biting her bottom lip, Mandi held it to her face and it roll against her cheek.  It felt so warm, almost as if the crate it was in kept them a certain temperature. Before she could think better of it, Mandi popped it into her mouth.  The gel like casing rolled on her tongue and nearly down her throat.  But the taste.  It was like an aphrodisiac straight to her pussy.  Juices flowed and coated her thighs as she leaned her head back and moaned, rolling the egg on her tongue and nearly down her throat. Gagging she coughed the egg up and into her hand.  She’d definitely  have to practice more on how to hold that in her mouth, maybe with the cock fucking her throat too.  Mandi fingered the cocks opening and watched as the egg slide down and into the tube where the other 11 quickly followed.   Taking a deep breath, Mandi ran her fingers through her swollen pussy, her clit was so enlarged it hurt, her fingers rubbed hard on her clit, eliciting a long low moan from her throat, then she squatted over the cock.  Her back was against a wall and with wide eyes she watched herself slowly get impaled on the camera of her phone.   Her tight pussy pushed against the head of the cock, opening her pushing against her maiden head.  She watched in fascination as her cunt spread, allowing a foreign object to be inserted, thankfully the cock wasn’t giant at the tip, but she could feel the resistance of her flesh, pushing back, not wanting anything to push past her barrier.  Her thighs burned as she lifted herself up slightly then fell back down a second time. This round pushed hard the cock breaking though and she let out a painful moan as the cock stretched her new flesh, up and down she moves, deeper and deeper her squats came as she fucked herself down nearly to the two inch base. Her pussy ached, burned as it stretched and tears welled in her eyes. It was too big!   But she thought about those wolf cocks and getting stuck, widening her stance Mandi leaned back and placed her hands on the floor and moved her hips.  Her pussy made sucking sounds as the cock moved in and out, deeper until she screamed in pain, fuck she wanted to get stuck, wanted this foreign cock with its eggs to seal her pussy as the eggs pumped into her.     Tears gathered in her eyes as she moved her legs farther out, her knees hit the floor with a sharp thud and she sat, forcing her pussy to sit down all the way on the cock.  Looking into her phone, she could see the skin stretched, her cunt swollen and red, her clit hard and ready for the slightest of touches to send her over the edge.  Taking a deep breath, Mandi lifted one leg and felt her way around the base, finding that button Nimmie talked about.  Pushing it down, the beads that sat at the base of the cock began to vibrate, rotate around and up.  Her cunt tightened its grip and her body jerked as she rotated her hips.  Fuck she could feel the eggs rising with the undulations of the beads.

“Fuck. Fuck, Fuck!” Mandi panted as her hand left the floor and slapped at her swollen clit in tandem.  She felt the first egg explode from the cock and straight into her, she could feel it right against her cervix, followed by another, then another.  Her hand slapped harder at her clit and as she moved she looked down at her flat belly, she watched as her skin moved, pushed out by the eggs filling her.

Her orgasm took root and she flung her head back and screamed.  Pressure like never before built low in her belly as she came.  Her hand never stopped slapping and rubbing her clit until it was too much and she lifted off the cock, her pussy releasing all her cum and juices in one great spasm.  She watched in awe as she squirted, the eggs falling out of her one by one with a wet slimy pop. One after another she watched as she forced her pussy to push the remaining eggs out, each one slowly falling to the floor.  Her pussy pulsed and her body trembled with aftershocks of the best fucking orgasm ever!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m telling you JJ I think I lost one! I have eleven eggs nit twelve! What happens if one is still inside me? What am I going to do? Go to the doctor and say hey doc by the way I fucked an alien dong, had its fake eggs shoved inside of me and now I lost one.  Can you look in my cunt and tell me what you see?”

JJ just laughed, “It probably rolled under something so stop freaking out! But look we need to go back to that store, cause girl I done used all that lube and those dildos! I’m so gaped I could fit my fist in there!” Shaking her head, she finished her conversation with JJ, thinking that he was probably right.  The eggs had come out at first so fast that she lost one.  Had to be.

That night Mandi lay curled on her side, her thoughts on sleep, her mind drifting off into nothingness, she felt a soft, wet squelch come from between her thighs.  Moaning in her sleep, her body thrashed about, wetness soaked her pussy and sheets as her legs spread by some unseen force.  Through her sleep, pain had her eyes flip open and she screamed as e cunt stretched.  Her knees bent and she rose on her elbows as she looked down her body.  One long thick tentacle slide from her cunt.  It was the same hues as the dildo, it slid from her pussy and onto her thigh, the rings of the suction cups molding to her flesh. Scrambling away, her body spasmed as the tentacle stayed stuck inside of her womb, the one long tentacle slithered off her thigh and moved up, the tip pushing through the slit of her wet core. The pointed tip flicked her clit hard enough to shock Mandi into pure pleasure.

