#only because requester asked for second image to be from it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ridingtorohan · 7 months ago

Text

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 request. the crew's reactions to walking in on reader touching themselves.

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. potential second hand embarrassment, reader is gender neutral (no genitalia specified), getting caught, masturbation, semi-public masturbation.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Masterlist ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Part Two: walking in on them

By all accounts, Curly is a respectable captain. He respects boundaries and doesn't cross the line. He's the captain, after all. Not having locks on the door is a safety issue, he knows. Just as he knows to knock. It just wasn't on his mind; he needed your help with something and you're technically available.

So he breezes right in, words on his lips and - there you are.

Holy shit, there you are. In all your lewd glory. "Oh." Then, oh. "Sorry, I'm just-" and he doesn't even finish the sentence because he backtracks and shuts the door behind him.

The thing is, that image haunts him, later. Wriggling like an infestation inside his skull. When he sees you, he acts every bit the proper superior, doesn't bat an eye. Internally, he sees flashes of skin, the way you moaned and sighed.

It leaves a lasting impression in his mind and he's so painfully aware of it. Aware of it in more ways than one because he knows nothing can come of this. It's awkward enough walking in on someone, awkward even more when everytime he knocks on your door afterwards, he's praying that you'll be nude and waiting for him.

Late at night, he remembers it, stroking himself and pressing his face into a pillow as his hips jerk, spilling himself over his fingers, wishing that it was your hands on him.

Sometimes, he wishes you'd walk in on him too.

Even Jimmy knows better than to poke through doors, especially when everybody is awake. He's never felt the need to, not with the open door policy and frankly, until this, he's only noticed you in passing.

Nimble as ever, he opens your door, irritated over something that one of the crew members had done the other day. Sometimes, he just liked to vent and rage about the injustice. You're easy to talk to, but he's never really sought you out for anything else before.

The door shuts behind him and he just stands there, previous irritation set to the backburner. Because there you are, uniform discarded and showing off your form, hand between your thighs as you nursed your arousal.

Above all else, Jimmy is a certified voyeur. He likes to watch and admire, drilling inside his head about the way your hand moves, the curve of your spine. Each individual sound. But even Jimmy has his limits.

When you're close or have already come, he slides up behind you, hot breath at your neck, thick hands skimming over your waist, to your thighs, only to settle on top of yours. "As much as I enjoy the view, pet, I'm going to take it from here." And he makes damn good no his promise.

He makes a mental note that to visit your room far more often.

Anya really just needed an answer to a quick question, relating to your latest check in to the medbay (or your duties). She knocks on the door, too softly to be heard over the sound of your activities.

It takes her an embarrassingly long time to even realize what was going on. All she sees is your huddled form. First comes the concern, her hand reaching out for your shoulder, "Are you oka-"

And you let out such a noisy sigh that she freezes. She's gotten laid before and suddenly it hits her like a truck just what she walked into because she knows what those sounds mean. Furiously backpedalling, her hand raises to her mouth. "I'm so sorry."

Quietly, she excuses herself from your quarters, ears a little red and hands shaking.

For a long, awkward time afterward, she can't even meet your eyes, even going as far as delegating the psych eval to Curly.

If you ever get injured, she performs it as meticulously as she can, her eyes tracing over every ounce of your body, trying to forget the way you moved.

Frankly, at one point, one of you would have to address what happened. But she's more than eager to ride this bumpy path until then, even if it strains your relationship with her.

Everytime she sees you that familiar, yawning ache simmers in her gut.

As much as she tried to deny it, what she walked in on affected her.

When the tension becomes too much, she finds herself sitting on her leg, grinding herself against her calf, biting the inside of her cheek as she imagines you there.

As stupid as it is, she might have maybe done it in your presence, hands trembling as she tries to keep a conversation going, desk separating you two. Other times, when it becomes unbearable, she rubs her thighs together or slides her calves against the leg of her chair, praying to god that you don't see her. (But half of her hoping that you will.)

He's been looking for you for the better part of half an hour; usually, he finds you in obscure places or with his intern, so the last place he thought to look was in your bedroom. Really, that should have been his first guess. You two were supposed to talk about something and it's been on his mind like a nagging hornet.

Sure, walking into another's room is technically frowned upon, but with all the mishaps of Daisuke barging into people's rooms (much to the disgruntlement of, well, everyone) that for a split second he didn't even consider it.

He just opens the door and - okay, so you're doing that. No wonder you were absent, so engrossed in self pleasure that you didn't even hear him stepping in.

Swansea feels too old for this, seeing your twisted figure, your cries of pleasure. So he just turns around and shuts the door, leaving you to it.

He tucks himself back into a latest project and perusing Daisuke's homework, busying himself until you're finished and in public. Not that he planned to publicly confront you about it, but because he knew everybody needed a little time alone. As small as the Tulpar was, he knew any time and space should be well spent. Even if he silently questioned your methods.

