#i’ve just moved house over the weekend

[neondiamond]

.

[lambentplume]

yapping aimlessly tonight

[laligraves]

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 

She throws a sponge at your head. 

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  

- 

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 

“Good morning,” you whisper. 

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 

“How did you know–” 

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 

“How dare you–”  

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 

His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 

“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from. 

[strang3lov3]

Chevelle

Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)

Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.

A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.

Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.

Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷

It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 

Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.

Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 

-

You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.

You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 

You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 

You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.

The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 

“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 

You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.

You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.

-

In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 

When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.

What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 

-

The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”

“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”

“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”

Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 

You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.

“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”

“Mm,” you hum.

“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 

“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”

“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 

Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”

Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.

“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 

Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”

“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 

Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 

The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”

“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 

 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”

You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”

Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 

“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”

“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”

Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 

He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”

“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 

Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 

You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”

You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.

 “Is that it?” 

“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”

His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”

Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 

You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 

“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.

Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 

He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”

You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.

What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 

“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 

Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.

He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”

The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 

You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 

“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”

Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”

His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 

“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 

“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 

Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.

From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 

“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”

You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 

“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”

You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”

It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”

Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”

You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.

“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.

He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 

Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 

You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 

“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”

Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.

Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 

His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 

Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 

 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“You want me…”

“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.

He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3

From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻

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The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[miniwheat77]

Army Green. (Ghost x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Age gap (Reader is 20, Simon is 32), unprotected sex, p in v sex, virginity loss, animal getting hurt, Simon in distress, PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. (Sorry if I missed any.)

It’s a sunny day, you’ve spent most of the day outside.

Mostly working on your yard, but you didn’t always mind. It did get rough sometimes of course, living alone and doing all of the work constantly. You lived in a pretty small house. It had a smaller yard, gravel driveway. It was fenced in. It was nice.

Sometimes the work piled up, getting busy, trying to pull yourself out of a funk. Especially because doing 100% of the work was new to you. Since you’d just gotten out of a serious relationship. It was a tough situation. You’d moved out with your boyfriend at 18. You were together for the better part of your teenage years, your first real boyfriend, the only serious boyfriend you’d ever had.

The break up was miserable and rough. The fights were bad, the messages were vulgar and laced with venom. It was a really rough breakup that left you damaged.

You went from a two person household, to one. Having to work more to pay the bills, having to pick up the rest of the household chores and somehow still stay sane. It was tough, but you managed. You had a few friends that helped you stay busy, and you were thankful for that.

You were sitting on your couch, it was the weekend and you didn’t want to spend all of it doing yard work. Your friends were supposed to be coming over and you were excited to spend the night with them. Just as you finished cleaning up your house, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing that it was your friends, you yelled for them to come inside. They walked in with all kinds of drinks and snacks in their hands, ready to have a good night.

“Dude, your neighbor is super weird.” One of them mumbles. “He wears a mask with like.. a skull face on it.” She mumbles. “Yeah?” You laugh. “Why does that make him weird?” You question her. “That’s all he ever wears. I’ve never seen him in anything else.”

“So what. Maybe he doesn’t want people seeing his face.” You shrug. “Whatever. I think it’s weird.” She shrugs. “Maybe he’s like.. super hot and doesn’t want people to know.” Your other friend smiles. “Maybe. Walk over there and find out for me.” You nudge her. Earning a laugh from them. “You’ve never met him?” She asks. You shake your head. “No. I’ve actually never even seen him, I didn’t know he wore a skull mask.” You shrug. They laugh. Eventually the subject changes.

Later that night as you’re sitting on the couch, you’re all about to go to bed. “What if your neighbor is super hot?” She asks again. “There’s tons of hot people, be specific.” You toss a piece of popcorn at her. “I mean.. what if he’s like super hot. You should talk to him.” She shrugs. “Um. I’m pretty sure he’s like 30.” The other one laughs. “Oh.. well damn.” She sighs. “What’s wrong with him being 30? Why would that stop me?” You ask. They both look at you like you’ve just called them the worst names known to mankind. “Jesus! You whore!” They laugh. “I’m serious! What’s wrong with that.” You giggle. “Just.. not your own age?”

“Maybe that’s why guys suck so bad. Maybe we need to branch out a bit. Go for the weird old guys that wear skull masks.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you. “Maybe.” You smirk. “Nah, I’m not trying anything with anyone. Maybe not ever after Wesley.” You roll your eyes. “Oh please, Wesley wouldn’t see a good girl if he got hit by one.”

“Clearly.” The other rolls her eyes. “It’s just because I wasn’t ready.” You mumble. Earning glances for them. “Ready for what?”

“Sex.” They perk up. “What? You were together for that long and never had sex?”

“No?”

“Why not?”

“Because.. I’ve never had sex before? And wasn’t ready?” You laugh awkwardly. They’re both staring at you in confusion. “Well shit. We didn’t know that.” They laugh. “Damn. Whole new perspective.” They laugh softly.

“Yeah, my poor ‘old’ neighbor probably heard those nasty fights, no way he’d fuck around with a girl like me.” You laugh. “Never know until you try.”

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight you two.” You laugh, walking back into your bedroom. You settle into your bed, eyes heavy as you fade into a deep sleep.

You hear whining outside, it startles you awake.

You look at your phone, it’s early. The sun has just barely risen, it’s still mostly dark. Cascades of blue painting the sky. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you hear it again. It sounds like a dog in pain.

You climb out of bed, walking out to your living room. You can still hear it faintly. Your friends are still asleep on the couch and you open your front door quietly, peeking outside. It’s cold, chills creep up your legs and arms immediately, maybe a bad time to sleep in a tank top and shorts. You step outside, covering yourself with your arms as you look around for the sound you’re hearing. You notice the noise is louder now, along with rattling. You spot a dog, it’s got it’s paw stuck in your fence. Fairly close to your bedroom, that’s why you heard it.

“Shit-“ you mumble. You jog lightly to get to her. It’s your neighbors dog, you assume the one with the skull mask. “Hey, stop moving.” You mumble as she tugs to free her paw. You hear a door open and close behind you, noticing it’s your neighbor.

And he doesn’t have on a skull mask.

“Shite, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she’d gotten out.” He says as he jogs to you. You can hear the gravel giving away under his feet. “It’s alright. No worries.” You mumble. You unwrap her paw. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.” You mumble. As she whines more. Once you free her paw, she frantically licks at it. “Let me see it darling.” You breathe, reaching your hand out. To your surprise she lies down, rolling onto her back so that you could get a good look at her. Your neighbor crouches down to check the rest of her as you look at her paw. “Just a scratch.” You smile. “Yeah, she’s a bit over dramatic.” The man laughs. “I heard her whining.” You laugh. “Yeah. If I accidentally bump her she’ll yelp like I’ve cut her leg off.” He smiles. His accent is thick and his voice is incredibly deep.

And your friends were absolutely right, he’s hot as hell.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met.” You stand up. He stands up with you, reaching his hand out. “I’m Simon.” You send him a smile. “Y/N.” He smiles. “Ah, and this is my dramatic princess Paisley.” He looks down at her. “Nothing wrong with a little bit of embellishment, gets the attention you need.” You smile down at her. He laughs at this. “Anyways, sorry for waking you, love.” You feel your cheeks warm at his pet name. “No worries, I’m just glad she’s alright.”

“Cmon, back to bed with you.” He nods his head at the dog and she walks with him back to their house. You make your way back to your door, stepping inside. You forget that your friends are there and they stir awake with the sound of your door closing. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

“My neighbors dog got stuck in the fence.”

“Is it okay?”

“Yeah she’s fine. But you were right. He’s hot as fuck.” You laugh. Walking passed them, going back into your room.

—

It’s been a while since you’ve had a day off, picking up extra shifts and doing more and more work so that you could afford your house. It was getting rough. You didn’t see much of your neighbor, aside from passing. He did always wear a skull mask which you found weird. Until you were up early and seen him leaving one day.

He was wearing full military attire, Paisley had on a vest and he was telling her to get into the back of his truck, that’s when it clicked.

His accent, why he was always gone, his large build, the mask. It all made sense now.

Your next day off, you’re sitting in a coffee shop with your friends and they’re making fun of you. It’s a gathering, an every once in a while coincidence that all of you had the same day off. “So what’s going on with everyone else? I feel like I’ve been talking about myself this entire time.”

“Not much.” Everyone mumbles.

“Oh, Y/N’s neighbor is smoking hot, I’m waiting for her to announce that she has a controversially older boyfriend.”

The girl next to you is loud when she says it, earning an elbow to the side from you. “Ohhhh. Tell us more?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve talked to him once, his dog got her paw stuck in my fence, there’s nothing weird about that. Although he is very, very attractive.”

“It’s weird, he always wears a skull mask.”

“Oh!” You sit up. “I know why. I saw him leaving the other morning wearing full military gear. That explains the accent and everything.” You laugh.

“Accent?”

“Oh.. I forgot to say that? He’s British.”

Their mouths drop, and you can’t help but blush at your spaced information.

“No way, Y/N. If you don’t have sex with that man right now..” she laughs. “Oh god, I am not ready for that. I just got out of a shitty relationship.” You laugh. “Well.. just out of curiosity.” She sips her from her cup. “Just how much thinking have you done about Wesley since you talked to your neighbor?” She teases. You roll your eyes which makes them all laugh. “See!”

“Christ. You guys are ridiculous. I have to go do yard work.” You roll your eyes.

“Look sexy!” She calls out as you exit the building, your cheeks are on fire.

When you arrive home, you look up at the sky, noticing the brewing storm. Maybe today was a bad day for yard work after all. Just as you make your way inside, the rain starts to come down. You sit down on your couch, deciding to watch a show instead.

You lose track of time. You could hear the rain pouring down outside. Thunder making you jump slightly.

A knock at your door has you whipping around. You stand up, slowly making your way up to your door. You open it slightly, noticing your neighbor. He’s soaking wet. “Uh.. hi. Sorry to bother you so late. I just.. have you seen Paisley?” He asks. “Uh.. no I haven’t. Is something wrong?” You ask, opening the door up wider. “I let her out earlier and she never came back in. I think she ran off.” He sighs. “I’ve been looking everywhere and I can’t find her.”

“Let me put some shoes on, I can help.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He sighs. “No, she’s a good girl, I wouldn’t want something bad happening to her.” You smile. Once you’ve slid on shoes and a jacket, you’re stepping out into the rain.

Ghost notices your tattered old skate shoes immediately. If you’ve got a boyfriend, why isn’t he taking care of you? Ghost knows he’s seen a guy around.

Behind your houses was a huge patch of trees, that’s where the both of you decide to look first. You’re calling out for her, walking along. You part ways when you get into the trees. Calling out for her. You don’t see anything and it’s getting darker as you walk along.

Ghost is somewhere further away by now, he’s calling for her, but she isn’t coming. He stops with a sigh. “Christ, where the fuck are you, fucking dog.” He growls.

“Simon!” He hears you yell. “Y/N?”

“I found her!” You call to him. He quickly makes his way over to you, seeing you’ve got a hand on her collar. “Ugh, damn dog.” He breathes. “Home now!” He says sternly, Paisley bolts for his house immediately. “Sorry. You didn’t have to come out here.” He laughs. “I don’t mind the rain.” You laugh, walking towards your houses with him. “Not real good shoes for bad weather.” He laughs. “Oh psh these? They’re fine.” You wave your hand. “What, your boyfriend doesn’t spoil you?” He laughs. “Oh god, I don’t have a boyfriend.” You laugh. “What? Who was that guy than?”

“Uh.. well. He WAS my boyfriend. But.. it’s a long story.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” He laughs awkwardly. “Oh it’s fine.”

“I’ve got a fire going in my house, if you wanted to dry your clothes out. You could talk about it if you want.” He shrugs. “Uhh. Sure.” You shrug. You follow him up to his back door, he opens the door up for you. You step inside and he shows you to his living room, where he had a pretty wood stove going. Lined with bricks. “Give me a moment.” His house was really nice. You wait before sitting down, not wanting to get his couch wet. “Here.” He passes you a towel and a shirt. “It’s an old shirt of mine.” He nods. “Thank you.” You smile. It’s Army Green.

He shows you to his bathroom and you change quickly, making your way back to his living room. You notice that he’s put your shoes on the tile in front of the fire to dry them out. You can’t help but smile.

He brings out tea and sets it down on his coffee table, sitting in the chair across from you. You pull his shirt down over your knees, making sure you’re covering yourself. Your panties had gotten wet and you had to take them off too. “Why did you guys break up if you don’t mind me asking?” He asks. “Uhh.” You laugh. “I found out that he was talking to a couple other girls. Meeting up with them and.. yeah.” You look down. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He breathes. You smile, looking up at him. He’s no longer wearing his mask.

“Honestly? I thought it would hurt more.” You shrug. “We.. I mean we’d been together for a long time but our relationship wasn’t serious. I didn’t really have any feelings towards the end, not after all of the things he said to me.” Ghost tilts his head. He’s curious.

“Uh..” you shift awkwardly. “I.. this is probably too much information but.. we never.. slept together. I just wasn’t into it, and he hated that I wasn’t. He said a lot of gross things to me.” You shrug. He nods his head. “How old are you?” He asks. “I’m 20.”

“How old was he?” He asks. “21.”

He smiles. “There’s your problem darling.” He laughs. “He’s just.. stupid and immature. I was at that age too. You’re too young to be worried about all of that anyways.”

You smile. “How old are you?” You ask. “32.” Your eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, m’ an old man.” He laughs. “You do not look 32.” You smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He winks.

“You need new shoes.” He nods to them. “Uhhh. Yeah. That has to wait.” You laugh. “Hm?”

“I can barely afford my house, those shoes will just have to do. They’ve done me good.” You smile. You move to stand in front of the fire, crouching to pet Paisley who’s laying in front of it. Ghost stands up too. “How about we check you out, make sure you didn’t get into something.” He breathes, rolling paisley over onto her back. He runs his hands along her fur. Feeling that she’s fine as he stands back up. He towers over you, and now you really feel how close you are to him. “I can help you get new ones.” He nods. “No.. that’s not your job.” You shake your head.

“Course not, you could work for it.” He smiles.

Your eyes widen. “Not- Jesus. Not like that.” He laughs. “Oh good.” You breathe out. “Had me worried for a second.” You laugh. “Got a dirty mind.” he rolls his eyes. “I mean.. if you babysit for me when I’m gone.” He nods. “I usually have her boarded at the base but.. they keep her cooped up a lot there.” He looks down at her. “Simon, I don’t mind watching Paisley. You don’t have to get me anything. She’s a good girl, I don’t mind.” You smile. He nods his head. “Thank you Y/N.” He smiles. “Of course.”

You’re warm from the fire, spinning around to warm your front. He does the same. Looking at the dancing flames through the glass. “Do you have a wife or anything?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. “My job isn’t good for relationships.” You nod your head. “Fair.” He laughs. “Why?” He asks. “I was just curious.” You say nervously. His smile is flirty, and you’re worried.

Not because he intimidates you.

You’re worried by how much you like it.

“You sure?” He looks at you, making you turn your head to look at him. “Mhm.” You smile. He takes a step toward you, making you step back.

Back hitting the wall with a gasp. “Might be overstepping here..” he laughs. “But he was stupid to fumble a girl like you.” He breathes. He’s toying with the shirt you’re wearing. You take in a shaky breath, looking up at him. “Simon.” You start. He tilts your chin to make you look him in the eyes, leaning into you. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. You part your lips, not saying a word. After a second, you nod your head.

He closes the gap right away, kissing you hard.

Your friends were going to freak when you told them.

You feel his fingertips gliding up your thigh and you gasp into his lips as he glides them over your bare opening. “Ah- Simon wait!” You breathe. Pushing him back slightly. “I.. I-“ you’re stuttering, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry, maybe I misunderstood..” he breathes. “No- no it’s not that. I.. I liked it. I just.. I’ve never done this before.” You breath, looking up at him. Your cheeks are burning, because his fingertips touching you is the first time a man has ever touched you like that. And this is only the second time you’ve ever interacted with him. “It’s alright.. I know you haven’t known me long.” He laughs. “No.. I don’t mean..” you clench your eyes closed. “I’ve never had sex before.” You sigh. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh.. well. I’m sorry I pushed you so hard, I had no idea.” He steps back.

“You didn’t. I.. I liked it.” You swallow hard.

He crosses his arms. “Have you ever been touched.. at all?” He asks. You shake your head. “Have you.. done anything at all? Like.. touched yourself?” You chew on your lip nervously. Shaking your head again. “I’ve tried but.. it’s.. weird.” You bring your hands behind your back. “It’s not weird, not if you’re doing it right.” He looks at you. The room is dark, the lights are dim and the fire illuminates it slightly.

“D-do you think you could show me? W-what it feels like I mean…” You look up at him.

“Yeah, of course. Cmere.” He tilts his head, reaching his hand out for you to take. He walks around his couch, pulling you with him. “Go ahead.” You sit down. “Lay back sweetheart.” He nods. You’re nervous as you lay back. “If you don’t like what I’m doing, if you want me to stop at all, you tell me okay?” He says. “Of course.” You nod.

He pushes the Army Green shirt up over your hips, you’re bare. Wearing nothing underneath.

He glides his hand up your thighs, feeling you shiver as he does. His fingertips gliding over your exposed flesh, rubbing over your opening. When he touches your clit, you flinch away from him. He forgets that you’re untouched.

Sensitive, easily stimulated. He chuckles. “Relax. You’re tense.” He breathes. He moves himself over you, pressing his thigh right up against your opening, hearing a gasp from your lips. He lowers himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours again. You kiss him sloppily, cheeks flushed, your tummy feels warm as he rocks his thigh into you. You whine into his lips, raising your hips to meet him.

