#cracks open this blog for a hot second | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

throttleheart · 2 months ago

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Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff. Crack treated seriously

Warnings: 18+, fluff, secondhand embarrassment, teasing, implied smut if you squint, lando being a menace & insufferable, unresolved tension, suggestive comments, mutual pining, Y/N fighting for her life, suggestive content, makeout session, mutual pining, nsfw, they like each other so much get a room

Word Count: ~7.7k

Summary: the one where y/n runs a Tumblr account about Lando and posts fics about him, cue to chaos

tried my hand at writing something that's not in third person

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You should’ve closed your laptop.

It was a simple action. One you always did when Lando came over. Because no one—not a single soul—could ever find out about your Tumblr account.

But apparently, the universe had other plans.

Lando was in your kitchen, rummaging through your fridge like he owned the place, while you were curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone. It was supposed to be a chill night—just movies, snacks, and him being annoying as usual.

And then you heard it.

“Wait.”

You looked up, confused. Lando was frozen, standing behind your desk, your very open laptop in front of him.

Your very open Tumblr dashboard in front of him.

With a very specific post displayed at the top.

A post about him.

Your stomach dropped. “Lando.”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at the screen, his eyebrows raising higher by the second.

Then, slowly—so painfully slowly—he turned to face you, a shit-eating grin already forming.

“What. Is. This?”

Your soul left your body.

“Nothing,” you blurted out, scrambling off the couch. “Close it. Right now.”

But he didn’t close it. Of course he didn’t.

Instead, he scrolled.

“Oh my God—Lando, STOP.” You lunged for your laptop, but he dodged, laughing as he held it out of reach.

“‘His hands gripped my waist, possessive, desperate—’” He snorted, eyes flicking over the words. “Jesus, is this about me?”

You wanted to die. Right there. On the spot. Instant cardiac arrest.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP.” You tried to grab it again, but he was too quick, spinning away, now fully invested in your blog.

“‘Lando Norris was dangerous in the kind of way that ruined you for anyone else—’” He whistled, eyes wide. “Wow. You really think I’m that good, huh?”

You groaned, face burning. “I swear to GOD, if you don’t stop—”

But he just grinned, scrolling further.

“Oh, look! A fic! Let’s see what I’ve been up to.”

You panicked. “LAN—”

And then he started reading out loud.

“‘His breath was hot against my neck, sending shivers down my spine as he whispered—’”

“I’M DELETING THE BLOG.”

“‘Tell me who you belong to, baby.’”

“I’M BLOCKING MY OWN ACCOUNT.”

Lando lost it, doubling over in laughter, your laptop now clutched to his chest like it was his most prized possession.

“Oh, this is amazing. This is the best day of my life.”

You buried your face in your hands, wishing the earth would just swallow you whole. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You peeked through your fingers, glowering. “Yes, I do.”

He just smirked, finally setting your laptop down—but not before saving your blog link to his phone.

“Oh, you are NEVER living this down.”

You groaned again, flopping onto the couch, officially defeated.

Lando chuckled, moving to sit beside you, his arm draping over your shoulders. “So… do I actually whisper filthy things in your ear, or was that just for the fic?”

You whacked him with a pillow.

“I’m never speaking to you again.”

Lando snorted, leaning back against the couch, completely unfazed. “Oh, come on. You’re being dramatic.”

You glared at him, crossing your arms. “Dramatic? You just found out I run a Tumblr fan account dedicated to you. Do you understand how mortifying that is?”

“Oh, trust me, I do.” He grinned, stretching his legs out. “Because I’ve read your work. And I gotta say, I’m impressed.”

Your entire body burned with embarrassment. “I hate you.”

He clicked his tongue, smirking. “You already said that. But according to your fics, you also ‘crave me in ways words could never fully describe.’”

“I’M DEACTIVATING.”

Lando laughed, full and genuine, his stupid dimples making an appearance.

“Seriously, though. How long have you had it?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. There was no getting out of this. “A couple of years. Since before we even met.”

His eyebrows shot up. “So, you were obsessed with me before I even knew you existed? Damn, that’s kinda hot.”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

Lando ignored you, his mind already working overtime. “Wait—does that mean you’ve written fics about me and other girls?”

You froze.

His eyes widened. “OH MY GOD, YOU HAVE.”

“IT WAS BEFORE I KNEW YOU.”

“SO YOU SHIPPED ME WITH OTHER PEOPLE?!”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at his face. “STOP MAKING THIS WORSE.”

He caught it easily, grinning like an absolute menace. “Wow. Betrayal. And here I thought I was your favorite.”

You groaned, covering your face again. “This is literally the worst night of my life.”

Lando chuckled, shifting closer until his leg was pressed against yours. “Nah, this is great. Best night, actually.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You are insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

You huffed, looking away. He was too close now, his familiar scent—cologne, a little sweat, a hint of something sweet—messing with your head.

Lando must’ve noticed, because his voice dropped, lower, smoother. “So… which one’s your favorite?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

He smirked, fingertips tracing random patterns on your thigh. “Which fic? Out of all the ones you wrote about me. Which one do you like the most?”

Your mouth went dry.

Because you knew exactly which one it was.

And it was not PG-13.

“Oh my God. You’re thinking of one right now.”

Lando’s voice was pure amusement, but there was something else underneath it too—something teasing, something dark, something undeniably smug.

You swallowed hard, trying to play it cool. “No, I’m not.”

“You so are.” His fingers brushed over your knee, barely there, but enough to make you shiver.

“Lando.”

He hummed, tilting his head. “You wrote about it.” His fingers slid a little higher. “Wanna recreate it?”

Your breath hitched.

His smirk widened.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I hate you.”

Lando grinned, cocky and completely unaffected. “You keep saying that, but I’m starting to think you mean something else.”

Your jaw clenched, doing your best to ignore the way his fingers were still casually resting against your leg, warm and so distracting. You weren’t going to let him win this.

Not after he found your Tumblr. Not after he read your fics.

Not after he figured out exactly how much you wanted him.

“You are never letting this go, are you?” You muttered, refusing to look at him.

Lando leaned in, voice low and infuriatingly smug. “Oh, absolutely not.”

Your entire face burned. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah?” His fingers traced small circles against your thigh, barely there but enough to make your breath hitch. “Then why are you still letting me touch you?”

You snapped your legs shut, shoving his hand away like you weren’t seconds away from losing your mind. “Because I haven’t kicked you out yet. But don’t test me.”

Lando laughed, throwing his head back. “God, you’re cute when you’re defensive.”

“I am not defensive!”

“Mhm. Sure.” He stretched, acting like this was the most casual conversation ever, like he wasn’t slowly destroying you from the inside out. “So… about that fic.”

You groaned, dropping your head back against the couch. “Lando.”

“What? I’m just curious.” He nudged you with his elbow. “Come on. Which one’s your favorite? The one where I take you in the backseat of a McLaren? Or the one where you call me ‘Sir’ and—”

“I’M BLOCKING YOU.”

Lando cackled, absolutely thriving off your suffering. “Oh, babe, it’s too late for that. You should’ve blocked me before I found your blog. Now I know everything.”

You whined, grabbing a pillow and burying your face in it. Maybe if you ignored him long enough, he’d magically disappear.

But, of course, Lando never made things that easy.

His voice dropped, teasing but also… something else. Something thicker, heavier. “You know… we could make it real.”

Your breath caught.

Slowly, you peeked out from behind the pillow, heart hammering. “What?”

He tilted his head, watching you like he was memorizing every little reaction. “If you want. If you think your writing is accurate, we could… test it out. See if I really do all the things you imagined.”

Oh.

Your brain short-circuited.

“You’re messing with me.”

Lando shrugged, eyes still locked on yours. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanna know what’s got you writing about me late at night.”

Your throat went dry. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, but you love it.” His smirk deepened. “And, apparently, you love me.”

You hated that he was right.

You hated that your entire body was betraying you, your pulse racing, your breath uneven.

Most of all, you hated that you were actually considering it.

Because the way he was looking at you now—dark eyes, lazy smirk, confidence dripping from every inch of him—made it really, really hard to say no.

“So, what’s it gonna be, babe?” Lando murmured, fingers grazing your wrist, slow and deliberate.

Your heart pounded.

You knew exactly where this was going.

And you didn’t want to stop it.

Not even a little bit.

“Fuck it,” you whispered, grabbing him by the collar.

And then you closed the gap.

Lando barely had a second to react before your lips crashed into his, the force of it knocking the smirk right off his face.

But he recovered fast—his hands instantly sliding around your waist, pulling you in like this was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

And maybe he had.

The kiss was hot, messy, desperate, all the teasing from earlier boiling over into something neither of you could control anymore. You could feel him smiling against your lips, like he was so damn pleased with himself for pushing you this far.

So you bit his lip.

Lando groaned, hands tightening on your hips. “Fuck, okay. That’s how we’re playing?”

“Shut up.” You kissed him again, hands threading through his stupidly soft curls, tugging just hard enough to make him swear under his breath.

He exhaled a sharp laugh, pulling you fully into his lap like he had zero patience left. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You just smirked, nails dragging lightly against the back of his neck. “And you talk too much.”

Lando opened his mouth to say something—probably another cocky remark—but you cut him off with another kiss, grinding down just enough to make his breath hitch.

His fingers dug into your thighs, grip tightening. “Jesus, babe. You tryna kill me?”

“Just proving a point.”

Lando licked his lips, watching you like you were his next win on the track. “Yeah? And what point is that?”

You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear. “That I could write something even better after this.”

His reaction was instant—a low curse, a sharp breath, his hands gripping you harder like he was fighting the urge to just flip you over and take control.

And that’s when you realized.

Lando loved the chase. Loved being the one teasing, the one making you squirm. But now? Now he was the one losing his mind, the one stuck between wanting to keep up the game and completely unraveling beneath you.

And it was delicious.

You smirked, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his jaw. “Speechless, Norris? That’s a first.”

Lando exhaled sharply, his hands skimming under your shirt, warm and all-consuming. “Oh, babe. You have no idea what you just started.”

You tilted your head. “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

His grip tightened, his smile turning dangerous.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Lando’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he looked at you like you were his next race, his next win—something he had to conquer, own, ruin in the best way possible.

And maybe you would’ve let him.

If you weren’t having so much fun watching him lose his mind.

You smirked, running your fingers down his chest slowly, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch. “What’s wrong, Norris? Cat got your tongue?”

His jaw ticked, hands flexing on your hips. “Careful, babe. You keep talking like that, and I’m gonna have to shut you up myself.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, fingers dipping under the hem of his shirt. “That supposed to scare me?”

Lando let out a low laugh, but it sounded strained, like he was fighting every single instinct telling him to take control.

“Not scared, huh?” He leaned in, breath hot against your lips. “Even if I do… this?”

Before you could respond, his hands squeezed your thighs, dragging you closer until there was nothing between you.

You let out a shaky breath, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you completely fall apart. Not yet.

Instead, you smiled sweetly, tracing your fingers down his arm. “That all you got, Norris? Thought you were supposed to be a world-class driver.”

Lando’s eyes flashed, and you knew you’d just made a huge mistake.

Because now? He was done playing.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.” His voice was low, dangerous, like the calm before a storm.

And you?

You were so fucked.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Lando’s voice was low, the kind that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers flexed on your hips, holding you therelike he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

And the look in his eyes?

Yeah, you were so done for.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your cool. “Big words, Norris. But I’m still waiting.”

Lando huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “You just love pushing your luck, don’t you?”

You smirked, tilting your head slightly. “Maybe.”

His grip on you tightened, and for a second, you thought he was actually going to give in—going to kiss you, ruin you, wipe that smug look off your face with his lips.

But then?

He did something much worse.

Lando leaned in, lips barely brushing your ear, voice low and smug as hell when he whispered,

“I read the smut, you know.”

Your entire body locked up.

“…You what?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh yeah. I read all of it.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Every single detail.” His fingers traced small circles on your waist. “All those filthy little thoughts in that pretty head of yours. Want me to list some of my favorites?”

Oh. Oh no. Oh fuck.

Your face burned, heart racing way too fast. “Lando—”

“What was it you wrote the other day?” He pretended to think, tapping his fingers against your hip. “Oh, right. ‘Lando looks like he’d be the type to ruin you against the nearest surface and then act all innocent about it.’”

Your soul left your body.

“That was a joke, obviously,” you blurted out, your voice way too high-pitched to be convincing.

Lando just grinned, eyes gleaming. “Mmm, was it? Because it sounded like you spent a lot of time thinking about it.”

You wanted to die.

You shoved at his chest, face on fire. “Oh my god, shut up.”

Lando laughed, the sound bright and teasing, like he was having the time of his life watching you absolutely crumble in front of him.

“What else did you say? Oh—‘I bet he’d love taking his time, dragging it out until I’m begging’—”

“LANDO.”

He was cackling now, gripping your wrist when you tried to flee. “Aw, babe, don’t be shy. I think it’s cute.”

You glared at him, trying (and failing) to regain even a shred of dignity. “You’re the worst.”

Lando just smirked, leaning in again. “If I’m the worst, why’d you write an entire fantasy about me?”

You hated how your breath hitched, how your pulse raced, how he was way too close and way too cocky about it.

“That was fiction,” you muttered, even though your body was betraying you with every second that passed.

Lando tilted his head, lips barely inches from yours. “So if I kissed you right now, it wouldn’t be like what you wrote?”

Your breath caught.

His fingers brushed against your jaw, thumb grazing your lips, teasing.

“Wouldn’t feel that good?” His voice was softer now, but the intensity in his eyes? Burning.

You hated him.

You wanted him.

And he knew it.

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping his hoodie. “Why don’t you find out?”

Lando’s smirk dropped.

For the first time since this whole thing started, you had him right where you wanted him.

And you weren’t backing down.

Not this time.

Lando’s smirk faltered.

For the first time all night, you had him exactly where you wanted him.

And the way his fingers tensed against your skin? How his lips parted, breath just a little uneven?

Yeah. He knew it too.

His gaze flickered to your lips. Once. Twice.

You almost dared him to do it.

Almost.

But Lando Norris was nothing if not stubborn, and you should’ve known he wouldn’t make this easy.

Instead, he did what he always did.

He made you wait.

“You want me to find out?” His voice was low, teasing. Deadly.

Your pulse spiked, fingers tightening on his hoodie. “Are you always this annoying?”

Lando grinned, tilting his head. “Only for you.”

Before you could snap back, he moved.

Slowly. Deliberately.

His hand slid from your waist, up your side, over your ribs, until his thumb brushed the edge of your jaw. His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up, holding you there like he had all the time in the world.

You swallowed.

Hard.

Because this was different.

This wasn’t him teasing you for fun. This wasn’t him trying to get under your skin just to see you flustered.

This was something else entirely.

Something dangerous.

You could feel it in the way his thumb traced soft circles against your cheek, in the way his chest rose and fell just a little too quickly.

And when he spoke again?

It was barely above a whisper.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.”

Your breath hitched.

Lando’s forehead pressed against yours, his nose grazing yours, and fuck— this was so much worse than just kissing you outright.

Because now you could feel everything. The way his fingers tightened slightly, like he was holding back. The way his lips were just barely there, almost taunting you.

“I—” Your voice caught, because, holy shit, he wasn’t playing anymore.

His thumb traced your bottom lip, slow. Precise.

“Last chance, love,” he murmured.

You exhaled shakily, the tension thick enough to drown in.

And then?

Then you did the only thing you could.

You closed the gap.

Finally.

Lando swore softly against your lips, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually go through with it.

Like he had just lost some kind of game.

But the second he recovered?

He took control.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping tight as he pulled you flush against him. His lips moved against yours with that stupid mix of confidence and recklessness, like he had been waiting for this moment forever.

And honestly?

Maybe you had too.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan into the kiss. And fuck, you wanted to memorize that sound, wanted to hear it again and again and—

Lando suddenly flipped you, pressing you into the couch, half on top of you now, grinning against your mouth.

“So, I was right.”

You blinked up at him, still breathless, still so lost in him that it took a second for his words to register.

“…What?”

Lando smirked, but his voice was soft, almost too soft when he whispered,

“I really can ruin you against the nearest surface.”

Your stomach flipped.

And that was when you knew—

You were so completely screwed.

Lando was still hovering over you, smirk barely there, but his eyes?

His eyes told a different story.

Because he was wrecked.

Just as much as you were.

Maybe more.

But he was still being Lando. Still being the cocky little shit who knew exactly what he was doing to you.

So when he spoke next?

It was deadly.

“You’re staring.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. “No, I’m not.”

Lando laughed, but it came out rough, like he was feeling every bit of this too.

“You’re literally looking at my mouth right now.”

Your gaze snapped up immediately. “Am not.”

“Liar.”

“Asshole.”

Lando grinned, but then his expression shifted, the teasing slipping into something quieter.

Something dangerous.

His fingers brushed along your jaw, so gentle it made you ache. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you like this. Like he was memorizing you.

You swallowed hard. “Lando…”

He hummed, but he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t stop looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

And fuck— It was too much.

“Say it.” His voice was low, rough, like he was barely holding on.

Your breath caught.

“Say what?”

Lando’s lips hovered over yours, so fucking close that you felt his breath, but he didn’t close the gap.

Didn’t kiss you.

Not yet.

“Say you want me.”

Your heart stuttered, because— Fuck.

This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t teasing.

This was real.

And it was so much worse because he didn’t say it like a challenge. He didn’t say it like he was certain you already did.

He said it like he needed to hear it.

Like he needed you to say it first.

Your throat felt tight, chest aching, because it was always supposed to be a game with Lando.

Always a push and pull.

But suddenly— It wasn’t.

Suddenly, it felt like this moment was everything.

And maybe that scared you more than anything.

But you still said it.

Still let it slip past your lips, quiet and shaky but unmistakably true.

“I want you.”

Lando’s breath hitched.

And then?

Then he kissed you.

Really kissed you.

Not the way he had before— Not playful or teasing or just for the sake of winning.

This was different.

This was slow, needy, like he was pouring every unspoken thing between you into the way his lips moved against yours.

Like he had been waiting for this moment forever.

And maybe he had.

Maybe you had too.

His fingers tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, closer, closer like he couldn’t get enough.

And fuck, neither could you.

Because you had kissed him before, but it had never felt like this.

Like he meant it.

Like you did.

Like neither of you were running anymore.

Lando’s lips were still on yours, but now?

Now, it wasn’t desperate.

Now, it was soft.

Like he was savoring it.

Like he was memorizing every second.

And maybe you were too.

Your fingers slipped beneath the fabric of his hoodie, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Lando exhaled, a quiet sound against your lips before he pulled back, just enough to look at you.

His forehead pressed against yours, breath still uneven, eyes still dark.

And then he smiled.

Not cocky. Not teasing.

Just soft.

Just Lando.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago.”

Your heart skipped, but you still managed to breathe out, “Yeah, no shit.”

Lando laughed, and fuck— The sound made your chest feel lighter than it had in days.

“I mean it.” His voice was gentle now, his fingers brushing down your arm. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

You bit your lip. “Know what?”

His thumb traced lazy circles along your wrist, gaze flickering over your face like he was deciding whether to say it.

Then, finally—

“That I’m fucking crazy about you.”

Your stomach dropped.

Because— What the fuck?

Your lips parted, but the words got stuck in your throat, and Lando?

Lando just smirked.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

But then his expression softened again, and suddenly, it wasn’t just teasing anymore.

Suddenly, it was real.

And it terrified you.

Because he meant it. Because Lando Norris meant it.

And you?

You were so gone for him it wasn’t even funny.

So you swallowed the fear down and just let yourself have this.

For once.

You leaned in, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie, voice barely above a whisper—

“Yeah, well… I’m kinda crazy about you too.”

Lando’s eyes lit up, and before you could blink, he was kissing you again.

Slower this time.

Sweeter.

Like he wanted to make sure you believed him.

And maybe— Maybe for the first time—

You did.

Lando kissed you deeper this time.

Not teasing. Not hesitant.

Just wanting.

And fuck, you felt it everywhere.

His hands slid down your waist, fingers gripping like he was scared to let go. Like if he did, you’d slip away again.

Your back hit the couch, the weight of him pressing into you, his hoodie bunched up where your hands had fisted into it.

“Is this okay?” His voice was low, lips brushing against yours.

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him.

“Need to hear you say it, love.”

God.

Your stomach flipped, the way his voice dropped, the way his hands stayed gentle even when everything else about him was wrecking you.

“Yes, Lando.”

That was all he needed.

He groaned, pressing his lips back to yours, his fingers slipping beneath your hoodie, tracing hot lines over your bare skin.

Your breath hitched when his lips moved, traveling down your jaw, kissing, nipping, teasing until he reached that sweet spot at the base of your neck.

You whimpered, and he smirked against your skin.

“That’s new, huh?”

Your face burned, but you still rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And so you did.

You pulled him back down, fingers threading through his curls, tugging just hard enough to hear that little groan that made your thighs squeeze together.

Lando noticed.

Oh, he definitely noticed.

“You like that?” he murmured, voice all gravel and honey.

You refused to answer, refused to give him that satisfaction, but then his fingers trailed lower, his knee nudging between your thighs and—

“Lando—”

Yeah. You were gone.

And he knew it.

His lips found yours again, hotter this time, hungrier, like he was making up for every second he hadn’t done this before.

Like he was making up for all the time wasted.

And fuck, you let him.

You let him take his time, let his hands explore, let his lips ruin you.

Because he was yours now.

And you?

You were his.

Lando’s lips were everywhere—soft, urgent, like he was memorizing you, like he was making up for all the times he hadn’t done this before.

Like he wanted to make sure he’d never forget how you felt beneath him.

His fingers slipped beneath your hoodie, the tips grazing up your sides, teasing, not quite touching where you needed him.

You gasped against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders, needing something to hold on to because he was ruining you, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover.

Lando chuckled, his voice deep and husky, completely wrecked.

“You’re squirming, love.”

“Shut up.”

He hummed, his fingers tracing circles on your hips. “But you love it, don’t you?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but then he shifted, his knee pressing just right, and whatever you were going to say died on your tongue.

Lando grinned, completely and utterly smug. “That’s what I thought.”

You huffed, trying to glare at him, but your body betrayed you, your hands slipping into his curls, tugging just enoughto earn that deep, guttural groan that made your stomach flip.

God.

You could listen to that sound forever.

His lips found your neck again, suckling lightly, sending shivers down your spine. “Gonna write about this on your blog, sweetheart?”

You froze.

And then promptly smacked his arm.

“Lando!”

He laughed, the vibrations tickling against your skin, but when you tried to move away, he didn’t let you go.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, lips brushing your temple as his fingers slid beneath your hoodie to rest on bare, warm skin.