But he does bring it up. He doesn't let it slide (not like how your hands slid between your thighs and-).

Despite whatever personality conflicts you two had, he had eyes and all working parts, thank you very much. He also had needs.

Once the original topic was out of the way, he crossed his arms, expression serious when he says, "Now, it's all my doin' for bargin' in like that, but I saw something of you that I shouldn't have." He'd elaborate if he had to, "If alone time is what you're after, we've got socks for that. Toss it on your door handle and be done with it; I ain't gonna let nobody disturb ya during it."

As awkward as that conversation was, he's handled it before. He has grown kids, after all. But you're not his kid, and you're certainly grown - he's seen that. Noticed it off-hand a few times before too.

He sighs, leaning back, letting you decide when he adds, "But if release is what you're after, I know a thing or two, and I can help you with that."

All but acting like a lost puppy, Daisuke often turned to you for help in locating his missing items. Batteries, dust pan, his gameboy cartridge. (Swansea was so mad the last time he lost the screwdriver and thanked you profusely with your help locating it.) So popping in for a quick minute into your bedroom to ask for your help in locating his soap was a mindless task.

He pops in, door banging, energetic words on his lips. His brain all but sputters when your eyes connect, nude form on the bed, sprawled out, light sheen of sweat on your body, looking like a tribute straight from the gods.

Despite your hasty attempt to cover and a spew of apologies from Daisuke's lips, he can't take his eyes off you. It's like he can't even blink, so absorbed in your image that half of what he's saying doesn't make sense.

You'd have to forcibly remove him because he is rooted to his spot, unable to vacate of his own free will. He'll be banging on your door, pleading to be let back in, to talk it over. He's not sure what he wants to say - more apologies? Explain why he's there? He wants to offer help so badly.

If he's not pushed out at all, his brain ceases to function. Despite being a handsome lad, and being twenty, he's hardly been with anyone. Sure, he knows exactly what you're up to - he's done it himself plenty of times-- but all those words die in his mouth.

"Soap, I swear I'm just looking for soap," he explains, trying to rush into an explanation, the only coherent thing he can say.

He'll eventually manage to sputter, "I was going to go shower, but nowIwannaknowifyouwanttojoinme" is strewn in with "ohmygodpleaseletmehelpyou".

He's all jittery, achingly hard in his pants, wanting to touch and hear you make those sounds again. Daisuke feels like he'll go insane if he doesn't. Hands fidgeting, his fingers curl in, unconsciously taking a few steps in. He'll finally manage a coherent, "Please let me stay."

3K notes · View notes

realcube · 22 days ago

Text

— BEST FRIEND! SUNA

desc ;; after being blocked by a situationship, you show your best friend your nudes and ask for advice. tws & tags ;; nsfw mdni. distribution of explicit material, oral, objectification, mentions of squirting, breeding, anal & filming.

the door to suna's room creaks at you step inside.

after having spent all day bed rotting with your best friend, you decided to step out for some fresh air (and a quick smoke), and unsurprisingly, suna is still exactly as you left him — on his phone, leaning back against his headboard. he doesn't spare you a glance as you enter the room.

your phone is still perched precariously on the edge of his bed, and you approach it with caution. part of the reason you rushed outside was because during an awfully risque text conversation with a guy you've been talking to, you obliged and sent him some lewd pics. but he left you on read.

in your defence, it was a heat-of-the-moment decision, and he did request it, so it's not as though you were sending unsolicited images like some sort of perv. but the fact he was taking so long to respond did make you feel like one, though a small voice in your head tried to reassure you that surely he wasn't ignoring you, perhaps your pics have just given him something to take care of.

regardless, the larger part of you was moritified and unsure what to do, so you just dropped your phone on the bed and removed yourself from the situation — clearing your mind before you returned.

now, it was time for the moment of truth. you sat yourself awkwardly down on the corner of the bed, and hesitantly reached for your phone. no new notifications: that didn't fill you with much hope at all. after inputting your password, you navigated to the app and searched for his contact, and suspiciously it wasn't it your 'recently messaged' tab.

your heart was already thundering in your chest, but this only made it far worse. all your messages and chat history with this guy had disappeared, and when you tried to desperately type one out to him, it was immediately marked as 'failed to send'.

you frown, body going slack as you fall back onto the back and defeatedly drawl, "he blocked me.."

suna finally perked up from his oblivious post at the other side of his bed, "who blocked you?"

"the guy i was texting.."

"that sucks." suna responded bluntly. though you couldn't blame him, he clearly didn't understand the severity of the situation, so you tried to explain it to him,

"you don't get it! i actually really liked him, and we were having such a nice time talking until.." you trail off, failing to find the courage to admit the shameful truth.

"until?" suna pried.