“Ohmagod its real.  Oh fuuuck its real.” Her voice went from a high-pitched scared cadence to a low, pleasurable moan.  This is what she had fantasized about the first time she watched that damn porn.  Her fantasy becoming a reality.  The alien inside of her wiggled growing thicker, spreading her sunt much like the dildo did, stretching her to the point of pain, sealing tight.  The tip of the tentacle slide back and forth on her clit, the suction cups moving languidly over her clit, sucking and releasing each time with each suction cup.  The thick base shoved deep in her began to slither in and out, fucking her until she could no longer stand it, her orgasm tore through her body.  Her body bowed off the bed, every muscle seized in pleasure and her cum flowed from her pussy in great rushes around the tentacle. Her breathing labored she lifted her head to watch the tentacle move and slither back into her cunt, her lower belly becoming slightly pooched out where it rested in her womb.  

Would the other eleven eggs be the same? If they stayed in her would they hatch too?  How many could she keep inside of her at once?  She wanted to fond out.  Would it be like that porn?  A tentacle for every hole? Her mouth, ass and pussy all having one at the same time? Her pussy pulsed as her cum leaked from her open slit.  There was only one way to find out.  Jumping out of bed, she found the ovipositor, and began to pop the remaining eggs into the cock.  Her belly wiggled in anticipation as she positioned her phone once more, then sank low on the cock, hoping that the other eleven eggs would too take root inside of her womb.  

[obsessedduh]

genre: smutty with a plotty.

cw: implied fem reader and sub simon. reader is a bit mean dumification, sexism (reader mocks simon for being a man and being 'weak') masochism (simon), sadism (reader), simon is a crybaby. loads of f-bombs. bit of a long one and may be loads of spelling mistakes, but bare with me, y'all 😭🙏🏾

side note: i'm such a shit writer that it makes me want to cry. ughhh, like i've some people smuts, and i'm so jealous, like, i'm so shit at writing it burns 😭😭

MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

dorky!gamerboy!simon with a slutty, popular, mean roommate.

he finds her so annoying, walking around in your dorm with those stupidly tight booty shorts that show the bottom half of your ass and those annoyingly tight tank tops that you wear that has your nipples poking through the fabric of them.

it's so aggravating because you get him hard in the matter of seconds and then you make him stumble of his words or make him blush like a fucking idiot.

and ohhh, don't even get him started when you bring guys over. it's so fucking irritating trying to study or play video games with a boner and having to listen to you stupid pornagraphic moans, it's so fucking distracting!

and on top of that, when he finishes studying and thinks he can finally go to bed in peace. wrong. the familiar buzzing noise he hears through the thin walls, and your moans are enough to make him go insane. he thinks his poor cock is on its last leg because of how many times he's had to jerk off.

he bets you're doing it on purpose at this point! trying to get him all riled up. trying to drive him nuts! i mean, what other reason is there?

also, your attitude is so bad. he could be telling you to do something, and you're already telling him to piss off. then it leads to an argument and blah blah blah.

you're honestly so fucking bitchy and it gets on his nerves.

today was no different! he was playing video games as per usual until you bursted into his room. you obviously startled him but he doesn't pay attention to you. just taking off his headset and letting it rest around his neck and still continuing to play his game, "don't you know how to fucking knock!?"

"whatever. get off your stupid game, it's your turn to do the dishes."

he groans and shifts around in his chair, so it spins to look at you, "i did them yester-..." as soon as he manages to look at you straight away, his eyes widen. you're stading in his doorway wearing a red lacey bra and a matching lacey red thong.

what kind of woman does this!? standing in front of her guy roommate, half-naked!? his eyes trace all over your body, your figure, and he can't help the blood rushing down south. he gulps and shifts his hands to block the serious boner he was having right now.

"why the fuck are you staring at me like that?"

"n-nothing..."

"whatever, you gonna wash the dishes or what?"

"s-sure... j-just give me a m-moment."