He pulls away from you, kissing your chin and down your neck, pushing the shirt up and over your chest. Exposing every part of you to him. The first man to ever see such sensitive parts of you. He attaches his lips to your nipple, hearing you gasp. You lift your hips into him, wanting more. But he takes his time with you. You’ve never felt this way, never been so turned on before. He finishes showing your nipples attention and moves lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. You’re nervous as he moves himself between your legs. He looks up at you, leaving a kiss to your thigh. One kiss to your swollen clit and you were done.

You let your head fall back, he pushes his hands up his couch, entwining his fingers with yours as he spreads your folds with his tongue. It takes just a few minutes and you’re crying his name out in the perfect symphony. Your stomach is moving with the way you’re panting and you can barely hold still. He moves his hands away from yours, holding your hips down. Sucking and lapping at your clit, pushing his tongue into you slightly. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. You can feel something building. “S-Simon. Feels funny.” You whimper, lifting yourself up to rest on your elbows. Watching him eat your pussy like it’s the sweetest ice cream he’s ever had.

You feel his fingertips gliding over your entrance, and you gasp when he pushes one inside of you. Curling it right into your spongy spot. You can’t hold yourself together, especially not when he adds another finger, scissoring them. A cry leaves your lips, it’s a desperate moan. Something that tells him that you’re just about to cum. You can’t say anything which is what he wants, he’s cornering you right into pure bliss, leaving you nowhere to go. It feels like your body bursts into flames when he works your pussy to an orgasm. The first of many that he’s going to give you. Your eyes are full of tears and clench shut as he works you through your orgasm. Until you’re sensitive and squirming. He finally pulls away from you, moving himself above you again, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on him. You’re breathing hard when you pull away, looking up at him. Like he’s just killed an army in your honor.

“How do you feel?” He asks. Your lips are parted, you want to say something but you can’t. He chuckles at your trance-like state. “It’s alright. I know it’s a lot.” He smiles, pulling the shirt down to cover you. Pulling you up until you’re sitting up to look at him. “I feel good.” You finally say, cheeks burning. “Good, I hope so.”

Your eyes are lost in him and he says something but you don’t even hear it.

He waves in front of your eyes, chuckling when you flinch away. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts. “You alright, space cadet? I wasn’t too much was I?” He laughs. “No.. no.” You giggle, “sorry.” You blush. “First time is always intense. I get it.” He smiles. Leaning into you. “Can’t wait to see how spacey you’ll be when I fuck that pussy for the first time.”

You swallow hard, eyes clenching shut. You’re quiet.

A laugh is what makes you open your eyes. “I’m only kidding. Relax.” He stands up. “Unless you want me to of course.” He winks at you.

“I know you have work tomorrow, I’m keeping you up.” He laughs. “Let’s get these shoes on you and I’ll walk you home.” He smiles. He kneels down onto one knee, reaching out for one of your shoes. It’s dry and warm.

You’re surprised at first.

He’s actually putting shoes on you, like you’re some kind of princess.

He helps you up, throwing one of his jackets over you and holding your clothes. The storm has passed now, it’s only dark. When you reach your front porch, he passes you your clothes. “I can go change and give you your shirt back.” You stutter when you say. He’s making you nervous. “Don’t worry about it. Keep it. It looks better on you anyways.” He smiles. You blush, looking down. “Thank you, for helping me find Paisley.”

“Of course. I don’t mind at all.” You smile. “Um.. t-thank you for um..”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” He laughs. “Sorry..” you blush. “It’s alright. Get some sleep.” He smiles.

You smile. “Goodnight Simon.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” He nods. “Oh.. wait. Can I have your phone number? Since you’re willing to watch Paisley for me.” He playing his eagerness off. “Yeah of course.” You smile, walking toward your couch where you had left your phone. You pick it up and walk back to the door where he was waiting, passing it to him. He types his phone number into your phone and sends himself a text with it. “Awesome. Thank you Y/N. Goodnight now.” He smiles.

“Goodnight Simon.”

—

“You seem to be in a good mood LT.” Soap smiles.

“Something going on at home?” He smirks.

Ghost rolls his eyes. “Not now Soap.” He rolls his eyes.

“Who’s the girl, you’ve been checking your phone every 10 minutes.” He crosses his arms. Ghost sighs. “It’s my neighbor. I asked if she’d watch my dog. Stop being weird.” He shoves passed Soap. “Aw Cmon. I’m your friend.” Soap scoffs. “I tell you everything. I’ve never seen you act this way before.”

Ghost sighs. “Alright fine. Yeah, something happened between us and I don’t know what to think of it. But she’s kind’ve way out of my league.” He mumbles. “What do you mean by that?”

“She’s 20.”

Soaps eyes widen. “Jesus. A tad bit young don’t you think.” Ghost looks at him unimpressed. “She’s been my neighbor for a while, I thought she was older.” He shrugs. Soap laughs. “Nah, women just mature way before men do.” Ghost snorts. “Yeah. Well.. what I did with her last night I can’t really come back from.” He laughs. “Did you sleep with her?” Simon shakes his head. “No.. but. I don’t want to talk about it. Paisley got her paw stuck in her fence a few weeks back and I went out to check on her and she was helping her. Last night, Paisley didn’t come back when I let her out, so I stopped by and asked her if she’d seen her and she said no, but offered to help me look for her.” He shrugs. “So.. if you did stuff with her, why didn’t you have sex with her?” Ghost flinches. “She.. uh.” He laughs nervously. “She’s a Virgin.”

Soap’s eyes are wide. “Christ. You’ve got yourself into quite the situation Ghost.” He laughs. “Yeah. You’ll have to see her.” He mumbles. “Take me with you when you drop Paisley off for a mission sometime.” Soap crosses his arms. Simon laughs. “Alright. If you insist Johnny.”

“I’m good at reading people, I’ll tell you if she’s good for you.”

“She’s not good for me, I haven’t felt like this in forever.” Soap raises his eyebrows, a smug look on his face. “That means she’s good for you. You’re supposed to feel happiness.” He rolls his eyes. Ghost laughs. “It’s bad for a man like me. I’ve lost everyone, makes me vulnerable.” He mumbles. “So don’t lose this one.” Soap pats his shoulder.

Ghost shakes his head. “It’s never been in my control. But.. me being vulnerable, means that I can be very dangerous. So let’s hope this goes alright.”

—

“You WHAT?” She yells from the other end of the phone, you can hear her coughing violently on her coffee. “Uh.. yeah.”

“Did you have sex?” She asks. “What? No. He just.. he. We didn’t have sex.” You blush. “What’s gotten into you?” She squeals, making you laugh. “I don’t know. I guess I just really like him.” You bite your lip. “Damn. Who would’ve guessed. A 32 year old in the military is your type.” She laughs. “I know right. I don’t know. He’s.. ugh.” You sigh. “I’ve talked to him twice ever, and he’s already been so much fucking nicer to me than Wesley. I just.. don’t even know what to say.” You laugh. “That’s how you’re supposed to be treated Y/N.” She laughs. “Maybe he’ll be really good for you. Maybe you’ll get married and have a bunch of kids.” She snorts. You roll your eyes. “Whatever. I have to get back to work.” You mumble. “We’re not done talking about this. You’re telling me every detail later.” She mumbles through the phone, making you laugh. “We’ll see.” You say before hanging up.

You bite your lip.

You can’t stop thinking about the night before. What he said to you.

“Can’t wait to see how spacey you’ll be when I fuck that pussy for the first time.”

Your stomach turns and you feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of it. You needed to get your mind off of this. You stand up, heading outside to find something to do.

You’re sure you could find some yard work of some kind to do.

You look around your house, noticing the patch of grass by your driveway was mixing with gravel. You head back inside, changing into more comfortable clothes to do this task. Not paying any mind to whos eyes may be on you. Simon was meant to be at work anyways. You get a rake, raking the gravel back into it’s dedicated location. You needed to plant more grass seed, maybe line it with some spare bricks to keep the gravel away from it. It’d keep Paisley away from the fence to avoid getting her paw stuck. Simon really needed to fence his yard in to keep her inside. Although she was a pretty large dog, she’d probably just jump over it. You’re carrying bricks when Simon pulls up, Soap is in his passenger seat. “Is that her?” Soap asks. “Oh.. yeah. I guess so. I thought she was supposed to work today.” He mumbles. “Guess I’ll get to meet her sooner than later.” He smiles. You’ve got your ear buds in, not paying any attention. “We’re just checking on Paisley, get your head out of the gutter.” Ghost mumbles. As soon as Simon opens the door, Paisley bolts to your house. “Oh Jesus Christ, seriously!” He mumbles. Paisley attacking you with kisses, jumping on you catches you off guard.

“Oh my gosh!” You laugh. Turning your face to avoid her sloppy kisses. Simon and Soap approach, and you’re petting Paisley. “Hi darling, I’m glad to see you’re okay after your great escape.” You smile. When you glance up and see Simon walking toward you, another man behind him. “Thought you were supposed to be at work?” Simon asks.

“Ah, a bunch of offices flooded last night in the storm, mine included. So I’ve got a couple weeks off while they renovate.” You smile. “Ah, paid I hope?” He laughs. “Oh yeah. I would be out looking for another job otherwise.” You laugh. “That’s good though, a nice break.”

Ghost looks at Soap. “We just stopped by to check on Paisley. This is Soap by the way.” He nods. You look confused. “Did you say Soap?” You ask, looking at him. Soap laughs. “My name is Johnny, but you can call me Soap.” He nods, reaching his hand out. You take it, shaking his hand. Ghost feels jealousy boiling through him when he touches you. He doesn’t like that. “Civilians don’t get the nickname, Ghost.” Soap judges him. You tilt your head. “Ghost?” You smile, crossing your arms. “Nice. A weird duo but I like it.” You laugh. “I like the Mohawk too, don’t see that haircut much anymore.” You nod. “Thanks.” He smiles. “Oh no, don’t go giving the bloke a big head.” Simon rolls his eyes. “Whatever, I’m gonna go find Paisley. She’s nicer than you.” Soap rolls his eyes. “Nice meeting you, lass.” He smiles. “Nice meeting you too.” You wave.

Simon lingers behind. “Why’re you not relaxing?” He laughs. You blush, looking down. “Can’t sit down for too long or I’ll think about what you said last night.” You laugh. “Ah. That makes sense.” He laughs. “I can give you something else to think about if you want.” He chuckles. “Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes.

“I think Soap is getting impatient, Ghost.” You call him by his nickname and he freezes up. He laughs. “Don’t call me that. Not unless you’re moaning it.” He turns to walk away from you, hearing you laugh. Mumbling a ‘Jesus’ under your breath.

—

As he works, training new recruits, helping out anywhere he can, preparing for missions. He thinks about you.

The jealousy he felt earlier with Soap, it worries him. He’s getting too close to you. He knows it. The last time he did this, he got hurt. Irreversible damage to him that he still suffers from. He needs to stay away from you, but he fears it’s too late.

You’re so kind. Naive in a good way almost.

You’re so nice, so sweet. Even Paisley likes you.

He can’t focus on work without thinking about you. Zoning out as he loads everything up. The way that you sounded with his face buried between your thighs, he thinks about how you’ll sound when he-

He groans out in frustration, earning a couple glances. He throws down the wrench he’s holding, cursing under his breath.

Soap and Captain Price exchange a worried glance as he storms off.

Soap can’t help but laugh when he’s gone, the door shut and latched behind him. “Something going on with him?” Captain Price asks. “Yeah, a girl.” He snickers. “Ah. Trouble in paradise?”

“No.” He laughs. “She’s his neighbor and they aren’t.. anything just yet. But I guess he had an encounter with her.” Captain Price nods. “Women. They’ll do that to ya.” He laughs, picking up the box of ammo and walking to the back of the Humvee. “Tell me about it.” Johnny smiles, digging through the box of tools.

Captain Price sets down the box of ammo in the back of the vehicle, swiping his hands off together to get the dust off of them. “Suppose I’ll go talk to ‘im.” Captain Price mutters as he makes his way into the office that Simon had gone into. He opens the door, seeing him sitting at the desk. He’s got a water bottle in front of him and it’s already almost gone. “You alright Simon?” Price sits down in the chair across from him. Hearing Simon sigh. “M’fine Price.” He mumbles. “Johnny told me a bit about your troubles.” He smiles. Ghost rolls his eyes at this. “It’s alright, maybe we can talk about it. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.” He shrugs. “What, is this a therapy session?” He jokes. Earning a snort from his Captain. “I’m serious, I’m a wise old man with a lot of advice.” He smiles, setting his hands in his lap. The dad energy that Price gives off warms Simon’s heart in a way. “I don’t know. She’s my neighbor and she’s a lot younger than me.” He sighs. “I just think I’m going to end up getting myself into something dumb with her.”

“Well.. what’s she like?”

“I.. I mean she’s nice. She lives on her own. She.. said that she just got out of a relationship.” He sighs. “Oh? Did she say why?”

“He cheated on her because she wasn’t ready to… take the next step with him.” Ghost shrugs. “Hm.. do you know anything about her background? How responsible she is?”

Ghost shakes his head. “Not really. I’ve only talked to her twice but the second time.. we were alone and things escalated.” He mumbles. “So.. you had sex?”

“No.” Ghost laughs. “She’s.. a Virgin.”

Captain Price’s eyes widen, and he shifts uncomfortably. “How old did you say she was?” He asks.

“20.”

Captain Price nods his head. “Hm.. well. What does she do in her spare time? Do you know?”

“She.. mostly just works so that she can pay her bills and hangs out with her friends.” He shrugs. “Do you know where she works?” Simon nods. “A bookkeeper for a construction company. She’s worked there since she was eighteen.” He nods.

“So.. she’s got a stable job.. can take care of herself.. she seems really mature.” Price shrugs. “I know it seems weird that she’s so young, but women mature a lot faster than men.” Captain Price nods. “You’re both consenting adults, who are responsible and can take care of yourselves.. I know you’re afraid of being hurt.” Captain Price sits up. “But you’ll never find your forever if you don’t put yourself out there and be vulnerable for others.” He smiles. Simon nods his head. “I know.”

“You’ll have to bring her around, let me judge her myself.” He smiles. Earning a snort from Simon. “Yeah, Johnny said the same thing.”

Price stands up, patting Simon on the shoulder as he goes to exit. “You’ll never know until you try, Simon. Don’t give up just yet.” He nods.

Simon sighs when the door closes behind him. What the hell was he getting himself into.

Later that day, Simon had come home. He didn’t see you and decided to leave everything be for now. Deciding to watch a show and drink a beer. Give himself time to relax, as bad as he wants to spend this time with you. He sighs, hearing Paisley scratching at the door, whining. She’s pacing back and fourth. “It’s probably just a Racoon. Down girl.” He breathes. But she doesn’t calm down. “Paisley, please. Give it a rest darling. I’ve just let you out.” He groans.

Nothing seems to calm her. He stands up, setting his beer down. He makes his way over to the kitchen to discard his empty beer bottles, setting them by his sink. He glances up through his kitchen window for a second, when something catches his attention.

You’re talking to a guy.

Not just any guy either, your ex-boyfriend. Ghost feels himself stiffen up, eyes narrowing as he looks outside the window. It seems as if you’re having a normal conversation with him. Ghost quickly moves to the back door, cracking it open and holding Paisley back as she tries to force her way outside. “Stop, sit.” He growls.

“Look.. I’m sorry okay? I miss you.” He hears him say it. Ghost can feel himself tensing up. "You need to leave. I won't ask you again." You breathe. "And if I don't?" He sighs. "What are you going to do hm? Nobody will come for you. You're just a stupid girl Y/N." He can hear him. He can hear you laugh. "Go." He hears you growl. "I'll tell the neighbor if you don't go." Simon's smile is too wide upon hearing that. "The neighbor? What, are you friends now?" He hears him scoff. "Come on, let's just talk baby, I can take your mind off things for a while."

"Simon!" You yell, Simon stands up immediately, ripping his door open and stepping outside. He can see that he's got a strong grip on your upper arm. When he sees Simon step down the few concrete stairs, he lets go. "Seriously?" He can hear him scoff. "She doesn't need you, go back inside and mind your own fucking business." He growls. Simon makes his way across his lawn, crossing the gravel of your driveway. "She is my business. She is now." He crosses his arms. "And if you want to leave here in one piece, I suggest you get back in your car and drive as far away as you can." He says it casually. "Yeah? Or else what?" He asks, making Simon raise his shirt up over his hip, not only does he expose his insanely fit body and v-line, but there's a pearl gripped pistol sitting in his waistband. A whistle leaves his lips and Paisley bursts out of his house, bolting to stand next to him at attention, staring your ex-boyfriend down. "Go." Simon nods.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "What, you fucking him?" He looks at you, teeth gritted behind his pursed lips, you glance at Simon before looking back to the ground, swallowing hard. "Some virgin huh?" He shakes his head. "This is fucking stupid, don't even know why I bothered with you." He growls. He walks down the concrete path by your door, walking around and climbing into his car, speeding off. "Go home." Simon mumbles to Paisley. "Hey. You okay?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yeah.." You shake your head. "I'm fine. Just.. yeah." You breathe. "Cmon, I'll make you some tea." He tilts his head for you to follow him. You nod your head, following after him. He leads you into his back door, closing it behind you. You notice Paisley laying in her bed in the living room. "I didn't think you'd be able to hear me." You breathe. "Was worried for a second." You laugh nervously. "Paisley was stressed out, kept harassing me. I happened to notice.” He mumbles. “You were listening?” You ask. “Just.. making sure nothing happened. Suppose it’s a good thing I was though.” He reaches up into his cupboard, shirt rising until you could see the Pistol grip.

You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life.