The shift in mood was sudden, but not unwelcome.

You felt him exhale, felt the softening in his touch.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice quieter now.

You nodded, breath still shaky, and he tilted your chin up, making you look at him.

“You sure?”

Your heart clenched.

Because for all his teasing, for all the smugness and the cocky grins, this was Lando too.

Gentle. Attentive. Yours.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He hummed, tucking you into his arms, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your back.

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, warm, safe.

After a few minutes, he chuckled. “Still gonna keep that blog up, or should I expect a rebrand?”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “Oh my god, stop.”

Lando laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you melted, because, yeah—maybe you had written about him ruining you.

But you never expected him to put you back together too.

Lando’s hands tightened on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you shiver.

“You hit me, love. That’s not very nice.”

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of the way he was still pinning you down, his body heat seeping into every inch of you.

“Maybe if you stopped talking—”

Your breath hitched as Lando dipped his head, his lips trailing lower, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

God.

Your hands fisted in his hoodie, trying to ground yourself, but he was everywhere—hot and solid and deliberate.

“I like when you get all flustered, you know that?” he murmured against your skin.

Your only response was a sharp inhale, your fingers tugging at the fabric of his hoodie, wanting it gone.

Lando chuckled, low and wrecked, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Impatient.”

You huffed, trying to push him off, but he just grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the couch, his weight pressing firmly against you.

“Lando.”

His name came out breathless, more like a plea than a warning, and his eyes darkened instantly.

“Say it again.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat in his gaze, the way his pupils had blown wide, his usual bright blue eyes now stormy and intense.

“Lando.”

This time, you barely got the word out before he kissed you again, deeper, hungrier, like he was claiming you.

Like he didn’t just want you in this moment— he wanted every single part of you.

Your hoodie was pushed up, his hands finally roaming freely, his palms warm against your bare skin, mapping out every inch of you like he never wanted to forget.

Your head tilted back, your legs tightening around his waist, and Lando just smirked, dragging his lips lower, lower, lower—

And then—

A loud ping echoed through the room.

Lando froze.

You froze.

His head dropped against your chest with a groan. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your phone.

A notification.

And, judging by the guilty look on your face, Lando already knew.

He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes, lips glistening and smug as he looked at you.

“Is that another Tumblr update?”

Your entire body burned.

You grabbed a pillow, smacking him in the face before scrambling off the couch.

“I hate you.”

Lando just laughed, completely unbothered, his arms snaking around your waist before you could escape.

“No, you don’t.”

And, to your absolute horror, he reached for your phone, grinning devilishly as he scrolled through your notifications.

“Oh, love—look at that. Another comment asking for a spicy update. Should I help you with some inspiration?”

You shrieked, grabbing your phone back, shoving him playfully away as he just grinned at you like a menace.

And even as you glared at him, breath still uneven, body still buzzing, you knew one thing for certain—

You’d never, ever run out of things to write about.

Lando was still grinning, still so smug, still looking at you like he had all the time in the world to ruin you completely.

And, god, you wanted to let him.

You shoved your phone under a pillow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re the worst.”

Lando tilted his head, eyes dragging over you, from your flushed cheeks to your hoodie, which was still bunched upfrom where his hands had been.

And then—he smirked. The smirk. The one that made you weak every single time.

“Am I?” He took one slow step forward.

Your breath hitched.

“You sure about that?” Another step.

You should back up.

You should run.

But you didn’t.

Lando just watched you, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “Because I think, sweetheart, you actually like it.”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire.

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already there, closing the space between you, his hands gripping your hips, tugging you against him.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You couldn’t.

Because he wasn’t.

You were absolutely, completely, utterly gone for him.

Lando chuckled, pressing a slow, teasing kiss just below your ear, his fingers tugging at the hem of your hoodie.

“Take this off.”

You froze, your heart slamming into your ribs.

He must’ve felt your hesitation because he pulled back slightly, eyes softer now, searching yours.

“Only if you want to, baby.”

Baby.

You nearly melted right there.

You swallowed, gripping his hoodie instead, tugging him closer. “I want to.”

Lando exhaled slowly, like he was holding himself back, his hands sliding up beneath the fabric, his fingers tracing fire along your skin.

“Then let me.”

He tugged it over your head in one smooth motion, and then—

His eyes.

Dark. Hungry. Completely locked onto you.

“Fuck.”

Your stomach tightened, heat rushing through you because he wasn’t just looking—he was memorizing you.

Like you were something he never wanted to forget.

And then, he was on you again, his hands gripping your waist, his lips crashing against yours, deeper, more desperate.

Like he was making up for lost time.

You barely registered being backed up against the couch before Lando’s hands were everywhere, sliding down your thighs, your hips, his fingers pressing, teasing, taking his time.

Your breath hitched as his lips trailed lower, down your jaw, your collarbone, the slope of your shoulder.

“Lando.”

He groaned against your skin. “Say it again.”

You did. Over and over again.

And when he finally pulled back, his lips swollen, his curls a mess, his hands still gripping your thighs like he couldn’t bear to let go—

He grinned, panting, eyes still blown wide with heat.

“Gonna write about that, too?”

You laughed, smacking his chest before pulling him back in.

Because, yeah—maybe you would.

But for now?

You had way better things to do.

Lando was everywhere.

His hands, his lips, his body pressed against yours, like he was claiming you, like he was making sure you’d never think about anyone else the way you thought about him.

Like he was making up for every single fic you’d ever written about him— and proving he could be so much better.

His breath was hot against your skin, his hands slipping under the waistband of your shorts, fingers trailing lower, lower—

“Lando—”

He groaned, the sound gravelly, desperate, like he was just as wrecked as you were.

“Say my name like that again, and I swear—” His voice was low, dark, full of something that made your knees weak.

You trembled, clutching at his hoodie. “Lando.”

He growled. Actually growled.

And then—

Your back hit the couch, your legs parted, and he was above you, between you, everywhere.

His mouth was on your neck, your collarbone, your chest, his hands gripping your thighs, sliding them higher around his waist.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His breath was ragged, his hands tight on you, like he was barely holding it together.

You felt feverish, your skin burning, your pulse racing, your entire body aching for more.

His lips brushed your ear, voice wrecked.

“Tell me what you want.”

You whimpered, arching into him. “You.”

Lando exhaled sharply, his forehead dropping to yours. “Yeah? You want me to ruin you, baby?”

“Yes.”

His lips curved into a smirk.

And then—

He did.

Lando's eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your hips as he pressed firmly against you, letting you feel just how much he wanted this—wanted you.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your jaw, down your throat,leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

You gasped, your fingers threading through his curls, tugging just enough to make him groan against your skin. God, that sound.

His hands slid lower, gripping your thighs, spreading you open beneath him. His touch was teasing, torturous, deliberate.

"Lando—"

He smirked, because he knew. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Patience, love.”

Patience? Fuck patience.

You arched up into him, pressing your body flush against his, and his breath hitched, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?" he teased, but his voice was hoarse, like he was barely holding himself together.

"Shut up and touch me."

He chuckled, low and dangerous. "You want me to touch you, sweetheart?"

"Yes."

"Where?" His fingers skimmed the edge of your shorts, barely there, taunting.

"Everywhere."

Lando swore under his breath, his control snapping like a frayed wire.

And then he was kissing you again—deep, desperate, all-consuming.

His hands slid under your hoodie, tugging it over your head, his lips barely leaving yours for a second before they were back, claiming, devouring.

He pressed his hips into yours, and the friction made your head spin.

"Feel that?" he breathed against your lips. "That’s what you do to me."

You whimpered, your nails raking down his back, pulling him closer, needing more.

"Lando, please—"

He groaned, his forehead dropping to yours. "Jesus, you're gonna be the death of me."

And then—

His hands. His mouth. His body against yours.

And nothing else in the world mattered.

Lando’s lips were still pressed to your neck, the heat of his breath making your skin burn. You could feel the weight of him above you, his chest rising and falling with every labored breath, his body just inches from yours, and the way his hands moved gently, almost hesitantly, as if asking for permission to get closer.

You didn’t stop him.

His fingertips grazed along your skin, light and teasing, before finally, slowly, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You shivered, gasping as his touch lingered, so close but not quite touching what you needed.

His lips moved back to your ear, voice low and dangerous. "Tell me you want this," he whispered, the words laced with so much desire that it sent a wave of heat through your body. "Tell me you want me as much as I want you."

You swallowed, fighting the urge to pull him closer, but you couldn’t find the words at first. The tension was thick, hanging between you like a promise waiting to be broken.

Finally, you could barely breathe as you whispered back, voice barely audible. "I want you."

And that was all it took.

Lando’s lips crashed down on yours, desperate now, like he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands pulled at your pants, quickly, almost too quickly, and in a rush of movement, you were completely exposed to him, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as his body pressed you into the sheets.

He hovered over you for a moment, pausing, his eyes locking with yours. "Are you sure?" His voice was rough, like he was barely holding onto his control.

You could barely speak, but you nodded, reaching for him, pulling him in, desperate to close the distance between you two.

"Then let’s not waste any more time."

And then, there was no stopping him.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Lando’s chest vibrated with laughter, and you could feel it everywhere—his warmth pressed against you, the rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek.

You huffed dramatically. “I’m deleting my blog.”

Lando gasped, mock-offended. “You’d do that to all your fans? To all the people who live for your thirst posts about me? That’s cruel, love.”

You groaned, trying to shove his grinning face away, but he only held you tighter, rolling you onto your back so he could hover over you again.

His curls were a mess, his lips kiss-swollen, and the way he was looking at you—like you were his favorite thing in the world—made your breath hitch.

“You really read all of them?” you murmured, your fingers tracing absentminded circles on his bicep.

Lando smirked, but this time, it was softer. “Course I did. Had to know what I was up against.”

You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

He let out a small breath, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You write about me like I’m some kind of dream, you know? Like I’m untouchable. But I’ve been right here, loving you the whole time.”

Your heart stopped.

Lando had always been flirty, always been the one to push your buttons, but this? This was different.

This was real.

Your fingers tightened around his arm, your voice barely above a whisper. “Lando…”

He smiled, leaning down, pressing the softest kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I mean it, love. You’re not just some girl writing about me on the internet. You’re my girl.”

Something in your chest cracked open, something tender and terrifying all at once.

You reached up, pulling him down, your lips meeting his with more emotion than you could put into words.

Lando sighed into you, his hands sliding down your waist, his body pressing closer, deeper, warmer.

And suddenly, your blog posts didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore.

Because Lando Norris was the kind of man to ruin you in the best possible way— and put you back together all over again.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

You were wrapped up in his hoodie, sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on your legs, as you stared at your dashboard.

Lando walked in, fresh out of the shower, a towel slung over his shoulders, hair still damp.

“Oh no.” His voice was teasing, amused. “Are you writing about me again?”

You glared playfully, closing the screen. “Absolutely not.”

He grinned, plopping down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“What if I wanna read the next chapter?” he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing your jaw, your neck, your shoulder.

You shivered, tilting your head slightly. “What if I just live it instead?”

Lando hummed, satisfied, his fingers curling into your hoodie, pulling you closer.

“Best story I’ve ever been a part of, love.”

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 3 months ago

Text

ProHero Deku Has a Breeding Kink | One Shot

Summary: You get Izuku the best birthday present he could ever ask for - and discover he has a breeding kink along the way.

Important Notes/TW: All characters are A21+, Izuku Midoriya is a Pro Hero, Izuku x Reader are in a long term relationship, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, breeding/pregnancy kink, consenting relationship, mention of birth control + contraception, oral sex / cunnilingus, MDNI, This is an adult only blog posting mature content

"Fuck a baby into me, Izuku." You lay your palms flat against your boyfriends chest and push. He stumbles backwards, back knocking into his bedroom wall. You press your hands against him again, bracing him there. "Do you need to be told twice?"

Izuku stares down at you, face flushed. His green eyes are dark with arousal, pupils blown wide as he takes in the confident set of your mouth. You mean business.

"Here. I'll make it easier for you." You strip off the rest of your clothes. You've been making out with Izuku for half an hour, and your t-shirt and jeans lay somewhere long abandoned on the Pro Hero's floor. You whip off your bra, tossing it behind you without a second thought. Izuku's eyes widen as he gazes down at your breasts - he looks ready to devour you. Next, you shimmy out of your panties, letting the damp cotton material drop to the floor with a light plop.

You turn your back on him - crossing his bedroom in two strides so that you're standing over his bed. You drop down, resting your elbows on the plush mattress and waving your ass in the air. Bent over like this, you know that your pussy is perfectly on display - lips glistening with arousal.

"Well? I'm waiting." You taunt.

It only takes a moment for him to scramble across the room to you. You hear a thump as his knees hit the floor - a moment later his face is absolutely buried in your pussy as he eats you out from behind.

"Oh fuck. Izuku! Fuuuuuck." You cry out as he hits every pleasureable spot he can find with his tongue. He brings up a calloused finger to play with your clit as he lavishes you with his mouth. After a moment, you're finally able to regain enough of your composure to issue another command: "I thought I told you to fuck me? Get to it."

This time, Izuku gets straight to the point. After a few last licks, he gets to his feet and clumsily shoves down his boxers. His hot cock springs free - already leaking with arousal as he presses it against your pussy. He moans as he slides his cockhead back and forth against your dripping entrance. It feels slippery and delightful - if he doesn't get inside of you soon, you feel you'll go absolutely insane with want.

"Baby." He says, voice cracking on the second syllable. "You want me to knock you up? Want me to fill you with my c-cum?"

"Yes. God, yes." You moan as he pushes the tip of his cock inside, opening you up. He goes in slowly, letting you feel each inch of him stretch you out. You'll never get over how good it feels to have his bare dick inside of your pussy - you never want to go back to condoms. Not when getting pounded from behind by Izuku's raw cock feels this damn good.

His pace is messy, frantic. You've wound him up far too much and now you're going to pay the price. But if you wanted slow, methodical sex, you wouldn't have teased him so much.

"I'm gonna cream pie you, baby. Fill you up. Make you mine." He's so far gone, he's muttering incoherently. His thrusts are sloppy, and you doubt he'll last long.

You thank god that you thought to get an IUD earlier this year, there's no way you could ask him to pull out when you're both so horny and desperate like this.

"Fuck, Izuku. Show me how much you love me." You groan, glancing behind you to see how absolutely wrecked you've made this man. He's blushing hard as he chases his high, his hair plastered against his forehead with sweat. His freckles stand out - cute specks on his flushed cheeks. Fat, hot tears of pleasure dribble down his face (Surprising no one, Izuku's always been a crier during sex. The emotions of love making are just too much for him.) He's so fucking beautiful, and someday you'll give him all the babies he can ask for. "Cum in me, babe. Please. I need it."

Izuku lets out a soft moan. He loves pet names of any kind. The intimacy of them drives him crazy.

You feel his cock twitch deep inside you, and you know he's about to fall over the edge.

"I'm g-gonna..." He's so pussy-drunk that he can't even form a full coherent thought. You thrust back on his dick, making it clear that you're ready for him. He shatters.

Izuku cums hard - thrusting deep inside of your tight heat. His hips stutter as he fucks hot ropes of cum into your waiting pussy. You gasp at the feel of it - no matter how many times the two of you do this, you'll never get used to the feeling of being so completely filled.

You cry out as he finishes, letting your pussy milk the final dregs of his orgasm out of his balls.

"I g-gave you all I had, babe." He gasps, pulling out of you slowly so he can watch the thick cream drip from your pussy and down your thigh. "Think it was enough?"

"Y-yeah." You say shakily, unable to rise from the bed. You feel shaky and spent. "It was definitely enough."

Izuku drops onto the bed next to you, sprawling out and taking up space as he catches his breath. His chest rises and falls quickly as he stares at you, hearts in his eyes.

"Getting that IUD was the best birthday gift you could have given me." He says softly, face still flushed. You grin back at him adoringly.

"Think you'll be able to rally for round two soon?" You ask, wiggling your butt in the air.

"For you? Always."

You laugh, rolling onto your side so he can spoon you.

You wonder aloud: "Who would have guessed that Pro Hero Deku has a breeding kink?"

516 notes · View notes

itsbeeble · 1 year ago

Text

TRY HARD

SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst

PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)

WC: 8.7k (oops)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff

A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.

The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you.

And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel.

“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin.

“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff.

“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.”

“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.”

“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?”

“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”

“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”

“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.

“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“Please don’t—”

“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”

“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand.

College Hunks Hauling Junk!

Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)

Scan HERE to book your appointment!

“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?”

He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.”

“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.

This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)

“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.”

You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier.

“I’m good, thanks.”

The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room.

Fucking try hard.

The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers.

At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you?

Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.

“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl?

“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back.

“Listen, stripper boy—”

“Juyeon—”

“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain.

“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”

“Stripper boy,” you warn.

“…is that there’s a chance?”

“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.

“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”

“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff.

“Pretty girl.”

“Because you are a pretty girl.”

“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it.

“And then…?” He teases.

“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”

You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles.

“Just someone I know.”

“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl.

“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”

The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks.

“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal.

It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.

For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you.

That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.

It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him.

“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather.

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.

“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze.

“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff.

“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.

“Do you have anywhere that you go?”

You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.”

“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first.

“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment.

“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile.

“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”

“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?”

You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.

“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches.

“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?

“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”

“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”

“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable.

“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.”

“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”

“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue.

“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”

“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle.

“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.

Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him.

“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place.

“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket.

His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made.

The bed.

The one bed in the room.

“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.

“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.

“Then where am I gonna sleep?”

“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?”

“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.

“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?”

You stare at him for a moment.

Then another.

And then another.

And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you.

“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.”

“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?”

“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?”

“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.

Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—

Wait.

…

Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart.

He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.

It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.

He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over.

Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out.

Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him.

Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat.

He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.

It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart.

God, he’s so fucked.

"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you.

Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay?

“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.”

Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought.

“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand.

“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand.

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”

“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”

“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.”

“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.

“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs.

“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side.

“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?”

“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him.

“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.

“You made fun of me!”

“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”

“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”

“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”

“I do not.” You groan.

“You do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no—”

Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest.

You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?

Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him.

You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance.

Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine.

Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did.

And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly.

“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”

“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.

“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”

It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you.

He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.

“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.”

“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together.

“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it.

“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”

“True.” He nods and lays back down.

“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”

“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”

“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”

“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that.

“Oops…”

“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.”

When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon.

Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.

“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”

It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?

There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—

You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much.

“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks.

“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him.

“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—”

“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”

“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”

Plan A is a bust, then.

Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out.

Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door.

Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon.

“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?”

Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.”

“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.”

“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”

“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”

“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”

“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes.

“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”

“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?”

“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?”

There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.

“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you.

“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?”

He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides.

“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.”

“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips.

“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”

“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours.

Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your.

This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin.

Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room.

“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away.

“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response.

“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!”

“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.

“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.”

You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him.

“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?”

There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that.

With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot.

“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again.

You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own?

“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.”

You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you.

“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand.

He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you.

“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth.

“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.”

His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction.

“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy.

“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”

“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”

“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body.

Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him.

You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you.

“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms.

When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips.

His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists.

“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest.

“That’s what you get for making me wait.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”

“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”

“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.

“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.

“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”

“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully.

“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.

“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.

“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."

“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.

"Does it matter?"

"I mean...I guess not?"

"Exactly."

“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.

“Fuck, no.”

“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”

“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”

“Not at all, boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“…Try-hard.”

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woniefication · 1 month ago

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YOU'RE A TUMBLR GIRL...?

𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒂:𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘛𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨﹔𝘌𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘹𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ﹔Fluff,crack. 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 Relationship,Reblogs ﹠ FB appreciated requested @glittercrashhh 𓈒𓈒𓈒 𝐌asterlist.

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 (이희승)

“Tumblr? Oh, cool. Like, for fanart and stuff?”But then… you go to the bathroom and leave your laptop open. He peeks. And sees a very detailed post titled ‘This man is ruining my life (affectionately)’ with a photo of him attached. Heeseung just blinks.

“Wait… is this supposed to be me?” Cue slow scroll. Moodboard reblogs. Aesthetic gifs. One too many reblogs of his hands.

Now he’s suspicious but lowkey flattered. He starts teasing you like,

“So when were you planning on telling me I’m your Tumblr crush?”He’ll act smug, but the second you reblog a comfort post and tag it #heeseungcore he just melts and rereads it 12 times. Probably starts sending you “post this one, it fits your theme” like a Tumblr boyfriend-in-training.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒂𝒚 (박종성) Immediately suspicious.

Jay finds out completely by accident. He asks what you’re laughing at one day and you say “a post on Tumblr.” He immediately stops mid-sip of his drink.

Wait. You have a Tumblr?” And suddenly he's like a detective, narrowing his eyes at you. “Do you write stuff? Like… about me?” When you say “maybe,” he gasps like you betrayed him.

But then? He starts snooping. Searches up phrases you’ve said, lines from your tags, stalks every mutual interaction like he’s solving a crime. Eventually, he walks into the room and drops:

“So… ‘Coach Dilf AU’ huh?” You panic. He looks smug. “You’re so lucky I’m hot.” Jay pretends to be scandalized, but the truth? He checks your blog every single even asking random things on anon. And when you tag something soft like ‘this made me think of him’, he goes quiet for the rest of the night. Then whispers, “You know I think of you all the time, right?”

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒌𝒆 (심재윤)

He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

“You have a Tumblr? What do you post?? Aesthetic pictures? Writing? Memes??” Jake is so supportive. He sits next to you on the couch and asks to scroll through it. He points at every cute post and goes, “That’s so you.” You’re waiting for the moment he finds the more… thirsty ones, but Jake? He just giggles. “So you think I’m ‘a walking sunshine Greek statue with puppy energy’? I love that.”

He starts sending you photos of himself like:

“This could be one of your vibe pics.” And if you reblog a quote post that says something like “I just want to be loved gently,” he’ll literally send you a message that says: “You deserve that. And I’ll give you all of it, okay?” Jake’s the Tumblr boyfriend who doesn’t even have Tumblr—but lives in your inbox like a tag.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 (박성훈)

Pretends to be above it. “Tumblr is like… for 2013 emos, right?” he quips in a half-joking manner, outwardly dismissive of the whole thing. But don’t be fooled.Sunghoon secretly maintains his own shadow profile, where he reblogs dark academia fits and moody sunset gifs on nights he can’t sleep-which is often. Whenever you post even a hint of thirst about him, his cool façade softens ever so slightly, and he smirks, teasing, “You spelled ‘hot’ wrong. Should’ve said ‘ethereal god.’” The layered vulnerability behind his cool jokes reveals that, despite his airs, he’s deeply invested in every soft, fleeting reference you make.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 (김선우)

“YOU HAVE A BLOG? What’s the username. I want the theme. Is it cute? Am I your header Image?!” He immediately pulls it up and starts judging…lovingly. “Okay wait… why is your header blurry? This gifset is so you. OH this post?? I reblogged that yesterday!” You two end up becoming mutuals on Tumblr and in real life. He tags you in “bf ang gf aesthetic” gifs and makes you matching layouts.