"rinny! can i ask you something?" you inquire, swiftly sitting upright as you shift the conversation, "can i send you some photos and you can tell me what you think of them?"

if suna was being completely honest, he was only half paying attention to whatever it was you were saying, so naturally he didn't notice the sudden change in topic of discussion — or he just didn't care. your new request wasn't foreign to him though; often you'll ask him to review random pics that you plan on adding to a photo dump online. or asking him to rank what order you should add the pics to your instagram carousel. or in which of these three images are you serving the most cunt. stuff like that, thus he agreed.

"sure. send them and i'll look."

"yay." you hummed with delight, and eagerly forwarded him the pics, "let me know what you think. i thought they looked fine but now i'm having second thoughts.."

he tapped the notification at the top of his screen and was directed to the chat with you. in which, he was met with an influx of images he was not expecting.

you, his best friend, who he's known for as long as he can remember, perched on your bathroom counter and posing for a mirror photo — wearing nothing but a floral thong and no top. your back was facing the mirror so he couldn't see your chest, but the plump globe of your ass was fully exposed and unshielded by the skimpy sliver of fabric.

his blood rushed to his head, and also his dick. his whole body was tense and thus his eyes were glued to the lewd picture of you, not only because he was mesmerised but also since he was so rigid he couldn't bring himself to move his thumb.

the furious pounding of his heartbeat rattled in his eardrums. he's never seen you so bare before. of course you've worn revealing clothes around him before — like when you go to the beach together, or sometimes when you're just hanging out in a warm environment — but never in such a purposeful or pornographic manner.

don't get him wrong, you've always been alluring to him but he just assumed that was just a part of your nature and he was being a sly pervert for secretly viewing you in an explicit way. like when you'd pull your hoodie off and your shirt would ride up and he'd get a peek of your underboob. or when you'd sit with your legs up on the couch while wearing shorts and he could see the outline of your sweet folds. it was undoubtably hot but that was never the intention, or so he assumed.

even though your back was to the mirror in the image, he could still tell that you weren't wearing any top, and the placement of your other hand just underneath the rotund curve of your ass was so deliberate and hot. it's like he was seeing you in a whole other light; he didn't know you were capable of being so sexy on purpose — he always assumed it was more of an accidental thing for you.

it's like his whole impression of you was shattering. maybe you weren't the sweet girl with a grimy sense of humour he thought you were; maybe you were truly a slutty bombshell. it was surreal and nauseating yet he still ached to see more.

though, before he began scrolling through the several other images you sent him, he gulped and turned the phone to show you the screen, "uhm, did you mean to send me this?"

you furrowed your brows together and leaned forward to inspect the screen, afraid you might've sent him pics of your medical anomaly that you meant to show the doctor. but once you examined the pic, you sighed and sat back in place, "yeah, those are the right ones." you state plainly, and suna proceeds to stare blankly at you, entirely speechless.

it freaked you out a little, so you attempted to fill the uncomfortable silence, "what do you think? that's what i sent to the guy before he blocked me. i thought they were kinda cute.. but there must be something wrong with them." he still looks astonished, so you clarify, "and he asked for me to send them, by the way. i didn't just do it randomly."

suna nods slowly as if that were of any reassurance what-so-ever. you press him to continue looking, and he cautiously does so. his thumb moves on his own as he swipes through the multiple suggestive images you sent him. and his dick begins to throb looking at each one.

they are all so hot; makes him feel so perverted for enjoying it. many are taken in your bathroom mirror, a string bikini top with a measly little thong on. he recalls you wore that exact set to the beach with him one time, except you were wearing a floral sarong too. it was sheer but there was still enough fabric to obscure you're delicious ass. but in this picture it was all out for the camera.

there was even a couple shots from that one halloween where you went as a zombie cowgirl. the costume itself was cool but suna recalls it wasn't revealing or intentionally 'sexy' or anything like that — which is why his heart leaped upon seeing your various upskirt pics, that were probably taken after he walked you home after a night out. some were shot directly up your skirt, showing the plushness of your ass up close, while others were taken in your bedroom mirror. either with you lifting your skirt up teasingly, or full-on bent over for the camera. from certain angles, he could even see the imprint of your lips through your thin panties which drove him absolutely insane.

to think, if he was smart enough that night, he could've stayed over at yours and buried himself in that cute ass, that you were clearly so desperate to show off. could've ate that pristine hole and felt your soft ass cradle his face. it's as though he could hear the adorable little noises you would've made, ringing in his ears.

he been gawking at his phone screen for a while, saying nothing, so you pry, "i look fine, right, rin? c'mon, please don't tell me i look weird! i thought these pictures were cute, so i don't know why he didn't like them.." you whine with a frustrated pout. you really don't understand men, thus you were hoping suna would be of some assistance, but he wasn't even saying anything or providing useful insight. just gaping at his screen.