“Simon?” You say, stepping closer to him. “Yeah?” He asks, turning to face you. Once he’s close enough, you lean in, kissing him hard, cupping his cheeks so that he can’t pull away. “W-woah.” He breathes. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Just kiss me.” You pant. He sets everything he has in his hand down, returning his lips to yours and moving you so that he could pin you up against the countertop, feeling you moan into his mouth. He reaches down, grasping the back of your thighs and lifting you up until you’re on the countertop. You rest your hands on the countertop, pushing your hips forward. Like you wanted him.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks. You pull away, looking at him, reaching forward and raising his shirt up. Getting a good look at his gun. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.” You look up at him, taking a deep breath. “What? Told some scumbag off?” He laughs. “Defended me.” You breathe. “Seriously? Not ever?” He asks. You shake your head. “Please keep kissing me, Simon.” You whine. He leans into you, kissing you again. Stiffening up when he feels your hand on him through his jeans. He groans into his lips when you palm him hard through them. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” He breathes. “Yes.” You whine. You sit up, reaching with both of your hands to unbuckle his belt.

He reaches down, hand gripping onto the cool metal of the pistol, setting it down on the countertop. Leaning in to kiss your neck as you pulled his belt apart and started on his jeans. You can’t help but glance at the gun as it sits there. You’re starting to realize just what kind of man Simon is.

A strong military man. A guarded one at that. He’s nice but gruff, quiet and observing. And something you’ve noticed since meeting him, since Paisley got stuck in your fence.

He’s protective of what’s his.

“Simon.” You pant. “What baby?” He breathes.

“I want you.” You breathe. “But.. you.. you’re..” he looks down between the both of you.

“Please, I want you to take my virginity.” You whine. Pushing your hips out. He takes in a deep breath. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. He pushes his pants down his thighs just enough to reveal himself to you, hearing you sigh when you see the size of him. “S’alright. Will only hurt a minute.” He moves closer to you. He tugs your pants down, discarding them to the side somewhere. Seeing all of you once again. He spits in his hand, focusing it on the tip of his cock. “Are you sure? Once I take it, it’s gone.” He breathes. “I trust you. I want you to take it.” You pant. He pushes your legs open, getting a good look at you. “Just relax for me.” Your heart is racing and he can hear it thumping in your chest from where he stands.

“If you let me do this..” he trails off, circling your opening with his fingers again, going to take his time stretching you out before he takes what’s rightfully his. “You’re mine.” He leans into you. Lips ghosting over your throat, right where your jugular vein sits beneath the surface. “Simon.” You breathe out.

“I think I was always yours.” You look him in the eyes, watching him stiffen at your sentence. Eyes darkening as he stares at you. “Fuck.” He growls, gritting his teeth. He presses the tip of his cock up against your entrance, tip pressing between your sopping wet folds. He forces you to look at him, taking his time thrusting every inch into you. He holds your throat, not cutting off your oxygen but just enough to hold you still. When your eyes flick down to watch him sink into you, he growls. “Look at me.” He growls. “Keep looking at me.”

“Simon.. it hurts.”

“I know baby.” He breathes. “S’alright, just for a minute. One minute.” He pants. You’re so tight on him, he can barely contain himself. He finally closes his eyes, sighing out as he bottoms out inside of you, hearing you cry out. He leans into you, holding you steady as he slides out, rocking his hips into you. “It’s alright. I know it hurts.” He takes in a sharp breath, hating that you hurt so bad, but he felt so fucking good. He keeps a slow, steady pace. Letting you adjust to him. He notices a little bit of blood, but it doesn’t bother him any.

“Simon..” you’re breathless when you say it. “Hm?”

“Fuck me.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it, please.” You hiss, pushing your hips into him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight as he rocks his hips into yours faster, a little harder than before. Pushing your legs up as he slides deeper into you, hearing a gasp leave your lips. “Oh my god-“ you breathe.

He keeps up this pace for a few minutes, letting you get used to him. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

“How does it feel huh?” He pants, voice unsteady and desperate.

“‘M fucking your pussy.” He hisses, feeling you tighten around him. “Took your virginity.” He breathes. “How’s it feel?” He smiles. “It- it feels so good.” You whine. ”I feel so full Simon.” You hiccup with watery eyes. “Yeah? That’s how you’re supposed to feel. Supposed to feel overwhelmed and good.” He chuckles. He rests his hands on the undersides of your thighs, gripping you and keeping your legs open for him. Smiling when he sees you gripping the countertop like your life depends on it. He lifts his shirt up more, showing off more of his toned stomach.

“Fuck!” You cry, letting your head tilt back. He’s picking up his pace, getting you so close. You can feel swirling in your stomach, feeling something building.

A pant leaves your lips and you move up, trying to adjust yourself. “Simon. Feels weird.” You gasp. He lowers his hand to rub at your sensitive clit.

Just a little bit of that and you’re crying out for him. Clenching hard around him, your pussy milking him for every bit of his spunk.

He’s panting hard, moans unsteady as he approaches his orgasm. He’s going to cum hard.

He slides out of you last second, pumping his cock until he finishes on your stomach, groaning out, his body jerking as he finishes. “Oh fuck..” he whines.

After a moment of coming down from your highs, it finally hits you. You’d really just given this man, who’s way older than you, way more experienced than you, who you aren’t even in a relationship with. Your virginity. You’re staring at him with wide eyes as he cleans your skin of his filth, making sure you’re completely clean, even wiping down between your legs. He wants you to be comfortable. He sighs when he sees your nervous appearance. “It’s alright. I know.” He breathes. “Cmon, let’s go warm up by the fire.” He breathes. Lifting you up and bringing you with him to the couch. He sets you down, throwing a blanket over you.

You’re silent for a while. Not nervous or upset, more content than anything.

Simon is so caring of you, and he barely knows you. Which tells you everything you need to know about him. That he’s going to be the best thing for you. That he’ll take care of you. He finally sits down next to you after starting the fire. Throwing an arm around you so that you could lean into his chest. “I’m sorry if I took advantage of you.” He breathes. Hearing you laugh. “You didn’t. I’m a grown woman, I know what I want.” You smile. “Well.. good.” He smiles. “I just hope you don’t want it to be a one time thing.” You mumble.

“I was wondering the exact same thing.” He breathes.

“I know you just got out of a relationship and all but.. you’re mine.”

You smile up at him. “Always.”

“Oh yes, one more thing.” He mumbles, standing up and disappearing up his stairs for a minute, returning back down holding a box.

“Here.” He smiles. You take it from him, confused. “Simon.. I told you not to get me these.” You look up at him. “Open them.”

You open the box up, noticing a brand new pair of shoes. You can’t even imagine how much they probably costed. “Simon this is way too much.” You laugh. “You need new ones, I can help out. Let’s see how they fit.” He kneels down again.

“You’re doing too much for me already.”

He scoffs. “What I’m doing is the bare minimum. You’re just used to below average darling.” He laughs, tying the laces. You can’t help but smile at this.

“Thank you Simon.” You breathe.

“Always.”

[stillmonsterz]

rosebud

pairing: jay x reader, sunghoon x reader genre: smut with plot summary: ever since your mother passed away, your stepfather has been there for you. but when your old crush finally makes a move on you, you find that you want to pursue something different. one night won't change a thing, right? contains: unprotected sex, dubcon, mentions of death, infidelity (?), "humor", piv, blowjobs word count: 8.6k (unproofread) taglist: @belowbun @moon7jay @ui11iane @bambangan A/N: I didn't intend to write this, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!

You tasted the dish you had made once more before setting the spoon down and closing the lid on the pot. Perfect. Jay would love it. You both worked full-time jobs, but he did so much around the house that you liked to have dinner waiting for him. You were a better cook than him, anyways.

You washed your hands and decided to head to the couch while you waited for him to come home. It was your ritual: when your mom was alive, you, Jay, and her would all sit down and talk about your day before going your separate ways. Your mom had liked to eat dinner alone, so your time to congregate was just when everyone got home. 

Your mother had passed away a few years ago, shortly after her and Jay, your stepfather, had gotten married. It was a car crash, a stupid drunk driver. Just the thought of that night made you curl into yourself. Jay had taken care of you after that. Even though you had been an adult for a while, able to support yourself with your job, he had never even mentioned you moving out. He had moved you and your mother to his lovely house in the suburbs, got you whatever you wanted for your room. To repay his kindness, you liked to do little things for him: cook, do the laundry, mop the floors. It was the least you could do.

The breakers in the doorknob clicked, and Jay walked into the foyer. You tried to rid your mind of the hard times, of the grief. When he saw you, his face brightened. “I smell something good,” he said, taking his shoes off and loosening his tie. He had a high-status, forward-facing job, so Jay wore suits everyday to work. You ironed them for him on the weekend, taking care to put them in protective plastic bags. 

“I made cream pasta,” you said, relaxing onto the couch. “Your favourite.”

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart,” Jay said. “I need it. Was so busy I didn’t get lunch today.” He walked into the living room and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Just gonna go wash up, then we can chat, okay?”

“Okay,” you said happily, washing him dip into the downstairs guest bathroom. 

When he came back out, he had loosened his tie so that it hung slackly around his neck. Jay walked over to the couch, tilted your head up, and gave you a long, gentle kiss. He broke the kiss to lower himself onto the couch, settling next to you.

Jay held your hand in his, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “How was your day?”

You shrugged. “Nothing to report. This guy kept asking for the book ‘Against bad and Good’ by Fyodor Dostoevksy, and eventually I figured out that he meant beyond Good and Evil by Nietzsche.”

Jay laughed. “Was he drunk?”

“Just stupid, I think. How was your day?”

Jay squeezed your hand. “Good, good. I got a lot of work done in preparation for the trip. Had to coordinate with marketing for the proposal, which is always difficult, because marketing is staffed by-,”

“Neanderthals?”

He kissed your cheek. “I’ve taught you well.” You laughed, which earned you an affectionate smile from him. 

“I remember when I heard you laugh for the first time after your mom passed,” Jay said, his other hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “It made me so relieved.”

“It did?”

“Mhm,” he said. “That’s how I knew you would be okay.”

You smiled at him, then, and he leaned in to give you another gentle kiss on the lips. He pulled away slowly, almost teasingly.  You held his cheeks with both hands and brought him back towards you, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. Jay softly groaned into your mouth and wrapped his arms around your lower back, drawing you into him. 

One of his hands strayed towards your chest, and he groped one of your clothed breasts.So it was one of those days. Jay tugged on your lip as he pulled away from the kiss, one hand still lingering on your chest.

“We might have to postpone dinner,” he said, running the side of his finger along your cheek. 

“Why? You’re not hungry?”

“I am,” Jay said, “but for something else.” With that, he leaned in and kissed a sensitive spot under your ear, eliciting a gasp from you. 

“Bedroom?” you asked. 

Jay nodded and lifted you up, holding you bridal-style. As he carried you upstairs, you began unbuttoning his white collared shirt, kissing at the new expanse of skin awarded to you. “I need all the time I can get with you before my trip.”

“Where is it again? Singapore?” you asked before pressing wet kisses on his upper chest. 

“Yeah,” Jay said. “Fuck, I’ll really miss you.”

“It’s only five days.”

“And I’ll miss you every single hour,” he said. He pushed the door to his bedroom open and brought you inside. All of your mom’s stuff had been moved to storage, leaving it an entirely Jay space: white walls, creamy bed-sheets, vintage record-player sitting on a side-table, lounge chair. It was still late afternoon, so golden sunlight shone past the cracks in the blinds and cast a shimmering glow throughout the space.

“I’ll miss you, too,” you said softly. Jay kissed your cheek before resting you on the king-sized bed. You pulled your clothes off quickly, not wanting to waste a second. Jay had the same idea, tossing his suit jacket and pants onto the lounge chair. 

“Iron those for me later, will you?” He strided over to his nightstand to get a condom. While he did so, you began prepping yourself, sliding two fingers in and out of your warm pussy while you rubbed your clit. 

“I will, Jay,” you said. When you saw him approach you, you stopped playing with yourself and leaned down on your elbows. Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Jay crawled on top of you and kissed you deeply. His hands ran along the sides of your bare skin, feeling their contours. You had done this with him so many times, but he always managed to make it feel as though he were exploring uncharted territories every time he kissed you. “Do you mind if we do missionary?”

“I’d like that,” you breathed out. You traced your hands along his arms, feeling the taut, tense muscle.

“Good,” Jay said. “I want to see your face.” He gave his cock a few tugs before he slid inside of you with a groan. The stretch was delicious, as usual, and your toes curled as he pushed himself in. Jay gave you both some time to adjust, his eyes closed tightly shut. He owned them and began to move, your creamy pussy welcoming his hard length.

Your hands grasped the back of his neck, stroking the soft hair. “I’ll really miss you,” you said, gasping in between words. Jay’s pace was slow and purposeful, his cock teasing the gummy wall of your G-spot. The bed creaked every time he thrusted into you.

“I’ll miss you more,” he said, driving his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy. “You have no clue just how badly I want you there with me.” Jay’s face was contorted in pleasure, and he dipped down low to suck on your neck. 

“No marks,” you whined, trying to push his face away. “I’m seeing Sungyeon in a few days…”

“Just tell her it was your boyfriend,” Jay mumbled against your neck, nibbling the tender skin. He was always like this just before he went away, clingy and needy. “Or a hookup. I don’t care.”

“Oh,” you sighed. How could you argue with him when his cock felt so good? He canted his hips into yours at an even pace. He never rushed a thing. Even the way he gave you hickeys was careful and slow. 

Jay pulled out of you, and you protested at the sudden emptiness. “Want to taste you before I go,” he said, pressing kisses from your neck to your breasts to your belly-button. Then he lavished attention on your inner thighs, sucking red marks onto them. His lips smacked against your soft skin, and he caressed your legs gently with his large hands. Sometimes Jay would put on his old rnb playlist when you two made love, but you liked this, too, when you could hear everything.

After he had kissed every square inch of your thighs, Jay gently parted your vulva lips. He pecked your clit, too, which made you giggle. The laughs choked in your throat as he began to lave his tongue over your sensitive pearl, ever so softly. He alternated between flicking his tongue and making a swirling motion. Jay’s hands clutched your waist, holding you in place. Your hands threaded into his dark, well-kept hair, and you let out a moan.

Jay brought you to the brink before he pulled away, swallowing in air. “You taste so sweet,” he said. “So sweet.”

“All yours,” you said.

Jay lifted his head back up so that he was face to face with you. “Come taste how sweet you are, baby.” You kissed him, and he stuck his tongue into your mouth so you could better taste your arousal. Your tongues played hide and seek with each other- when Jay would retract his, you would suck it back into your mouth, and vice versa. 

You felt his cock bump the tip of your entrance, and he plunged himself into you once more. You wrapped your legs around him, driving him deeper inside of you. You loved it when his chest pressed against your, when every single part of you felt connected. Jay rocked his hips against yours slowly, lovingly, and you basked in the glow.

After a while, Jay rolled off of you. He planted a kiss on your forehead and held you close, wrapping both arms around you. “Did you want me to finish you off?” Jay shook his head and kissed your neck as he nuzzled into you from behind.

“Wasn’t the point,” he murmured. “Did you want to finish?”

“Wasn’t the point for me either,” you said softly. 

You fell asleep like that, tightly ensconced in Jay’s embrace.

–

You hadn’t exactly meant to start fucking your stepdad. It had started even before your mother had passed. Jay would come inside your room to talk, and you welcomed his company. He was funny, witty, and a good listener. Before you went to work in the mornings, if your mother wasn’t around, he would give you kisses on the cheek as a goodbye. Then the kisses turned into pecks on the lips, which turned into long, slow kisses that left your head spinning. 

The first time he fucked you was when your showerhead had started to act strange. You had wrapped a towel around yourself and called his name. As he pushed past you to examine the problem, your towel had come loose, exposing everything to him. Jay had taken you on the counter mere minutes later, leaving the shower running and shoving a pair of panties in your mouth to muffle the sound. 

For some reason, you had thought that your mother’s death would have killed any chemistry between the two of you. On the contrary; Jay had taken you into the funeral home’s bathroom and fucked you in there. You figured it was a coping mechanism, or something.

In hindsight, nothing about your dynamic had really changed after your mother’s passing. You still talked regularly, you still had frequent sex (frequent enough that Jay begged you to go on birth control), and you still loved to cook for him. 

–

You woke up a few hours later. Jay was already staring at you, a soft smile on his face. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said jokingly.

“What time is it really?”

Jay glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “6:38.” 

“Ah, I’ll have to rewarm the pasta…” 

“It’s no rush,” Jay said, stroking your shoulder. “Not that hungry anymore.”

You smiled and kissed his nose playfully. “You’re full?”

“For now,” Jay said. “I might need more later.”

“Don’t you dare leave any more marks,” you said. “Sungyeon won’t leave me alone if you do.”

“Are you sure you’re worried about Sungyeon, or her scrawny brother?” 

You snorted. “Sunghoon? I’m not worried about him.”

“You told me you had a little crush on him,” Jay replied.

“It’s just a crush. It’s nothing. He probably wouldn’t even know what to do with a woman.” It was a partial lie. You had seen women who definitely weren’t Sungyeon’s friends slip into the Park household. Many of them were repeat visitors, so you figured that Sunghoon probably was good. But what Jay didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

“Probably not,” Jay said with a sniff. “Kids like that only want one thing, and they’re not good at it.”

“Not like you,” you said.

Jay grinned and kissed your lips. “Exactly. I take care of you, don’t I?”

“So well, Jay.” You started to draw little patterns on his chest. “So, so well.”

Jay rolled you on top of him, hands traveling down to our lower back. “You need me to take care of you again?”

“Please.”

You didn’t get to eat dinner until 10 o’clock.

–

You had Saturday off, but Jay still had work to finish up at the office before he left for his business trip on Monday. You agreed to go grocery shopping together after work so you could have Sunday all to yourselves. Sungyeon was also free, so you decided to go around to her place. She lived a few houses away from your place; you had met her while you were on a jog. Neither of you were the most sociable people, so it was great to have a friend who was so calm and who lived so close. 