Then he sees your post that says, “I wish he knew how much I care.” He goes quiet for a second and just looks at you.

“I do. Know, I mean.” And when he sees you post something like “I love his smile more than anything”? He replies out loud like: “Yeah? I love yours too. Should I write that on my blog?”

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑤𝑜𝑛 (양정원)

Judging you gently but with love. “You’re telling me you write entire essays about fictional people’s emotional trauma and call it slight angst?” he muses with a gentle smile, initially puzzled as he browses through your detailed posts. Jungwon’s reaction is equal parts mild judgment and soft fascination. At first, he can’t quite grasp the depth of your Tumblr musings, but before long, he’s three hours deep into your tagged “love tropes” posts, nodding along in quiet understanding. Finally, having soaked in every word and image, he leans in and sends you random quotes like, “This reminded me of you. Put it on your blog or whatever.” His quiet support speaks volumes;he respects your feelings and art, even if he pretends it’s all just a quirky hobby.

𝑵𝑖–𝑘𝑖 (니키)

Laughs his entire soul out. “Nahhh, you’re one of them,” he laughs with a mischievous glint in his eyes, immediately taking your Tumblr revelations as a delightful challenge.

Ni-ki finds your blog absolutely hilarious and irresistible—so much so that he dives headfirst into your archive, meticulously scrolling through and capturing screenshots of everything you posted back in 2019, teasing, “You posted THIS in 2019? Embarrassing and yet you dare to laugh at my old pictures.” underneath the playful ribbing.

he bookmarks all your posts tagged with his name along with cute symbols, keeping them close even if he’ll never openly admit how much they mean to him. His laughter echoes with a mix of teasing and a secret admiration that he’ll never fully confess.

♡)-- @orimuraa @douqhnxtss @chrrific @liwinly @fleuryns @leaderwon @pnghoon

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freakyfrye · 11 months ago

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ᝰ. 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔢𝔰

requested ( @cartoonykat ) : alastor, angel dust, husk, lucifer, charlie & vaggie, vox, adam, sir pentious x gn! reader (separately), they’re having a moment (or romantic date) but it’s interrupted/ruined by someone or something

type: scenarios

content: domestic, fluff, slight crack, bunch of smitten sinners, swears, angle dust bad ass reader s/o, val mentioned thrice cause he’s annoying ash (but he will be added to the blog soon), vox’s kind of a whiny baby but it’s hot (?¿), brief luci vs alastor bit

note: this took a while. ngl because, honestly, alastor and luci had me stumped — also some may be longer than others, what can I say? give inspiration where it’s due

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯

It's rare to see Al anywhere but the heir Morningstar Hotel, whispering over her shoulder like the villain you know him to be. Yet, even he needs a break from the chaos. Strangely enough, for someone who loathes any form of physical touch, he always shows up on your doorstep like clockwork by the end of the week.

Your mornings are routinely filled with melodic tones that stir you awake. The air is thick with the scent of powdered sugar beignets, which only he can make, and the aroma of the finest coffee beans you worked hard to procure because you knew how much he enjoyed them.

He's busy working on something when you creep up behind him, hearing him hum along to his favorite jazz song. Always the jolly fellow with the wickedest mind, he seems at peace for once, even when you audaciously wrap your arms around his waist from behind.

In the past, he would have tensed up and demanded an explanation through clenched teeth. Instead, he now leans into your touch as you lay your head on his back. “Mornin’ Al.” you’d greet muffled, breathing in his scent.

He hums softly, wiping his hands on a cloth before turning towards you, his grin devilishly relaxed. "Well, well, good morning, mon cher. Hope I didn't stir you with all my shufflin'."

You open your mouth to assure him that wasn't the case when, within the next second, there's a loud boom from your far wall and debris flying around your kitchen. When the dust clears, you both stare blankly at a large hole in your wall. You're lost to what's happening when a figure steps through, glaring at Alastor with intense hatred.

"What—Who?" you ask, looking from him to Al, whose smile is tense. "Is this one of your enemies?" you deduce, realizing he must be, since he wasn't here for you.

Alastor blinks before turning towards you, smiling proudly. "Who could tell?,” he jokes, “It's a difficult task to keep track when you're the most hated demon in hell."

“You gonna handle that?” you ask, staring up at him, a frown on your face.

You didn't have to ask twice; he was already pulling away from you, though he didn't appear as cheerful as one might expect when heading off to handle his business.

“And fix my wall when you’re done, Alastor.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩 𝕯𝔲𝔰𝔱

It was clear that Angel hadn’t been himself lately. Whether it was the strain from Valentino’s demands or dealing with Charlie and her redemption shenanigans, the reasons were irrelevant. It did bother you and concerned you that he wasn’t confiding in you about whatever was troubling him, though.

But you weren’t going to press him, adding to his burdens. Instead, you decided to show your support: tidying up your place, setting the table, adjusting the lighting, and spending the entire day preparing his favorite Italian dishes. They weren't quite as perfect as his mama's, but you knew no one could match her cooking.

As evening arrived, you finally invited him over, knowing he wouldn’t be free until this hour, dealing with Val’s big head. Greeting him at the door with a kiss, you noticed his tired gaze soften as he returned the gesture. Leading him inside, he gradually perked up, taking in the atmosphere you had carefully set.

By the time he sits at the table, he's lively, smiling like a kid in a candy store as he pours both of you a glass of Roscato wine. “Wow, baby, all this for me?” he asks with a bashful charm, his eyes slightly hooded as he swirls the wine in his glass, chin resting on the back of his hand.

“No,” you begin joking, “this is for the guy after you—don’t eat it all, alright? Leave some for him.”

Angel chuckles, setting down his glass to pick up his fork. He scoops up some fettuccine, then leans forward and offers it towards your mouth. "I think ya runnin’ that pretty mouth a lil too much, sweet cheeks. We both know there ain’t no competition."

Before you can bite back something naughty, his hellphone chimes repeatedly in his pocket. A weighty silence falls over both of you as he reluctantly sets down his fork and retrieves it, his brow furrowing deeply at the messages displayed on his screen. He looks to you from his phone before sighing and rising from his seat.

You raise your hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Wait. Hold on! Where do you think you're off to?" you demand, scrutinizing him suspiciously.

He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he gestures with his hands while explaining, "I'm sorry, sugar. It's Val. He needs me. I gotta go—"

"Sit your ass down," you bark, your mood souring. Angel does a double-take, and you continue, "I planned this day perfectly—slaved away to cook these loving dishes for you—and that man-child was not part of the picture. If he wants my man, he better come and pry me away from you."

Angel quickly considers his options. Ignoring Val usually ends in trouble, but ignoring you feels worse than anything Val could inflict—especially since you're somehow scarier and hotter than him. Plus, he knows you can handle yourself, a skill you demonstrated long before you two got together. He makes his choice and sits back down. To hell with Val; dealing with him can wait.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕳𝔲𝔰𝔨

By the end of the day, exhausted from working tirelessly, all you wanted was to faceplant into your bed. But Husk was coaxing you to spend the night with him, mentioning relaxation and the allure of Hennessy. Honestly, if he had just said he wanted to see you, you’d be right over. No coaxing needed, but who’s gonna tell him?

As you stand outside his room door, it dawns on you that Husk may not even know what it means to relax. Sure, he's somewhat chill after a few drinks, but you've never seen him truly unwind since you've known him. You wonder what you’re in for when you knock on his door, waiting for him to answer.

A gravelly voice answers through the door, "Come in," then falls silent. You purse your lips in confusion and twist open the door, cautiously stepping inside. The room is dimly lit by candles, making it a bit challenging to see at first, but as your eyes adjust, you find him seated on a loveseat, staring at you intently.

"Yeah, not creepy at all," you mumble halfheartedly, dropping your bag on his bed before walking over to him. Your comment earns a tsk from him and a grumble under his breath, but nothing more. Yeah, this was definitely weird. “Who are you and what did you do with gumpelherekitty kitty?”

"Shut the hell up and come here before there's no liquor left," he bites, taking the bait with a small smile on his face as he watches you flop down beside him. An array of pillows behind you looks like clouds waiting to be drooled on, but instead of relaxing just yet, you lean in for a kiss.

A glass of Hennessy is placed in your hands as you pull away, the dark liquid resembling brown sugar but far from sweet. You judge the small amount and down it in one gulp, tilting your head back and letting out a hiss at the burn. It was well worth it, though.

Husk must have agreed because he took the glass from your hand to pour another. "Rough day, huh?" Instead of passing it back to you, he drinks it himself and then gently guides you back onto the pillows, placing your legs across his lap.

You groan, "You have no idea!" before pausing, recalling his own stressful situation. You send him a sympathetic smile, "Then again, you might." You watch as he shrugs, carefully removing your shoes one by one and placing them aside.

"Tell me about it," he says, grabbing one of your feet and starting to massage it, aiming to ease the soreness. "Your day, I mean. Or not." Despite his half-hearted objection, he looks at you expectantly, knowing you'll likely indulge him anyway. And you do—you recount how everything that could go wrong today did, venting about nasty customers and expressing relief to end the day with him.

That confession didn’t escape him; instead, he purrs softly at your words, his eyes grows hooded as his hand moves from your feet to your calf, rubbing gently. He starts to reply when his door bursts open, capturing both of your attention.

He stands up, your legs sliding off his lap as he reaches for his cards, but pauses at the sound of Nifty's sinister giggling and the frantic scraping on the floor. You both watch as she chases a large roach in circles for a few seconds too long before finally following it out the door.

"You people are strange," you comment after a long pause.

Husk sighs heavily through his nose, flopping back into his earlier spot and pouring himself and you a drink. "Tell me something I don't know, sweetheart.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕷𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯

You've been in the hotel long before he showed up. You were already making progress on your redemption arc to heaven. That was always the goal, but you never anticipated to fall for him. This complicated your plans, and he knew it. You wonder if that’s where his doting and overbearing behavior stems from; abandonment and guilt—the risk of both losing you and stopping you from enlightenment.

He often sweeps you off your feet and plans spontaneous outings, desperate to keep you close for as long as possible. It was romantic and considerate of him, just so him, but he didn't have anything to worry about. You wish you could tell him, when you realized it, that even in heaven, you'd fall just to be with him. But the relationship was still fresh so you opt in matching his energy.

The dopey smile he gave you after you guided him to the candlelit table adorned with handmade meals was worth it. You could visibly see his shoulders relax, as if a weight had been lifted. Ever the gentleman, he helps you sit before himself. The evening is filled with sweet nothings, laughter, and smitten glances.

Lucifer reaches across the table, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, planting a loving kiss on your knuckles. "Thank you," he expresses his gratitude as dinner comes to an end. But you had more planned for this night.

"I should be the one thanking you," you confess, causing him to raise a curious brow. You playfully reach over and nudge it back into place, eliciting a pout but no protest. Instead he chooses to lean more into your touch. "I haven't had this much fun since arriving in hell in years."

His devilish grin returns, his posture straightening as he half-heartedly feigns humility, failing halfway because how could he not when you're hyping him up? "Well, y’know, I try. How about we take a trip to Lulu world tomorrow? It's a blast—fully comp, of course, you’re dating the boss," he winks mischievously.

“Don’t you mean “loo loo land”?”

Lucifer shakes his head, waving his hands dismissively. "No—no no no, heavens no. That dreadful place shouldn’t exist in any of the 7 rings,” he sneers with disdain.

You nod, though not fully understanding, and rise from your seat. Lucifer, following your lead like a lost puppy, closes the distance between you. With a smile, you guide him by the sleeve to the center of the ballroom, wrapping your arms around his neck. "The night's far from over. Care to dance with me?" On cue, soft music gently fills the background.

He certainly does. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, swaying gently. His expression softens to one of peace. You playfully plant a kiss on his nose before resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in contentment. They open not even a minute later when the music abruptly stops, gaining both your attention.

You know where the music box is, assuming it malfunctioned but you're surprised to see Alastor standing there, observing you both. Once your attentions on him, he casually addresses everyone in the room, "Oh, my sincerest apologies. Am I interrupting something?" his smile widens at the growl that rumbles from Lucifer chest.

"You’re still here?" Lucifer grumbles, holding you closer, clearly annoyed by the interruption, especially because of who it was.

This earns a deep chuckle from Alastor, “Well, of course. Charlie’s had her fill of parental figures abandoning her, wouldn’t you say, sir?”

“What did he say?!” Lucifer turns towards you for confirmation.

"Anywho, I came to inform you both that a hotel meeting has been called. You know where," Alastor adds, then starts up the music again before disappearing into the shadows.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔢 & 𝕮𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔢

Redemption this, redemption that. That's all Charlie ever talks about, with Vaggie always backing her up. Sure, you support her too, but it gets annoying when it consumes all their time, leaving very little for the three of you to nurture your relationship. It was seriously irritating the heck out of you. Having two girlfriends but neither showing you affection like the good old days.

They probably caught on to the problem after enduring your snappy, sarcastic comments and watching you bail on redemption exercises for the nth time this week. With enough silent glances exchanged between them, they realized they had to do something. The following week, they lead you to a romantic picnic in the hotel's garden. You didn't even know the garden existed.

It was surprisingly sweet, especially for a setting in Hell—maybe even slightly cheesy. A white lace blanket was spread across the ground, with a silver tray of desserts of all kinds adorned with rainbow flag toothpicks. Beside it was a black heart-shaped picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers.

There was champagne with smiley faces on the bottle and plates with quirky little sandwiches that you were sure Charlie had tried to make. A gothic black umbrella stuck out from the ground, purpose of shielding you all from the hot sun.

Before you could say anything—not that there was much to say, as you were frankly speechless—Charlie and Vaggie pulled you to sit with them. Vaggie wore a soft smile, while Charlie beamed with eagerness.

"We’ve noticed you’ve been a little snippy lately,” Charlie starts, her expression shifting to one of guilt and sympathy. She tightens her hold on you, pulling you closer to her side. “I’m so, so sorry, sweetie. I’ve been so focused on the guest that I’ve neglected both you and Vaggie.”

“I carry some of the blame too,” Vaggie chimes in. “I was so caught up in making sure the hotel ran smoothly and keeping everyone safe that I forgot about the people who matter most to me.”

Charlie’s hands travel down your arms to hold yours in hers. “Can you forgive us? We really didn’t mean it.”

“Of course we didn’t,” Vaggie adds, placing her hands on top of Charlie’s. “We love you so much.”

You bite your lip, glancing between their faces as guilt starts to eat at you because of their words and romantic gestures. “Fuck…” you groan, pouting and closing your eyes. “I’m such an asshole.”

Charlie shakes her head. “No, you’re sweet for wanting time with us,” she says, batting her lashes. “We want time with you too.” She leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Vaggie leans in for a kiss, but just then, someone stumbles into the garden, interrupting the moment.

“Charlie!” Lucifer exclaims, zeroing in on her before finally noticing the surroundings, including Vaggie and you. “Oh—uh, haha,” he chuckles nervously, “I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?” He slowly starts to back away. “I’ll just find you later, sweetie! Enjoy your date.”

Just as quickly as he stumbled in, he’s gone. Charlie gives you both an apologetic smile before you all resume your date.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔬𝔵

Opportunity didn’t always come knocking, but you must have one hell of a lucky streak to go from being Vox’s assistant by day to his lover by night. As his assistant, you saw how swimmingly put together Vox always was—after all, the cameras were always rolling if you were one of the Vees.

There was never a moment he wasn’t on top of things, keeping everything in check and everyone in line. Of course, the best times were when Alastor wasn’t involved. But now Alastor is back, and he’s even more of a pain in his side than Vox remembered. Just when Vox was on top of the world, now he’s glitching out at the very thought of that vermin.

Surprisingly, he kept it together in front of almost everyone. But when the clock strikes midnight, he clocks out and heads to his fancy penthouse where you're currently curled up on the couch, waiting for him. His expression instantly shifts to a tired smile as he walks over to you, and you open your arms for him.

He flops all his weight onto you, burying his face in your chest with a low groan. You purse your lips, wrapping your arms around his upper back and kissing his head. Cooing, almost babying him, you ask, “Had a rough day, sugar?” You wouldn’t know since your shift ended hours before his. He grumbles inaudible into your chest.

Tsking, you shake your head. “I can’t understand you when you do that.”

After a moment, he reluctantly pulls away just enough to glance up at you. “That smiling freak… fuuuck…” he mutters before snuggling back into your chest.

There was only one freak who smiled like he had carved it into his cheeks. Why are you not surprised? Sighing, you ask the million-dollar question, “What did he do now?”forcing him to look up at you fully. Perhaps the better question is what doesn’t he do? He can so much as breathe in Vox’s direction and it pisses him off.

“That shitty fuck is tanking my ratings,” Vox begins ranting. “Yesterday, they were down 2 percent. Today, they’re down 7 percent. 7 PERCENT!”

Tilting your head, you frown. “How do you know it’s him? Alastor doesn’t like electronics.”

Vox narrows his eyes down at you as he rises from on top of you, sparks flying from his hands. “Are you seriously defending that asshole right now?!” he asks, his voice strained with disbelief.

“Of course not! What the hell, Vox? I was just stating the obvious.” Here he was, getting insecure again. Seriously, why even mention Alastor around him?

"Fuck your obvi-" Vox is cut off by the ringing of his phone. Velvet's name and photo pop up on his screen. Blinking, you wait to see if he's going to answer, but he declines the call. "—ous bullshit. You’re riding his dick more than mine."

Hunky hunky hunky.

She calls again, and this time Vox answers, zapping the call to the main screen in the living room. “What is it, Velvette? I’m in the middle of—” his screen glitches, his voice turning to static, “—something.”

"What the fuck do you think? He’s at it again, throwing a fucking tantrum over that spider whore," Velvette barks through the screen, her accent heavy with annoyance. "Handle it. I’m busy," she adds, then hangs up.

After the call, silence fills the room before he turns to you, his charming grin returning. “This conversation isn’t over,” he says, his words carrying a double meaning. Still, he leans over to give you a kiss on the lips before he leaves.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔡𝔞𝔪

Lately, he's been acting strange. You weren’t sure what it was, but each time he comes down to visit you from heaven, he becomes more and more affectionate. At first, you thought he was teasing you, giving you just enough to keep you yearning and then pull back; let you sweat in want—but that never happened. It didn't click in your head until today, after he grudgingly confessed because—

“What the fuck??” you blink owlishly at your bathroom door. But the door isn’t the issue; it’s the noise coming from outside it. Lowering your thriller book, you place it on the toilet seat before rising from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around yourself, and exiting the bathroom.

You're glad to know you weren’t losing your mind, and were in fact hearing correctly. There was indeed a noise, more defined now—an instrumental tune growing louder towards your bedroom. Except, it wasn’t coming from inside your bedroom come to find out but outside your window.

Opening it, you peek over the sill, and your mouth drops. Standing there, looking up at you with an acoustic guitar in his hand, is Adam, with a bouquet of red roses lying at his feet.

“Adam…?�� you stutter out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”

His fingers pause on the guitar strings, and he grins. "Fucking finally, babe, I've been standing out here for 10 minutes," he says as he slides the guitar onto his back. He then bends down to pick up the roses and waves them at you. "I brought you flowers."

"…for what?" you bluntly ask, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. Adam doesn’t do kind gestures—none that you know of—and he certainly doesn’t play acoustic guitars. He claims they're for pussy-whipped douchebags.

He scoffs, lowering it to his side with a shrug, “There has to be a reason?”

You chuckle, raising a brow. "That's how it works, dummy… why did you stay out there for 10 minutes? Just use the front door." Shaking your head, you duck back inside the window to close it and start getting dressed. You're halfway through putting on your pants when Adam barges into your room, tossing the guitar onto the bed.

He walks over to you, checking you out with a sultry smirk. "Are you struggling to fit into your pants?" he asks, before shaking his head as if to focus, adding and shoving the flowers at you, "I heard mortal bitches love this shit."

You finish buttoning your pants while juggling the roses, then sigh loudly and close the distance, pecking him on the lips. "What? Flowers being shoved at them and terrible music. Stick to electric guitars, Adam. It’ll get you laid more." you say sarcastically, pulling away and chuckling. “Acoustics are for pussy-whipped douchebags, remember?”

“Well, yeah, obviously!” Adam follows after you, scratching his head. “I’m talking about me serenading you and giving you flowers… It’s a romantic gesture or whatever… right?” He sounds unsure himself.

You whirl around to face him, pursing your lips as you try to figure out how to word what you’re going to say next without sounding too harsh. "Okay… what the actual fuck is going on with you? You haven’t been yourself the last few weeks, and this is starting to really weird me out."

Adam draws back, his lips forming a tight line before he utters, "Uhhh…" and averts his eyes. "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about." Then, within seconds, he's back to his upbeat self, pulling you towards him by your hips. "You’re fucking hot. Who wouldn’t wanna get in your pants?"

You shake your head, removing his hands and crossing your arms as you stare pointedly at him. It's a silent staring contest for three minutes before he caves in with an annoyed groan. His shoulders tense up as he grumbles, "Fine, fuck. You can be so annoying when you want to be…"

When he doesn't get a reaction from you, he spills the beans, pacing around the room. "Some losers up in Heaven said I wasn't romantic. Me. I'm like, No fucking way, I'm the first dick. Nobody knows how to make bitches fall harder on it!" He scoffs, slouching in place. "Those little fuckers laughed in my face."

You sigh, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "So you came here to prove a point?" He nods, and you continue, "For the first man, you can be pretty stupid. I’m in Hell, who’s going to know? And secondly, I don’t need all this—it’s cute, but you can be sweet in your own Adam way, not this poser crap."

"Well, shit, fuck. Wish I knew that before wasting my break on this instead of fucking the breath outta you," he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I guess I'll just have to make up for it next time."

“Well you better hurry up. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you come back to me.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕾𝔦𝔯 𝕻𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰

When you were alive, your dating life was less than healthy and filled with constant disappointment. Your friends called it toxic, but you’d always reply that you only live once. So what if your typical lover was the stereotypical bad boy? Red flags never looked better on anyone. Besides, red was your favorite color.

Ending up in Hell with the life you led was no surprise. You thought you’d keep up the same lifestyle—getting plastered and starting fights with assholes—but somehow you wound up in a crappy hotel after the princess of Hell saw "potential" in you. But what left you even more baffled than potentially spending the rest of your stay in hell there was falling for a simp of a man.