"aight cool. just hurry the fuck up, dork."

you leave him be and close the door and as soon as he hears the door click. his hands are already pulling down his sweatpants and fisting his aching hard cock, moving his hand up and down at an uneven pace, so desperate to cum. your name falling out his lips and filthy images of you clouded his mind.

meanwhile you were getting annoyed because he was taking way to long. you opened the door, "why the fu-..."

your eyes shoot open. he clearly didn't hear the door open or your voice. you grin as you watch him toy with himself, moaning your name. gosh, you never knew a man's moans could be so... addicting. you could already feel heat building in your core.

you watch simon fist his cock a couple more times before his cum drenches his hand and the chair under him. you grin and decide this is the time to speak up, "you enjoy yourself?"

simon felt his heart drop and he turned to look at you. his soft cock now going hard again by the sight of you. he let out a fit of sorry's and of course the dumbest like any man could say, 'it isn't what it looks like'.

"cut the bullshit, simon. you were jerking off, moaning my name. the fuck is it meant to look like?"

he looked away in shame and embarrassment. "and you know what makes it worse?"

he looks up at you, noticing the digested expression on your face. "your cock is getting hard again. you fucking pervert."

"i-i'm s-sor-... a-ah!!"

his eyes widened when your hand wraps around his cock. he let's out a groan when you pull the uncut foreskin down to see his angry leaking tip. "fucking disgusting. you're getting off by this!?"

blood rushes to simon's face and he let's out a croaky moan when your thumb traces across his tip, collecting his pre-cum. you slip your thumb into your mouth, the salty flavour lingering on your tongue. he watched you carefully, his breathy unsteady and his cock twitched a bit. "you're such a fucking pervert. you enjoying this, letting your roommate, your bully, play with your cock like this?"

he avoids your gaze causing you to dig your pretty, manicured nails into thigh, "answer me simon."

he lets out a pained groan and nods, "y-yes.."

you move hand to wrap his cock again and you begin jerking off his cock, his previous orgasm presenting as lube to help you guide your hand up and down his length. you watch as his head rolls back onto the of his gaming chair and his face contort into pleasure. you kiss your lips against his tip and he tenses up.

you grin, and you slip the head of his cock into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it and watch as simon's eyes close from the pleasure. you tongue teases the slit of his cock, taking pleasure in the salty taste of his pre-cum.

he groans and starts blabbering about how he's gonna cum. he opens his eyes to see your pretty half lidded eyes looking up at him through your lashes. you slip your mouth off his tip and pump his cock a lot quicker, hoping for more of his creamy white. instead you were met with loud groans and tiny droplets of cum. you look up at him again to see how breathy he was and you immediately start bursting out laughing.

"fuck me! you're so out of breathe and you only gave me, what, two, three fucking drops of cum? how embarrassing."

your laughter was humiliating enough, but now a whole sentence about it? he felt the heat rush up to his face in embarrassment, but what was then embarrassment was now lust.

he whines and watches as your tongue swirl around his tip again. tears building up his eyes from the sensitivity, and you slowly start taking him deeper into your mouth, and that's when waterworks come out. he wasn't fully crying, just a couple of tears from the painful pleasure, that's all.

you hear sniffles and sobs and you look up to see simon crying and you never felt so turned on in your life. how fucking cute. you take your mouth off of his cock and you give him the most smug grin ever. "are you fucking serious?! you're crying? oh my fucking god."

a full-blown laugh erupts from your lips. not again. he watches you slowly call down and stop laughing, and he notices something different about your expression. sure, lust was still there, but there was a tint of sadism there now. fuck. are you getting turned on by this!?

he doesn't even get the chance to say or think about it before you're already deepthroating him. he let's out a loud groan, tears leaking out of his eyes now. he can't help it, it feels so painfully good and the pleasures to much. you nose was nuzzled against his pubes and bop your head up and down and you are delighted to hear his pornagraphic moans and groabs and again as he cums. you were delivered with the same tiny droplets of cum.

you take your mouth off of his cock again, "fuck. the same orgasm from before how pathetic."

he couldn't even pay attention, too, out of this world to say or do anything. he was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down but he let out a strained and choked moan to feel your wetness engulfing his cock. his eyes open and he looks down to see your pretty lacey red panties pushed to the side. he watches as your wet cunt slips his onto his cock with greed.

he groans at the feeling and he can't help the tears anymore. he doesn't care, he gives up, letting himself cry. his tears blur up his vision and he focuses on the feeling of your gorgeous warmth sucking his cock in until it was kissing your cervix. you slowly start bouncing on his cock and he's gone at this point.

eyes rolled to the back of his head and his head again resting against the head of his chair again. the chair creaks as you ride him. your moans being music to his ears. you place kisses all over his neck, smothering it in love bites and hickeys.

you feel his hands wrap around your waist, and you watch the state he's in. messy hair, eyes rolled to the back of his head, hickeys all over his neck. it's so fucking cute. "you're so fucking weak, what kind of man are you? a weak one at that. you're such a fucking crybaby."