"uh, they look.." he started, voice trailing off as his eyes were still glued to your perky ass clad in nothing but a thong, and his mind began to run wild with fantasies, "uhm.."

you interpretted his lust-fuelled daze as disinterest, and sighed. "really? they're that bad. what's wrong with 'em? i don't get it.. oh! is it because i'm leaving to much to the imagination? are they not overt enough?" you bite your lip as you antsily scroll through your secure folders and forward him some additional pictures, "look, i have dirtier ones. whatdya think? are these ones better?"

as promised, the new images you sent him were dirtier. filthy, in fact.

now you were wearing absolutely nothing. suna choked on his own spit at the sight of you stood bare in front of your bathroom mirror, posing suggestively for the camera. your whole pussy was exposed and so were your erect nipples, that he had previously only seen when they were teasing him by straining against the fabric of your tank tops.

he knew you were attractive but it was shocking to realise that is the body you've been hiding this whole time. had he knew that earlier, he would've ripped your clothes off a lot sooner.

in some of them your hair was wet and the bathroom mirror was steamy, as though you had just gotten out of the shower. for the most part he's been hyper-focussed on your seductive body, however, he's suddenly beginning to notice things in the background. like the pattern of the bathroom tiles.. and the shape of the mirror.. and the colour of the countertops.. shit, were some of these taken in his bathroom?

there was no denying it. the reality came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks and knocked the wind right out of him. at some point, he was chilling in his room, probably playing video games or texting his friends without a care in the world, patiently waiting for his turn to shower, while you were in the adjoining bathroom, posing for nude selfies and showing off your slutty tits for the camera. in his mirror.

fuck, if only he knew. now he feels like an idiot. the things he would've done to that hot body in the shower, his dick aches just thinking about it. he'd need to finish in you so many times, until his cum was drooling out of you and he'd only stop once the water ran cold.

there were shots with your legs spread too. on halloween again, your skirt was hiked up and your panties were pulled to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. he'd do anything to lock his mouth to those puffy folds of yours. taste that sticky, juicy cunt. even without flash, your pussy was visibly soaked with your arousal. it coated your lips and stuck to your inner thighs.

and the sight of your tantalising hole was enough to make him light-headed. so puckered and cute for the camera. and it was about the tightest little thing he's ever seen. from the way your own juices soak your pretty pussy, he could tell you were undoubtly needy that halloween night. he hates himself for not burying his cock into that snug hole and stretching you out. pounding his fat dick into over and over, and making you take it. or his tongue, then he wouldn't stop until you squirt in his mouth, and he'd keep going for several rounds until you—

"hellooo? earth to rinny. anybody there?" you wave your hand in between his dry eyes and the phone, which momentarily rips him out of his horny trance.

"huh?" he groans, confused as to what you are disturbing him for, when he was so close drinking up your first orgasm (in his imagination.)

"do you think i should've sent the dirtier pics?" you pondered aloud, waiting for suna's much-needed input, "maybe he blocked me because he thought i was a prude, or something like that."

"you're definitely not a prude." suna utters his first coherent (and sfw) thought in the last ten minutes. "why.. did you send me these?"

"so i can get your opinion, dummy!" you roll your eyes, prodding at his shoulder, "that's what i've been syaing this whole time. it's not like i'm showing you my nudes for fun."

"right.." his brows twitch, trying his best not to even glance down at his phone screen, as he knows he'll be distracted again, "i think you look fine."

"fine?!—"

"—great! you look great." suna swiftly corrects himself, then continues, "why do you care that some guy blocked you? he was probably just an asshole."

"what if he blocked me because he thinks i'm hideous?" you whine.

"you're not." he states plainly. "but if you're that worried about it, i could help you take some better photos."

"really?"

"yeah." he slowly stands up from the bed, weary as to conceal his throbbing erection as he moves, "what're friends for?"

you smile gently up at him, and without further question, you begin to remove your clothes. in truth, you are a bit hesitant because you've never purposefully stripped for him before — yeah, sometimes you guys would change in front of each other, but that was never as intimate as this. however, you persevered because you felt as though during your embarrassing moment, you reached a new level of friendship and camaraderie with suna. one in which you could be more vulnerable with each other.

first to come off was your jumper, then your shorts, and next thing you knew, you were laying completely nude out in front of suna. he loomed over you, grasping onto his phone camera for dear life. his eyes were zeroed in on your tits, but you tried your best to ignore that and giggled, "how should i pose first?"

rintaro forced himself to gulp down whatever hedonistic thoughts were brewing in his mind, for now. he didn't want to risk appearing too eager, even if your naked body in such close proximity to him almost caused knees to give out under him. he needs to act casual. "lay on your front."

you do as you are told, and you mewl slightly as his cold hands runs over the back of your thigh, massaging your silkly flesh. he kneeds the doughy meat of your ass with his palms, then promptly spreads your cheeks to expose your puckered asshole. you can almost hear his devilish grin as he snaps a photo and hums, "there we go. so tight for the camera. you wouldn't mind if i.." his muses, as his fingers idly dance over your rear, playfully poking your ass until they sneak down to prod at your hole.

then, without warning, he shoves two digits straight in, takes the pic then yanks them back out. your back arches instictively at the lewd intrusion, "ngh, rinny!" you squeal, scrunching your features, "just take normal ones.."