A true gentleman from a different era than yours has you questioning where someone like him was hiding out in your past life. And if you had come across someone like him back then, would you have even given him the time of day if you weren’t being cooped up in a raggedy hotel? Highly unlikely but you’re glad you found him now, while on the road of redemption together.

You may have become sappy enough to tell him that whenever you both had alone time to breathe each other in, much like now. Watching as a heavy blush dusts across his face, his eyes glossing over with devotion, his tail swishing behind him, and his hands fidgeting. Man, he gets more adorable day by day.

“I—” he pauses to gather himself before continuing, “Well, I feel the sssame way, dear!" Sir Pentious always exclaims, suddenly grabbing your hands in his and adding, "In fact, I have sssomething for you. To sshow how much I value our time together…" His voice trails off bashfully.

Biting your lip with a grin, you coo at him, “You made something for me, baby? What is it?” You start making guesses, “Is it a little gadget that protects me? That’s sweet, but I don’t need that. I’m plenty strong on my own.”

“Oh, I know what you’re capable of, my beloved!” he bellows proudly. “Thisss is different. SSsomthing personal, for me and for you… I hope you’ll like it.” He turns away, digging into a bag you only just noticed. When he turns back around, in his hand is something you didn’t expect but also makes sense: an egg.

You eye it curiously, “Pen. Are you gifting me an egg?”

“Yesss... but not just any egg. Our egg,” he says, his hood flattening and eyes growing doe-eyed.

“Wait, what?” you tilt your head, now confused. Last time you checked, you didn't go egg hunting with him and—your eyes bulge out when realization sets in. “Heavens sake, Pen, did you-did you lay an egg?” You thought sinners couldn’t have children…

He shakes his head erratically. “Sssatan’s no. I created this one for us to—" He pauses to take a deep breath, closing his eyes. “To raise together,” he finishes, opening his eyes enough to peek at your reaction. He opens them fully after seeing you smiling.

“That’s the sweetest fucking gift anyone has ever gave me.” you open your arms for him, “Come here, baby.”

Delighted at your reaction, and never one to turn down physical invitations from you, he slithers over towards you. But in the moment of excitement, as he opens his arms to reciprocate, the egg slips through his hands and splats to the floor.

“Oh my God, Pen!” you shout horrified as he drops to the floor, mouth open in utter disbelief.

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jillsandwhichs · 7 months ago

Text

Beer and Sex

Chapter 6 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You, Joel and Tommy are at an event in Austin that includes being outdoors, drinking & games! Well, long story short, you and Joel end up heading back to his place for some indoor fun

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Friends

WC: 3.0k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: No outbreak (AU), Usage of alcohol, Buzzed sex, Dirty talk, Making out, Breast play, Living room sex, You ride Joel, Unprotected sex, Choking kink, Clit rubbing, Denial of orgasm, doggy style & you ride him

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

You sat back down whilst laughing. Picking your beer back up, you sipped it and put it back down. You haven't drinken in a while, it's nice to finally do it again. You're usually so busy with work that you never have the time or energy to get some alcohol in your system. Your friends Joel and Tommy convinced you to go with them to this event in town though and when you saw there were drinks, you couldn't refuse.

The only reason Joel and Tommy are here is because Maria is hosting this event. She's very big with the city council and hosts events like this from time to time. You don't mind coming. You're actually enjoying yourself. Just a bit ago you were playing darts with Joel and then tether ball with Tommy. You're slightly buzzed too. You can't get full blown drunk though, you need to still drive home.

As you watched some of the younglings run around and play, you felt the weight of the table increase as Joel sat down. It's a muscular man. He weighs a good bit. "Hey." You said in a friendly tone. "Hello." He replied, sipping his tall boy. "You got another one? Shit, don't make me go get another one too, I still have to drive home." You joked, resting your head in your hand. Joel chuckled. "My house is just a few blocks away and I walked here so I ain't even bothered." Joel stated.

That's right, he lives in the suburbs. That's not something you'd expect from a country boy like him. Then again, being country is defined by where you live. "Where did Tommy and Maria go?" "No fuckin' clue," Joel snickered, "Probably fuckin' in the bathroom or something." He teased. You laughed and nodded. "They are newly weds, what can you expect?" You said whilst giggling. Joel nodded. "True that."

Joel was once married, he even had a daughter with the woman. Joel has been single for years now though. Everyone jokes he's out of commission but he just says he's waiting for the right lady. Sarah, his daughter, is almost twelve. She's getting older and cuter by the second. You've met her quite a bit, even babysat her, she's a dear. Joel told you she's with her mother right now, so he's free.

"At least Maria is getting some. It's been a good few months for me." "Months? Try years darlin' and it ain't by choice." You cackled at his words. He isn't wrong. He's celibate from what you've heard. "Sorry Joel, that has to suck." "It sure fuckin' does." He took a shot of his beer. You nodded and sipped off of yours too. The beer was getting warm. Gross. You sighed deeply. "I'm going to go get a new beer, I'll be right back."

You stood up and headed towards the cooler. This cooler was brought by Tommy himself. He decided to provide it for everyone. It's the good stuff too. You bent over and picked up a new one. It was ice cold to the touch. "Hell yeah." You murmured, cracking it open. You're currently wearing a black tank top and short jean shorts. It's hot during the summer, you have to stay cool somehow.

When you turned around, you saw that Joel's eyes were on you. He looked like he was trying to play it off as if he wasn't just checking you out but he totally was. You can't lie, you've checked him out too. Those big muscles and that handsome face are a sight for sore eyes. He's a hottie, admittedly. You giggled and sat back down beside him.

"You were totally just checking me out, weren't you?" You said with a laugh, tipping your beer into your mouth and drinking it all while looking into his brown eyes. He snorted and nodded. "You caught me." Oh, so he was? You don't mind. You knew Joel would be there and that did somewhat take part in what you're currently wearing.

You've always thought he was sexy. The day Tommy introduced you to him you though that. That was only two years ago. Your guy's friendship has been great but you're awfully surprised the two of you haven't hooked up yet. You've definitely flirted and hit on one another. You've even went as far as to having him lick salt off of your stomach before taking a shot of tequila and that had you soaked.

It is very surprising.

"But you can't deny you were checkin' me out earlier." Joel whispered to you with a husky voice. You giggled. "Guilty as charged. You've also caught me red handed." This isn't just the beer talking. You totally were. When he was putting the cooler down earlier, you were indeed gawking at his veiny, buff arms. You giggled and bit your lip while looking up at him. "How drunk are you?" You asked him. "Not drunk enough." You rolled your eyes at his words.

You looked around the area. You still have no clue where Tommy and Maria are. "I'll shoot him a text. Let's get out of here." He whispered to you. You scoffed and breathed in deeply. "Alright." You giggled. He got off of the picnic table and took your hand in his, helping you out of the table as well. You smiled at him. Your guy's hands stayed interlocked. Is this actually going to happen? Are you going to fuck Joel Miller? After all this time?

"My house ain't too far from here." Joel said to you in a deep voice. "I know." You smiled, walking alongside him. You don't feel drunk. You do feel buzzed. It isn't anything you can't handle. You're a heavy weight. It takes you time to really hit the drunk point. The trees around you and Joel brought you two shade, but you're already too hot, in more ways than one. He looked down at you and chuckled. "I can't wait to fuck you." He admitted. You huffed out. "Good." You bit your lip to hold back a big grin.

You glanced over your shoulder. You hope no one will wonder where you two are. You'd rather keep this between you and Joel for now. "Will we come back once we're done?" "We'll have to, I left my goddamn brother back there." You laughed loudly. "That is true... He'll be fine, right?" "He's a grown man, he's fine. Like I said darlin', I'll text him." You nodded. You just don't want them to come looking for the two of you.

You'd rather not be in the middle of getting fucked when Tommy and Maria show up.

As Joel opened his front door and locked it behind him, he chuckled and grabbed you, smashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back. His messy beard scraped against your face. "Mmph." You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck. He picked you up into his arms like you were a feather. You giggled and continued to kiss him. His hands were on your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he took you two to the living room area.

"Baby?" "Hmm?" "Bedroom or living room?" You snorted at his question. At least you get a say in this. You thought for a moment. "Let's keep it fun-living room." "Glady." Joel smirked, kissing you again but this time, his tongue found it's way into your mouth. You didn't mind. It made you even more horny. Your guy's tongues fought for dominance. You wanted to explore every crevice of his mouth. You moaned loudly as he sat you down on him. You could feel his erection through his stained work jeans.

You giggled and kissed him before reaching your hands down to the end of your tank top and pulling it off. Joel just stared in admiration. He thinks you're gorgeous. "Look at you," He purred, "You're beautiful." He whispered. You grinned. "You're handsome, and so sexy." You spoke seductively before licking his lower lip and kissing him again. His hands went to your tits, he squeezed them gently. Joel is more of an ass guy though.

After making out for a little bit, Joel finally pulled away to take deep breaths. "I'm fuckin' twitchin'." He sighed deeply, looking down at his bulge. You think that's the sexist thing ever. You love when a man is vocal about how he feels or what you're doing to him. "I'm so wet for you, wanna feel?" You whispered against his ear. Joel's breath shuttered. "Badly." And his hands went to your shorts, undoing them and helping you out of them as well.

Stepping out of your shorts, you climbed back into Joel's lap and sighed. "Feel." You whispered, kissing his neck and jawline. Joel brought his finger down to your core and pulled your panties to the side. As he dipped his fingers through your folds, he let out a low groan. "So fuckin' wet, just for me, hm?" He whispered, nibbling on your jawline. You giggled. "Just for you." This surely isn't the first time you've gotten wet thinking about Mr. Joel Miller.

Joel swiped his fingers through your folds, picking up all of your juicy wetness. You continued to kiss him. He seemed desperate, like a wild animal. He's hungry for you. You bit his lower lip and once again swiped your tongue along his. You moaned so quietly, it was more of a whimper.

He pulled his finger away and grunted. "Need to feel you from the inside." He murmured as he pulled his cock out of his jeans. Oh yeah, he's big. You're excited. It's been so long, especially for him. You hope you're as good as he'll be to you. Grabbing his member, you yourself pulled your white panties to the side before you then sat down on his dick. Both of you made sensual noises as your folds and cunt enveloped him. He was already so deep inside of you. It feels so good.

"How's that?" You chuckled, your arms around his neck. He snickered and gripped your ass tightly, landing a smack onto it which caused you to jolt slightly. "You feel so good. Now fuckin' ride me." He began to squeeze and slap your ass and you started to ride him. You went slow at first. Your movements were just simple grinds back and forth but you'd occasionally lift your ass up and back down, literally bouncing on his cock.

You wanted to savour this. You haven't felt this good in awhile. Having sex with Joel tonight was not on your agenda of plans but seriously, it is a welcomed surprise. He feels amazing. He knows what he's doing too. Each time he pinches your ass cheeks or spanks you playfully, it either makes you moan or kiss him even harder and more passionately.

Now, Joel is holding your hips. You began to ride him faster too. His dick is so deep inside of you, you can hardly believe it. "I've wanted this for a long time." You moaned out, looking him in the eyes. His eyes got darker and even more full of lust. "Me too babygirl, me too." He then swatted your ass again before going back to squeezing your hips. You're sure you'll have red marks all over your cheeks by later in the evening.

Bouncing on him, each thrust was just a mark bringing you closer to your climax. His member is deep inside of you and is shoving itself against your tight walls with each movement. "Yes baby." He groaned, kissing and licking your neck. He thinks you smell amazing. You did put on your perfume before going to the event. You're glad it's doing it's job.

"Babygirl, turn around, cowgirl, y'know?" You giggled at his words. "Yes sir." You teased and lifted yourself off of him slightly to turn around. You were surprised he asked you to switch positions, but you aren't complaining. You pushed yourself down onto his dick again and you both made whimpering noises. He seems to be feeling good. That's all you want. It's been years for him, you better make it good.

Once you got comfortable, you moaned loudly as he started to thrust up into you. "Joel!" You practically screamed, tossing your head back against his broad shoulder. He cackled and kissed your neck, leaving numerous bites and hickies onto it too. How are you supposed to go into work on Monday? You're sure these'll last a few days, hopefully not. "Need to make sure I still got it." Joel grunted, now he is the one fucking you and man, it's heaven.

Joel noticed your head was still tilted back against his shoulder. He smirked. He brought his left hand up to your neck and held it, choking you now. You moaned and turned your head slightly, kissing his messy hair and giggling. "You're so deep inside of me." You panted. "Yea? You're takin' it so fuckin' well too baby." Joel replied, kissing your cheeks numerous times, making you smile and chuckle.

His free hand, his right one, was one your lower stomach, holding you in place. You wanted to look down to see him moving inside of you, but you couldn't. With his hand on your neck, there's not much you can do with your head. You aren't complaining. You think it's hot to be choked. He does it so well too. "Been thinkin' about fuckin' you for awhile now," He whispered against your ear. His breath was warm. "You feel better than I ever could've imagined." That made you whimper in pleasure.

You felt his right hand slither down from your waist and to your clit. You whimpered. "Oh God!" You whined out as he began to rub your clit fast and with pressure. It felt so good. He works well with his fingers. He continued to thrust up into you, which made the experience a million times better. "I'm gonna cum." You whispered to him. "No baby, not yet, hold it in." What!? How are you supposed to just hold it in? "What?" "You heard me babydoll." He licked behind your ear and bit on your lobe. "Do not cum yet." He sternly stated.

"How?" "Just do it."

How are you supposed to hold back your orgasm? No hookup has ever asked you to hold it back. Actually, they need you to cum quickly or else they'll finish before you. You whimpered and bit your lip. No, you're going to cum. "I can't," You panted, "I just can't." Joel didn't respond. "Joel!" You moaned out, reaching your hand behind his head and tugging on his hair. He grunted and bit down on your neck.

"Cum for me."

That was it. You moaned softly as you coated his cock in your fluids. You let go of his hair. Shaking in his lap, Joel continued to rub your clit until you came down from your high. It overstimed you even. "Holy Christ." You moaned. You went to turn your head to kiss him but he lifted you up and chuckled. "I still haven't finished." He then pushed you down onto the couch, doggy style, and began to pound into you.

You moaned loudly and gripped the couch beneath you. Your knuckles even went white. He moved so skillfully inside of you. Each pump was one of excellence. "Wish I could cum inside of you." He whispered, running his hands up and down your back before he ultimately rested them on your rear. Joel gripped your ass, squeezing it tightly before leaving multiple slaps onto it, all of which made your moan or squeal.

With just a couple more thrusts, Joel finished. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself. He finished all over your ass and lower back. "Fuck sakes." Joel groaned, caressing your ass as he came. You pushed your ass against his manhood and giggled. He spanked you again and snickered. "One sec." He leaned over and grabbed a random wipe, cleaning your ass and back off. He tossed the rag to the other side of the living room and you chuckled.

Joel heaved deeply and lifted you up by your waist and pulled you back into his lap. You were basically completely naked, only in panties whereas he was fully dressed. So unfair. "Was it good?" You asked him, resting your head against the arm of the couch. He glanced down at you, still breathing heavily. "You're a funny girl." He leaned down and kissed you softly. "It was fuckin' glorious." He then nibbed on your jawline, making you giggle cutely.

You hummed and looked up at him. "You're the only man whose ever denied me of finishing, by the way." You snorted. "That's because you've only done slept with boys who finish too quickly. I think it's sexy to see a woman be restricted of her pleasure." You giggled at his words. "It felt better." "That's the point babydoll." He caressed your cheek and you brought yourself closer to his face, kissing him gently.

He breathed in deeply and cupped your face firmly, holding you in place. "Don't convince me to fuck you again." He said with a smile against your lips. "If you can't handle it..." You bit your lip. You acted like you were about to get off of his lap and you suddenly squealed as he tossed you back onto the couch and put you in missionary. Your legs went over his shoulders and you smiled.

"Oh I think I can handle it."

That was where the next of many rounds began.

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #tlou2 #smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #tumblr fyp

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karlachismylife · 7 months ago

Note

Sometimes Soap whimpers and says thank you when reader let's him finish inside. That's all, I'll abscond with the wind now

You know who else absconded with the wind at the end of MWIII? :)))))))

CW: short smut, gn!bottom!reader, unprotected sex and breeding, mild dom/sub dynamic (subby Soap). NSFW, minors and ageless blogs DNI or I'll block you.

But yeah, of course you're right. He's being such a good boy, panting above you, dark eyebrows knitted together and glistening with sweat. He's picture perfect concentration, parted lips still swollen and wet after making out and going down on you - fucking beautiful he is, with his pupils dilated as if you're his personal acid overdose and muscles bulging as he puts his whole body on the altar of your pleasure.

His relentless pace is audibly wet - at least half of that is leaking from the swollen tip of his cock, pistoning in and out your tender walls. You're softened and pliant for him after two orgasms, sensations now muffled by your nervous system avoiding overstimulation - so it almost feels ticklish to have him grind against your sweet spots and tender skin.

Through the blissful haze sticking to your fluttering eylids you watch Johnny grit his teeth and stutter in his breath. It's a perfect opportunity to make it even harder for him, so you scrape his tense biceps holding his weight with your nails, leaving uneven pinkish traces, and reach to grab the sweat-drenched hair on the back on his head.

"Fuck, bonnie," you barely even tug, and his voice already cracks, straining with the rest of the body trying not to lose his rythm. "Ah'm close, Ah'm s-so- fuck, please, can Ah.."

"Wanna cum inside, yeah?" As much as you'd like to say you're holding up better than him, you sound just as breathlessly, groans bubbling up in your throat and interrupting your words. Soap still hears you - and whimpers a pathetic "mhm" into the crook of your neck, breathing through his nose loudly in a weak attempt to restore control over himself. "Yeah, o-okay, good boys are allow- oh fuck, please, Johnny, yes!"

He doesn't need more encouragement. Bracing himself for the last effort, he finally lets his eyes close shut, and as you fight for yours to stay open, you see that straight knot in his eyebrows shatter, both of them breaking into a pleading angle. His pace stutters too, shorter, erratic snaps of hips hitting your body, and in a few seconds you hear him whimper. It's a choked, pathetic sound, followed by several louder ones, as Johnny cums on the verge of sobbing into your neck. His whole body shudders, slowing down with the rutting, and he drops his forehead onto your shoulder completely, unable to keep down his sweet puppy noises cutting into the exhausted panting. It mixes with sloppy, chaotic kisses his searing lips and hot tongue leave all over your throat and jawline and a slurred flow of words melting together into one big whine.

"Ah, ha-ah, f-fuck, yes, thankyethankyethankye, bonnie, thank ye, Ah love ye, fuck!" Another, belated wave of aftershocks surges through him, forcing a high-pitched whimper out of him. Finally subsiding, Johnny collapses on top of you, pressing down with his whole weight and trapping you in a moist, hot, filled state.

"Good boy," you whisper, sliding your fingers down his sweaty back. When he shifts and nuzzles your shoulder, you can see almost every single hair in his wet brow, still raised pleadingly and twitching. "Made me feel so good. Maybe we'll do it again next time, yeah?"

You can feel his cock twitching deep in your cum-drenched hole. Yeah, the right motivation can get him to have this "next time" immediately.

#juju's replies #banana leaves #anon comrade #gave banana #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #cod #call of duty #smut #cod smut #x reader

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x--sinner--x · 5 months ago

Note

Another sleepless night, but what a blessing that I came across your blog.

Reading about your fantasies excites me and I would love to know more about them. 💚🦇

A bedtime story for you. 🤭

It's a quiet night. I'm sitting on the windowsill of the open window and looking out at the empty street. Feeling the cold night breeze on my skin while I enjoy the silence calms me down.

As I gradually get tired, I get ready for bed and it doesn't take too long before I drift off to dreamland.

A cracking sound tears me out of my sleep and I look around the room, but I can't see anything because of the darkness. When I realize that I may not have closed the window properly, panic rises in me and I want to get up.

But before I manage to get out of my bed, someone pushes me back onto the bed. I'm lying on my back as the person positions himself between my legs and fixes me with his body weight beneath him.

You press your hand on my mouth and you move closer to my ear.

"How careless not to close the window. Now be a good girl and be quiet." The sound of your deep voice makes me shudder and when I nod my head you remove your hand from my mouth.

You sit up a little and grab my shirt. I reach for your hands reflexively, but you don't let that deter you and pull my shirt up. When you grab my breasts and massage them roughly, a pained groan escapes me.

"Didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

"I'm s-sorry..." Before I could finish my sentence, I already felt pain on my cheek as you slapped me. Tears gather in my eyes and run silently down my cheek. Satisfied that I'm not making a sound, you continue.

When I notice you unbuckling your pants, I start to breathe harder, but I remain motionless.

You now pull my underwear aside and reach into your pants with your hand. Your penis appears and your hand moves up and down.

Then you spit between my legs and use your saliva as lubricant to rub your cock against my pussy.

It feels good when your tip repeatedly hits my clitoris, and ashamed, I look away and close my eyes.

When your cock is completely hard, you penetrate me with a powerful thrust.

I whimper in pain and bite my lip. You let your cock slide out, only to push it back into me again, its full length. You repeat this once more.

While you fuck me uninhibitedly, you press your upper body onto mine and the fabric of your top brushes against my bare breast.

Your hip movement speeds up and with one last thrust you squirt your hot semen into me. You leave your cock in me, stay lying on top of me and we stay in this position for a moment.

As soon as you pull out of me, your semen runs out of me and you put your hand to my entrance to wet your fingers with your semen. Then you put your fingers to my lips and without further instructions I open my mouth. While I lick your semen off your fingers, you tell me not to close the window next night and then you disappear into the night.

This is quite the bedtime story and it's really well written. I might have jerked off to it a few times. And I love getting these kinds of stories sent to me. These are lovely.

I want to bring things that happened here from my perspective:

I had been meticulously planning this for ages. I saw you on the street randomly and decided I wanted you. I followed you wherever you want, keeping a safe distance to make sure you have no idea someone is even following you.

I followed you for months, taking notes of your routine, your hobbies, the layout of your house and the surroundings. I found a unique pattern in your routine - every night you used to see the empty street from your bedroom window. You would just gaze into the vehicles going from and to, and somehow it made you feel peaceful. I was across the street that way, watching you as usual and getting sidetracked for a second from how beautiful you looked. I also caught a glimpse of your sleep outfit and that was enough to get so many filthy ideas into my head.

But you didn't realise you made a mistake. You let your window open and it was my lucky day. You had never missed to close it once in my astute observation of you for this long. But tonight you didn't. So, I had to be quick before you realized the window was open.