It helped that she had a cute older brother. He was only a few years older, and he had recently moved back home due to the poor economy. Their parents made good money, but he had wanted to be independent from his parents when he turned 18. You knew all this because Sungyeon told you, not because Sunghoon had ever spoken with you about anything even remotely personal. He treated you like a houseguest. You didn’t mind because you had Jay, but in the brief moments when you considered getting into a more traditional relationship, Sunghoon was always the first person to come to mind.

You walked over to Sungyeon’s house, a two-storied building not at all dissimilar to your own. You clambered up the steps and rang the doorbell. 

“Door’s open,” she called, so you let yourself in and locked the door behind you. “I’m in the kitchen!” 

You had come over to spend the morning and afternoon watching Marvel movies, and Sungyeon had promised to make snacks. Indeed, when you walked into the kitchen, you smelled something sweet yet burnt. Sungyeon was dropping a pan of partially burnt Rice Krispie squares onto the stovetop. 

“How’d you fuck up Rice Krispies?” you asked, grabbing a knife from their drawer. 

“Shut up,” Sungyeon whined. “I was trying to be domestic. For you. Because I care.”

“Should have cared about setting an oven timer,” you retorted, cutting a chunk out of the Rice Krispies. 

Sungyeon frowned. “Don’t eat that. It’s still hot.”

“Won’t even bother me,” you said. You used the knife to place the gooey treat onto a paper towel and raised it to your lips. One bite and your mouth was on fire. “Ow!”

“Dumbass,” Sungyeon grumbled. You fanned your mouth frantically and she meandered while she got you a glass of water, relishing in your despair. 

As you tearfully gulped down the water, Sunghoon walked into the kitchen. He was wearing a baggy gray T-shirt over black sweatpants, and he looked exhausted. He was a serial gamer, so chances were he stayed up playing League or Overwatch with his friends Heeseung or Jake. He looked at you, then Sungyeon. “What’s that smell?”

“I made Rice Krispie squares,” Sungyeon muttered. “But they’re bu-,”

Sunghoon was already cutting a piece out of the pan and shoving it into his mouth. He coughed. “Fuck, it’s hot.” He kept eating it despite the apparent pain, wandering back upstairs.

“Two freaks,” Sungyeon said, rubbing your back. 

Once you caught your breath, you said, “Maybe we should also get some cereal.”

Sungyeon breathed out a defeated sigh. “Probably the best idea.” You got the bowls and spoons, and she got the cereal and milk. Once you had prepared your bowls, you set out to the living room. Sungyeon accidentally knocked into you, spilling milk over your front. 

“What’s up with you today?” you said with a smile, putting your cereal down.

“Mercury retrograde,” she said. “You can go put your hoodie in the wash. I’ll bring it to you on Monday. Get something out of my closet if you want.”

“Gracias,” you said, heading up the stairs. Their laundry room was located conveniently on the second floor, so all you had to do was take a hoodie from Sungyeon’s room and change in the laundry room. When you took off your tank top, you examined it carefully to make sure that you didn’t get any milk on that as well. The last thing you needed was to smell warm milk as you watched your movie. As you looked down at your chest, you noticed that Sunghoon had left his hamper of dirty clothes here. You knew it was his because you had seen him wear every shirt in the pile at least fifty times since you had known him. 

“Wow,” you heard a voice say. You turned and saw Sunghoon, standing behind you with his arms crossed. “You hide them well.” His eyes, you realized, were trained directly on your chest, and a faint smile graced his lips. 

“I don’t hide them at all,” you said. “You just haven’t been looking.” No way were you going to pass up an opportunity to flirt with Sunghoon. Given your status as his sister’s friend and his casual sex habit, you doubted anything would come of it anyways. You were certain that Jay probably had wandering eyes, too.

“Maybe you’re right,” Sunghoon said. He stepped a little closer and tapped your neck. “Who gave you this?”

You tilted your head. “Why do you care?” 

Sunghoon rested his hand on your shoulder, his thumb pulling at the strap of your tank top. “I need to know who my competition is.” 

“Didn’t realize there was a competition.”

Sunghoon lifted his hand away, shoving it into his sweatpants pocket. “Then you haven’t been looking.”

You shrugged your hoodie on over your tank top. “I was looking for years, actually. You missed your opportunity.”

Sunghoon scrunched his nose, and you didn’t think he knew how cute he looked. “You didn’t act like you were interested.”

Leaning against the washing machine, you looked him up and down. “Then you don’t know shit about women.”

He leaned in, his smirk growing. “I know a lot about women. You gonna let me show you, or are you gonna dub me?” 

You paused, weighing your options. Finally, you walked past him, turning around at the last minute to say, “I’m going to go watch Marvel movies with your sister.”

“Can I join you?”

“Nice try.”

Sunghoon shrugged and started walking to his room. “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t try.” 

You shook your head and went down to remake your bowl of cereal. So now you knew that Sunghoon really was interested in you, after years of ignoring you. You wouldn’t let it phase you, though. You had Jay. Sungyeon didn’t even know that you weren’t a virgin, let alone that you were fucking your ex-stepdad. You didn’t know if you could ever tell anyone about your arrangement. 

–

When Jay picked you up from Sungyeon’s place, you didn’t dare mention what happened with Sunghoon to you. Normally, you mentioned anything that happened with a man, and Jay would lament about the many women at the office who wanted him. But you couldn’t talk about Sunghoon, not when he had made your heart race like that. 

“I was thinking,” Jay began, driving with one hand, the other resting on your thigh, “we could go to this new store. They have these novelty fruits, like blue carrots. Does that sound good to you?”

“Sounds great, Jay,” you said, a little absent-mindedly. 

Jay caught the hint of distance in your tone. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sighed, hating how it felt to lie to Jay. “It’s silly but…I really will miss you when you go away. This time it’s different, you know?” 

Jay squeezed your thigh. “I know what you mean. I’ll be back before you know it, hm? I’ll bring you back some souvenirs, too.” 

You leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, which made him briefly smile at you before returning his attention to the road. “Okay, Jay.”

“Hey,” Jay said. “I have an idea. Let’s go to a restaurant. Right now. Let me take you someplace.”

Looking down at your outfit - shorts and Sungyeon’s hoodie - you frowned. “I can’t go out like this.”

“Please. You look beautiful no matter what you wear,” he said, squeezing your thigh again. “We don’t have to go anywhere fancy, just a place with good food. Someplace we haven’t tried.”

That was how you ended up at a sweet, 50’s inspired diner. You and Jay sat on opposite sides of the booth and pored over the menu together. When the waiter came over, he jabbed his pen at you and Jay. “So, what can I get you and your…”

“Stepdaughter,” Jay said with a terse smile. When you two went out, it was almost inevitable that someone would ask about your relationship. You had developed an unofficial way of answering the question: when you wanted to return to a place, you would say that Jay was your stepdad. When you wanted to try a place out just once, he would call you his girlfriend. It always made your heart flutter when he addressed you as his girlfriend, even though it seemed far too juvenile a term for your relationship.

The waiter smiled and took your orders. As you ate, you couldn’t help the thoughts of Sunghoon from returning. Sunghoon slouching around in his rumpled, baggy clothes, so different from the suits and starched button-ups Jay liked to wear. So boyish and immature in contrast to Jay’s maturity and poise. So bold. 

Your food came, and you picked at it. You hated that you were even considering it, what life could be like if you were dating someone your own age, someone who wasn’t so hopelessly entangled in your past. Someone your mom hadn’t fucked.

Jay called your name softly. “Come sit next to me,” he said, scooting over and dragging his food over to the side. You pushed your plate over and trudged to his side of the table. Jay wrapped his arm around you and wiped a crumb from your cheek. 

“Are you sure it’s just the trip?” he asked quietly. 

You hesitated, then decided to tell a half-truth. “I wish we could be normal sometimes,” you admitted. 

Jay took in a sharp intake of breath, looking down at his lap. Then he gave you a small smile. “Me too,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I wish I was 15 years younger, or you were 15 years older. But what we have is something special, something really magical. I wouldn’t give that up for anything, would you?”

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t.” Not even Sunghoon. 

Jay ran his thumb on your lips. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am. Being with an old man like me can’t be easy…”

“You’re not old at all,” you protested. “Not to me, not at all.”

Jay laughed quietly and leaned in to give you a gentle kiss. His mouth tasted like the milkshake he had been drinking, and you ran your tongue along his lips to lap up all of the flavour. His fingers gently caressed your neck in a soothing motion as you continued to kiss. It felt so right, so sweet.

Someone cleared their throat. “Excuse me,” the waiter said timidly. “Just wanted to know if you guys were doing all right over here?” HIs eyes were confused, darting between you and Jay rapidly.

Jay pulled away from you and nodded. “Yeah, great, thanks.” The waiter sped away, nearly tripping over his shoes. Jay frowned. “What’s up with him?”

“You told him you were my stepdad this time,” you said.

Jay smacked his forehead. “Damn, that’s right. Shame. The food here is really good.”

In spite of yourself, you laughed.

–

On Monday morning, you watched as Jay drove away. You had given him the best send-off you could think of: marathon sex from Saturday night to Sunday night, and a final, romantic round on the kitchen counter before he left. You sighed and headed indoors to get changed for work. 

Just as you were putting your pants on, you heard a knock on the door. You zipped up your pants and buttoned up your shirt as you walked to the door. You glanced at the monitor, and you saw Sunghoon shuffling outside the door, holding something. 

You opened the door and Sunghoon waved. “I have your hoodie,” Sunghoon said. “Sungyeon’s busy tonight, but she wanted to get it to you as soon as possible.”

“Did she,” you said, accepting the hoodie, “or did you want an excuse to come here?”

Sunghoon laughed. “You caught me. Can you blame me?”

“Very easily,” you said. “I have to go to work in ten minutes, so you’d better make this quick.”

“That’s enough time,” Sunghoon said. “Just wanted to talk. Can I come in?”

You shrugged and gestured for him to come inside. Sunghoon sniffed the air as he moved further inside your house. He had been over a few times just to drop Sungyeon off or steal a snack before heading back to his place. Sungyeon liked coming over because she thought your stepdad was hot. It was so hard to pretend like you didn’t agree with her. “Did you…”

“Did…I what?” 

Sunghoon lingered by your kitchen’s counter. “It smells like sex in here. Most people aren’t linking at 8 in the morning. So…you have a man?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled, embarrassed at having been caught. You had never really noticed the smell, but now that you were aware of it your face burnt. “He…slept over.”

“Nothing serious?” Sunghoon unzipped his hoodie slightly, feigning being overheated. 

“We’re not…exclusive,” you said slowly. “But we’ve never talked about finding other people, if that makes any sense? It’s weird. I don’t know.”

“A situationship,” Sunghoon said, snapping his fingers. 

“I guess.”

“Anyone I know?”

You winced. “Don’t know.”

“How cryptic. Anyways, I’m not looking for anything serious,” Sunghoon said. “Don’t get me wrong. Just...well, I’ll be blunt. You’re hot.” 

You had been by the kitchen table, packing your purse up as you talked, but now your hand froze. Sunghoon continued talking. “I came to you last night,” he said, voice growing lower. “You wanna know what I thought about?”

You glanced at your phone’s screen to check the time. “What, Sunghoon?”

“I thought about how good your tits would look covered in my cum,” he said, “or how’d they look soapy from the shower. I imagined fucking you in the shower, pressing your tits against the glass while I fuck you from behind.”

Your eyes widened. The words were going straight to your pussy, and you hated your body for betraying you. “Sunghoon…”

“It’s so hard acting like I don’t want you,” Sunghoon continued. “Sungyeon doesn’t want me fucking one of her friends, so I’ve had to just pretend like you aren’t one of the sexiest women I’ve seen. I’m so sick of it. I know you want me too.”

“Sunghoon, I have to go.”

Sunghoon sighed and started to walk off. “Fine,” he mumbled.

“But,”  you said carefully. He turned around, a hopeful look on his face. You counted the days in your head. You were busy at work today, Tuesday, and Wednesday, but… “Come over on Thursday at eleven.” Jay would be coming home on Friday, so there was no way he would catch you two.

Sunghoon grinned, revealing his darling little fangs. “Seriously?”

“‘Seriously’,” you mocked. “‘Oh, boy, I’m getting pussy!’”

“I’m not even listening to you,” Sunghoon said. “I’m already thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you. If you don’t mind being late for work, I could show you.”

“Tempting offer, but I really do have to go,” you said. 

“So hardworking,” Sunghoon said sarcastically. “All right, I’ll see you on Thursday.”

That night, you were pent up, so you decided to play with yourself. When Jay wasn’t around, normally you would focus your thoughts on him, on some fantasy, something you wanted to try with him. But your thoughts kept shifting towards Sunghoon, his slight build, his charming smile, his frustrating indifference, how his hands would feel all over your body. You thought about what he said, about him pressing you against the shower, cold glass pressing against your tits.

When you came, you whimpered his name. 

–

You ended up heading to Sungyeon’s on Wednesday after all. Your extra shift had gotten picked up at the last minute, so you decided to spend the evening with her. Generally, when Jay went on trips, you would stay by her. You hated to be alone in your big, empty house. 

Sunghoon was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. The things you had said to him yesterday didn’t feel real or concrete. Just a fantasy the two of you had came up with, talking out loud. You snuggled closer to Sungyeon as you two sat on the couch, watching a Spiderman movie. Sungyeon had pulled a large blanket over the two of you. 

“What are you guys watching?” Sunghoon asked. You looked up and squinted at him. He was wearing plain clothes as usual, his hair tousled. 

“Look at the screen, dumbass,” Sungyeon snapped. 

“That’s just Jake Gyllenhaal,” he sniffed. Sunghoon sat down beside you casually. You glanced at Sungyeon, but she was staring at the screen, eating her second, newly improved batch of Rice Krispie treats. You tried to focus on the screen, but Sunghoon’s body was radiating so much heat. 

“You’re hogging the blanket,” Sunghoon whispered to you. “I’m freezing.” 

“Don’t try anything,” you said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “I already promised you that we’d hang on Thursday.”

“I’m innocent,” Sunghoon said. “Now blanket.”

You reluctantly covered him with the blanket, and after that he was still. Until, of course, he rested his hand on your thigh. Just that touch alone felt delicious. Too delicious. You wondered if Jay was doing something similar on his trip, letting other women touch him. The thought made your stomach churn.

As if by magic, your phone started to vibrate. 

“Who’s that?” Sungyeon asked.

“My stepdad,” you said. Jay liked to call you to check up on you. You answered the call there, ignoring the burning sensation of Sunghoon’s hand slowly rubbing your thigh, moving higher and higher. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, his voice sleepy and husky. Sexy. “How are you?”

“Good,” you said. “How are you?”

“I could be better. I’m missing you,” Jay said. “What are you wearing right now?”

Your face burned, and you prayed that Sunghoon or Sungyeon didn’t hear it. “I’m at Sungyeon’s,” you said neutrally. “We’re watching Spiderman.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Go to the bathroom or someplace private.” 

You swallowed and stood up. “I have to take this,” you said to Sungyeon. “It’s important.”

Sungyeon nodded and popped another bite of Rice Krispies into her mouth. You didn’t get a look at Sunghoon before you hurried away to the guest bathroom upstairs. Locking the door, you learned against the door. “Oh, my God. You can’t just do that. They almost heard.”

“I’m sorry,” he said in that same low tone. It made your stomach roil in pleasure. “Just had to hear your voice. Now tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Just a hoodie and shorts,” you said. 

“And underneath your hoodie?”

“My tank top and…my bra.”

“Which bra? One I got you?”

“Yeah, the pink set you got me for my last birthday,” you said, reminiscing on that particular memory. He had practically fainted the first time he had seen you in it. “I’m wearing the matching panties too.”

Jay’s breath hitched, and you heard a squelching sound. “Fuck. Would you mind sending me a picture? Please?” 

He had never asked you for nudes before, so he really must have been hard up. “Of course,” you said, resting the phone down momentarily as you flicked the light on. “I’m taking my hoodie off right now,” you whispered into the phone. “Now, I’m taking my shorts off…my tank top…you really wanna see?”

“Yes, please,” Jay said pleadingly. 

Once you had fully stripped down, you flashed a quick picture of yourself on your knees, phone held high. He always liked you when you were in your most natural state, so you figured he would want a casual picture. You sent it to him, anticipating his reaction as you put the phone to your ear again.

“Jesus fuck,” was his quiet response. “So perfect. No one else gets to see you like that, right?”

“Of course not,” you said quickly. “Just you, always just you.”

“Wish I could tear that off of you right now,” Jay said. “I’d rip that thong off with my teeth, eat your needy little pussy for an hour straight.”

“I wish you would,” you said, longing creeping into your voice. “I wish you were here. I haven’t touched myself once since you left.”

“You haven’t?”

Of course you had. “No,” you whispered. “My fingers aren’t as good as yours are…or your dick.”

“Good fucking girl,” Jay said, his voice beginning to crack. “Good. I’ll make you cum over and over again when I get back. I’ll make you cum on my tongue, on my fingers, on my cock, until you can’t think. You’d like that, right?”

“I would,” you said. Your head was starting to grow cloudy, and you dipped your fingers into your panties to deal with the growing need there. Your clit was hot and you were already dripping with arousal. 

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“I am.”

“So, so good,” Jay said. “Can’t wait to reward you when I get home, give you everything a good girl deserves. Gonna fuck you in every room in the house, until you’re begging for me to stop.”

“I’d never want you to stop,” you said, circling your fingers on your clit and fighting back your moans. You could be loud, and the Park siblings were both downstairs. 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he said, and it sounded like he was straining just as much as you were. “Your body will be exhausted but you love my cock so much that you’d just let me keep fucking you. I won’t be able to stop myself. Just a few days without your needy little pussy and I’m already experiencing withdrawal. I won’t even make it past the door, I’ll push you down into the hallway and fuck you on the floor.”