"this is the sort of stuff guys like, though." he reassures, stroking your perky ass, savouring the sensation of your supple skin under his hand. "action shots."

"hmm.." you considered his suggestion, bearing in mind that he's a horny fuck that probably just wanted to stick his fingers inside you, "maybe my old pics are a bit vanilla.." you admitted.

"yeah. they're hot but you could look a lot hotter." he said, blinkly slowly, "you know what guys like? squirting pics."

"...really?" you raised an eyebrow, peering over your shoulder so he could see your clearly dubious expression.

"mhm. most guys are super turned on by it. you could land any guy if you had a pic like that." he explains with an absurd amount of sincerity and confidence, despite the fact he pulled all of that out of his ass.

"and how would i get a photo like that?" you slowly roll over onto your back, so you're looking up at him while he's stood at the edge of the bed, holding your thigh in one hand and his phone in the other — with his camera pointed directly at you.

"i guess i'd have to tongue fuck you.." he says 'begrudgingly'.

"oh i'd never made you do that, rinny." you're onto his agenda, since he does a terrible job at hiding it. the massive tent in his pants was making it too obvious that he wanted to fuck you. but you like to tease him about it. "i could just use a vibrator, while you take the picture."

his face drops, "uh," he splutters, not anticipating pushback, "girls can't squirt.. with vibrators." he blinks. the lies were somehow becoming less and less believable, despite how they weren't very convincing to begin with.

"that's a shame." you bow your head in attempt to suppress a chortle at his ridicoulous claim. finally, you decide to give him what he wants, "would you please tongue fuck me, then, rinny?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"...sure."

#suna rintarō #suna smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu time skip #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#👾nsfw

1K notes · View notes

loonylupinblack3 · 11 months ago

Text

Shy

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content

Summary: you have a crush on a certain co-worker but are too shy to tell him. so someone does it for you.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: THIS WAS A REQUEST BUT WHEN I TRIED TO REPLY TO IT IT DIDNT LET ME AND DELETED IT INSTEAD (also jean is a meddling little shit in this and u just gotta accept that)

You watched him from across the hall greedily, eyes drinking in his panting form, the sweat coating his chest and back, the strained muscles underneath his wife beater tank top. Logan was a sight for sore eyes on a normal day, but when he was working out? He had you practically rabid for him.

You were sitting on one of the benches, a forgotten book in your hand you hadn’t glanced at in ages, preferring to treat yourself to the image of Logan Howlett hot and sweaty while working out. There were a few other X-men exercising alongside him, and others on the bench with you hanging out so you weren’t too out of place, but everyone could see the way you looked at Logan.

Everyone but Logan himself.

You’d joined the team a few months ago- 5 to be exact- after whispers had gotten to you of a safe space for mutants. Having hidden your true genetic code from everyone else in your life, you jumped at the chance of not having to hide anymore. With your unique skill set too- the ability to formulate and present illusions- you were an exceptional addition to both the X-men and the teaching staff.

You thrived at the X mansion. The kids loved you, you got along well with your fellow teammates, and you had suggested and helped act on several improvements to both the school and the team. You were a good addition, and the other mutants were grateful to have you there.

You’d just had one problem when acclimating to the school. Your teeny, tiny, incredibly small crush on your fellow professor, Logan Howlett. At first you really had thought it would be no big deal. Just a co-worker you had noticed was slightly attractive. That’s all. Other mutants had told you he was hard to talk to, and had a gruff, moody personality, so you’d thought the attraction would soon fade.

Unfortunately it had only grown. The first time you’d realised, shit, this might actually be a problem, was when you’d gone to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and found Logan leaning against the kitchen counter, shirtless, with a beer in hand.

You’d been so flustered, eyes continuously betraying you and straying to his chest that you’d blurted out the first thing that came to your head, “how’d you get beer in here?”

Logan had chuckled, observing you as he brought the beer bottle to his mouth for a sip. “Why? Want some Sweetheart?”

You’d felt heat rise to your face at the nickname, shaking your head. “No, I was just curious.”

Logan stared at you a second longer, eyes trailing your figure appreciatively before shrugging. “Your loss. And unfortunately I can't tell you how I got it. Gotta keep it a secret lest Xavier finds out.”

You were too flustered to argue so you’d just nodded, mumbled a quick goodbye, and quickly walked back to your bedroom. You hadn’t even gotten your glass of water.

There had been other similar instances over the past few months. Logan just had a way to get under your skin, to cause your heart to go into cardiac arrest every time he looked at you, which made it hard to conceal your ever growing crush on him from literally everyone. Even your students knew about it, or at least had their suspicions, and you prayed they were too intimidated by Logan to ask him any questions about it. The last thing you needed was to get humiliated and have to pack up all your things and leave the home you had just created for yourself because you could no longer look any of your co-workers or students in the eyes again.