I quickly climbed into your building and rode the pipes all the way to your window. I saw you peacefully sleeping from outside the window and proceeded to jump in. But when I landed, the floor creaked a bit, causing you to wake up and I had to get the situation under control.

I hopped on your bed, pinning you in position with me on top of you. I immediately put my hand on your mouth to stop you from screaming, considering the open window. I advise you to stay quiet after mocking you for keeping your window open.

"I had been seeing you for months, and not once have you forgotten to close that window. What changed now? You wanted a big man like myself to break in that badly? You must be one naughty, naughty girl."

I took off gloves to touch you with my own fingers and I felt your hand move towards me in defiance, but I quickly pushed it away, regaining control of your body and pushed your shirt up. Your body squirming beneath me and those heavenly breasts was the sight of my dreams. I order you to stay quiet as my hands roam your pale body, feeling every piece of your skin with my fingers until they land on your breasts. I rub my fingers on them, gently squeezing them between my palms and rotating them. You couldn't help but moan - which ended in me giving a warning to stay quiet one more time. I slapped you hard in the face to reiterate myself.

You pretty much know what happened after that. I hope you remember what happened that night - because even if you think I'm gone, I'm still watching you from afar. Keep your windows open and I might give you another visit.

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acewritesfics · 2 years ago

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You Couldn't Wait That Long | JAY HALSTEAD

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Request: From Anon.

Prompt: "Say that again."

Warnings: Swearing. Established relationship.

Word Count: 924

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

©️ no one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my works on here or anywhere else.

"See you when you get back," Voight says over the phone before ending the call. Y/N places her phone back in her pocket as she makes her way back over to Jay.

"Voight wants us back at the district," she says as they clamber into his RAM truck. She fastens her seatbelt before removing her frozen gloves and holds her hands in front of the heater that is blasting hot air into the vehicle. As she warms up, her shivering and chattering teeth ease off. "How can it be any colder in Chicago? It's already below freezing."

"I told you we should have called in sick and stayed in bed all day," he recalls from their conversation as they lay in bed for an extra five minutes this morning, savoring each other's warmth.

"I'm sure Voight would have appreciated being two detectives short," she says, reminding him of why they couldn't. As much she loved the idea of spending the day curled up in bed with Jay, keeping warm in more ways than one, she is aware that Voight and the others would never believe that she and Jay are both sick.

"I was thinking that after shift, we order some food and crack open that bottle of wine your parents gave us," Jay suggests, smiling and tilting her head towards him. Before starting the drive back to District 21, he gently kisses her with his frosty lips.

As she watches him driving, she quips, "What are we celebrating?"

He responds, "Not having to go to work tomorrow and getting to spend the day in bed like we should have done today."

She smiles, turning her head to stare out the window, "That is something worth celebrating."

"I was thinking we could also talk about getting married," he says, prompting her head to jerk back to face him.

"Say that again," Is all she's able to say as she looks at him with wide eyes and a shocked look on her face. This was the first time that marriage was spoken between the two detectives, who had been dating for just over a year.

Y/N is convinced that Jay is the man she intends to settle down with, marry and have a family too. Jay has always been her person, even before they went on their first date. He wasn't just her work partner and boyfriend. He's her best friend and she couldn't imagine her life without him in it.

"We should get married," he says being more up front about it as he quickly glances at her before looking back out at the road.

"Right now?" she asks, unable to form any other words, still in shock.

"If Voight didn't need us back right away, I would marry you right now," he admits. "But I was thinking, give us a few months to plan an actual wedding and we get married then."

"You want to get married?" she asks, still processing his words.

"To you?" he asks rhetorically. "Fuck, yeah."

"Pull over!" she orders him, her voice coming out a little louder and more commanding than she anticipated.

"Are you okay?" he asks glancing at her quickly again, this time with a concerned look on worried face.

"Just pull over," she tells him, her voice much softer this time.

He indicates and pulls to the side of the road, only having a second to put the truck in park before her lips are attached to his in a passionate kiss. He reaches a hand behind her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, as he kisses back just as passionately.

Becoming breathless, they break the kiss but remain close, an inch barely between them as they look at each other lovingly. "If not right now, let's get married tomorrow."

"You don't want to plan a wedding?" he asks, massaging the back of her head, where his hand is still tangled in her hair.

"We can do that later," she says and bites the inside of her cheek waiting for his response.

"You really want to do it tomorrow?" he asks, making sure it's what she wants to do.

"Why wait?" she asks. "We both know this job is unpredictable, who knows what can happen in the next few months. But what I do know is that I want nothing more than to be your partner and your wife."

"I'll give Will a call and see what he's doing tomorrow," he smiles and kisses her once more. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replies kissing him back before moving back into her seat. Putting her seatbelt back on as he starts to drive again, she looks at him before asking, "So where's my ring?"

"In my locker," he tells her, looking sheepish as he bites his bottom lip.

"At work?" she asks surprised he had brought it with him.

"At the gym," he teases with a chuckle before adding, "Yeah, at work."

"Was this your plan all along? Propose to me while at work?"

"I was going to do it tonight but then I saw you all wrapped up in five jackets, 6 beanies and three pairs of gloves and I just knew I couldn't wait until then," he continues, teasing her about how many layers she's wearing to keep warm on Chicago's coldest day of the year.

"Maybe we should wait a year to get married," she teases back.

"You couldn't wait that long," he smiles and takes her hand in his, placing a soft kiss to the back of it.

TAGGED: LINK TO TAG LIST SIGN-UP ABOVE.

#acewritesfics repost #jay halstead x reader

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queenofthepunks · 2 months ago

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Sorta my first fanfic on this blog, as always I am NOT good at writing so BARE WITH ME!😭😭😭

Spot belongs to @wendigoruble so I hope you enjoy☺️❤️❤️❤️

TW⚠️: short detail on blood and violence

(Fluff/SFW and a tad bit of suggestive themes this will have mentions of Pup play but in a more lighthearted way)

The Bimbo and her Pup: Spot🐾🩵/ Peachy💋🩷

"Spot! catch that dirty broad! Tear that bitch apart!" Peachy shouted as she and the nude Dog Man stood In front of the reagent who was unfortunately about to met her demise. The very second Peachy let go of his leash he immediately charged towards the reagent, who had a look of fear and dread, and before she could run away to the shutter doors... it was too late, Spot immediately pounced on the girl using his knees to restrain her from escaping or harming him. He had her completely at his mercy like predator catching its prey.

his mask opened wide to where you could somewhat see his menacing smile as he breathly murmerd the words "Play" over and over again.

"No... p-please, NOO-" and before the reagent could even cry for help, Spots mask snapped shut on the reagents, his razor-sharp teeth digging into her whole face and cranium before aggressively wriggle his head with the reagents face locked into his mask like she was his new chew toy.

After she was now unconscious from the injury, extremely bloody and piereced with teeth marks, that was when he gnashed his teeth into her neck the long canines digging deep DEEP into her jugular. Peachy giggled mischievously as she heard everything that was going on a bit of relief that she could take a break from using Rabbia for a moment. She walked up to him as he finished mangling the reagent to death beaming sweetly yet keeping that mischievous smile on her face, showing off those shiny golden grills that fit hideously with her crooked and busted teeth.

"Mmmm, looks like you just turned that worthless Plaything into minced meat!" Peachy remarked before placing her hand on his head to pet him."and for that how about I give you a treat eh?"

Spots ears perked up just from hearing the word "treat" he began to move his hips to make his tail wag as he looked up at her with adoration in his eyes. "Treat!? Treeeeat!!! I'm gonna get a treaaaat!!!" Spot exclaimed with excitement before letting out happy panting swaying his hips a little faster to make his tail swing more swiftly.

Peachy giggled from his excitement that he wouldn't oblige to his reward. "Well, lead me to your treats, and I'll give em to ya since you seem to always misplace them." She said, letting out another giggle.

Spot trotted happily as he let out happy pants going "Treaaat Treaaat I'm gonna get me a good treat! Babydoll is gonna get me a treat!"

as he led her to her room a very pink bedroom with cracked and mildewed walls and different trinkets and extra clothes on the hot pink carpet that had small splatterd drops of blood.

(Imagine this but in typical outlast fashion, rundown, bloody, and extremely messy and a little low budget aswell)

After they've entered Peachy's sleeping quarters She began to walk ahead of Spot and trying to make her way towards her cracked open vanity mirror but as she walked towards it she immediately bumped into a vase with a dead palm tree on it.

"Ah... Owie!" Peachy murmured to herself while dusting herself off. "Don't think my mirror is ove- AHHH!" Peachy bumped into a pink armchair, almost causing her to tumble down. She then began to get frustrated from her clumsiness causing her to grumble to her self which could lead to her having a tantrum. "GOD DAMN IT why can't shit stay in its place I swear these asshol-"Before she could say anything, she felt Spot nuzzle the back of her leg with his mask from him, having service dog mode cranked up to 100 to make sure his human who is struggling with her visual imparement is safe.

"Careful Babydoll..." Spot said softly. "Don't like seeing you hurt yourself..."

Peachy nearly let out a squeak of warmth and affection just from her "canine" companion's loyal and protective nature. though she has managed fine on her own for years from her blindness and even her clumsiness it was quite nice to have someone look out for her since no one has ever done that for her even before being brought to the Sinyala Facility.

"Mmmmm, Puppy~...." Peachy cooed softly as she reached out to run her hand over his head. "I wouldn't have done it without ya..." Before getting sidetracked from being a little sappy, she snapped her fingers in response remembering what her original task was supposed to be.

"Oooohhhh that's right! We gotta get you a treat for being my good boy dont we?" Peachy exclaimed happily. "Just lead me to them and I'll give you one." Without hesitation, Spot began to nudge her at a quick pace due to yearning for the taste of those snickerdoodle cookies while also being careful not to trip her. After coming to a full stop he crouched infront of her having his prosthetics sit in besides both of her feet.

"Now tell me, where did you put your treats?" She asked him tilting her head to the side in a perky manner her glossy white eyes somewhat making eye contact with him."It's in the drawer of your vanity mirror Babydoll!" Spot beamed as he swished his hips around to make his tail wag feeling excited for his long awaited reward. "Do I have permission to get treats!? Do i? Do i?"

Peachy giggled once more from his excitement, making feeling of his swinging hips brighten up her mood even more. "Why yes, you do my Pup, go right ahead!" She said happily. "And remember to put them on this very hand! Got it? bark for me if you do."

Spot obediently let out a bark in response expressing that he fully understood her before he went back to happily panting."That's my good boy!" Peachy cooed while giving him a couple pats. "Now go ahead and bring em to me!"

"I'm your good boy I am your good boyyy!" Spot repeated in a playful tone while he went over towards the vanity drawer to get his treats though for a moment he did struggle to open it due to his lack of arms. So to compromise he used his mask to grip on to the knob of the small white drawer before giving it a slight tug and there in the draw lied his very own personal bag of snickerdoodle cookies. After he grabbed the bag of cookies from the inside of the drawer with his mask with a whole lot of effort he brought the bag over to Peachy obediently placing it in the open palm of her hand.

"There we goooo!" Peachy cooed. "Now move closer so I can have your leash..." without hesitation, Spot moved closer to her so she could grab ahold of leash guiding him in the middle of the room. As he got back on all fours with the help of his prosthetics that support his arms waiting for what tricks she's going to have him do, which is one of his favorite activities to do with her (and many of the other PA'S that work with him)

"Are you ready to do some tricks for me puppy?" Peachy asked in a lively tone as she had one hand on her hip and the other gripping the leash. Spot beamed with delight as he let out some happy pants from hearing the word "trick"

"Ohoho yes yes yes yes!" Spot exclaimed with excitement before he bend his upper half downwards with his butt in the air. "I wanna play I really really wanna play! Anything with the Babydoll!"

"Mmmm getting all giddy for your treats eh?" She remarked before letting out an amused chuckled. "Then how about we get started on your trick training... now sit..." she commanded her voice stooped to a more calm yet slighty stern tone. As Spot heard the seriousness in her voice he did what he was told and obliged to her command. placed his butt on the carpet he then lightly tapped her leg with the rod of his prosthetic expressing that he is sitting.

"Gooood... now remove the arms... and then lie down and roll over..." she said as she placed her foot outwards showing her stance of dominance. "And make sure to graze that smooth skin of yours on my pretty little pumps..." she was most definitely having fun with this.

Once again he obliged and plopped himself down on the carpet after he removed his prosthetics leaving his bandaged nubbed arms to be exposed, and with his whole body he rolled over going from his stomach and onto his back while he completely aimed for Peachy's foot, that's when he began to rub his back on the tip of her heel with that a long waited itch to be relieved which made him let out a few satisfied breaths. "That's my buddy..." Peachy cooed in a sweet tone her heart warmed at the feeling of Spots back nuzzling her foot. "Now sit back up..."

He obliged and sat back down on his knees, suddenly letting out some more breaths as Peachy got closer to him with that smirk on her face.Peachy than grabbed the cookie from the bag but kept it behind her back not wanting to give it to him yet for having one last request. "Now... open wide!" She said in a melodic tone.

He then opened the mouth of his mask open revealing his face on the inside which you could see his shit eating grin from the thrill of awaiting for his reward. As soon as Peachy grazed her hand over his opened mask she held the cookie up and into the inside of his mask to feed him the cookie which he immediately snatched the cookie into his mouth.

"Ahhhhh that's my good booooy!!!" Peachy exclaimed happily while letting out her signature squeak before running her fingers through his locks of black hair before her pets began to slow due to slight exhaustion.

She began to feel a bit tired after an extremely long day of being in trial, though she took alot of enjoyment of hearing Spot tear the reagents apart and her dealing with them, still didn't change the fact that the trials were pretty exhausting, her and the other PA'S could never get a break but at least this is her opportunity to spend it with her lovely companion who helped her alot during the trial.

She let out a long yawn as she stood back up placing her hands on Spots shoulders to steady herself. "Phew... this Babydoll is feeling very sleepy... how about we go and rest our heads, eh? It's been a pretty long day dealing with those shitbags who wanna destroy my product... come on, Puppy, let's go lie down..." she said before making her way towards the bed with her shoulders completely slumped.

Spot followed right behind her as he squated behind her to make sure she didn't bump into anything else, carefully leading her to the bed. As soon as she slumped down on the bed, she kicked her pumps off and scooted backwards onto the mattress laying down on the soft and lumpy pink blankets, however she realized that she didn't feel Spot coming onto the bed with her turns out he was laying down on the floor next to the bed. "Mmm?" Peachy hummed with confusion before she patted the bed to find were he was laying until she spoke up. "Spot? Are ya up here?" She tilted her head in confusion while rasing an eyebrow.

"I'm down here Babydoll." Spot replied. "On the floor were... I'm supposed to be." Peachy nearly felt her heart strings being pulled as he heard the Vulnerability in his voice. "Wha- Mmmm Puppy you don't need to lay on the ground you know that right? Yous can lay up here with me!"

Spot felt himself tense up from hearing her suggestion, something he'd NEVER thought to hear from someone he works for, always thinking who would want to lay with some constantly naked dog man constantly injected with medicine that constantly boosts his arousal to the point where it's painful alot of fearful thoughts began to run his mind "what if I hurt her? What if I make one wrong move and she will push me away! No... no no no I'm still a good dog, I'm still her good boy right?" He began to tense up even more from the thought, his breathing suddenly became labored out of worry.

"Y-you want me... to lay up there...w-with you?" Spot asked in a shakey voice, barely able to keep up with his breathing as his whole body tensed up even more. Peachy heard his labored breathing, which made her catch up on his nervous body language. "Yeah, yeah I do! Puppyyyy come lay up here with me I ain't gonna bite ya know?"

Though still very hesitant he got up off the floor slowly and steadily up the bed where he sees her sitting there with a soft smile on her face though being a very aggressive, violent, and a raging psychopath these were one of the many times she acted so sweet to someone and in a more genuine way. She moved her finger in a "come here" motion as she a waited for him to lay next to her. "Come on! I know ya wanna snuggle up with me! I know ya really really wanna!"

And after a moment of hesitation and doubt he then curled up over to her putting his upper half right ontop off her lap. She let out a content chuckle as she placed her arm around him pulling him closer, she then placed her pacifier in her mouth now fully being in a peaceful presence of comfort and security. "Mmmm, there ya go, now yous all nice and cozy... wasn't so bad, was it?"

Spot began to feel a sense of relief and reassurance from the feeling of her arm wrapped around him, the feeling of her small hand running over his back sent more tingles down his spine, though he was still a bit self-conscious for being close to her like this it was all very... new? He then turned onto his back to expose his stomach to her, making her giggle from the feeling of him cuddling up to her which was a good sign that he was starting to feel more comfortable around her.

"Hehe, you are just so damn cuddly, aren't ya? Even though you maul these playthings for a living..." she purred even though she still had a hint of playfulness in her tone. She placed her hands on his stomach and rubbed it playfully, causing him to squirm under her touch while playfully waving his nubs in the air and letting out some happy "grumbles"

"Awwww you are just so god damn cuddly even, even though you maul these worthless playthings for a living!" Peachy cooed as she patted continued to pat his stomach, his skin being very smooth to the touch. "Eh, but I could give to shits less, cause your always so good to me... so obedient, so... loyal..."

Spot hurdled even closer to her, wanting to be as close as possible, just hear some more of her praise he could almost burst into tears just by hearing the sweet words from her, he was never praised like this before by anyone for once he felt like he was getting some real comfort from an owner, and not just being used for someone else's sexual desires.

whimpered softly almost as he was expressing so more praise as if he was longing to hear more words of love and consolation. "I'm a good dog... right?" He spoke up softly giving her those puppy eyes, though it was a bit hard to see considering it's behind his mask.

Peachy laughed softly from his question finding it so wholesome that almost out of anyone he could seek comfort for, it was her she smiled softly before she leaned down as her tiny crooked nose made contact with the nose on his mask, her hand never stopped grazing his stomach before speaking

"Yeah... Yeah you are..."

#franco barbi #the outlast trials #outlast fandom #oc #prime asset oc #others oc's #oc collab #fancfic #blurb #ik ik my grammer is BAD!😭#though this took me quite a while to write so BARE WITH ME!#plus i had to write a fic of these two weirdos cause GOD Spot is one of my favorite OC's in this fandom!#Ruble you really have made the best boy EVER!!!

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wildemaven · 2 years ago

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Sweet Creature: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4177

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Lots of Fluff, these two can’t keep their hands to themselves, oral (m receiving), two dumb dumbs in love, mentions of food, Readers nickname is Poppy (no physical description at all), talks of sobriety

Series Masterlist / Playlist/ Main Masterlist

Previous / Epilogue

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s blinding, even with the late afternoon sun perched high above Hollywood Boulevard.

The theater, El Capitan, its signage bold and ornate give the movie house its old Hollywood charm, welcoming those in attendance to the star studded movie premiere.

There are so many people, stacks and stacks of bodies with cameras and flashes barricaded behind a wall of bigger cameras with more people holding microphones— masquerading as a friend-next-door the moment the camera rolls, dropping the facade the second the interview is over.

Dieter is grateful the minute you both step out of the car that you had agreed to attend the event with him, having you by his side to ground him, not knowing what feelings or emotions this movie celebration would evoke— but having you as his plus one, as fans and paparazzi wailed and cheered for him after being away from the spotlight for close to 3 years—made it feel less paralyzing.

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s a precise balance of excitement and jitters, mixing and swirling a heady cocktail of emotions, nerves tickling at the surface— but the dizzying sensation settles, not dissolved but thinned and manageable the minute his voice hits the chaotic noise filled air.

“You good?” A steady hand settling on the small of your back, his words a whispered question only meant for you, knowing how overwhelming this whole scene can be, even for someone who has been in the business for as long as he has.

“Yeah, I’m good— it’s just a lot to take in. I don’t know how you do this regularly?” A hint of a nervous crack in your voice.

“Honestly, I have no clue— my memory of them is a bit hazy— I do know though, having you here makes it seem less terrifying, so thank you for coming. If it’s too much, you can skip it? I can do my obligations and meet you on the other side?” His thumb draws comforting circles to the opening where your dress reveals your bare skin.

“N-no— I can manage, I’m sure once we get moving it will be fine. Would rather stick with you anyway.” Your teeth gnawing at your lower lip, keeping your focus on him only, as you both wait for the line for actors, producers and directors before you to continue down the strip of red plush carpet.

“Have I told you how hot you look in this dress?” He asks against the shell of your ear, a feather light kiss to the juncture of your jaw before pulling back to fix his gaze back on yours.

It's a simple cut, tailor made to your figure. It’s champagne in color with delicate wide straps draped down the curve of your breasts, the satin fabric flowing down the length of your body, the low-cut exposing your back and a romantic train pooling around the ground as you stand.

“Hmm, I think beautiful, sexy, gorgeous were a few of the terms you used since I slipped into it— I’ll add hot to the list— Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, Handsome.”

His double breasted all white suit fit him so well, his white button down lacking the buttoning of the top few buttons, emphasizing the taut lines of his gorgeous neck.

“Alright Mr. Bravo, right this way. You’re going to stop on the designated tape marks briefly, let them get their shot, then make your way to the interviewers and there will also be some fans at the end of the carpet before making your way inside.”

The sweet young lady assigned to Dieter for the evening debriefed the two of you as you prepared to step out into the sea of flashing madness. Putting you both front and center to the onslaught of yelling and demanding requests from photographers, ensuring they get the angle and shot that their Big-Name-Magazine-Boss will plaster across glossy pages accompanied in tiny print ‘shot by’ next to their name.

“You ready for this?” Dieter asks, almost as if he’s giving you one more chance to bail.

“No, but lead the way Mr. Bravo.” A kiss for good luck to his cheek as he removes his hand from your back, interlocking your fingers together followed by a few squeezes as he starts to guide you to the first stop on the carpet.

“DIETER! TO YOUR RIGHT!”

“MR. BRAVO! DIETER— RIGHT HERE!”

“DIETER!”

Dieter’s confident and casual demeanor is charming, standing off to the side as he gets his photo taken, watching him as he does his dutiful requirements as the leading actor at his movie’s premiere.

You study his profile, angular and captivating, his demure half smile on display as he does his best to look in every direction is name is being called to, the way his chestnut locks look lived in and controlled at the same time, his overwhelming beauty is doing wonders to keep your nervous thoughts at bay— selfishly eager to get him home to have him all to yourself.

As the line moves, Dieter keeps you close, your body angled in towards him at the next stop, an arm wrapped low around your waist. Your noses nearly touch when he looks over to you, a silent check in and an excuse to give his eyes a break from the bright bursts of light— honestly any reason to look in your direction.