You bit down on your lip hard, speeding up your movements. You were going to cum in record time, but you didn’t care. 

Jay kept going. “Going to mount you’re a bitch, fuck you from behind. It’s been so long since we did doggy, I can’t stop thinking about it. I love seeing your pretty face, but I love watching the way your ass jiggles when I grab your hips and just pound away.” 

“Close already,” you said quietly. 

“Me too.”

“Want you to fuck me like a bitch,” you said. “Want you to use me, Jay. Want you to treat me like your plaything.”

“Fuck,” Jay said. “Fuck, I’m going to. Just wait for me…  Ah, fuck, cum now, sweetheart. Fucking cum!” 

Your orgasm hit you so deeply that you had to clench your eyes shut and grit your teeth together. Your phone tumbled out of your grasp, and you could hear Jay grunting and panting your name. You hastily picked it up, checking for cracks. 

“Did you drop your phone?”

“Yeah,” you said with a slight giggle. “God, that was good.”

Jay sighed. “Sorry to bother you,” he said contritely. The shift in tone made you giggle again. 

“That’s all right,” you said. “I missed your voice.”

“I called you yesterday, silly.”

“Miss you all the time.”

Jay laughed as well, the sound filling you with warmth. “I missed you too.” 

You didn’t say I love you to each other, never did, so instead you said, “Take care.”

“You too. Enjoy your movies.”

You hung up on him and stared down at yourself. Panties dressed with your own juices, clothes off, body coated in your own sweat. You were in shambles. You bustled about the bathroom, cleaning up quietly. Once you looked presentable, you opened the door. 

Sunghoon nearly tumbled into the bathroom, but he righted himself quickly. “Stepdad my ass,” he barked. “‘I-I-I’m cumming! Uwah!’”

“Keep your voice down! And I don’t sound like that,” you snapped. “Why were you listening in on me?”

“You left in such a rush, I came up here to make sure that you were okay,” Sunghoon replied. “I guess you were really okay. Your legs are shaking and everything.”

You looked down at your legs, which were indeed quivering. “It’s none of your business,” you said.

“It is,” Sunghoon said, blocking your path. “You said it wasn’t serious, but here you are having phone sex with him.”

“It’s not serious.”

Sunghoon laughed sarcastically. “So unserious that you say that you miss him when he’s gone, right?” 

“Oh, so you don’t tell your boys that you miss them?”

Sunghoon looked offended. “No.”

“Then you are an unfeeling man. Now move. I’m missing the movie.”

“I’ll spoil it for you. Spiderman fucking dies.”

“No, he doesn’t.” You sighed and pocketed your phone.  “Look, we’re still on for Thursday, right?”

Sunghoon screwed his lips up to the side. “Yeah, we are.”

“So don’t worry about who else I’m fucking,” you said. “And I won’t worry about who you’re fucking. Okay?”

“Fine,” he said, moving aside, “but you’re a real shameless little slut, you know that?”

“Oh, don’t call me that,” you said, heading downstairs. “It’ll turn me on.”

“That’s why I called you that,” Sunghoon said, smacking your ass as you walked. 

Thankfully, Sunghoon left you and Sungyeon alone, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were doing something horribly wrong.

–

Thursday evening rolled around, and you were at your wit’s end. You didn’t know what other guys liked, not really. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t had experience with other guys, but the bulk of your early adult life had been with Jay. Someone you had lived with, who had seen you at your rock bottom, who didn’t care if you wore pearls and diamonds or greasy sweatpants. You had no clue how to impress someone.

You went to the bathroom and followed a makeup guide on Youtube, pursing your lips. It was a pretty cute look. When Jay got back, you’d do it again when you went on a date and he could introduce you two as your girlfriend.

Dolled up in your best lingerie set - a silky robe over a lacy, barely-there bra with a matching pair of delicate panties and thigh highs - you lounged on your bed. You rarely ever used it for sleeping or even sex, because Jay’s room was bigger, so there was a certain novelty in lying around in it at night. 

The doorbell rang. You glanced at the clock on your phone: only 10:45? Sunghoon was early. He must have wanted you worse than you thought. The thought made you smile.

You pranced down the stairs, flicked the foyer light on, and opened the door. Instead of Sunghoon’s lithe frame, Jay stood in front of you, holding a bouquet of gorgeous red roses. His eyes bugged out of his head as he took you in. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, “you look phenomenal. Hah, did you know I was coming home early? I wanted to surprise you.”

You took the bouquet of roses from him, desperately trying to fight the growing anxiety within you. You had never gotten Sunghoon’s number, so there was no way to contact him. You could ask Sungyeon, but it was so late that she’d question why you wanted it. “I didn’t know,” you murmured. “I was trying out the look I was going to do tomorrow.” 

“I took a red eye here,” Jay said. You placed the bouquet on a nearby coffee table. Jay’s eyes lingered on your chest on their slow journey up and down your body. “God, you’re a work of art.” Jay took his suit jacket off and tossed it to the side. 

“You know, Jay,” you began slowly. “I’m actually feeling a bit, uh, tired.” 

“Really?” Jay loosened his tie. “You don’t look tired to me.”

“Well, I am, and…” 

His lips pressed onto yours and you felt your defenses crumbling. Damn him. “When I said I’d fuck you in the doorway,” Jay said, “I meant it.” With that, Jay used his body weight to force you onto the floor as nicely as he could. Even through his dress pants, you could feel his hard length, and despite your growing horror, it made you feel wet. Maybe, Sunghoon would get cold feet. Maybe he was lying about wanting to fuck you. You comforted yourself with this thought.

Soon, Jay was bucking his hips into your warm, desperate pussy. Your panties had been pushed to the side, your bra was askew, and your thigh highs had been ripped. Your arms held yourself upright as he took you from behind, just the way he said. Worst of all, Jay had left the door swinging open. You were facing outside, and the foyer light was still on. Anyone could see you as he fucked you.

“Missed you,” he groaned. “Missed this pussy. I can tell it missed me, too.” His hands were wrapped loosely around your neck, applying comfortable pressure. 

You couldn’t even tell him that you missed him in good faith. You let out a pathetic little moan, your eyes trained on the darkness. To your terror, you saw a dark figure shifting, a phone light illuminating its way. It was coming towards your house. 

You didn’t know if Jay saw him, because he didn’t stop. His dick reached inside of you so nicely, but the fear clogged your throat. 

The figure stepped into the light, revealing Sunghoon. His mouth was agape, and he stared at you, then at Jay, then back at you, then at your tits. It was humiliating beyond words. 

“What the fuck?” Sunghoon asked. “The guy who’s been cucking me is Mr. Park? Your fucking stepdad?”

Jay, mysteriously, didn’t stop fucking you. He merely slowed down, and his grip on your throat moved to your midsection. “And you’re the skinny punk who has a crush on her, right?”

“She has a crush on me,” Sunghoon retorted. “She invited me here to fuck.”

Jay finally stopped, pulling out of you. You groaned, unable to face him. “Is that true?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said weakly. “Sorry, Jay. I’m really sorry.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Jay said. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

“Me?” Sunghoon pointed at himself in this overly ostentatious way that pissed you off. “Am I going to tell anyone that you’re fucking your dead wife’s daughter? Maybe. Why shouldn’t I?”

Jay swallowed audibly. “I’ll let you get what you wanted.”

“Jay!” At your outburst, Jay lightly pinched your side.

“You wanted it,” he said, his voice an irate growl. “You wanted to be a slut and fuck another man, so now you’re getting exactly what you wanted.”

Sunghoon still looked aghast, but from your angle you could see a bulge forming under his sweatpants. “You’ll really let me have her?”

“I will,” Jay said. “You just can’t cum inside her.”

Sunghoon’s Adam’s apple bobbed in anticipation. “Can I use her mouth?” 

“Sure you can,” Jay said. “I don’t use it often, so maybe she’ll be a little rusty.”

You hated that they were talking about you like you weren’t around, but you’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t a little thrilling. You watched as Sunghoon shut the door behind him and tugged his sweatpants down. 

“How long have you two been fucking?” he asked, lowering his boxers. He wasn’t as girthy as Jay, but he seemed like he was the same length, if not a little longer. 

“Don’t ask questions,” Jay said, and you could feel his cockhead bullying its way into your pussy. 

“Fine,” Sunghoom mumbled. Your arms were still braced for doggy, so all Sunghoon had to do was thrust his cock into your mouth, guiding it in with his hand. He groaned as soon as the wetness of your mouth wrapped around his dick. 

“She’s good, right?” Jay was now returning to his original pace, slamming into you steadily. He felt so good, intruding inside of your walls. “She’s always…known how to use that big mouth of hers…”

“I see why you started fucking her,” Sunghoon said, fucking your mouth slowly. He could hardly talk, his voice airy already. “She feels good.” It had been so long since you had had a cock in your mouth, and you liked the feeling of having both of your holes filled. You briefly pulled away from his cock to spit on the tile. After wrapping your lips around your teeth, Sunghoon pushed his cock back into your mouth impatiently. 

“She’s an angel to me,” Jay said with a wry chuckle, and it made you happy that he wasn’t so mad at you that he couldn’t say anything nice. A hand groped at your breasts, Sunghoon’s pale hands fondling your body. 

“I’m jealous,” Sunghoon said. “Wanted to fuck her for years.”

“You can be a little rougher with her,” Jay said, and as he spoke you could feel his pace increasing. He put his hands around your waist and started dragging you on his cock harshly. “Like this.”

Sunghoon took Jay’s advice and grasped both of your cheeks, taking control of your head. He shunted into your mouth like it was a pussy, and what was a mildly uncomfortable experience became his cock choking you. Your mouth filled with spit, and it ran down your neck. You gagged against Sunghoon, not only because of the face-fucking but because of the cock fucking you from the other side. 

“Can I fuck her…once you’re done with her?” Sunghoon asked, breathing clearly laboured. 

“Sure, buddy,” Jay said. Buddy? 

Sunghoon grunted and ravaged your mouth with his cock, the taste overpowering your senses. Your pussy was being worn out by Jay’s dick, and the stimulation was driving you insane. 

“Gonna cum inside you,” Jay said. “You aren’t even close to cumming, are you?”

Instead of answering, you moaned against Sunghoon’s cock again. Your arms were growing weak from holding yourself up while the two men used you. 

Jay’s cock throbbed inside of you, signaling his imminent release. With a final grunt, he came inside of you, filling your pussy with his cum. “Fuck,” Jay said, and you could hear him rising to his feet. “That was good. Your turn, Seungmin.”

“Sunghoon.”

“Right.”

Sunghoon finally let go of your head and pulled his cock out of your mouth. You gasped for air, and saliva dripped onto the floor. Your arms shook from the exertion. 

“Hold her arms,” Jay said, pointing at you. “She’s not gonna be able to hold herself up.”

“What, you think I’ve never fucked before?” Sunghoon snapped, taking the opportunity to run his hands over your body. Unlike Jay’s touch, which always brought a sense of familiarity, Sunghoon was explorative, greedy. 

“I don’t know what you’ve done,” Jay said, “but you’re just a little boy to me. I want to make sure you’re fucking my girl right.” 

“What, are you going to coach me?” Sunghoon held your wrists behind you in one large hand, his other hand working his cock a few times. 

“I’m starting to think I’ll have to,” Jay replied.

“Don’t you dare,” Sunghoon said. His cock probed the inside of your walls, and you gasped. It was all just skin and nerve endings, but you could feel the difference immediately. Sunghoon pulled you back so that you were flush against his chest, using his hips to fuck into you cautiously. 

“Turn her around,” Jay said. “I want to see her.”

“Cuck,” Sunghoon muttered, but he obliged, shifting you so that Jay saw you. Jay was leaning against the wall adjacent to the door. He had tugged his boxers back on and his hair was completely matted with sweat. His eyes were cold, colder than you had ever seen them, and your lips trembled.

“You can enjoy it,” Jay said quietly. “I’ve always known you were a bit of a whore.”

“I’m not,” you protested. “I’m not a whore…” Sunghoon plunged his cock into you, brushing against your G-spot, and you let out a cry.

Jay’s gaze remained cold, almost analytical. “If she moans like a whore, fucks like a whore…”

The worst part was you were enjoying it. You liked the way that Sunghoon fucked you. He fucked like a rabbit, energetic and youthful. He grunted and groaned like he was merely trying to chase his own pleasure. Up until today, Jay had always tried to ensure that you enjoyed sex, but they were both treating you like a sexy toy.

You matched Sunghoon’s movements, grinding down onto him when he thrusted into you. They had called you a whore, and you weren’t going to turn down that label. You moaned over and over again.

“Is she always so loud?” Sunghoon asked. 

“Normally, she is,” Jay said, and a ghost of affection appeared on his face again.

Sunghoon bucked his hips into you a few more times, but you could feel his cock twitching already. “Shit, where can I cum?”

“You’re cumming already?” Jay asked with a slight chuckle. 

Sunghoon didn’t respond, instead yanking his cock out of you with another groan. He pushed you so that you were on your knees once more, stood up, and rained his cum onto your lower back. Then he let go of you and crouched back into the floor, breathing in slowly. Once he caught his breath, he looked at Jay. “Your stepdaughter blueballed me for days,” Sunghoon hissed. “I’m surprised I didn’t cum in her immediately.

You were so overwhelmed that you couldn’t be assed to listen to Sunghoon complain anymore. Instead, you slumped onto the floor completely, cheek resting on the tile once more. 

“Poor thing is all tired out,” you heard Jay say sympathetically. After that, you entered a haze of half-wakeness and half-slumber. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you felt someone’s cockhead touching your pussy.

What fascinated you was that you didn’t know whose it was.

[attapullman]

Robert's Laundry Service | Neighbor!Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: A broken washing machine and a clogged bathroom sink lead you and Robert to explore the next part of your secret relationship.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Bob Floyd x afab!reader, no use of pronouns, no y/n, a little angsty, very smutty, 18+ ONLY as always, unprotected PinV, use of sex toys, language, a lot of cum mentions, neighbor!Bob being perfect as usual

A Note From Mo: Did anyone else miss neighbor!Bob? He needed some love, and that's what he's getting today! Thank you to @roosterforme for inspiring this idea that I took entirely too far. If anyone needs me, I'm going to be hoping that he moves into the empty apartment next to mine 🙏 p.s. this takes place before Stupid White Car

It’s hard to pay attention to the bad diagnosis he’s giving when your visual is just those threadbare grey sweats. Painted to his strong thighs, poking out from behind the washer like a personal serving of eye candy. You’re meant to be shining the flash light, but you long abandoned that task in favor of the view.

“…you can borrow mine in the meantime. I’ll call a guy Monday.”

Reluctantly, you draw your eyes from his lower half. Just as his words sink in.

“It’s broken?!”

Robert gives you a kindly amused grin. “Sweetheart, did you hear anything I’ve been saying?”

You grace him with a sheepish smile, caught red-handed.

“The tube disconnected from the wall and needs to be properly - professionally - connected before you use it again. I know it’s not the same, but you can do laundry at mine until someone comes out. I can make you tea and we can watch that undercover dating show you like?” His soft smile is as sweet as his offer.

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “Hey now, you like that show too.”

Those cornflower blues shine, glad you’re not objecting. “I do, but only because it’s funny when you yell at the drama.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and guides you away from the laundry, back to where the two of you had been trying to decide on takeout over a game of checkers. Allowing him to drag you down to the couch, hips colliding into the soft fabric, you resume a lovely afternoon with Robert. 

Robert, your helpful Mr. Fix It neighbor. And maybe, one day, your boyfriend.

Robert lending you his laundry room for the weekend is so generous. It feels a bit silly carrying your delicates through his back yard (especially when you know a few pairs are crusty from your…sleepovers) but you’ll take his selfless offer if it means clean laundry and a lovely afternoon spent with him. 

As you work your way past the kitchen, you’re caught off-guard once again by how charming his home is. The little bits of personality, the framed photographs and handmade trinkets. While you know he can’t get any more perfect, his home makes a compelling argument.

The laundry room is fairly unremarkable - washer, dryer, large farmhouse sink for the unsavory jobs too nasty for the kitchen - but you do like his view of the neighborhood from the window. You’re almost curious if anyone will walk by and notice you standing in the wrong house, lacy balconette bra in hand.

Already regretting the amount of folded laundry you’re going to have to haul back through the gate after this, you begin prepping a load of lace and satin. Brainstorming ways to expedite the process, you overshoot pouring detergent into the water-filled drum and spill the cobalt goo all over your hand. Shit.

You rush over to the sink, subjecting yourself to freezing water to wash the detergent off your fingers. Once sufficiently clean, you reach for a cloth to dry off. And that’s when you see it. 

Oh. You’ve never seen one in real life before, just in porn and the odd naughty ad while scrolling. It almost feels as if you’re being punk’d. Like if you sliced through it, it would actually be cake.

A cock ring, soft silicone and all. Casually sitting on the sideboard, freshly cleaned.

Every muscle in your body freezes as the implications of seeing something so private wash over you. Something meant between lovers that you had never seen in the weeks since that fateful night you let him in for a cup of tea. 

It’s been a few days since you had last slept over. A scary sinking feeling fills your gut…was there someone else? 

You had been so focused on the neighborhood not knowing. Staying in your homes, using the back gate. It wasn’t like you had ever verbalized your intentions with him. You couldn’t blame him for thinking the two of you as casual, as much as it twisted your insides.

As your thoughts spiral, there’s motion in the doorway and Robert is suddenly there, big shoulders and a soft smile on his face at seeing you in his space. Exactly where he wants you.

“You get it going in here? Find the detergent okay?”