Especially Logan.

Things had escalated until you could barely look Logan in the eye anymore, and actively avoided him at all costs. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself in front of him, and though it was unpleasant you’d decided the best course of action was just to steer clear of him altogether.

Still, you allowed yourself some enjoyment, like watching Logan workout from afar while in a room full of people. The onlookers weren’t the best, but it was better than being alone with him when who knows what would happen.

“Like what you see?”

Storm’s voice dragged you out of your ogling, and you turned to her with a sheepish expression. “Maybe.”

She gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows. You ignored it, because you’d heard her suggestions many times before and found they didn’t align with your own interests.

“Go and tell him how you feel.”

And embarrass yourself when he inevitably rejects you? No thanks. You were more comfortable with keeping your feelings suppressed, continuously shoving them down, building a brick wall between them and you, to permanently keep them out. Yet for every single brick you added somewhere below you could feel three more being punched out, slowly destroying your barricades bit by bit.

Your eyes strayed back to Logan, like they always did, yet surprise striked you when you couldn’t find him. Your eyes scanned the room like a man on a mission, only to realise too late Logan was heading towards you, a towel in his sweaty grip.

He greeted Storm with a nod before his gaze zeroed in on you, and you mentally added another brick to your shield, determined to keep him out this time.

“Y/n,” he greeted, eyes never straying from your face.

You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. “Logan,” and, because you were incredibly weak willed- “did you have a good workout?”

You swear as you looked back up at him you saw the remnants of a smile on his face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye so you couldn’t be completely sure. You don’t think Logan had ever smiled at you, and you felt the bricks within you start to wobble.

“It was alright,” he said curtly, ever the man of few words. He lingered though, as if debating to say something, when it came out anyway. “I’d like it if you joined us next time.”

You felt your heartbeat increase. You felt the jump and the rapid incline as you processed what he said, your mind swimming.

“Me? But I just do illusions… I don’t have a fight worthy mutation.”

“Which is exactly why you should workout. Build your strength so you don’t need to rely on others and can trust your own body to do the job, regardless of mutations.”

It was the most you think Logan had ever spoken to you all at once, and you were suddenly feeling very dizzy. Logan wanted you to workout with him, to spend time with him. Could you imagine? Standing alongside him while he panted. Sparring and ending up underneath him, his entire body weight crushing you between him. It was almost too much to think about.

You cleared your throat, trying to clear your mind of unhelpful distractions, and found your eyes glued to Logan as he brought the towel to wipe the sweat from his throat, his muscles straining right in front you as he reached behind the back of his neck, wiping the sheen of sweat from his body.

You were staring, you knew that, but you just couldn’t find it in you to look away. It was a godly sight, Logan in front of you, sweaty and staring right at you. How were you supposed to look away?

“Uhm,” you mumbled when Storm stepped on your foot. If she’d noticed your ogling Logan certainly must have, and you felt heat rise to your face at the thought. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Logan looked at you again, really looked at you, before nodding, slinging the towel over a shoulder. “I hope to see you there.”

And with that he walked away, and you felt the bricks tumbling, clattering away inside you, and you could do nothing to stop it until you felt bare and vulnerable, watching the man walk away with the realisation this might be more than just a silly crush.

You couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let yourself go too far, even though you could already feel yourself falling. You needed stronger defences, more barricades and walls. And if that meant more space between you and Logan, more avoiding and distance, well, you’d do it. You couldn’ let yourself go past the point of no return with him. You couldn’t.

Your avoidance of Logan had continued ten-fold. Whenever he entered a room you would exit. You would no longer spend time watching him workout or teach or do anything, really. You stayed as isolated from him as possible, and when you couldn’t you stayed silent, eyes fixed ahead of you rather than on him.

Others had noticed. You heard the rumours, whispers of a fight, a break up that occurred between the two of you. It was laughable, the idea that you and Logan had ever been together in the first place.

It was working though, or so you thought. You could feel your shields and barricades strengthening each day, and you continued to build them higher and higher, in the hopes you would eventually not need to avoid Logan, for he would no longer have any effect on you.

Until then you were determined to avoid Logan and spend as little time with him as possible. Unfortunately Logan did not share that sentiment.

You’d just finished up a class, instructing your students to have their homework prepared for next lesson and watched them all file out the door when Logan entered. It was so unexpected you hadn’t a chance to leave before he was upon you, his figure towering over your frame. His arms were crossed and he watched you with a frown on his face, yet you weren’t afraid of it anymore. Sure, you had been originally, but soon you’d discovered behind the frown was usually no ill intent, so you weren’t nervous.

Well you were, extremely so, but not about that.

“Oh, Logan,” you managed, swallowing thickly. “What are you doing here?”

Logan crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”

You winced. “We do?”

He let out an aggravated huff. “LIsten, I don’t know what I did to make you so pissed at me but it can’t be this bad-”

You interrupted him, confused. “Wait, what?”