“Poppy, babe— I think they want your attention.” His husky voice breaks through the riotous hollering, his head tilting in the direction of where the ‘Miss, this way please!’ is being called out.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Dieter, no real idea where to look or who to focus on, giving your best not super forced almost toothy grin, taking a few breaks to focus back on Dieter then looking back out to the wall of intense flickers— Dieter’s constant need for his sunglasses making total sense now.

It’s near the end of the carpet, where the interviewing line begins. Reporters asking their stream of questions— some related to the movie, others more personal. But all fairly tame and revolving around the shooting of the movie, wanting to know more about how Dieter worked to bring his character to life and if his sobriety was hard to manage at any point in time during filming.

The focus directly on Dieter, letting you ride through the interview process with a front row seat.

“Dieter, this is not a role we’ve seen from you before— it’s new and refreshing I would think. How different was it from your usual rogue characters, to play this soft romantic heartthrob?” The interviewer asks, utilizing her time with many substantial questions.

“Soft romantic heartthrob? You’re feeding my ego right— give me more! It is very new and refreshing, like you said. But also kind of intimidating, since I’m usually playing some asshole— oops— Sorry! Um, some jerk in most of my roles, which kind of seemed like second nature for me at a point in my career. To then jump into this role, it felt foreign and scary when we started shooting— but I found a rhythm and I’m really happy with how it worked with the rest of the cast.”

It’s ‘nice meeting you’ or ‘great talking to you again’ before progressing further down the carpet, to the next round of questions.

“Dieter, congratulations on being almost 3 years sober now! That must be an incredible feeling? Did you find it hard to jump into this movie all while trying to manage your sobriety?” The next interviewer asks.

“Thank you, that’s kind of you to say. It’s definitely an indescribable feeling, but I’m grateful for it everyday.” He gives your hip a light squeeze as he says it. “Sure, it was hard at times— not because of temptation or anything, but because I wanted to be fully present and show the entire team that I wasn’t going to let them down, it’s just something I actively work on daily now. But coming into this movie in a new head space, I was determined to hold myself accountable, making sure I was checking in with everyone too was a big thing for me. Plus, it didn’t hurt to have this gorgeous woman in my corner— I was grateful I got to come home to her every weekend, reset before the new work week.”

It’s the first he’s mentioned you out of all the answers he’s given so far— mostly sticking to directly related to the topic and movie. Your relationship is no big secret in your small town, but this is the first the two of you have attended something of this magnitude as a couple, even after being together for 2 years.

You’re not going to lie though, it makes you melt when he looks at you as he says it, awarding you with his lopsided smile and a wink before redirecting his attention back to the reporter.

“Miss, what do you think was the contributing factor in helping Dieter stay on track for this role.” The microphone pointed at your face as the interviewer looked to you for a response.

“Umm, I don’t think it was anything I did in particular— Dieter was the one who made all of this happen, I was just there making sure he knew how amazing he was doing through it all— and supported him however he needed me. All of his success is because of him, I can’t take credit for any of that.”

The reporter seems satisfied, thanking you for answering it honestly.

“You better hang on to her, Dieter. I think you’ve got yourself a keeper with this one!” Trying to strum up some playful banter as the interviewer comes to a close.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t dream of letting her go.” No care to the cameras or anyone around you, as he softly presses a quick peck to your lips— once, twice, three times just because he can.

“Thank you for your time, Dieter. Enjoy yourselves tonight.” A hand shake to both you and Dieter, sending you off with a grateful smile for chatting with her.

Each interview had similar questions to previous ones he had already done, but he did his best to give each of them original responses.

One last interview, a major publication, waiting patiently as you both approach their little assigned space. They’re kind with their questions, which has been a relief for him the entire evening to not be bombarded with any humiliating or embarrassing comments.

“What does Dieter Bravo do in his spare time now? You’re no longer living in LA, any plans to move back?” A string of new questions are asked to finish off this interview.

“We own a gallery back in my hometown where I’ve been staying since officially leaving LA, still looking for a permanent place though.”

“He owns the gallery— I just help run it when he’s off doing his movie star things.” You interject, correcting his statement in a playful manner.

“Says the woman the gallery is named after. I call her Poppy— Les Coquelicots is poppy in French, also after one of my favorite Monet paintings, so in a weird roundabout way, she does own it— don’t tell her I put her name on the paperwork, so she owns more than she thinks she does.” The last part isn’t a secret because you signed the paperwork, but he loves using the line wherever he can, so you play shocked and laugh right along with him.

“Are you able to find time to utilize the gallery for yourself? Will we be seeing any art made by the hands of Dieter Bravo?”

“I’ve been working on some things— I won’t say what, don’t want to spoil anything, but there may be something in the works that will be debuted soon-ish.”

The report congratulates Dieter on his new movie and wishes him the best.

“That wasn’t so bad. Plus, it was fun listening to you answer all those questions.”

“I knew you’d enjoy yourself.” Pulling you close to his side as you make your way through the crowd that’s formed at the end of the carpet— agents, assistants, significant others who chose to forgo the carpet entirely, all waiting for the person they came with to finish.

The assistant from earlier, meets up with you and points to a small group of fans who are all waiting for a chance to meet the stars before they head into the theater.

You stand back and watch him interact with each of them. Signing magazine and movie posters, pausing for selfies and listening to each of them tell him how proud they are and how excited they are to watch their favorite actor perform in a new film.

It warms your heart to see him showered with love the entire time.

“Mr. Bravo, you're going to head in through these doors and there will be someone to help you to your seats.” The sweet young lady guides you both to the main lobby of the theater, indicating the direction of the main entrance to where the movie will be shown.

“Actually, can you point us to a side exit— our driver should be waiting for us outside.” Scanning the space for any potential exits that would be easy to slip out unnoticed.

“Sir, the movie hasn’t started yet— I’m not sure leaving is the best idea. I can have someone come get you and walk you to your seats, the movie should be starting shortly.” The young woman is flustered by Dieter’s attempt to leave early, but just trying to do her job.

“No offense, but I don’t watch my own shit— you never watch your own shit. You just wipe, flush and move on. I know you’re just doing what you’re told, but if you’ll kindly point out an exit, we’re gonna head home.”

The constant low humming of the car's engine and the way Dieter’s fingers aimlessly map out shapes over your thigh, head resting on his shoulder you’re tucked in close to his warmth in the small back seat, enough to lull you to sleep on the hour and a half drive back home.

“Hey, Poppy— we’re home.” Dieter murmurs softly as he kisses the top of your head.

“Hmm?” Lifting your head, dazed as you look out the windows to see the car is parked in your driveway.

“We’re home. Let’s get you inside.”

Dieter offers the driver a tip and thanks him for the ride, then grabs for your discarded shoes and your small purse as he slips out of the backseat, hand extended out to you as you follow suit.

“Oh, shit!” It’s a slight stumble out of the car when your feet hit the cool concrete, falling into Dieter’s awaiting arms, steadying your sleepy frame against his until you're upright and balanced.

“Thank you.” Voice raspy with sleep, but cognizant enough to give him lingering kiss, a buzz of desire fully awakens you when Dieter deepens the kiss.

“Mmm, why don’t we take this inside? I think your neighbors have had enough of us at this point.” He mumbles against your eager lips.

“Meet you inside then.” You purr with one last kiss, before you pull up the hem of your trailing dress and head towards the front door, peeking over your shoulder, bottom lip playfully drawn between your teeth as you wink back at him, still standing in the driveway.

Shaking his head and laughing, your purse and shoes still in his grip, he follows your lead into the house.

Dieter’s barely made it over the threshold, closing the door when he feels his body being pressed up against the wooden door, your belongings falling to the hardwood floors with a heavy thud.

Your mouth moves against his with a fiery want, Dieter falling into the motions seamlessly, his hands gripping at your hips pulling you as close as possible. It’s a dance of angles as your tongue dominates his, exploring as you lick feverishly into his mouth.

Abruptly, you drop to your knees below him, his eyes blown and he tries to catch his breath.

“Pop— Poppy…”

His sentence cut off by the sound of his zipper sliding down, rustling of his pants and boxers being pulled to his knees, his cock half hard at just the mere sight of you.

The press of your lips and tongue against his hip bone is enough to make him fall to the floor, the drag of your upper lip across his skin, breath heated and stirring as you place another to his lower abdomen, wiry hairs tickle at your lower lip— then mirroring the same effort to his other hip.

“Fuck! Poppy— shit!” His length is hard and throbbing, his mind trying to focus on the way you’re licking the pre-cum as it weeps from the head of his cock, a thick haze of arousal clouding his mind.

He moans— fucking moans as you take fully in your mouth, his head falling back against the door, a staticy sensation building at the base of his spine at the way he’s repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

There’s a lot he wants to say, tell you how perfect you feel around him, how much he loves the way your hands roam about touching every little bit of him as you bring him closer and closer to the peak of his delirium.

His breath ragged between lovesick whimpers, body tensing in preparation, a slow hum of satisfaction as you continue to move up and down his length— hand gripping tightly at the base of his shaft igniting a hungered fuse.

“Pop— Fuck! Poppy, I’m gonna— fuckfuckfuckfuck! Babe, I’m gonna come!”

There’s stars, fireworks, bursts of light. Fists slamming into the door.

His spend hits the back of your throat, managing to take all of it as he continues to come.

Warm. Salty. Perfectly him.

Licking your lips, satisfied with your work, working his suit pants back up, fastening the button as you stand to your full height.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw then to his neck, his pulse rapid against your lips, you pull back to take in Dieter’s blissed out state.

“Th-that was unexpected— holy fuck! I just— w-when you— I don’t even know, my brain is mush now.” There’s a rasp to his voice as he tries his best to properly form words, pinched brows and breathless as his lungs desperately fill with air.

“Just wanted to make sure you know how amazing I think you are— watching you tonight, seeing how much you love being in your element— I’m really proud of you, I think everyone else is too.”

“Fuck, I love you so much Poppy.”

He tastes remnants of himself on your tongue, and if he hadn’t just come down your throat minutes ago he would definitely be hard and ready again for you.

Instead he takes his time just kissing you, pouring every ounce of love and affection he has for you into it, your dress bunching and pulling as his hands anchor your body to his, kneading the swell of your backside— your presence is overwhelming and not enough at the same time.

There’s a low grumble that cuts into two of you making out, still situated in the front entry of your home.

“I love you, Dieter. But I think I need something with a little more sustenance, though. I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick, then I’ll pull something out to reheat.” Taking a few steps back from him, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand and adjusting the strap of your dress.

“Dessert before dinner kind of woman, I like it.” A throwback to your first date.

“Mmm, you should know me better by now— I’m a dessert anytime kind of woman.” You smirked, mindful of your dress with each slow step backward.

Dieter pushes off the door, closing the space between you, his mouth molding perfectly over yours, unhurried and attentive.

“Hurry your sexy self back here.” He murmurs into the last kiss, swatting playfully at your ass before you turn and head towards the bathroom.

A soft ballad drifts through the house as you make your way back to the main living area, the flicker of light emanating from your studio lets you know where Dieter is.

“Do you want leftover pizza or some of that pasta?” You call out to him, cold air hitting you as the doors to the refrigerator open.

“Dieter?”

You pull the containers from the fridge and set them on the island counter, both options sounding like a great idea the more you think about it.

When you get to the doorway of your studio, you find Dieter sitting, his brush moving with intent over one of his finished paintings, still finding reasons to add to it.

Arms crossed over your chest, heading resting into the wooden frame as you lean into the doorway, taking in the picturesque scene before you.

Recounting the moments over the last 2 years that led you to now.

How every waking minute you want to be consumed by Dieter in some way, he nestles into every single thought or emotion you experience, always able to bring a smile to your face.

Up until this point, love was the downfall for many of your relationships, loving too much or not enough, a hindrance to your own happiness.

But with Dieter, there’s a deeper purpose, a greater feeling of being loved and respected.

His effervescent spirit radiates from his soul, embedding himself into every corner of your heart.

He’s a tidal wave of intensity, pulling you under and filling your lungs to their fullest capacity, you drown in him, never wanting to surface again.

You’re grateful for his existence, for barreling into your life at full speed and for loving you with a passion you never knew before him.

Dieter is your home.

“That one is my favorite.” You state, moving into the room closer to where he is.

“Hmm, I think you’re just saying that.”

“Could be— or it could be the truth.” Your fingers carding through his curls as you stand behind him, admiring each brush stroke and line he created. “I know you don’t think you are, but you’re more than ready— they’re all so beautiful and I’m so lucky to have been witness to you painting each one of them.”

Dieter’s first art opening was next week, but he still found himself second guessing every little detail in each painting— his self criticism lashing out as the days grew closer.

Silhouettes, every curve and crook shaded and painted in a manner reminiscent of your naked form, not recognizable to anyone but Dieter and yourself. Heads replaced with elaborate bouquets of poppies in washes of pinks, oranges and reds.

“Okay— they’re done.” He says, placing his brush in the jar of stained water.

He swivels to face you, his hands resting on your satin covered hips, three brief squeezes— I love you.

You brush a loose curl off of his forehead, fingers trailing down his face, light scratches to his patchy beard he so proudly grew out.

“So, you said you’re still looking for a place?” A cheeky smile forms on your face, looking down at where he’s still sitting.

“I did, didn’t I?” There's a hint of sarcasm as he says it, the corners of his mouth starting to quirk up.

“Mhmm— is staying on my couch getting too boring for Mr. Movie Star Dieter?” Your head tilts to the side in question, knowing well that in the last two years he hasn’t slept a minute on your couch— save for his afternoon naps.

He stands, pulling you into his chest, eyes gleaming with an unexplainable excitement as he looks at you.

“Nah, I love your couch.” He reaches into the pocket of his pants to grab for something.

“So much so, I think I want to stay on it permanently— if that’s okay with you?” He asks, holding up a shiny object in front of you.

A gold ring with a 3 carat, princess cut green emerald stone, flanked by two smaller diamonds. It’s ridiculously flashy, looking exactly like something Dieter would pick out— and you’re so taken aback by how perfect it is.

You’re shocked, speechless, in complete awe of what he’s asking you right now, without even outright asking.

“You want to marry me, Dieter?” Your eyes glistening in the candle light, a few tears managing to slip down the slope of your cheeks.

He slips the ring onto your bare finger.

“Baby, I want you to be mine forever. Marry me, Poppy?”

Both your worlds, so beautifully different but painted together so well.

“Yes! Forever— yes!”

There’s tears and laughter, between shared feelings and drawn out slow kisses, text to friends and family sharing the exciting news.

“Thank you, Dieter. I’m so glad I gave your best a chance.”

A/N: I’ve been so eager to finish this chapter, and the minute I did I cried! I love these two so much!! I’m so fucking grateful for every single one of you who took time out of your day to read, reblog, comment, like, message about this series in any way shape or form— it’s truly been an amazing journey with all of you!! Thank you!! An even bigger thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for her constant support through every single chapter, you are my hero! Epilogue coming soon!

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x poppy #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #wildemaven writes

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gourmetjello · 1 year ago

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könig x reader : microwave

hey loves, hopefully könig isn’t getting too boring !! i’m quite obviously a könig blog for now but i would love to write about others too maybe a bit later, i was thinking about keegan, ghost, krueger or maybe even horangi? any opinions on these guys? (｡- .•)

you know the drill already -> 2nd person pov (it’s working pretty well!) and english isn’t my first language so bear with me. this will be a more lighthearted and shorter fic! i’ve been promising a fluff for a few days now but gosh, i feel like i would mess it up and könig would be to ooc. that’s just my personal fear though bahaha

also in this oneshot könig is wearing his mask / sniper hood for the first time ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) hope you’ll enjoy! (bunch of dialogue in this one ahaha)

—

the kortac base was always eerily quiet and dark around nighttime and it even creeped some people out. you weren’t really one of them, but you couldn’t deny that the thought of being surrounded by so many guns and other kinds of weapons didn’t exactly make you feel safe and sound at night. not like you spent so much time in the main building after midnight, but still.

one night though, you happened to be in one of the rooms because the microwave in the dormitory stopped working. it’s a stupid little thing, but it did indeed cause a mass panic among the people in the crew! everyone was rushing to grab their already prepared meals from the fridges, trying to get to the microwave first. they got to warm up their food and was all that mattered — however, you totally forgot about this silly tech chaos.

you stood in front of the already yellowed microwave in the shared dormitory kitchen, pressing every button you could possibly lay your finger on. it made a little beeping noise after your aggressive presses, but after displaying ‘error’ instead of the time, you gave up. it just wouldn’t start spinning and it wouldn’t light up either. what a stupid piece of technology!

loud sighs could be heard in the empty room ws your finger gently knocked against the already cracked and slightly dirty plastic shell of the microwave. you didn’t even dare to open the door of it and look in there with maybe a light or something — you were totally scared that you would find some kind of nasty black mold growing in there. which was probably the case. and it made you feel so uneasy! but oh well, soliders are so cheap — you thought and carried on.

you were fine with eating cold food, as long as it had some nutritional value, but when a bunch of people in camouflage outfits passed you with steaming warm meals on their trays, you just had to stop in your tracks.

“hey, where did you heat that-“

but everyone was too busy with eating their soggy yet warm food. they were all eating like they have been starving for at least three weeks! and the way they knocked you out of the way to get to the fridge made you freeze up for a second — gosh, these men (and women too, surprisingly) can drink a can of no name beer like it’s the finest liquid to ever flow on planet earth!

you quickly had to realize that you were on your own in this situation. or well, maybe not a hundred percent on your own because there was that small plate of clumped together mashed potatoes and a can of ice cold soup on your plastic tray. your fingers slightly trembled as you were about to pick it all up and sit down next to someone, pretending that they were piping hot like theirs — but you accidentally caught someone blabbering about how it was such a smart touch to put a microwave in the main building too.

that small little sentence you happened to hear was almost like a god-sent miracle, it made you immediately grab everything that was in front of you and you practically rushed to the lobby of the kortac base. it was pretty dark in there and you weren’t too familiar with where the light switches were there, but it didn’t bother you that much because all you could possibly care about in that moment was getting your food all nice and wamed up.

and guess what — the microwave was working. what a blessing!

you watched as the device light up with an orange-ish tint and you could see your canned soap going round and round on the little glass plate inside. the microwave lit up the entire room with a pretty yellow color, making you forget how quiet and dark it actually was in there.

the sweet little chime that played as it finished spun in your head on repeat like it was the best sound ever, signaling that you could finally eat after a long and tiring day. as soon as you took out the soup, you immediately paced the mashed potatoes in there as well, wanting to heat them up as quick as possible. it was satisfying to see the timer go down, and when you thought about getting something to drink, maybe a glass of water, you turned around-

only to see the barrel of a gun pointing at you.

you could barely make out the shape in front of your eyes in the dimly lit room, but once you realized what shape it was your heart immediately started beating in your throat. as a trained solider, you knew better than to make a sound in a situation like this, but come on. was someone pulling a horrible prank on you?

“who’s.. who’s this?” you asked with a weak voice, what a mistake. you knew you were never ever supposed to form a question when something dangerous was going on, but you had to know.

“i’ll tell you while i pour that boiling can of soup on you, how does that fucking sound?” the voice was familiar, but you couldn’t exactly put your finger on who it could belong to.

“e-excuse me?”

as the microwave finished heating your mashed potatoes up, it made three short beeps and the light stayed on, blinking every once in a while. the sounds it made broke the silence between you and this mysterious person that really wanted to commit some kind of crime on base, for whatever reason.

or maybe you were taking this too lightly? what if it was actually someone that broke into the base and is actually not kidding while saying all of these things? you knew quite a few people that could kill people without even thinking twice, the military was simply a place like that, but gosh, why would anyone say this to their own co-worker? it had to be someone who’s actually a threat. right?

as the yellow light blinked every few seconds, you just had to look up in case you knew who this person could be. and as soon as you saw how low the mysterious man had to hold compared to his own body and weight, you could immediately make a guess.

“könig?”

“huh?”

“what the fuck are you doing? put the gun down!”

it looked like something clicked in his brain too as he heard your voice again and he lowered the gun to his side, or at least that was what you were able to see. he then lightly leaned down but what you saw next absolutely creeped you out — he had some kind of cloth on his face! did this man totally go insane?

“i demand an.. explanation?”

“hm?”

“..like, i need you to tell me what this whole thing was about!”

“i mistook ya’ for an intruder.” he shrugged.

you stayed silent for a few seconds.

“you really thought that someone would break in all sneakily and.. warm up some food? are you being serious right now?”

“you can never know.”

“and what’s this rag on your head?

“rag?”

“yeah.”

“it’s um. equipment. sniper.”

“you’re not even a sniper.”

“shut up. i can be a sniper.”

“is that a t-shirt?”

“no.”

you could barely see what was on his head but judging from the way it just hung down, you were almost 99% sure in it being just an old t-shirt. the idea felt so silly, yet you had to admit that someone in a mask like that standing in this dark room would really make someone shit their pants.

“it is. you could have gotten a.. um, like, fake leaves. like others do. or that net on your head or something. you know, anything that looks a little more.. professional?”

“yeah, ya’ don’t like it?”

“i did not say that, just..”

“want a bullet in yer’ fucking stupid brain?”

“no.”

“i thought.”

“you thought?”

“i thought.”

“you thought so?”

“ja. thought so.”

“your english still sucks.”

“don’t need it.”

you took a deep sigh and you took a moment to think about how pathetic this scene could look to someone viewing this whole thing from the doorway or outside or anything like that. it was almost like you were watining for a cameraman to walk out from behind one of the chairs in the room and tell you how this will be a great scene for their next draining comedy series.

“you do need it.”

“nein.”

“what a great sense of humor you got there.”

“another joke.. and i, eh, really shoot you. understood?”

“oh gosh. okay.”

—

really short !! so sorry, this was all i could do today. thank you for the kind words, the many likes and the 20 followers. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

good night!

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onyourhyuck · 2 years ago

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MRS NA? | NA JAEMIN. | PART FOUR.

— Prologue: “I’m not your servant, I’m your wife Jaemin.” + “Okay, I sense I may have said this wrongly to you.”

— Summary: Wherein Go Yeeun wakes up from a coma and meets Na Jaemin claiming to be her husband and have five children together.

— Genre: jaemin series. Romance. Found family. Mystery. Smut. Crack. Fluffiness.

— Notes: THIS IS A JAEMIN SERIES ON MY BLOG. reblog and follow me for more daily updates.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Go Yeeun walks down the plains of the farm. The animals were groomed and dressed into newer coats. The different hairbrushes for the horses had to be used which took longer than doing a simple hairstyle for yourself. Taking care of a farm alone was no joke a very hard job and task. Many of the animals were very important and so Yeeun had no choice but to take care of them, because her lovely husband who works a 9 to 5 job couldn’t do that. Yeeun doesn’t remember anything to say to Jaemin. She doesn’t know if she actually agreed to these chores, to do them. But she took a wild leap and believes her so called husband.