you feel his cock twitch slightly at your words and you mouth shifts into a sadistic smirk, "you like that, getting called weak? a crybaby? a fucking man whore?"

you feel his cock twitch again, "f-fuck... you do... a-ah~... you do like that."

you feel your orgasm approaching and you pick up the speed. soon enough, you both have each other screaming each other's names. you squirting and simon finally delivering you that delicious creamy white you were so desperate for. you slowly slip off of his cock, your mixed orgasm now leaking onto the chair them the floor.

at this point, simon was so drained. his cock slowly going limp. his eyes start going droopy, tired from you two's sessions. his eyes closed and all his can remember is your soft lips against his then you saying,

"goodnight simon."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･*

extra side note: may or may not have gotten carried away 😔. um, please tell me if this was good because i feel as if i waffled way to hard😰 and that it's shit. i know it's probably gonna get barely any like as most of my post now but whatever. at least i tried 😛😛 also took me 2-3 fucking hours to do and it may not look like it but oh well, yolo. 😽

wanna know more about me —> here

masterlist —> here

[callsignfate]

Valeria Garza HC's

(These are random hc's in no particular order, I would say mainly relationship hc's. Enjoy)

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

♤She is and will use anything against you. Shorter than her? She's going to 100% use that against you. Scared of spiders or the dark? She will make fun of you for it. It will be in a slightly mean way, but its kinda her love language.

♤You can't tell me this woman isn't SMOOTH. She will say the most beautiful and flirtatious thing in Spanish.. even if you don't know Spanish.

♤If you don't know Spanish? She will speak to you in Spanish in hopes you'll slowly learn it. Not that it helps or teaches you. She will make fun of you for it.

♤She's very transparent when you guys first get together that you'll now be a target and that you are now basically her willing prisoner. She will take you out and do things with you, but only with her. She doesn't trust her men to keep you safe properly. 100% believes that if you need to get something done right, she has to do it herself.

♤This woman is in control. Take that as you will, but she is. She doesn't change that fact for anyone. Control makes her comfortable. You ask her to let you take the reigns? She will laugh at you and shut that down immediately. This woman gives off "fuck around, find out" and boy will you find out.

♤Valeria's bed is the bland. Two pillows and a bland blanket. This woman prioritizes function over everything else. Her room is bland too. Barely any furniture and MAYBE a TV (that is covered in dust because she never uses it.)

♤She. Is. Possessive. She doesn't have to leave hickeys or anything on your skin. She doesn't have to. Her men know who you are and that you are hers. Do not try to leave hickeys on her skin. She will not be happy. She 100% feels like they are something horny teenagers do.

♤Valeria's way of showing love is picking on you endlessly. If she sees you actually struggling, she's not stupid and will tone it down or stop. She can be loving and soft if needed, although you tell anyone, and she will deny it.

♤She obviously has an attitude. A big attitude. She wins most arguments 100%. She might compromise by letting whatever you argue about happen if she thinks on it and realizes she was in the wrong. Do not expect her to admit she was wrong. She will take that shit to the grave.

♤ Hate someone? Don't tell her about it. She would kill for you. Once she loves you, she will move heaven and earth for you. Devoted. This woman would be DEVOTED to you.

♤She knows your insecurities and won't make fun of them, but she will tell you in her own way that she likes them. Now, if you're ever insecure about your relationship or worried that one of her men likes her? She would 100% degrade that person and tell you how much she genuinely doesn't like them or hates them.

♤She knows what she does to you. She loves to know you're obsessed with her in every way. She will 100% figure out every little thing about you and what you like about her and use it against you in any way possible.

♤I feel like she struggles to say that she loves you. You say it? She will 100% say "and I, you" or something to get around saying the exact words. I feel like she may say it in Spanish.

♤Nicknames? All of them are somehow mean in a loving way. All of them are in Spanish as well. If they make you melt, she will only call you by them. (Will call you idiot in Spanish as a nickname)

♤She can cook, and she likes to on days that weren't particularly long or busy (which is rare). If you know how to cook, and you cook for her, she will eat it. She will tell you things that were wrong with it if she finds any.

♤Valeria is blunt. Straight to the point. She will tell you if you are doing something wrong, call you stupid, laugh at you, then she will call you a cute nickname and help.

♤Do you wanna dress up for something or some reason? Go right ahead. She won't. She will wear the same style and type of clothes. Pants and a shirt. I feel like she 100% feels more comfortable and confident in pants and a shirt. I think she almost prefers it because she needs to make sure she's ready for anything.