He sent you a look. “You. Being mad at me. I don’t know why.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Logan paused, looking at you with a scrutinising gaze. “Yes you are.”

You scoffed at him wrongly telling you how you felt. “No, I’m not.”

“So why are you ignoring me? And don’t say you haven't-” Logan said, noticing you’d opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I know you are. You have been avoiding me for weeks, and if you’re not angry at me I can see no other fathomable reason for why you’re acting like I have the plague.”

I frowned. “You noticed that?”

Logan scoffed. “Of course I noticed it. You don’t even come to training anymore, not even to watch like you used to. Why?”

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You obviously couldn’t tell him the real reason, otherwise all the hard work you’d done would be for nothing because you’d end up humiliated and rejected anyway, but you knew Logan could tell when someone was lying from their pulse spiking, and yours certainly would if you lied about this.

You grappled for something to say, anything, to shake him off your trail. “I have to prepare for another class-”

“You’re not preparing for shit until you tell me what’s wrong,” Logan practically growled. “I can stay here all day Bub.”

Well shit. You didn’t really have another choice. You were going to have to tell him about your feelings for him. Literally anything else would have been better. Anything else.

At that exact moment Jean walked into your classroom and relief bloomed in your chest. You were saved, you were safe. You could use Jean as an excuse and-

“She was avoiding you because she has the hots for you, Logan. Something every single person in this school knows except you.”

Well, not anything else apparently.

Logan let out a noise of surprise and looked at you, but your eyes were glued to Jean, horror and betrayal painted on your face. She mouthed ‘your welcome’ and left. What the fuck? Was that the only reason she entered, to butt into your private conversation?

“Y/n. Was what Jean said true?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it, looking like something akin to a gaping fish. “Define truth.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at you, not at all amused, and his silence forced you to continue.

You sighed, preparing yourself for the inevitable heartbreak to come. “Yes, it’s true, alright, but I never intended to act on it and I won’t act on it so you’re fine-”

“Who said I didn’t want you to act on it?”

You started. “W-what?”

Logan took another step until your chest was suddenly pressed against his. “Did I stutter?”

You felt like you were going to stutter if you said anything, so you sort of just… stood there. Waiting. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. Some clarity maybe?

Certainly not Logan grabbing you by the waist and kissing you, so firm and confident you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace. His hands were grabbing your waist, finding the dips in your curves and squeezing there, grabbing them and tugging you towards him.

His lips dragged across yours, adding an air of desperation to the kiss. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his bearded jaw as he kissed you deeper, seeming for all the world like he was never going to stop. You were powerless to stop it, and you found you didn’t even want to. Your walls were crumbling and you gladly let them if it meant you could continue kissing this man.

Logan hefted you up onto your desk and you let out a gasp, muffled by Logan’s lips. He smiled into the kiss anyway, amused by your surprise, and placed his hands on your knees to part them so he could get between your legs.

You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, something he liked if the pleased grunt from his throat was anything to go by. His kissing became more fevoured, like he wanted to devour you, and you gladly let yourself drown in him.

That was until the school bell rang, startling you both out of the kiss. Or rather, just you, because Logan seemed content to move to your neck when your lips stopped responding.

“Logan,” you murmured. “I have a class to teach.”

Logan made an angry grunt and continued placing open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. You laughed and gently pushed him away, causing the man to growl and look at you with such irritation you’d think you interrupted his wedding or something.

“I’m busy here,” Logan said.

You had to physically swallow the breathless sigh threatening to escape your lips, instead saying, “we can continue this later.”

“We will continue this later.”

You smiled, almost shyly, which was ironic considering he was still between your legs. “Yeah?”

Logan moved forward so he could whisper into your ear. “Now that I have you Bub, I ain’t ever letting go.”

He pulled back and your smile widened, making a mental note to thank Jean when you next saw her. “I can live with that.”

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett #x men #x men fanfiction #x men x reader #x reader #james howlett #james howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #jean grey

6K notes · View notes

paulyenvol6 · 3 days ago

Text

One Good Reason

Based on this lovely request! I'm sorry it took me so long and I'm sorry in advance because the next two requests might take me a while too, but I'm on vacation in London right now and don't find so much time to write. Anyways, enjoy :)

Contains: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (m receiving), deepthroat, edging, fingering, orgasm denial, creampie, punshiment, dirty talk, dumbification, clueless and subby reader, jealousy, possessiveness, degradation, crying, dom!Joel, nicknames like slut, little aftercare, gagging

Wordcount: 5,365

Masterlist

Joel's jaw was tense. Too tense.

"Sit," he said, his tone commanding and cold, making you shudder. With big eyes you sat down on the couch and god these eyes were driving Joel insane.

"Joel. You said we – "

"Quiet," he hushed you and now you were officially confused.

"Joel," you tried again, your voice much more quiet and careful, but your thoughts loudly racing in your head.

Was he angry with you? Had you upset him?