Was he even a husband at this point? Yeeun has been stuck for two months trying to regain her memories of Jaemin and the five children. Nothing came to mind. Sometimes her dreams feels like a puzzle more than a dream with no meaning.

At this point the young woman feels so misplaced. Like a red wine bottle placed between two beer aisles. She feels like a stuck out sore thumb that you can point out in a second. Something about this place doesn’t feel like home. This place feels new and foreign to Yeeun.

And she cannot believe she chose a life like this? I mean a farm? Chores all day? Take care of children all the freaking time and when the kids go to sleep, Yeeun has to deal with an emotionally unavailable husband who barely makes an effort to understand her? This life sounds far from perfect. Far from normal. Far from what Yeeun believes she would have wanted in the past before her memories were erased from her mind.

Opening the backyard door, the young with the black long hair stuck in a messy bun wearing rain boots and overalls sweating from head to toe because she was doing everything to make the animals happy and all fed and cleaned, the overalls had stains of mud and reeking of cow’s straws from the hay. Not expecting anyone to be home. Yeeun’s round beautiful shaped eyes resembling a diamond nearly widen at the sight of the man with a slight tone and muscular build in the kitchen making himself a hot coffee. He wore a reddish and white flannel with crossed squares, a white tank top that make his muscular chest and pecs visible at times.

As much as Yeeun was shocked she was slightly confused too. Why was he back so early? He only left three hours ago.

The woman takes off the boots and then comes forward watching him sip the warm coffee. “What are you doing here back so early?” Yeeun questions with an eyebrow raise and he looks back seeing that Yeeun was already finished with her chores. He smirks raising his eyebrows at the question. “Oh hey bunny lips.” He smirks twirling around like a jelly bean with his body.

Jaemin leans against the counter as his eyes watch Yeeun’s figure. She looks slightly exhausted from doing chores all morning until afternoon. It makes him become smug as he saw Yeeun sit down with a groan as she looks at him.

He turns around when Yeeun was waiting for his answer clearly and he opens his mouth. “Ah. I’m just so good at my work that I finished early. Aren’t i a good husband my darling wife?” The tone he used was somehow mocking and a bit condescending.

Yeeun frowns but doesn’t say anything. She already feels slightly annoyed at him since the last time. They haven’t really spoke much. Not like they had much to talk about unless it’s about children. “Right…” Yeeun trails as she sighs. “Why don’t you help around the house then if you’re so good at your job?” She now blasts an invitation to Jaemin, that wasn’t so much of an invitation.

She is tired of doing chores all the freaking time. Jaemin should take some responsibilities around this household too.

His expression fell down. “But Yeeun that’s your job.” He expressed with an obvious hint that he won’t be doing that since it’s meant to be ‘hers’ to do and not Jaemin’s end of the deal.

The woman wasn’t pleased with the answer and any minute now Yeeun feels the boiling pent up rage inside her stomach aching and screaming to come out and tell her so called husband off right now. Yeeun would’ve divorced him by now, just saying she would’ve picked those papers up in a heartbeat. But Yeeun was thinking about the children and so she didn’t do that; the children matter the most. So Yeeun feels only more and more angry and frustrated at Jaemin’s lack of responsibility.

Yeeun slants upwards on the chair at the table as she takes off the boots now, with a stomp on the ground now. It’s clear that her body was showing anger but her voice was silent. He could imagine fire burning on her eyes whenever Yeeun looks at him.

It is also slightly misogynistic isn’t it? Yeeun is a woman so why is she doing the womanly house chores in the house? Surely Jaemin is a bit more modern than that considering his not so-fatherly acting decisions.

“Look are you here to just come and go? You’re meant to be here in this house too and as long as you’re living here you should do some chores around to help.”

There was a moment for their eyes to make contact. Jaemin stares at the woman telling him now this as she’s staring back at him unamused by how his blank eyes were slightly different than before. He looks like he didn’t want to help at all but when Yeeun phrased it like this he feels like he has no choice but to do it? He just never did a single chore in his life. Jaemin opens his mouth to say something but nothing came out so he closed it, and he raised his finger and puts it back down when his lips sealed. Yeeun’s voice comes off as a tired and annoyed sigh.

“I’ll be fair on you. You can wash the dishes on Saturdays and Sundays. And you can also do the laundry on those days too.”

Really? Jaemin couldn’t believe it you’re seriously giving him chores to do on his alone time! On his weekend where he doesn’t have to go to work. It’s the only time he can relax without the children wanting his attention too. And usually he would be at the bar or hanging out with his friends too.

He gave a slight frustrated fake smile at his wife. “Yeeun can you be slightly more lenient on me? I work. I want my alone time too.”

“Funny. I want my alone time too but I don’t get any at all.” Yeeun shot back and Jaemin felt his brain shutting instantly down. Fair enough, it looks like Yeeun has him cornered.

Hands running through his hair as he stares back at Yeeun and he gives her a slight nod as he sits down now in front of Yeeun as they’re at the table watching their faces. He was staring at her as he spoke now with a perusal sweet smile. “Alright how about just Saturday and i clean the dishes.” Jaemin now asked with both of his eyebrows turning up raised, as his voice was clearly trying to convince and change Yeeun’s decisions.

But she was too stubborn and Yeeun wasn’t the type of woman to fall for Jaemin’s tricks from getting away from doing his own chores. Yeeun was fair considering she does everything around here so it was fair. Jaemin was just avoiding her and her demands as his wife.

She leans forward and slams her hands in front of the table shaking it a bit which then flinched Jaemin as he wasn’t expecting Yeeun to really be this commanding and close to his face when shaking that table that held their elbows together on it. “I’m not your servant, I’m your wife Jaemin.”

Yeeun’s words echo in his ears. She feels more like a servant than a wife right now, and Jaemin’s eyes widen a little.

He groans a bit back at her words but he was now truly feeling like there’s no way he can get out of this now. Jaemin sighs.

“Okay, I sense I may have said this wrongly to you.” Jaemin replies to her as he looks at Yeeun again and he finally nods, without much choice, he doesn’t like this at all. “I’ll do the chores on Saturdays and Sundays.”

He then adds quickly causing Yeeun’s expression to falter downwards. “But on one condition.”

Yeeun has a bad feeling now that he’s saying one condition, and she can only think of bad things right now. “What condition will that be?” She sighs.

Yeeun’s expecting the worst.

He smirks leaning closer. “I take you on a date how about that?”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Why a date?” This was very sudden and somehow when Jaemin always suggests something there will always be some weirdly suspicious motive behind it all. Yeeun can’t help but shake this off.

He hums a bit. “Do I need a reason to take my wife on a date away from the kids?” He now stated and it makes Yeeun silent.

He had a point and she has no comeback to say to counter this so Yeeun trails quietly. “Have we went on a date before then?”

There was a little silence as Jaemin smirks and leans closer nodding. “Oh yeah. We did before once. You can tell how that went.” He states with a flirtatious laugh and smile as he’s now suggesting something completely different.

What did he mean? Yeeun thought.

“How did that date go?” She said confused and Jaemin found it surprisingly very innocent reaction of hers. He leans a bit closer and wraps one arm around Yeeun as he shifts her weight and chair to move even closer towards him where he sat in the chair. His playful eyes never leave Yeeun’s confused and curious eyes. It’s clear that she has no clue, and of course she has no clue.

She has no memories. No recollection. It just makes this more or so funny for Jaemin.

When their faces are even closer he whispers to Yeeun’s ears. “How do you think we made Yongsoo, bunny lips?”

The heart raced like crazy. The eyes widen like sweats coming down the Iris pupils. She grew redder on her complexion now and Yeeun snaps away from Jaemin as she scowls now. “Oh god do you have to say this to me?” Yeeun complained, it was unpleasant and it made her flustered. Embarrassed.

Jaemin on the other hand was loving her reactions. He just loves it when she rejects him so equivalently to how much she’s squeamish at the thought too.

It only takes more for Jaemin to throw in a baby-making joke there and there to have his wife Yeeun leaving him alone.

“You asked. Don’t be complaining to me.” Jaemin smirks as he looks back at Yeeun caressing some of the strands behind her ears.

He took a moment to admire her red cheeks. Somehow she has a feeling there’s a bigger motive behind his ‘date’ he’s asking her to go on right now. “So is that a yes then?” He now asked her again with a playful smile. “Don’t leave your husband hanging here, Yeeun.” He sweetly adds.

She groans mentally. Yeeun looks at him with a flat expression between her eyebrows and eyes. “Okay I guess we can go on a date.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Darling. Get ready because we are leaving at 6.” Jaemin remarks standing up and leaving the kitchen which makes Yeeun widen her eyes.

She wasn’t expecting it to be this quick? Now she’s left thinking what was his whole deal with this deal thing. They really haven’t been communicating much to be going on a date despite having children together. Yeeun sighs. This is going to be a long day.

The children were all rousing up at their father when they now were told they won’t be home with Yeeun or him. They were shocked at first. Haewon, the cute little girl with two braids holding her bunny plushie was the first one to speak out with a pout clearly not liking this. “Awh I want mommy. I don’t want uncle Jeno. He’s not fun at all. He thinks he’s funny like Kevin Hart.”

Oh wow how awkward Jaemin thought, he wonders what his best friend has told his children last time when telling a joke considering they all find him extremely unpleasant right now, or maybe they want their mother so bad they don’t want anyone else right now. Usually the boys like Jeno when they get babysat by his friend.

But now? Yeeun completely changed them. Jaemin was left there trying to make his children calm down and not be so disappointed. He didn’t expect the children to be so attached to Yeeun but hey, they are and they really look up to her so much.

“Dad can you take Jeno on the date instead? Mommy can stay with us.” Insu the one with the slight wispy lips on his words whenever he talks now said tugging on Jaemin’s wrist.

Jaemin laughs a little. “Come on what will me and Jeno do on a date if we go together? Anyways we won’t take too long.” He said now as he would huddle the kids as he kneels down. “Be good to Jeno, kids, and I mean it.” When he brought them in a circle to tell them the rules again. He was serious with them now and he spoke with intentions of not having them repeat what they did last time to Jeno…

He starts to list their mischievous pranks they always do and get in trouble for when they get babysat.

“No paper bombs.”

“No filling the water tub until it overflows.”

The boys whine when he said no more pranks with the bathtub. Hanuel was enjoying that one, especially when it was his idea. Despite being the eldest he was a genius at pranks.

Jaemin looks back at Insung, the twin with the wider cute ears sticking out. He flicks his son’s ears warning. “And that counts no playing with fire, Insung. I mean it.”

The boy nods slowly, he looks disappointed when his father said no to fire. Jaemin really doesn’t know how these kids came up with these ideas.

“Alright. Be good kids. Mommy and i will come back home soon.” Jaemin said now and the front door revealing their mother coming out wearing a new outfit that they never once saw on their mother before. She looks more dressed up and she even put on makeup?

Haewon gasps wowing first as behind Jaemin Yeeun was walking outside the house. “Whoa mommy you look so pretty.” Her daughter exclaims and she was literally eyeing her mother as if Yeeun was like a real life-doll.

The eldest boy Hanuel and the twins Insu and Insung were watching their mother with a jealous eye. Why did their mom go with their dad? She was meant to be with them watching their new episode of their cartoon show on tv!

Yongsoo was already crying. “Mommy nooooo nooo don’t goooo.”

The children didn’t want their mother to go and have fun with their dad because let’s be honest, they love Yeeun too much to let her go right now and their attachment issues? Are severally attached. They like Jeno but they can’t compare him to their amazing mother who does everything for them. She knows everything they like. Meanwhile Jeno doesn’t know anything except bad jokes and he ends up getting pranked by them.

The last time Jeno actually babysat them, he woke up ducktaped in the pig pens. He spent the next hour that day with the pigs, his entire body covered in the grey thick duck tape. And the kids were all making a mess at home too with the freedom they had back then.

Yeeun was surprised to see her children so unhappy and it somehow made her heart beat so much. She gives them a loving smile all and hugs them all in a crowding manner and a huddle. “Oh you guys, I’ll be back soon and I promise when I come back I’ll buy you your favourite ice lollies on the way yeah?” The children seem a little more obedient and happy with that deal.

The two men, Jeno and Jaemin now make eye contact as they try not to smile too much. Jaemin has to give it to Yeeun. She has found a bond with the children he couldn’t do at all. Yeeun was so good with them now.

And not to mention how beautiful Yeeun looks right now Jaemin found his eyes stuck on Yeeun. The short sleeve top with slight pale-ish green colour really goes well with that milky soft complexion. The little handbag strand on her arms and the long flared jeans with the boots? It was definitely an outfit that he likes. It shows off every curve and every beautiful detailing Yeeun so much.

Yeeun sighs and looks at Jaemin who she saw staring at her in a very obvious and different manner and direction.

“What?” Yeeun blurts out confused, she looks down at her outfit and then back at her husband. “Do I have something on my face?” She half panics and Jaemin shakes his head. “No, no,”

He clears his voice. “Nothing. I was zoning out.” He brushed away the own thoughts of Yeeun looking beautiful. “Get inside the car Yeeun, we gotta go.” The woman was brought to reality and she nods getting inside the passenger car.

The car clicks and she looks out the window waving at the five children. “You sure your friend can handle them?” Yeeun would ask looking at the driver seat where her husband was sitting now starting the engine with the key in the car hole and they soon drive off slowly leaving the farm and their house property. The drive in their town roads were slowly coming into view and Jaemin let’s out a soft laugh at Yeeun’s question. He trusts Jeno. They went through high school, through kindergarten. They were friends since they were very small at this point Jaemin would put his life on the line for Lee Jeno.

With one hand Jaemin would drive the steering wheel on the car turning round the corner while his left hand was now moving forward to hold Yeeun’s hand softly. He looks back at her for a second only because he needed all his attention on the road as he was driving. “Don’t worry about them being okay, yeah? Jeno is someone I trust with all my heart. He will take good care of them until we go home.”

The hand contact was something new it made Yeeun’s heart race as she saw their hands touching now a lot longer than a second too. She sighs. Jaemin was right this was a date and not a worrying therapy session about her children. “You’re right. So where are you taking me then? Some fancy restaurant?” Yeeun smirks guessing.

She hopes it’s a fancy restaurant where she can have steak or something like that. It would be a perfect date in her book. If Yeeun had to pick. The steak and wine combination for a date at a fancy eloquent restaurant would be an amazing date to go with Jaemin at.

The mention of a fancy restaurant makes Jaemin laugh and shake his head, he was amused to say the least that his wife has high expectations. Well. He’s about to lower them and say goodbye to a fancy restaurant idea. “Oh no no darling. No fancy restaurant.” He smirks.

“I’ll be taking you somewhere more fun and traditional bunny lips.” He smirks wiggling his eyebrows forward which makes Yeeun already think something so bad.

She shouldn’t be having negative thoughts but the way Jaemin was lowering her expectations of what their date was gonna be like. Well. Yeeun was seated in the far tightly as she lets her husband drive them to the secret location.

The drive to the place Jaemin was taking Yeeun to was a bit far from their home but not that far if you don’t walk. By far it was a decent drive. He would come out of the car and Yeeun opens her car door by herself. She wasn’t even sure why she expected Jaemin to open the car door for her, he was walking ahead and when he saw behind that the woman was not following he yells in front motioning a waving hand at her to follow him. “Come on, we can’t miss this tickets!” He yells.

‘Ugh he can’t even open the door and wait for me?…’ Yeeun sighs in her head thoughts.

The area they lived in was always the countryside and almost kinda poor-like with working class. So when she starts to walk following Jaemin behind who bought their fair tickets. It was like an open fair that opened up today. He took her to a local fair with many running games available to do. They walk side by side and Yeeun’s eyes widen at how many rides there was too.

It wasn’t something Yeeun expected, that’s for sure.

He saw her expression searching everything she’s seeing as if getting information where she was at. Jaemin smirks and grabs her hand now. “Come on, don’t get lost. Take my hand.” The man lead her and Yeeun let’s him taking her hand as they held hands while walking amongst other people.

Somehow the warmth in her heart grew when Jaemin was holding her hand so tight leading her to a certain stand where it caught her attention. They were selling all sorts of prizes if you manage to shoot the running duck toys on the wall with the shotgun that has pebbles in it.

Yeeun raised an eye at one of the prizes. It was a a bracelet made up of string but it had a little gemstone in the middle, it was something the young woman noticed first.

Her husband looks at Yeeun and stands behind her to see what she was watching so intensely. “Ah you want the arm bracelet, Yeeun?” Jaemin smirks and he thinks it’s an easy one way job to get for her right now.

He didn’t waste a second but motions to the stand owner. “One shot gun. I want that bracelet up there as the prize. How much do I need to shoot?” The stand owner looks back at the prize and then looks back at Jaemin. “Five ducks.”

‘Five… there’s no way he can manage to shoot five ducks right?’ Yeeun wasn’t sure actually. She can’t remember if he was good at shooting or if he knew how to work it out.

When staring at the man grabbing the shotgun and getting it ready with a proper aim at the running ducks on the walls. It’s like goose hunting. He was chasing the ducks with the aim trying to get one. He was silent and focused when Yeeun was watching him and it feels almost intense right now. Even the owner of the stand was now watching Jaemin with not much expectations.

But even if no one was believing in him. Jaemin shown no fear and no mistakes. The shotgun runs up and he ends up getting the first duck. It struck so quickly that when Jaemin reloads the shotgun it makes Yeeun’s eyes widen trying to make sense of how quick the pebbles were shot at the duck.

He got one, and that one duck turned into four other ducks as he manages to shoot all five remaining ducks to win the bracelet prize.

Jaemin smirks as he takes the bracelet and puts the shotgun back. He then whistles approaching Yeeun on the side. “What’s with the surprised look?” He laughs a bit seeing Yeeun pale as she wasn’t expecting her husband to be so good at aiming with a shotgun.

“I didn’t know you knew how to shoot?” Yeeun said back with a laugh. Jaemin’s smirk never leaves his face as his big round eyes and his long fluttering eyelashes poke at Yeeun’s expression when taking a step forward holding out her arm. The softness of his touch makes her heart race so much more prominently; and his breath was deep as Jaemin’s soft still eyes looking down at her wrist as he tied the bracelet on her wrist finally. “There is a lot of things you don’t remember about me, bunny lips.” Jaemin’s deep and low voice spoke with a smirk as Yeeun looks up at him taking back her wrist when he was done putting on the bracelet.

There was silence between them but Yeeun and Jaemin were brought back to reality when the smell of food passing the fair streets makes her stomach tingle. The growling sound makes Yeeun feel slightly exposed.

She completely forgot to eat earlier today. Jaemin looks at Yeeun with a soft laugh when seeing her become slightly shocked to hear her stomach make such a loud sound. “Hmm, hungry Yeeun?” He grins and she looks at Jaemin with an eye roll. ��No, I’m starving.” She emphasised.

There was Yeeun again, with her little eye rolls thrown at his words as he asks the most obvious questions. They begin to walk somewhere more quiet. The fair was getting quite busy the later it gets and so on. Jaemin didn’t really want to eat dinner filled with crowds. And he most certainly prefers some alone time too with Yeeun. It’s a luxury to be alone like this after all. They might as well make most of it.

There was the coastal sea and the brick walls that you can watch the sea crashing against. Yeeun puts her handbag down on the brick wall as she leans with her elbows forward watching the ocean waves crashing down, back and forward, upwards. It sounded so magical to be close to the sea like this and Yeeun closed her eyes inhaling the air.

It feels so cold and refreshing. It makes Yeeun’s body feel so much better. Currently she was alone waiting for someone to come back. Jaemin told her he’s getting food so he told her to wait here for him until then.

When Yeeun was wondering where the man could’ve gotten lost Jaemin appears behind her and leans on the brick wall. He takes out a foiled food. Yeeun was expecting something cleaner, less greasy. The sight of the filled up sandwich with chopped up meat and melted cheese makes Yeeun salivate but also, she wasn’t expecting to be eating greased up meat and cheese.

Jaemin hums taking a bite of the sandwich too. “Here you take a bite you’re hungry aren’t you?” She scowls and shakes her head. “I’m good, you eat up. I’ll eat at home.”

The words she said makes Jaemin smirk as he took another bite and puts the sandwich under Yeeun’s nose which makes her smell how good it actually was. She was just stubborn to want to take a bite out of something that’s greasy and more un-healthy in her eyes.

“Come on, Bunny lips. Don’t be stubborn. One bite?” Jaemin urgently said as he watches her fighting her inner urges and conflict.

Yeeun murmurs. “No I’m fine, not hungry anymore. Looks unpleasant.”

But the moment her eyes were watching the sandwich Jaemin takes a bite out again she couldn’t help but gulp. Her hungry stomach was growing more hungry watching Jaemin eat and she slowly comes closer.

“Fine. Give me one bite…” Yeeun trails as Jaemin smirks giving her the sandwich in the foil paper. When he saw the girl take a bite out of the sandwich it fills his loving eyes on her. He loves seeing Yeeun try the food he eats only.

It’s something he’s used to. Yeeun wasn’t so used to this kind of food, but when he saw her obvious reaction it was clear that she loved it. The moment the bite she took from the sandwich Yeeun let’s out a soft moan and nods as she ate. “Mhmm…” It was clear that his wife loved it, and she was wrong about this food. Jaemin smirks. “Is it good?”

She gulps down chewing the sandwich, she takes another bite going back for seconds, it makes Jaemin almost proud he introduced Yeeun to some good culture over here. “Oh god how come i didn’t find this earlier?”

Yeeun exclaims.

He chuckles and he motions his hands to the sandwich. “Let me take a bite too—“ Yeeun moves her hands away and she shakes her head. Jaemin laughs as she moved away. “Okay okay you eat up, it’s good you’re eating.” He states giving up. It’s obvious she won’t be sharing as it’s too good to her right now. Like a new addiction probably.

Yeeun and Jaemin turn to the ocean view as it was nighttime with a cold breeze running against them and their clothes. She finished eating the sandwich now but Jaemin and Yeeun continue to watch the waves crashing.

“Hmm did you ever travel, Jaemin?” Yeeun asked the man and he softly smiles. “No, but I wish I did.” He sighs.

“Many people born in these deprived areas don’t have the money to travel.” Jaemin started to state the facts. The poor people stay poor.

Yeeun looks at Jaemin softly and she gives him a gentle smile as her hands brush over his hand intertwining their fingers together. Somehow holding hands became natural today. They never held hands before until today.