Those kind cobalt eyes follow your gaze to the sink, where you can’t break your focus on the dark silicone device. The one he meant to put away before you came over. His cheeks flush as he steps into the room to attempt to explain why he has something so private sitting out - in his laundry room of all places.

But as he goes to open his mouth, you cut him off. “You don’t have to explain. I don’t need to know everything in your….sex life. You’re obviously welcome to do whatever you like in the privacy of your home.”

His eyebrows raise, unsure why you seem so upset when the only issue is a clogged sink in the ensuite last night. 

You edge around him, desperate to get out of this space - his space - away from everything that reminds you of him as he figuratively slips through your fingers. “We never discussed being exclusive, so I get it.”

“What are you-?”

Tears threaten to spill over as he follows you toward his back door. “But if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with us seeing other people, so-”

Robert’s eyes bug out of his head. Seeing other people? His blood pressure rises as the dots connect behind those pretty eyes, and suddenly he’s racing to cut you off. You’re faster than you look, but before you can turn the handle of the back door he’s plastered his body against the wood, effectively blocking you from leaving.

The pain behind your eyes begs him to move, to let you run back to the safety of your own home so you can cry and despair over not locking him down sooner. Of course there’s someone else. Of course you’re not the only one who can see how great Robert Floyd is.

“Robert, I need to leave. I need a moment alone. Please.”

But he holds his ground. The second you walk through that door he knows he’s lost you. His eyes are cautious behind those thick lenses, wanting to obey your wishes but the risk of losing you making every nerve stand on end. Whatever is wrong, he can fix this. He will fix it.

“Sweetheart.” His fingers reach into the space between you, hand clenching into a fist when he’s unsure whether he’s allowed to touch you right now. “There isn’t anyone else. I promise, you’re…you’re the only one.”

You eye him hesitantly, wanting to believe his words. But that cock ring has never made an appearance in your sleepovers. Never once brought up when he’s standing between your parted thighs, lips slotted against yours.

“I really want to believe you, I do. But why else would you be cleaning your, erm, toy?” You can’t bring yourself to say cock ring without bursting into frustrated tears.

It’s now that the fight within him drops, and immediately his shoulders release. Embarrassment floods his features and he drops his gaze, no longer able to look you in the eye. This is not how he anticipated bringing this dynamic into your relationship.

“That…it’s…I-I use it when I’m alone. I like to, uh, edge myself.”

His cheeks are flaming and the burning despair inside you dissipates into intrigue. A flame traipses through your abdomen, curious and hungry.

“You use it…alone?”

He desperately nods, tentatively reaching out to grasp your hands, needing to feel you. Those thick, strong fingers rub against your knuckles soothingly. Despite the whiplash of emotions conflicting inside you, his presence immediately soothes and you lean into his touch.

“The nights you can’t come over…I prefer to save my orgasms for you. Only you.”

His blush reflects yours as you look into those ocean-deep eyes, the desperation clear across his features. He’s being honest, laying out every last secret he’s got to keep you here.

“So, there’s no one else?” Your voice feels so small, barely a whisper in the kitchen.

He shakes his head definitively, using his grip on your hands to bring you closer as he stares deep into your eyes. “There’s no one else. And the fact you would even think that means I’m not doing a good enough job proving how much I care for you. Because I like you so much, sweetheart, so, so much.”

The tension in your body breaks, and you allow yourself to lean into his strong body. His panic dissipates as he holds you to him, one arm flush against your waist as his hand holds your face to his chest. He’s never letting you go, of that he knows for sure.

He can’t believe there would be any doubt in your mind of his intentions. The sleepovers, the dinners in, the way he’s made a home between your thighs…that makes you official, doesn’t it? He’s never been one for the right words, but he was pretty sure his actions proved he was in this for the long haul. 

You’re too important to mess up. To allow any seed of doubt to spread. 

His nose traces along your temple, warm breath kissing the delicate skin. “Can I take you to bed, sweetheart?” 

Your face lifts from his chest to take in his honest face. The loose tendril of sun-lightened brunette that’s escaped his neat hairstyle. The thin lopsided smile you trust in. Eyes behind corrected lenses that are serious and playful in the same breath. 

In lieu of an answer, you mold your lips to his, drinking in his taste you’ve deprived yourself of for days. His kindness and sincerity sink into you, surrounding you the pleasantly overwhelming way his body does as he wraps around you. Holding your hips as he swallows your tongue, shifting himself to feel every dip and curve of your body.

As his lips find your neck, the laundry room comes back into view. A delicious thought swirls in your mind and the words burst from your mouth.

“Can I see?”

He nuzzles against your jaw, grinding his erection against your thigh. 

“See what?” He’s distracted by how good you smell, how soft your skin feels beneath his fingers.

“I want to see you with the cock ring. Show me, please?”

Arousal floods his mind, images of you naked beneath him while his balls throb with cum just for you. No words needed before he’s pushing you in front of him to his bedroom. He’s ready to show you just how devoted he is to you.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, it feels like the first time with him all over again. Anticipation of the unknown, drowned in heavy lust. 

His eyes rake over you as he enters the room, lust darkening those soft blue eyes. You’re exactly how he wants you always - in his bed, eager for his touch. Right now, he’s yours.

Taking the spot between your legs, strong fingers stroking along jean-clad thighs, his broad frame bends toward you to rest his forehead against yours. That button nose knocking into yours. 

“There’s been no one else since the day you moved next door. I’m yours, only yours.”

The build up of emotions behind your eyes threatens to spill over as he presses his lips to yours. Cups the back of your head as he leans into you, applying the softest pressure. Pouring every ounce of his devotion into his kiss.

Your legs wrap around his slim hips, needing to feel his security and care. He’s the most helpful man to exist, and you know he’ll guide you through this dynamic. 

Kisses turn sweet to frantic to passionate as Robert holds your face. Your lips are chapped when he finally pulls away, strong chest rising and deflating. You know you mirror his disheveled aroused appearance. His hand reaches behind to his back pocket.

He holds the black cock ring between you, freshly washed, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight peeking through the curtains. “Are you sure about this?”

Your apprehensive eyes meet his, although a slight smile plays along your lips. “Play dirty with me. Please.”

Condensation beads on the lower rims of his glasses as he dips his face to kiss you, his skin flaming hot. The kiss is sinful yet curt, not wanting to lose himself before practicing restraint. You run your tongue along the seam of his lips, savoring his flavor. He hums against your mouth as your hands find his waist, heart picking up speed as your fingers find the button of his jeans. 

Robert clenches the cock ring in his fist, already struggling to hold his load as the softness of your skin wraps tightly around his hardening cock. 

His eyes are lidded, thin mouth already agape from the pleasure of your fist stroking firmly up and down his shaft. Can barely keep focus between the way you squeeze his deep pink tip and the spectacular view down your top, his mind running wild at the all the skin he needs to touch. He’s practically forgotten the reason for his view until you lick your lips sweetly and ask.

“Can I put it on?”

Fingers unfurl and present the silicone ring to you, warm from his clenched fist. You press the ring between your fingers, taking in the smooth design and thick circumference. Glide your thumb along the little button that makes it vibrate. 

He’s panting above you, already wrecked at the vision. The only two things he deems worthy of his cock, right in front of him. 

Bringing the ring up to your lips, he watches as you run your tongue along it, gathering your saliva to glisten along the silicone for a smoother glide. Your fingers effortlessly slipping along the edge before you touch it to the sensitive tip of his cock. 

His fingers curl around the nape on your neck, holding the hair there, grounding himself. Between your ministrations and the pressure of the ring slipping down his length, he’s dizzy with stimulation. His cock immediately swelling in response. Lip between his teeth to contain the gruff moans you’re desperate to hear.

Your eyes are focused on the firm grip the ring has on the length of him, sliding down until your thumb is brushing his heavy ballsack, pulsing with need. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to last.” He’s panting against your forehead, trying so hard to be patient, but wanting nothing more than to thrust into your fist and chase his orgasm. 

You tilt his chin to press a chaste kiss to his lips. A promise to take care of him, because you and you alone are responsible for his pleasure. Always.

Sliding back onto the soft coverlet, you raise your hips to remove your jeans. Skin growing warm at the wanton look of need in Robert’s eyes as you unbutton your top. His voice but a whine when you sit in front of him in nothing but the delicate chain around your neck. 

“So beautiful.”

It’s impossible to tell whose whimpers are more desperate as you run the shiny-slick swollen head of him against your core. Moaning as it catches on your entrance, ready to sink deep into those velvet depths. Voices becoming one as you impale yourself on the thick shaft that’s all yours.

He can’t believe anything could be better. This is Nirvana. Until you reach between to where your bodies meet and hit that tiny little button.

“Fuck!” He never swears, and yet that filthy word streaks through the room with a bite. Yelped loudly as he buries his face into your neck. The combination of vibrations and warm, tight pussy sending him into a spiral. Groaning out praises into your neck like it’s his last day alive.

You can’t help the grin on your face as you experience him come undone. How had you been denied the pleasure of watching him like this? The salt of his neck, the wayward curl stuck to his forehead? It’s a toss up if you’re getting off on being stuffed with his engorged cock or by watching the way his chest heaves for breath as he fights off his orgasm.

“Are you going to cum for me?” You’re drunk on power watching him like this, rutting his hips into you over and over for a pleasure that won’t come until you decide. His nod so desperate it goes right to your clit. His swollen cock stretching you beyond what you thought possible. The frisson of skin on skin, those tiny yet powerful vibrations, and his affection for you is overwhelming. 

The ring fully still in place, your orgasm wracks your body, convulsing over the sheets. Barely able to notice his soft lips brushing the arch of your breasts as he consumes your satisfaction. Drinking in the sounds of your moans as they mix with his wet thrusts. 

Your sleepy eyes are all he focuses on as he chases his orgasm, fighting past his usual routine of stopping here when he only has his hand. Right now he gets to have it all - the constricted blood flow, the vibration, and you. Perfect, wonderful you. His hands fist in the bedding, rooting himself, as sinks his hips deeper with precise strokes. 

He can do this. He will show you you’re the only one for him.

Body quivering, his face is bright red as he thrusts, exertion bringing the vein in his forehead out with a matching bead of sweat. Robert feels his body take on a new consciousness as you ask for his cum once more.

His grunts are filthy - animalistic and deep. The first stream of cum he’s ever experienced with the ring on filling your stretched pussy, claiming you as his. Head fuzzy, he takes a moment to pull himself from your soft embrace and jerk his engorged cock, shot after shot of cum pumping out across your body. A painting only he gets to witness.

His tank now empty, you feel the soft thump of his body fall beside yours. Hear him catch his breath in the quiet afternoon air.

Exhausted, his face knocks into yours - glasses already lost to the coverlet - as he comes to reality once again. Strong arms reaching to pull you to him. Lackadaisical kisses to your cheek before risking a glance down and laughing abashedly.

“T-there’s so much cum. It’s everywhere.” Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

The carefree yet sheepish grin he gives you melts your heart. You kiss him back, not needing to look as you feel his seed dry on your skin in the golden hour light. He very truly marked you as his, just as he is yours. 

Smoothing your fingers through his hair, memorizing every little detail of his face - what a handsome face - you ease his embarrassment. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll just throw the sheets in the washer and enjoy dinner. It’s fine, really.” 

His washer currently filled with your delicates complicates things, but your big, sweet smile soothes his self-consciousness. He returns the grin back, holding you closer. 

That night is spent eating Robert’s lasagna and playing cards until every light on the street went out. It’s far too late when the sheets are finally clean and dried, and even later when they’re successfully on the bed. But it’s worth it to him when you crawl under the duvet and beckon him closer, needing one last kiss from your boyfriend before sleep.

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[jallerentrags]

Better than him.

James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.

James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.

He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.

Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.

At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.

He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.

“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”

James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.

“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.

“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”

Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.

“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”

“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”

James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.

“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”

————————————————��———————-

The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.

"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.

"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.

"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.

From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.

"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."

"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."

James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."

You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.

You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.

"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."

"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.

"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice, baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.

"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You'd like that." you said between laughs.

"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, hands balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.

The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:

'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’

- Y/n Black and James Potter

[kentocidal]

FILE NAME: SHARING IS CARING!.TXT

USERS FOUND: stepbro!eijirou kirishima x fem!afab!reader x best friend! bakugou

WARNING! THIS FILE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED! DO NOT OPEN! stepcest, threesum, oral (m! and f! receiving), corruption, dubcon, piv, unprotected, dirty talk, coercion sort of, scummy!kiri, ask to tag

NOTES ABOUT THE VIRUS: your stebrother kirishima promised his best friend a taste of the forbidden fruit.

INTERNAL MESSAGE: i don't even care if this flops im posting it for me. happy first kinktober fic! visit the masterlist here!

NEW NOTIFICATIONS! @kaedescara @yaekiss @pvbbyb0y @voidshoutsback @4izawas (want to be added? send me an ask off anon!)

“are you absolutely sure this is gonna go over well, red?”

kirishima huffed out a laugh at his friend’s question, glancing over at him from the driver’s seat of his car as he drove the both of them back to his house. “yeah dude! it’s gonna be great. she’s really sweet, y’know. i’ve already told you everything about her. she’ll be fine.”

bakugou shifted slightly in the passenger seat, jutting out his bottom lip and turning his head to look out the passenger window. the familiar suburban landscape opened up more around them as they turned onto a familiar street, one that they always walked up and down as teens growing up.

it was bakugou’s first time back on kirishima’s street in a long, long time. it wasn’t kirishima’s first, though.

kirishima’s mother had remarried another man after he had moved out of the house, and with him came the introduction of probably the most stunning girls he’d ever seen in his entire life. ‘she’s like an angel,’ he’d mumble over to bakugou across a table in the dining hall, showing him a candid of you in sweatpants and a tight tank top on his mom’s couch, ‘she just lets you do anything to her, man. it’s like a built-in girlfriend. she’s always like, ohhh nii-san…’ 

bakugou had been apprehensive about the whole situation. he’d known that kirishima had… a thing for that cringe roleplay stepsister porn, but the fact that he was going through with it now that it was a reality had originally made him a bit concerned.

it had taken a lot of convincing for him to agree to come home with kiri for a weekend for … a relaxing getaway, as kirishima had put it.

kiri made the turn into his small driveway and picked up his phone, tapping quickly at the screen. “lettin’ her know we’re here…” he muttered under his breath before the little whoosh sound of the message sending rang through the car. 

bakugou took a deep breath, feeling out of his element. he felt like he was walking into a temptation set up by the devil.

kiri whistled to himself as he got out of the car and wandered to the trunk, popping it open to grab their backpacks. they were only spending the night, not expected to be there past sunday, so they had chosen to pack light.

bakugou gathered himself and stepped out of the car, pushing the door shut a little too hard when the front door of the house smacked open suddenly.

and there you were, in tiny sleep shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top, house shoes still on as you grinned and hurried down the stoop to your stepbrother. “eiji-nii! you made it!”

bakugou felt like his mouth was full of cotton as you hurried into kirishima’s arms, nuzzling your face into his chest and kicking a foot up, giggling into him. you were… you were going to rot his brain out. you with those thick thighs, soft-looking skin, clothes tight to your body and the curves of your ass poking out of the bottom of your sleep shorts.

kirishima wrapped his thick arms around your frame and held you tight, pressing his face to your hair and breathing deep, as if he hadn’t just seen you this time last week. “hey, careful! almost knocked me over.” he laughed into you before letting you go to take your shoulders, pushing you back to get a good look at you. “beautiful as always.”

bakugou felt out of place, for the first time in his life, watching his best friend observe his little stepsister, a girl who fell into his lap that he got to stick his dick in. it should be wrong.

kirishima looked over you to bakugou, those crimson eyes of his meeting burning carmine, shark teeth on display. “you remember how i told you my friend was coming over?”

“hm?” you turned and looked over your shoulder, all wide eyes and plush, wet lips that made a knot form in bakugou’s throat. he instinctively clicked his tongue, averting his gaze while kiri squeezed your shoulders. 

“i know you remember that i told you he was staying with us this weekend. hope you still don’t mind. you don’t, right?”

you looked up at your stepbrother and pouted, face feeling hot from embarrassment, you had been so excited about your stepbrother coming home that you had forgotten about your guest. you pulled away from kiri to turn towards bakugou, sticking out a hand in greeting. “nice to meet you, sorry for being so rude, i just got excited.”

bakugou looked down at you with a mixed sort of facial expression. it read like he was angry, but he was more frustrated with his own feelings as he grabbed your hand in his to shake it once. (your skin was so soft, you smelled like coconut, you probably just applied lotion, what would your hand look like wrapped around his-)

“nice t’ meet ya too.”

—

kiri was sat on one end of the couch, bakugou on the other, beers in hand as you hummed to yourself while cooking dinner. you had offered, against bakugou’s protesting, and insisted that you needed to be a good host for your brother’s best friend while he stayed in your home. so he had allowed it, staring at you through the entryway into the kitchen from his spot on the couch while he watched the way your shorts bunched further around your thighs, long legs exposed. 

kirishima chuckled, startling him out of his trance. “you enjoyin’ the view, bro?”

“this is insane,” bakugou choked out, shifting to face a little more towards kirishima. “this is- this isn’t right. you’re a freak.”

“and yet, you still came.” he shrugged, swirling the beer by the neck of the bottle before taking a swig. “she’s fine with it. she came onto me.”

“i still don’t believe you.”

“dude! i swear! that’s what happened! i was gonna try to be normal about this, yknow. but she wanted me so bad.”

bakugou scrunched his mouth up and sat back on the couch. kirishima was fucking his stepsister who he claims came onto him. kirishima was fucking his stepsister, and he was going to fuck her next. 