“Someday we can travel. I’ll make it a promise.” Yeeun softly said to him. She spoke in a soft spoken tone that Jaemin couldn’t even imagine to hear from her ever.

It was different. They’re now speaking openly with softness. It wasn’t like before at all.

Jaemin’s eyes watch Yeeun’s as she said that she would make this come true for him and it made his lips seal together in a thin line.

Sometimes he can feel this invisible thread pulling him towards her heart even more.

The pull, the rough drag, the urge to kiss Yeeun too. Deep inside beneath his harden skin and his high iron walls Jaemin keeps up, there was this heavy heavy gravity of Yeeun’s words resting at the end pit.

And it’s changing him very slowly, breaking at the iron walls he keeps on.

Their bodies were still but Jaemin’s head tilts on the side and softly moves closer letting their lips touch softly. The kiss feels like standing on top of the finest silk or on top of a cloud. Yeeun’s eyes closed and Jaemin’s hands brushed up on her face caressing his thumbs down her cheeks, deepening their soft kiss, she feels the hitching breath stop and her cheeks growing warmer.

The sound of their lips leaving, it was like a wet soft small sound between them that their kiss made when it came off. Jaemin looks down at Yeeun and he slowly brings his hands down her face, admiring how beautiful Yeeun looks tonight.

“I want to apologise for you know…not helping around the house and for not being there for the kids.” Jaemin trails awkwardly. He wasn’t the best at making apologies but it was his goal to give one to Yeeun.

Yeeun was the most shocked though. An apology from Jaemin?

Perhaps Jaemin was changing, Yeeun thought. “Thank you, Jaemin…”

Meanwhile back at home the children were having the time of their lives with their uncle Jeno. But it must be the opposite for their uncle right now, because this feels like utter hell on earth.

Jeno was tied against the stairway railings now with his hands handcuffed by dog leads. One of the children, he can’t remember who, managed to tie his hands with dog leashes!

“Whoever tied me come untie me! Your parents will be hearing about this.” Jeno warns as he sighs, he wishes judgement day came and took him now because he can’t deal with babysitting five rotten devils.

Hanuel the eldest was watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a large spoon. “Uncle Jeno you should really stop shouting, it’s pointless.” Hanuel smartly suggests.

“Be glad you’re not stuck with the pigs like last time.” The older boy said again with a smirk as Hanuel went back to eating the ice cream.

Jeno wants to roll his eyes at the boy’s smart-ass attitude. This kid is meant to be the oldest but why was he the meanest?

Then the twins, those twins were making a mess in the kitchen playing with pots and pans. They rattle and rattle everywhere. Meanwhile their older sister Haewon was trying to bake a cake right now. She’s making the cake batter.

‘Oh how brilliant,’ Jeno thought. Jaemin and Yeeun are having the time of their lives but back home it was chaos running wild like a spreading fire.

Then Jeno’s thoughts stop when Yongsoo was by the top of the stairs with a skateboard. The youngest boy was there ready to roll over with a skateboard down thinking it’s going to be a smooth ride, but Jeno was there in the way and he will be crashed into.

“Oh… Yongsoo! No! Don’t slide down.” Jeno shouts but he came too late to warn the boy as he rolls down with a skateboard and crashed into Jeno’s back knocking Jeno out cold while Yongsoo was sliding down with a little ‘Weeeeeeeee’ happy sound coming out of the boy’s lips.

Jeno will never be babysitting here again, even if Jaemin paid him like this time! He won’t do it again!

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Sorry this took so long, chapter 5 is coming out this week too!! I decided to release 2 parts this week because I was very far behind this series </33

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates on my blog this is a series!

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swagmagussupreme · 11 months ago

Text

@whiterose-fans-blog White Rose in Bloom, Day 6: First Kiss

Redid one of my favorite early Darkening Horizons chapters, Scar Tissue. Now it's not sad :D

Content warning for suggestive stuff, blood.

Words: 3642

Weiss felt like hell.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. In all ways, she was addled. Her legs were sore, her Aura was sore, somehow. Her brain was constantly replaying that move in her head, that normal move— swish, backstep into forward lunge, opening slash with Rosenwache, thrust with Myrtenaster— something that was so regular that Ruby should've read it, she'd expected Ruby to read it.

But Ruby, for once, had not surpassed her partner's expectations. She hadn't dodged, so Myrtenaster had split her Aura open and cut a deep rift into her intercostals. Weiss had failed Qrow's first lesson— gauging the Aura, knowing when that barrier would break, pulling back to reduce chances of lethality. Such was the nature of their second year. Physical education was replaced with self-defense, preparation for a second incursion on the level of that train incident, only this time with more people to fight.

Weiss could still feel her sword running through her own partner's flesh, could still see the way her blood settled into the circuitous dust channels of her blade. She could remember the hot, sweaty smell of the amphitheater, full of teens fighting, full of students who weren't splitting open the person they were supposed to trust most. The sound Ruby had made. The yelp. The hiss. The strangled ‘Weiss!’

She had cut her partner. Weiss had cut Ruby. Her best friend, her confidante, the person who had spent so long whittling down all the shittiest parts of her just to uncover the tiny nugget of tenderness inside— she had cut her!

Now they were in the infirmary. Ruby's side was thickly bandaged. Weiss couldn't bear to look at her partner, but the idea of leaving sickened her, so she sat at her bedside, impotently staring at the hands that’d cut her Ruby— her partner.

“Weiss, it's okay,” Ruby insisted. “It's just a cut. Doc said it'd only be a day, at most.”

Just a cut. Just a cut? Weiss scowled, her gut panging like she'd stuck Rosenwache in it. “I cut you.”

“Sure ya did.” Weiss cringed, but Ruby continued without any severity or pain. “I've been cut before, y'know. Way worse, too. Remember Bartramb?”

Weiss would never forget Bartramb; Ruby had nearly died of blood loss. “Bartramb was a Grimm, Ruby. I am your partner. I'm not supposed to hurt you.”

Being as good as she was, her partner was having none of it. Ruby threw herself out of bed without so much as a wince, and stormed up to Weiss with none of the gingerness that someone so wounded should have. She kneeled in front of the heiress, forcing herself into the girl's line of sight, and reached out from her uninjured side— the right— to lay a hand on her shoulder. She even pushed the half-cape aside to do it, throwing the extravagant white cloth over her back to grip Weiss more directly through her dress shirt.

Ruby spoke softly, carefully, in the way she always spoke to Weiss when she was being serious— the way that always melted right through the heiress’ chest, the way they got to her better than anyone else’s screams and abuse ever had, the way that, if she did it for too long, would make Weiss blush without fail. “You know, I'd be doing the exact same thing if I'd hurt you, and you'd be doing exactly this.”

Weiss huffed, turning her eyes away from Ruby's. She didn't want to get lost in them. How such a cold, metallic color could be so warm, she would never know.

Ruby's next words had an audible smile peeking through: “You'd probably be a bit more harsh, but my point still stands.”

Damn her. Damn Ruby Rose. Nurturing a healthy self-loathing had always been impossible around her. Weiss cautiously met her eyes. “I—” her voice cracked, she choked. “I'm sorry.”

Then Ruby, being Ruby— the incredible, understanding, caring partner that she was, that Weiss didn't deserve— pulled her into a one-armed hug.

A year ago, Weiss would've killed her. Eight months ago, Weiss would've at least pushed her away. If it'd been anyone else, the body would never be found.

But it was Ruby, so Weiss hugged her back like she wouldn't see her again. She buried her face in the girl’s neck. She breathed slowly, deeply, in the way she always kind of hoped Ruby would notice. The scythe-wielder smelled like effort, with a background tang of gun oil that was always there, as if attached to her spirit, along with the fading scent of her rosy shampoo. She smelled more like home than Atlas ever had.

Ruby winced, so Weiss moved her left arm to hug around the girl's neck instead, and the instant compulsion to hold the back of her head made Weiss’ cheeks warm. Ruby sighed.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the infirmary, until the intrusion of a tall, ginger nurse made them jump apart. She scolded Ruby for getting out of bed, changed her bandages, then checked her Aura levels. After much begging, Ruby managed to negotiate a return to her dorm with the promise to avoid strenuous activity. To Ruby's chagrin, this included wielding Crescent Rose. She agreed nonetheless.

Weiss escorted her back to their dorm, throwing a concerned glance every time Ruby half-stepped or made a noise. While such attention usually delighted the scythe-wielder, this time it clearly irked her. “Dude, chill. I'm not gonna fall apart the moment you look away.”

Weiss scowled, but said nothing, instead continuing to lead her partner by the hand.

“Seriously, I'm not a kid.”

The heiress didn't respond.

“Weiss, look at me.”

Weiss opened their dorm. Nobody greeted her entrance, what with Yang doing her usual after-class gym routine and Blake doing whatever she does in her free time. As soon as they entered the room, Weiss led her partner to her bunk.

She jerked back suddenly, courtesy of Ruby digging her heels into the carpet. “Weiss, stop,” she demanded. Her partner turned, confused.

“I'm just trying to take care of you,” Weiss insisted, squeezing her palm against her partner's. “Like you did for me; remember when I broke my shin?”

Ruby slipped her hand out and shook her head. “Weiss, this is different. We are different. When have you ever seen me just rest?”

Weiss opened her mouth, but snapped it shut when she realized the nurse's advice was about to slip out— Ruby wouldn't listen to that.

Ruby took her silence as her opportunity to speak. “The wound's pretty much closed. I'm gonna get these bandages off, hop in the shower, then we can go to town. Our first mission is scheduled for next week, so we need to run some errands.”

Weiss wanted to object, but she knew Ruby too well to disagree. She wasn't a person who could physically be still, and her freakishly fast Aura had already done a lot of work on that wound— telling Ruby she couldn't go would only make her do things alone, which was considerably more dangerous. Weiss nodded.

Ruby gave her a small smile in return, extracting some street-clothes from her dresser before stepping into the bathroom. Weiss heard the water turn on after a few minutes, so she sighed and undid her cape, folding it neatly atop her dresser.

She managed to undo the top three buttons of her shirt before a yelp froze her stiff. Weiss immediately threw herself upon the bathroom door, her voice frantic, “Are you okay? Ruby? I heard a noise!”

“Yeah— yep, uh-huh, yes. I am o-kay. Just, uh, cold water?”

Weiss sighed. The poor girl wouldn't last a minute in Atlas. “I'm coming in.”

Ruby let out another squeak, this time more panicked than pained. “Don't look!”

“I'll cover my eyes.”

Ruby remained silent, which Weiss took as a cue to enter, her hand shielding her eyes. She could immediately feel the steam and heat messing up her hair, but blindly stumbled towards the sound of rushing water nonetheless, her free hand stretched out in front. She called into the room, “Ruby?”

Her partner's voice came back thin, unsure. “Y-yeah?”

The cool glass screen of their bath-shower combo pressed against Weiss’ palm. She stopped. “What happened?”

Ruby gave her best attempt at a disarming chuckle, which was wholly ineffective. “I, uh, guess I probably shoulda figured that stre-tching was stre-nuous, huh?”

Weiss tutted. “Did you reopen the cut?”

“Not really. Only a little. Partially. Yes.”

“Ruby, I'm going to open my eyes.”

“You can't!” Ruby whined. “Why!”

“To make sure you're okay, you dolt!”

“I'm fine, really! It's better than it looks!”

That was the opposite of comforting. “I'm going to look,” Weiss warned, spreading her—

“Wait! Not yet!” Weiss kept her eyes shielded. “O-okay. Go ahead. Make it quick.”

The heiress slowly peeled her hand from her face, feeling every strain of muscle as she ground her jaw forward with anticipation. Her heart started to surge hotly in her chest. She could see Ruby’s silhouette through the steamy, frosted glass, and slid the screen aside before she could think about it

She met Ruby’s eyes for half a second before the scythe-wielder turned to face the wall. Her shoulders hitched high, she shrank under the heiress’ gaze, and her voice lacked all the confidence and humor that it needed. “Y-y’know, uh… people usually go on a couple dates before seeing each other… like this.”

Weiss stared, slack-jawed. She was speechless, and Ruby's words slid away like water off a duck's back. The cut was reopened, the wound shallow, now, but long enough to drain an eerie, watered-down red along the girl's rosy skin. It looked like a long papercut— Ruby said her Aura healed quickly because she got injured so often— but that wasn't what really caught Weiss’ attention. It was nothing compared to the rest of her.

Ruby's back was a mural of scar tissue. Nicks and cuts lined her outline, ran over her shoulders and the back of her arms, fanned out along her shoulder blades, stretched across her lower back— claw-marks, cuts from glass, gashes from debris— and they all surrounded the middle of Ruby's back as if to pay reverence to her crowning set: Bartramb's scars. Three of the most wretched, gnarled, painful-looking gashes Weiss had ever seen crossed her partner's back in raised, pink ridges of uneven tissue.

She'd never seen them before. Ruby's cape had kept them covered when she got them, they hadn't been close enough for Weiss to be with her in the infirmary like today, and Ruby always kept herself well-covered in terms of clothing. Sure, her sleeveless pajamas showed off the faint scars on her arms, but that was the most Weiss had ever seen.

And now she had the opportunity to see everything, but her eyes wouldn't move off the trio of marks in the middle. They were huge, each one at least three fingers thick, and they were still so ragged despite being almost a year old. Didn't they hurt?

After a prolonged moment of silence from the heiress, Ruby suddenly turned, snatching her wrist and slapping Weiss with the realization that she'd been reaching out to touch the scars. From the corner of her vision, Weiss probably could've seen Ruby's mouth open, readying some rebuke, but Weiss wasn't seeing that. She wasn't seeing that at all.

The moment of silence stretched for ages. Weiss’ jaw ground forward, her face flushed a bright red, but she couldn't move her eyes.

The panic of realization struck Ruby at a snail's pace, but when it did, she pushed her partner away and yanked the glass screen closed with two yelps— one when her brain caught up to the fact that Weiss was staring at her breasts, and another when pulling the screen closed agitated her wound, making her reel back to the tile wall and hiss.

The fog over Weiss’ mind split at her partner's cries. She scrambled towards the glass again, stammering, “Ruby! Are you okay!”

“Yes!” Ruby lied through grit teeth. “I. Am. Fine!”

Weiss peeked around the half-closed screen, just long enough to see her partner holding the wound, blood leaking between her fingers, before she darted back and scrubbed at her eyes. She rushed to the sink, opened cabinets and drawers, rifling through Yang's absurd collection of name-brand makeups before she found a roll of gauze and a bandage. Her face, her chest, her throat, everything felt strangely hollow, as if her nerves had peaked and left her feeling numb. “I set out a bandage,” Weiss’ voice said. “Will you be able to put it on?”

“I…”

“Don't lie. Please.”

A heavy pause. Ruby turned the water off. “Probably not. It might stretch again.”

Weiss grabbed a towel off the rack and thrust it past the screen, keeping her own traitorous gaze firmly away from the opening. When the towel was tugged out of her hand, Weiss turned around and marched a few feet away, waiting for the sounds of feet-on-tile and towel-on-skin before looking at her partner again.

Ruby had the towel wrapped under her arms, covering her completely. Blood visibly pooled on the side. Weiss handed her another towel, turned back around, waited until Ruby let out a meek ‘okay’, and looked again to see one towel hanging over her waist while the other one— the bloody one— hung down from her shoulders, clutched tightly in the middle.

Weiss silently approached with the bandage and gauze. Ruby adjusted her top towel to cover her chest more surely before raising her arm, exposing the cut. Weiss bandaged and wrapped it. Neither said a word until the wound was covered.

“I've never seen your back before,” the heiress said, watching her partner's face. “I didn't know it was that bad.”

Ruby scrunched up her face and adjusted her top towel. “Bad? Why would it be bad?”

“Have you seen them? They're—” Weiss sensibly guillotined her words. Unfortunately, they tumbled out of Ruby's mouth instead.

“Ugly? Grotesque?” The scythe-wielder grew a tiny, shaky grin. “Is that what you think?”

Weiss reeled back and raised her hands. “N-no, I didn't mean it like that!”

Ruby's grin turned into a more full smirk. “Yeah, ya did. You just didn't say it.”

The heiress sagged, ashamed, but her partner's tittering laugh made her look up again.

Ruby smiled at her. “It's okay, seriously. I used to think like that, but that sucked, so I decided to see them as trophies! Proof that I, Ruby Rose, kick ass.”

Weiss stared at her partner in awe, only to jolt when she jabbed a finger towards her eye, gesturing over the vertical scar there.

“Isn't that how you see yours?”

Weiss touched that scar, feeling its marbled tissue beneath her index and middle fingers. She had survived. She had beaten that trial. Weiss Schnee, to her own surprise, kicked ass.

Ruby's smile softened, and she too reached up to drift a finger along the scar’s edge. Weiss’ breath froze in her lungs. “Sorry I flipped on ya,” the scythe-wielder said.

Their eyes met. The room was hot, the air still thick with steam. The breath in Weiss’ lungs sat heavy, daring her to push it out, daring her to say what she wanted to say. Her eyes felt wide. Her hands twitched. Ruby was so tall, now.

Ruby’s smile was gone. She gulped, and Weiss’ eyes flickered to watch her pale throat bob. “Weiss,” Ruby's voice was a whisper, but it sounded deeper than Weiss had ever heard. “Do you want to touch them?”

The heiress looked up at her partner. She blinked.

“M-my scars,” Ruby clarified, her gaze sliding away, her mouth twitched up in a nervous, beautiful half-smile. “You can, if you want, since… you're my…”

Weiss could almost hear the word ‘partner’ in the air, and she was glad Ruby didn't say it. It would've felt like a line. She didn't like lines, right now, so she nodded. Her head felt heavy.

Ruby gave her one last smile before shooing her off and telling her to wait in the dorm.

Weiss left the bathroom in a daze. It took her a long time to realize her hands were shaking. She was going to touch her scars. Ruby's scars. Ruby's scars. Ruby's scars. It was… that wasn't something partners did. It couldn't be. It was intimate. Weiss touched her own scar again, feeling it, remembering how Ruby had touched it. It was intimate. Ruby had touched her scar.

But… but she couldn't, she'd have to take her to Atlas at some point, she couldn't put Ruby through that. That wasn't right. Ruby deserved a normal girl. Ruby probably didn't even like girls, probably didn't really like her, she was just trying to cheer her up with the scar thing! That was it!

The bathroom door opened with a waft of steam, a push of heat, and a Ruby Rose clad in basketball shorts and a giant t-shirt. She walked into the dorm slowly, her mouth a nervous twist. She didn't meet Weiss’ eyes until she was right in front of her.

In one move that instantly made Weiss’ mouth dry, Ruby grabbed the hem of her shirt and whipped it all the way off, which would've brought the question of ‘well, why'd she put on the shirt in the first place’ if Weiss’ brain wasn't already short-circuiting at the sight of her partner's black bra. Somehow, this felt even more scandalous than actually seeing her exposed chest, like the latter had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that Weiss’ brain hadn't processed what her eyes had seen. Now her brain was working.

Ruby was built like a marble statue depicting shredded chicken, which was a terrible comparison, but it was all Weiss could manage as her overclocking brain made her skin explode with heat. She was all lines and lean muscle, her shoulders hard, corded bundles above biceps and triceps and forearms and she had abs, dear gods, she had abs—

“Okay, uh,” Ruby’s nervous voice smacked Weiss like… like another terrible analogy, one that Weiss couldn't even concoct now because she had to focus on not being weird. It took everything just to grab her partner's words and process them between her ears. “I'll turn around, and you can… u-unclasp my bra and just… yeah.”

Weiss nodded. Ruby turned around. Nothing felt real. Not the air on Weiss’ skin, not the sound of their collective breathing, not the taste of her own numb mouth, not even the synthetic fabric of Ruby’s bra beneath her fingers. She unclasped it, and Ruby jumped to hold it up in the front despite it not being strapless.

Ruby's back was open to her, covered in trophies. Weiss’ hand trembled above the skin. It was warm.

She wanted to explode. She wanted to tell Ruby everything. That she was beautiful, that she was an amazing leader, that she was an idiot, that she wanted to have her, that she was pretty sure she loved her. She wanted to say what she was going to do, what she was going to involve herself in, what she was going to put at risk, and she wanted to beg Ruby to be there for her.

Ruby looked over her shoulder, saw the conflict in her partner's eyes, and gave a tiny nod before grabbing Weiss’ wrist and placing it right against the biggest of Bartramb’s scars.

Weiss flinched. Ruby's hand fled her wrist, returning to the front. Weiss touched her scars.

The raised tissue was softer than it looked, uneven, clearly different from the unscathed skin around it. She ran her hand up and down the mark, testing how each scar felt against her palm, then her fingertips, then her whole hand. She brought her other hand up to feel as well, tracing the flesh with two palms, two eyes, ten fingers.

Ruby let out a low hiss, nearly making Weiss pull away before she leaned further into the touch, pressing herself harder against the heiress’ ministrations. Weiss could feel her heartbeat— her own and Ruby's— and she started to knead the tissue. Just a slight press in the heels of her palms and the tips of her fingers. Ruby let out a tiny groan. Weiss’ head swam at the sound.

Her hands were shaking, quaking— she could feel it, but she couldn't care. She couldn't tear herself away. She didn't want to. These were trophies, these were proof that her partner was here, that she was alive, and they deserved something for that. Ruby deserved something. She deserved everything, she deserved to know, Weiss wanted her to know— the words were there, they were in her chest, boiling in her lungs, ripping out of her throat, burning her tongue as she opened her mouth—

“Hey, Ruby?”

She didn't lift her fingers. She kept doing what she was doing. Ruby didn't stop her, didn't even turn. “Yeah?”

“I think I like girls.”

Ruby's head bobbed a tiny bit. “Oh. Yeah, me too.”

“I think you're one of the girls I like.”

Ruby's head bobbed again. “Yeah. Me too. You too.”

“I like you.”

Ruby turned her head. Silver met cerulean. “I've had a crush on you since I blew us up.”

Weiss nodded. “It was the ‘riding on a nevermore’ thing, for me.”

“Really? Not more recent?”

“No.” Weiss shook her head. “Sorry I didn't tell you.”

Ruby smiled. “It's okay.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

Weiss fixed her bra. Ruby turned. Her eyes darted down the middle of Weiss’ scandalously unbuttoned shirt. “You, uh… trying to seduce me with that?”

The heiress looked down at herself, laughed, and looked back up at her partner. “Shut up and kiss me, dolt.”

And Ruby did kiss her. It was good.

#my writing #fanfic #ruby rose #weiss schnee #whiterose #white rose in bloom

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