“dinner’s ready!” you called out, smiling at the pair of them, and kiri grinned oh so innocently up at you as he stood. “you’re such a doll. thanks, sis.” he patted your head as he walked past you, and you just beamed at him.

bakugou could tell you were trying to act like you weren’t sleeping with your stepbrother in front of guests. he could see how you were holding off, sitting at the opposite ends of tables or rooms, fussing with your clothing a little more than someone who was completely comfortable in their skin. 

dinner was… interesting. there was a sort of heat in the room that no one chose to acknowledge. you asked bakugou about his classes, smiling so prettily when he gruffly explained what his major was, what he wanted to do after graduation. kiri cracked jokes as always, talking around mouthfuls of food as if he had never learned manners. 

things took a shift after you and kirishima did the dishes.

kiri had suggested a movie, except the movie was never picked.

you suggested snacks, too, but the popcorn was never made.

bakugou felt like he had blinked, and suddenly he was on one end of the couch while kirishima was again sat on the other, back to the armrest, one leg kicked up and stretched out on the couch cushions.

you had been pulled into kirishima’s lap after trying to reach over him for a blanket. that had been the catalyst. your back was to kiri’s chest, and his hands had slipped their way up under your tiny tank top to cup your tits with a low groan. “missed you, nii-chan.”

“eiji-nii, what are you-”

“shh, he wants to see. i told him all about us, and i let him know that we were good at sharing.” he mumbled against your ear, his wide forearms starting to bunch the fabric of your tank top further and further up.

your eyes, nervous and embarrassed, were locked dead on bakugou’s, knees knocked together, tits about to be revealed and spill from kirishima’s hands.

kiri was groping his little stepsister in front of his best friend, and he was getting hard.

bakugou felt his nostrils flare as the cogs started to turn in your pretty little head. and then, finally, what he assumed was the real you started to poke through the cracks of your innocent facade. 

“is he gonna watch us, eiji-nii?”

“i want him to join. he’s my best friend ever! you think you can help him out? make him feel just as good as you make me feel?”

“only if he wants to…” you murmured and started to chew on your lip, brows furrowed in concern.

the weight of both his best friend and his best friend’s little sister sat heavily on bakugou’s shoulders for just a moment. he could say no. he could get up and call a car right now to take him home. he could call kirishima’s mother, tell her about what her son and precious stepdaughter have been doing behind their backs. it wasn’t right. it was filthy, it could ruin them-

kirishima gripped the front of your tiny tank and tore the fabric off of you, causing you to squeal in surprise and flinch at the sheer show of strength. your tits, soft and pillowy, nipples hard from the groping, fully on display in front of him.

katsuki bakugou had morals, yes. but katsuki bakugou was also merely a man.

“i wanna fuck you, sweetheart.”

kirishima grinned. “told you bro. best pussy you’ll ever get.” kiri turned his attention back down to you, sliding a massive hand down your front to cup your pussy through your sleep shorts. “you’re not even wearing panties, spread your legs, show kats how wet you’ve been for us.”

you, with your head already swimming from the attention, dropped your knees and spread your legs, revealing the damp patch in the crotch of your shorts. bakugou practically choked. if he had just reached over at the dinner table, he could’ve felt your pretty pussy much earlier.

“now then, nii-chan, i want you to treat kats like he’s your big brother too. make him feel really special.”

“red, don’t-”

“trust me.” kirishima’s eyes cut back up to bakugou’s, and bakugou felt something in him falter. he always viewed himself as the leader of their small friend group while growing up, always taking charge in risky situations. but here, on this couch, in a house he practically grew up in, bakugou felt small next to his best friend, who seemed far too in his element to be normal.

you, lips wet and eyes glassy, nodded anyways and looked up at bakugou with a soft smile. “katsuki-nii.”

“oh, fuck.” bakugou breathed out, shifting closer to you on the couch. “let me see you, take those shorts off-”

kirishima helped you lift your hips up for bakugou to get your shorts down and off of your hips, and he practically started drooling at the sight. you, gorgeous you, your pussy drooling and almost clenching around nothing, puffy clit aching between glistening folds. 

kiri hummed in the back of his throat, dipping his hand back down and swiping two thick fingers through your lips, making you gasp and shudder. he brought his fingers up to his own mouth with a dirty grin. “she tastes good, bro. you should try it.”

bakugou’s gaze flickered between you and kirishima, before ultimately landing on you. you smiled at him, spreading your legs impossibly wider, reaching up a hand to cup his cheek. “katsuki-nii, please, want you to-”

you didn’t have to say anything else to convince bakugou to drop to his stomach and press his mouth to your sopping cunt, lapping over you with wide strokes of his tongue and groaning into your pussy.

you moaned, a hand flying to his hair while the other braced itself on kirishima’s thigh. you tossed your head back onto kirishima’s shoulder, already trying to rock your hips up to meet bakugou’s tongue halfway.

kirishima’s hands found their way to bakugou’s hair and to your mouth. two of his fingers dipped into your mouth, encouraging you to suck on them, which you gladly obliged, swirling your tongue around the digits and pretending like it was your big brother’s cock. 

bakugou felt his hair get yanked, and he hissed before looking up and meeting kirishima’s dark gaze. 

“get a good taste, man. you’re gonna fuck her mouth after. don’t let her cum.”

you whined desperately in the back of your throat in protest, but kiri only pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth to make you gag and gurgle around them. bakugou hummed against your clit, sucking your puffy nub into his mouth to really make you leak. 

you squirmed in kirishima’s lap, clutching bakugou’s blonde locks as his tongue expertly swirled around your clit and his fingers prodded at your entrance, two of them slipping into your hole without much resistance. you bucked your hips, clenching down hard around his fingers as he crooked them upwards towards the spongey spot inside of you, and bakugou had an inkling of a feeling that he wouldn’t get his treat if he didn’t listen to kirishima.

he felt the way your breathing suddenly changed, and sat up, fingers and the bottom half of his face soaked with your juices.

kirishima pulled his fingers from your mouth, and you cried out in frustration. “katsuki-nii, please! so close, please-”

“don’t you wanna cum on this cock, princess?” kirishima sat up a little more and grabbed his hard cock through his sweats, making bakugou let out a breathy chuckle. 

“he’s right, baby. you know the rules. you only get to cum on your big brother’s cock.”

you felt the coil in your tummy start to loosen as kirishima stood and maneuvered out from under you, pushing you back against the armrest. bakugou took the free moment to crawl over you and smash his lips to yours, letting you get a good taste of yourself while on bakugou’s lips.

you heard kirishima remove his sweatpants off to the side, listening to the familiar sound of him spitting onto his palm to start stroking himself to the sight of you being manhandled by someone else. 

“kats,” kiri grumbled, and bakugou sat up while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “yeah, yeah, ‘m goin’.”

“nii-chan, put your head over the back, yeah? gonna suck katsuki-nii’s cock just like you suck mine.” kiri crawled over you and grabbed your throat to guide your head back. you swallowed and nodded, obeying immediately with a small yes, eiji-nii that made a spike of heat go down bakugou’s spine.

bakugou dropped his sweats and boxers to the floor, stepping out of them to finally give himself a few precursory pumps as you laid back fully on the couch, your head hanging off upside-down on the armrest. you licked your lips as kirishima guided your legs around his waist.

bakugou took a good look at the situation he found himself in. his best friend was hovering over his stepsister, fat cock prodding her entrance, no condom in sight. he swallowed thickly at the little sounds you started to make as he guided his cock through your wet folds, slicking his cock up with your juices. he caught himself staring at kirishima’s back before looking back down to your parted lips and where you started to drool all over your cheeks, and he couldn’t hold of much longer.

“open wide, princess,” he murmured, a hand reaching to grab your throat. you opened your mouth as far as it would go, and bakugou made himself a home in the wet cavity of your mouth.

he groaned, loud and low, his free hand reaching down to flick one of your nipples and grope your breast.

kirishima’s eyes glanced up as he listened to how you gurgled around the thick, foreign cock in your mouth, trying to adjust to the position and the new intrusion.

then he smiled, because he knew he was going to just knock the air out of your lungs. he pressed the fat tip of his cock to your weeping hole, and slammed himself home.

you gagged hard around bakugou’s cock, jerking and moaning out, legs locking instinctually around his waist.

“oh, baby, ‘m sorry. just couldn’t wait anymore, my li’l sister’s pussy was just too pretty for me. you can handle it, you always take it.” kiri grinned up at bakugou, at how his face was scrunched up and contorted with pleasure from how your throat was spasming around his cock.

kirishima started a rough pace, barely giving you room to catch your breath as you did your best to breathe through your nose, bakugou was quick to follow, sinking inch after inch further into your throat with huffs of yeah, that’s it, good fucking girl, taking your brother’s cock, i can feel where ‘m at in your throat.

kirishima reached down to grab your hands and pin them by your head, keeping you fully pinned as the tip of his cock slammed up against your cervix over and over. he was deep, filling you in the best way possible, while his best friend’s fat balls smacked against your face as you sucked his cock.

you felt lost, fully debauched, becoming pliant and fully receptive to their wills. you were a toy, and you loved how it felt on your skin.

bakugou moaned as he felt how deep he was fucking your throat, thrusting harder against you and feeling his legs start to shake. “can’t- ‘m gonna cum-”

“told you she- ah- was good,” kiri groaned as he leaned down to bite into the skin of your shoulder, making you whine and gag again around bakugou’s cock.

you squirmed and thrashed with each hard thrust from kirishima, the force of his hips making you bob harder up and down on bakugou’s cock. you felt stuffed, your legs felt on fire, but you were right on the edge.

bakugou shuddered before whining, sinking his cock deep into your throat to spill his hot load in a place you wouldn’t be able to spit from. you moaned around his length as you felt him cum down your throat, warm spurts and twitching cock making your head spin.

kirishima slowed his thrusts, rocking his hips against you as bakugou took his time riding out his high before stepping back and pulling his cock from your throat.

you wheezed, coughing before absolutely making sure you swallowed every last drop, opening your mouth again and sticking out your tongue to show bakugou that it was all gone.

kiri grinned and chuckled in order to get your attention again. “what a good little girl, swallowing all your brother’s cum. think you can take my load, too?” “please! please, nii-san, please give it to me, make me cum-” you whined loudly as you got the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your big brother in close to you, his massive form towering over you as he practically bent you in half to get deeper.

“i will, i’ll give it to you. shh…” kiri almost sounded affectionate, fucking you so hard the couch started to creak. “fucking- cum for me, cum on my cock, lemme feel you-”

a few swipes of his thumb on your clit sent you finally over the edge, squirting on him and feeling yourself grip down on his cock. he groaned into your shoulder as he came right after you, tumbling into his high and hearing the squelching sounds of his load filling your tight pussy.

he rode out both of your orgasms before finally settling down on top of you, peppering your face with kisses as you shook. then he looked up to where bakugou was sat on a loveseat, dazed, watching from afar.

kiri shifted and opened up a space next to the both of you, and you smiled over at him. “come here, katsuki-nii.”

bakugou swallowed before walking right into the demon’s trap.

[neondiamond]

.

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do SMAU for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she is a huge bookworm and he always so supportive about her passion And the Internet has gone crazy about it. Thanks :))

Bookstagram - Toto Wolff x BookwormWife! Reader

Plot: Taking a look through your bookstagram and how supportive Toto Wolff is of your love for reading. Encouraging you to pursue your dream of writing.

Credit to multibabydoll for the GIF

You loved reading and books. Before you met Toto, you used to be a bookseller and then worked for a publishing house. You actually met Toto because of the influx in Motorsport Romance's that made your company send you to a race to get some ... hands on experience and you ended up having your own sort of Motorsport Romance with a Team Principle.

You ended up marrying Toto and at first it was hard, but when COVID came and you ended up working from home since then so coming to the races had been much easier.

y/user

Liked by lucyscore laurenroberts and mercedesamgf1

y/user: My reads of the month! Really loved both of these and I can’t wait for book to from Lauren!

Book 1: Things We Hide From The Light by Lucy Score

Book 2: Powerless by Lauren Roberts

Tagged 2 People

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lucyscore: I’m glad you enjoyed this one!

-> y/user: it’s really good!

fan1: i love these!

toto.wolff: Is this the book you were reading on the plane?

-> y/user: Yes, the other one I read at the race track!

laurenroberts: babe! I’m glad you enjoyed! Come to a book signing and I’ll get you a proof of Powerful!

-> y/user: no stop! I’d love that!

DM’s

laurenroberts: Hey Babe, got an event on 29th November, in Florida. You want to come as my special guest?

y/n: id love that! Thank you so much for the invite! I’ll just need to talk to my husband. I’ve never travelled solo and I’m a nervous traveller!

laurenroberts: That’s fine! Just let me know as and when babe!

“Babe, can we talk for a second” you asked your husband as you walk into the kitchen where he is sat with his morning coffee.

"Yes honey what is it?" he asks looking over at you, pushing a glass of orange juice towards you.

"Well, one of the authors that I really like invited me to a book signing.."

"Oh that's amazing sweetheart. Are you going to go?" he says checking his emails not fully paying attention.

"Well, thats the thing. It's over a race weekend... and" you start but his head bolts up to interrupt you.

"You better not be asking for my permission for if you can go, you know you don't have to ask!" he says almost as though he's offended you with think that of him!

"No, no of course not. But I'm scared to go alone, you know how I am!" you explain and he nods remembering the last time you guys flew.

"Well, how about I buy you a nice first class ticket and make the experience worth it. I'll pay for a fancy hotel and a spa evening for when you land ... how does that sound" he grins pulling you into him kissing your forehead.

"You don't have to do that for me!" you exclaim feeling bad!

"Ah no honey, I do this all for you!" he smiles pulling you in for a full kiss.

y/user

Liked by stephaniegarber and ashleyposton

y/n: What do you guys prefer, Romance or Fantasy. I love finding quiet corners at the race track!

Tagged 8 People

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stephaniegarber: Did you enjoy it?

-> y/user: It was so good! I moved straight onto Legend! And Toto brought me OUABH!

ashleyposton: I see those outlines! Thank you for your review on goodreads!

olivia_blake: ahhhh, i hope you enjoy it!

fan1: Y/N is definielty a motorsport romance girlie considering she literally lived one!

->fan2: i forget about this!

"Baby, you have to stop packing so many books!" Toto laughs as he gets out his card to pay the extra bagging expense where your bags had ended up being overweight.

"I'm so so sorry! I didn't realize how many I'd take back with me, American Books are so much more floppy than the ones at home... even though I prefer our covers!" she answers, going to get her card out.

"I'll pay baby don't be silly!" Toto laughs tapping his card as air port staff come over and help you guys take the bags away.

"You are my little book worm aren't you!" he grins pinching your cheeks like an older lady.

"Stop!" you say swatting his hand away.

y/user

Liked by toto.wolff and others

y/n: Toto helped me rebuild my book nook AND took me out for a book haul! It's up on my YouTube now!

Link

Tagged 1 Person

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sarahjmaas: looks amazing!

toto.wolff: I'm happy to help baby!

-> y/user: BEST HUSBAND.

You and Toto had spend the day putting up the swinging chair, and making the room cozy with fairy lights.

He had started to organize your shelves in colour coordination order making a rainbow. You felt so bad when your need to have them in genre and alphabetical order took over.

"Baby, as incredible as this looks, I'm never going to find any books!" you argued and he looks and pulled out Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros.

"See I found you current smutty dragon book!" he smiles handing it to you and your eyes widen at the lingo he was using.

"Have you been... watching my videos?" you ask in shock.

"Mmmm yes honey. i find them very amusing!" he admits and you just stare at him in shock.

y/user

Liked by lewishamilton and toto.wolff

y/n: He looks like this so that I can look like this …

I LOVE MY HUSBAND

Tagged One Person

View all 245 comments

fan1: shes so unserious ... lmao

fan2: and you look fab!

You were thankful that Toto worked as hard as he did, he treated you all the time and you treated him in return.

Your husband was so supportive and was without a doubt the best thing that had ever happened to you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[tmr-simp77397]

galentine’s day - r.c. ❥

summary: while your planning a galentines get together with your friends, rafe overhears and decides otherwise..

warnings: smut!! 18+ fem!reader, sub!reader, switch!rafe, creampie, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, innocent-ish!reader, aggressive!rafe, making out, degrading, praise, fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YALL TAP IT), nicknames, and i think that’s it!

a/n: hiii i’m back!! i got this idea to write this story mid class today and just decided why not i need to get my thoughts out and actually write. hope u guys like it ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

rafe was at your house on this gloomy saturday afternoon since your parents were gone for the weekend on business. you were sitting on your bed watching tiktoks, the netflix show that had been put on hours ago was since ignored, and rafe had been downstairs getting snacks for a couple minutes. as you were watching a video about the 10 year olds storming sephora, you got a call from sarah.

you pick up and speak into the phone “hey sarah! what’s up?” you say with a smile even though you know she doesn’t see you.

“heyyy y/n, you busy tonight?” sarah questioned.

“i mean, no not tonight. i’ve just been with rafe all day” you pause, “other than that i’m free tonight, why?”

sarah squeals, “me and the girls were thinking to have a little galentines party at kat’s house! what do you think? it’s gonna be around 7 so you definitely have time to get ready.”

you glance over at the clock, 5:14PM. you were going to spend the whole day with your boyfriend, but one girls night can’t hurt, right??

as you were about to respond, rafe walked into your room with some of your favorite snacks. he sat back onto the bed and rested his hand on your thigh while saying “what does sarah want, whatever she said tell her no.”

“sarah ill text you” you say into the phone as you hang up. “sarah invited me to kat’s house tonight for a galentines party”

“the fuck is a galentines” rafe chuckles

you roll your eyes “it’s a valentine’s day party for girls who are single and still want to have fun on valentine’s day”

“mmm, as of 4 months ago though you are not single— if i’m correct.” rafe said sarcastically.

you smirk and sit up “i know that. and my boyfriend is funny, and veryyyyy sexy for your information”

“i’d like to meet him one day, seems like a handsome guy” rafe cooed.

there was an intense silence for about a minute as you two both looked in each others eyes, rafes pupils dilating making his green eyes get full by the black orb.

“rafe are you okay” you say practically whispering looking up at him through your eyelashes.

rafe doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds, letting his eyes wander your body and face, landing on your plush pink lips. out of nowhere, he grabs your neck and roughly places his lips on yours practically attacking your face. you gasped from the sudden reaction allowing him to shove his tongue into your mouth. “mmmh” you moaned, getting onto rafes lap to have a better angle kissing him. you started to move your hips against his lap, not noticing what you were doing still being dumbfounded by him kissing you not too long ago.

rafe pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips together. as you were about to complain, rafe spoke up “fuck princess, i’m so hard”

you licked your lips excitedly and say, “i could help you rafey” while taking off your tank top in the process.

“no y/n” he said. “tonight, it’s gonna be all about you. get undressed.”

you look at him shocked. you had to be at sarah’s party soon!! but, you could never pass up sex with your boyfriend. and in this moment, neither could he.

“i fucking said get undressed, now” rafe said, almost shouting.

while that did startle you, you started to unclasp your bra, and take off your shorts along with your panties. after, you laid flat on the bed, your elbows propping you up.

rafe smirked, he loved when you obeyed him. he started kissing your collarbone sucking marks that will definitely show the next day, making his way down to your boobs. his hand made its way to one of your boobs, needing it with his hand, and moved to your other boob swirling his tongue around your nipple.

“mhmmm- fuck rafe, feels so good” you moaned

as rafe was swirling his tongue around your nipple, he suddenly stopped pulling off with a pop.

“rafey, why’d you stop” you whined. you didn’t get a response until you felt his hard on pressing into your thigh which made you gasp.

an amused smile played at rafes lips, “see what you do to me sweetheart” he said lowly “i’m going to fucking ruin you.”

that sentence alone almost made you cum. anytime rafe dominated you made you feel like mush under his touch. and this was one of those moments.

as rafe stayed on top of you, he took off his shirt to reveal his toned abs that were glistening with sweat beads. your eyes trailed down to his happy trail, wanting more.

“tsk tsk, not yet sweetheart” he cooed.

you whined, starting to get impatient. when suddenly, you felt rafes fingers plunging into you knuckle deep.

“mmh rafe please” you screamed

“doesn’t that feel good, baby?”

“fuck, y-yes rafe, feels so- so good”

rafe hummed in appreciation, thrusting his fingers at a faster pace and adding another one. you gasped loudly, head falling back onto the pillows as your hands flew to rafes buzzed head, scratching it lightly.

a few soft moans fell from your lips and rafe swore he was in heaven. you sounded so beautiful, even in this position. you were going to be the death of him.

“f-fuck rafe im- im close” you say as you clenched onto his fingers, the pleasure feeling almost too good.

as soon as rafe felt you clench on his fingers, he pulled out. he couldn’t help but stare at your face. hair clinging to your face from sweat, lips all puffy, you looked somewhat innocent but so dirty at the same time.

as soon as you opened your mouth to protest, rafe brought his head down to your puffy clit and started to swirl his tongue around it, “you taste so fucking good sweetheart” he said muffled.

and without warning, you came all over his tongue. being overstimulated from not being able to finish earlier including this made the knot in your stomach snap sooner than you thought.

once rafe felt you cum, he lifted his head up from your pussy and started to unzip his pants. you, however were still in a trance from your orgasm so you didn’t really hear him.

rafe threw his pants to the floor and pulled down his boxers, cock springing up hitting his lower abdomen, tip glistening with pre. he started to jerk himself off a bit before going into you.

you got snapped out of your trance when you felt something against your sensitive pussy from your previous orgasm and started to whimper and close your tired legs.

rafe saw this and immediately pushed your legs back apart, holding them in place with his strong hands.

“what a slut, cumming without my permission and now you think i’m not going to fuck some sense into you huh?”

you whined “rafe please no more.”

rafe chuckled to himself, “your gonna take it weather you like it or not baby. should have came with permission before.”

right after he said that, he shoved his fat cock inside of you making you gasp. you’d never get used to his size no matter how many times you’ve had sex before.

“fuck, princess so tight.“ he complained

you let out a near pornographic moan and arched your back while bringing your hands to rafes back and scratching lightly, “feels—fuck—feels so good”

“say it princess” rafe demanded, “say it slut, say i’m the only one who can make you feel this good”

you couldn’t form any words cause of how cock drunk you were, and rafe knew that, so he teased you.

he brought his right hand up to snake around your throat with a tight grip.

“fucking say it” he spat

you started scratching his back harder signaling to stop. he loosened his grip, thrusts still consistent, and let you speak.

“your- your the, fuck- your the only o-one that could make feel th-this good” you stuttered, hoping he would take his hand off your throat.

“now that was easy right princess” rafe smirked with a look of evil in his eyes. it scared you seeing him like this, but you liked it at the same time.

the sound of skin slapping was the only thing in the room that could be heard. other than your moans and rafes groans. you felt the knot in your belly almost breaking, signaling you were close.

“r-rafe” you managed to choke out, “i’m close”

he shook his head “when sluts like you break the rules, you only get to cum when i say so”

you whined. you couldn’t hold it in for any longer; but you had to or else you know you would get punished.

rafe felt you clenching and groaned, “fuck your so sexy”

a red tint spread across your cheeks as rafe started rubbing your clit in a figure 8 motion. it took everything in you to not let go right there. but, you held it in.

as you felt his dick twitching inside of you, you knew he was close.

“fuck ‘m not gonna last longer with you squeezing me like that baby” rafe groaned, “you can- fuck- you can cum now angel, let go. i’m right behind you.”

as soon as you heard those words you let go, you squeezed him tightly, your cum squirting out of you.

“gonna fill you up baby. gonna give you my babies” rafe said as he also let go as he came inside of you, moaning loudly.

as you were in a cloudy state, you could feel ropes of rafes cum coat your walls, making you whine.

you felt his thrusts get sloppy, his hips stuttering as his dick twitched inside of you.

he let his head dip down to the crook of your neck and started giving sloppy wet kisses.

“your mine baby. all mine. did so good for me today”

you smiled softly, eyes drooping as tiredness takes you over.

rafe glanced at the clock on your nightstand, 6:18PM.

“now baby, your gonna go to that party with my cum dripping down your legs, got it?”

hi baby’s, i feel like this was a bit rushed so let me know what you think ❦ i also haven’t written in a while, so i hope you think it’s good :)

taglist: @annaherling444 @purswaterfall my baby’s i love u

[icaruspendragon]

Hey I just wanted to say thanks, because idk why this didn't just occur to me, but I've been missing "family" meals, the kind of meals I get to make for people and sit down with people I love since I came out and had to leave my house, and idk why but you posting about having family dinners with your friends where you host them made me realize that like, that's something I can still do. If I don't have the people who will invite me over to eat a meal anymore I can always be the person who invites others over myself and idk, I just wanted to say thanks

this warmed my heart in ways i don’t know how to describe.

family dinner started because i’d get some friends over on tuesdays to watch supernatural prequel the winchesters and i’d make them dinner for their troubles. i was feeding like five people max. but then the show ended and one of my friends got a new job and had to move an hour away so we moved it to the weekend so she could still come.

and then i realized that cooking is actually a form of self care for me (let’s not examine too closely how my self care is still taking care of others, it’s been discussed enough in therapy). so we started inviting other folks. and family dinner went from five people regularly to seven. and then i’d have friends from out of town come and it’d be 15-17. and now it’s not unusual for a dozen people to show up at my house on a saturday night to drink and eat and make merry.

there’s a particular kind of warmth that comes from leaning against the entry to my dining room, glass of wine curled against my chest, seeing so many of the people i love sitting around my table as they laugh and bicker and eat a meal that i used so much love to make. food that i spent hours creating because they gave me the confidence and the desire to learn how to make new things. because the effort it takes for me to make pasta or gnocchi or sauces or broths from scratch is worth it. the hours i will spend standing over a hot stove as i make gumbo or chicken and dumplings or fried everything is worth it. the easy smiles and whiskey-reddened cheeks and raucous laughter and full bellies and warm togetherness is worth the trouble.

it makes me understand the last supper (you know, minus the foreboding of betrayal). there’s a divinity in making a meal to share with those you love.

i’ve yet to find a better way express my devotion than to say, “take this, all of you, and eat of it. for it is my love given up for you.”

because even though the darkness can be chasm-wide and canyon-deep, my love is wider and deeper. it’s the bridge over the consumption of it all.

when people sit at my table and break bread that my hands have tenderly prepared i see the point of it all. loving and be loved in return.

and sometimes that love is stored in poetic words and grand gestures. and sometimes, that love is stored in a stockpot full of soup. but they both accomplish the same thing at the end of the day. warmth and safety and care and devotion.

it’s love. plain and simple and small.

[lightsoutnaway]

Happy Anniversary

PAIRING—Lando Norris x gn!reader (no pronouns or gendered language)

SUMMARY—Lando forgets your anniversary.

WARNINGS—None

WORD COUNT—1,150

You knew Lando forgot your anniversary when he said goodbye to you in the morning. He would have said something then if he had remembered. He had all day at work to remember though. You were holding out hope that he would at least remember during the day and do something at the last minute. But instead you got a text at around 5:00 from Lando saying he would be home late and you should eat without him. That was the last straw for you. You texted him back, knowing exactly what the text was going to do to Lando.

Okay, I’ll eat alone. Happy Anniversary.

The typing bubble appeared for a moment after you sent your text. It disappeared and then reappeared and then disappeared again. It appeared once more.

I’ll be home in ten minutes

Lando was true to his word. He was throwing the door open almost exactly ten minutes after he’d sent the text. He drove faster than he did on the track to get back to you.

“Baby?” Lando shouted as he rushed through the door. He was sprinting through the house looking for you. He found you seated on your bed quietly watching tv. He let out a deep breath of relief when he saw you. He had it in his head that you wouldn’t even be there. “Hi, love,” Lando greeted.

“Hi.” You didn’t look at him. You didn’t ask him how his day was. You didn’t tell him you had missed him. You didn’t pull him in for a kiss. You didn’t do any of the things you did when he came home. He felt like he wasn’t home at all.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Lando started rambling. He was moving across the room towards you. “I know I messed up. I’ve just been so stressed at work and it’s—”

“You don’t get to blame everything on racing, Lando,” you interrupted. Lando stopped about a yard from your side of the bed.

“Blame everything?” He asked. You took a deep breath.

“You can’t make it home for dinner because you have to work late. And you can’t come to my sister’s wedding with me because it’s during a race weekend. And you can’t come home with me when I visit my parents because you can’t leave while they’re working on the car,” you recounted the ways racing took precedence over you. Lando wasn’t sure what to say.

“Baby, I don’t want to fight,” he said quietly.

“Then you shouldn’t have forgotten our anniversary!” You snapped. He looked down at his feet.

“I know,” Lando said. “And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I won’t ever stop being sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you aren’t going to keep,” you said dryly. Lando never knew what to do when you fought. He was horrible at handling it, always so lost in the idea that you were upset with him.

“I will,” he promised. “I’ll do anything. Everything. Whatever you want.” You looked at him, your eyes filled with anger.

“I want you to care about me.” Lando’s heart felt like it shrunk up at those words.

“I do care about you. I care about you more than anything,” Lando gushed.

“You care about racing more and we both know it,” you replied. Lando shook his head.

“No. I care about you more, baby. You’re my life. Racing’s my job,” he said.

“That’s not the way it feels,” you told him.

“I’m sorry,” Lando apologized again. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll do better. I’ll come home on time. We’ll both go back to visit your parents next month. I’ll talk to Zak about a reserve driver in Miami so I can go to your sister’s wedding. Everything. I want you to have everything.” He looked at you, waiting, hoping that he had promised enough. That he could do enough to fix it. That he was enough.

“They’re just words, Lando,” you said after a moment. Lando was very aware that you weren’t calling him ‘Lan.’ He wasn’t fond of the new name.

“They won’t be, love,” Lando said. He closed the rest of the distance between you and sat on the edge of the bed beside you. He grabbed your hands and felt a wave of relief wash over him when you didn’t pull them away. “I’m going to do it all. I’ll book the tickets to your parents right now,” Lando said. “I’m going to be here. I’m going to be with you.” He felt his heart breaking. “Please,” he begged. “Let me be with you.” Your eyes softened when you realized how worried Lando was—what he thought was about to happen—how he felt that it was over between you.

“You are with me,” you assured him. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand. Lando leaned into your touch. “Just…keep it that way, please?” Lando nodded.

“Always,” he promised. There was a moment where he just soaked in your forgiveness. He let himself feel the relief of knowing it wasn’t over between you. “What do you want to do tonight?” He asked. “Tomorrow there’ll be dinner and presents and everything you deserve. But tonight I might not be able to do as much.” You laughed.

“Just get in bed with me, idiot,” you requested. Lando grinned. He took off his shoes and then climbed into bed with you. He pulled you against his chest, wrapping his arms tight around you and burying his nose in your hair. Your hand spread out over his chest drawing shapes against the soft sweatshirt he had covering his body.

“I’m sorry,” Lando whispered and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You deserve better than me.” You let out a small laugh. You leaned up so you could press your lips to Lando’s. His lips were slow and tender against yours. He was savoring this after he had felt the fear of never kissing you again. You hummed in satisfaction when you pulled away.

“Maybe,” you said and smiled down at him. “But you’re the only one I want.” Lando smiled up at you. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you. He knew you were too good for him and he was grateful for every moment that you gave to him. You were perfect. You were the love of his life. You were the thing that mattered most. Lando wasn’t going to mess that up ever again. He leaned up to press one more quick peck to your lips before raising his hand and pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes.

“Happy Anniversary, baby,” Lando said softly. “I promise I’ll do better for the next one.” He said it partially to ensure himself that you would have another anniversary. You smirked.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you around then.”

[little-diable]

Chi, I'm here to request a smutty Tommy blurb if you're still accepting them. I can't stop thinking of the garden scene you wrote recently and now I'm hoping you'll be inspired to cont that thought OR write something between Tommy x reader which finds them giving into their passion outdoors. I think you're onto something about this setting being relaxing for Tommy 😉

My love!! Thank you for this, I truly love this pairing just as much. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: No direct follow up to this, but the same vibes, just pwp, Tommy eats out his wife in their garden

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), outdoor

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (800 words)

“I think this was the first time they didn’t cry,” (y/n) whispered her words to her husband as she sat down next to him. She had just waved goodbye to her father who had taken her and Tommy’s children with him for the weekend.

“They’re growing up.” Tommy kept his eyes closed, smoking his cigarette as he enjoyed the sun rays dancing over his pale features. The soft summer breeze wrapped itself around them, teasing the two lovers. 

“Don’t act like I didn’t catch you close to tears as Emma told you she won’t need another bedtime story last week.” With a sigh Tommy opened his eyes, shaking his head at his scowling wife before rolling his head back towards the sun. 

“Don’t rub it in, eh? I can’t let my wife run her mouth and destroy my image without paying the price for it.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her laughs from rumbling through her, leaning closer to kiss Tommy’s warm jawline. The hum leaving her husband left (y/n) grinning and squealing as he tugged her closer, landing on his lap. “So, we’ve got the house to yourselves now, don’t we?” 

“What’s your plan, Mister Shelby?” Their eyes met, his full of excitement and mischief, hers filled with curiosity and longing. He pulled her in for a slow kiss, allowing her to taste cigarettes and tea on his tongue, a mixture she had learned to love over the past years, adjusting to the way Tommy Shelby lived two different lives as a cruel gangster and as a loving family man. 

“First, I want to get a taste of my wife, right here only for my eyes to see.” Tommy rose to his feet with (y/n)’s legs wrapped around his waist. “And then I’ll fuck you through the night.” 

“I certainly won’t stop you from doing so.” She was placed down on the ground, on the blanket their children had sat on this morning, keeping their clothes clean before driving off with their grandparents. (Y/n)’s eyes followed his every move, watching Tommy push her dress up to her waist, groaning at the sight of her bare cunt. “Took off my underwear after they left, I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to grow impatient.”

“A smart woman I’ve got on my hands, eh?” He smirked at her before he buried his face between her thighs, tongue brushing through her slit, tasting her arousal. The birds sang in the distance, yet not loud enough to drown out her moans, the beautiful sounds clawing through her as Tommy ate her out. 

He loved the sounds rumbling through her whenever he touched her, only his to pick up on, his to coax out of her. Tommy had his wife at his mercy, ready to feast on her, to turn her into a trembling mess as he towered over her with his cock twitching in excitement and his heart racing from the adrenaline thumping through him.

“You taste so sweet, fuck, I could die between your thighs, darling.” He groaned his words against her cunt as his fingers found her pulsing bundle. Cruses left (y/n) at the touch, forcing her to arch her back off the blanket, eyes focused on the blue sky above. He always managed to push her close to the edge within a few seconds, leaving her gasping and trembling for him only.

“Jesus, Tom, you’re too good at that.” A proud grin tugged on his lips as he dipped his tongue into her tightness, feeling her walls tense around the strong muscle. She was close, ready to let go with his name leaving her – the first orgasm of many to come. Her fingers tightened their grip on the blanket, trying to hold onto it as the intense feeling washed through her.

It was a spectacle so beautiful, Tommy wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of his brain, imagining the most beautiful sight he could come up with. But the moans were too powerful, and the trembling of her body was too real, leaving him chuckling as he watched her fall apart.

“I won’t say no to spending the next few hours like that.” (Y/n)’s breathless whispers drew another laugh out of Tommy as he crawled up her body, meeting her lips in a slow kiss.