"I said. Quiet."

With pouty and slightly trembling lips, you watched him, your palms resting on the couch to your left and right and your legs dangling off the edge. You found that you had no choice, but to wait for him to tell you what was going on, so you patiently watched him, but couldn't hide the light fear your face was drawn with.

Joel briefly clenched his hands into fists, rubbing over his palms before slightly spreading his legs and eyeing the way you played with your hair – looking all innocent and sweet although you were a naughty thing. A naughty thing who couldn't stop herself from getting into trouble all the time.

"A-Are you mad at me, Joel?" you eventually asked, thoughtfully furrowing your brow and chewing on your bottom lip.

"Jesus…," he groaned, closing his eyes only to straighten up and massage his temple.

"Can't get that dumb 'lil brain of yours to think for a second?"

"I – I don't know what you mean. Are you – is it 'cause I forgot the limes when I went grocery shopping? Because I already apologised and I thought – "

Joel raised his hand, glaring at you with piercing eyes, which was enough for you to shut up.

"No. You seriously have no idea? You got no fuckin' clue why I could be angry with you?"

Your eyes rounded up even more if that was possible, your lips so pouty and soft as you bit down on the inside of your cheeks.

"No… I don't think so," you stammered, helplessly searching his face as though the answer could be found in his small eyes.

"Oh you stupid 'lil thing… You can be fuckin' glad you got me 'cause I don't know how you would make it without me. Now get the fuck over 'ere."

You hesitated. Not because you didn't want to approach him or you were avoiding physical closeness, but because your brain was working so hard, your head began to throb. Images from the past days appeared before your eyes, the town meeting on Saturday, your dinner on Sunday, the game night with Maria and Tommy on Monday and the breakfast at Joey's diner as well as the stroll through the park today. You couldn't find anything suspicious and seriously wondered whether Joel was making fun of you right now. But his eyes seemed sincere, his eyes still narrowed and hard when you approached him and awkwardly stood in front of him, waiting for further instructions.

"Kneel," he barked, and you shivered. Okay, so this was definitely not him making fun of you.

"Joel, I really don't – "

He interrupted you, grabbing your hand and pulling you down on the ground himself, causing you to gasp as your knees hit the carpet.

"I recall tellin' you to shut up. You don't want this to become worse that it already is."

You were alarmed now, tears swimming in your eyes, but based on the things Joel had said so far, he wasn't in the kind of mood to let you wrap him around your little finger with a few tears and sweet words so you swallowed them. Instead, you placed your hands on your thighs, doe-eyedly glancing up to him and trying to keep as still as possible as Joel parted his legs wider to make room for you to settle in between.

"You really don't know… God, aren't you a dumb 'lil thing… If only you weren't so sweet while being all empty-headed. Useless fuckin' slut."

You swallowed hard, moving closer to his center while being so unaware of what your tiny gestures were doing to him. His throat was dry, his dick pressing up hard against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to bend you over the counter, rip your panties and fuck you dumb. As if you weren't already.

"I don't know," you repeated, staring into space through hazy eyes. "I really don't, Joel."

"You said that already," he pressed through gritted teeth, unbuckling his belt and slowly shoving down his jeans and boxers just a little bit to take out his erect dick.

"But maybe you'll remember when you really have to. Why don't we try, babygirl? Why don't we try 'n' give your mouth somethin' to work on an' maybe it'll be enough for you pretty, dumb head to figure it out. Maybe you're just a little too calm right now. Or maybe you don't really want to make an effort."

You lifted your chin at once, almost indignantly furrowing your brow and pinching your eyebrows together.

"No. I did try. Please, Joel, just tell me. I really don't know and I – I don't know what to do to remember."

He hushed you, cupping your chin for a second or two and then taking a fistful of your hair.

"Yeah… But maybe you do in a second. Maybe you just need somethin' to remind you. Open your mouth."

You obeyed immediately, dropping your jaw and only just inhaling deeply before Joel fed you his dick, slowly sliding past your lips until he arrived in the warmth of your mouth, humming to himself in pleasure, but collecting himself quickly.

"You know what we're gonna do, little one? I'll shove that dick down your throat until I'm aaaaall the way in inside you. Then we're gonna keep it there for a moment to give you time to think and really work that brain of yours. And when I think you're ready, I'll pull out and you're gonna talk. You're gonna tell me what you did wrong and what you're gonna do different next time. And then we're gonna think about what you can do to make it up to me and please me. If you don't talk – Well, we're gonna do it over and over again until you do. Until you tell me exactly why you angered me. I mean, I want to know that you put in an effort and try to be a good girl. Not knowing why you're gettin' punished is not a good start, pumpkin."

Joel hesitated, sighing as he watched you with his head tilted. He could literally see the words fighting through your clouded mind one by one, a muscle around your eyes twitching when the content of his words really crept up on you. And god did you look pretty with your mouth full with his dick. You couldn't reply anyway, so a nod of your head was what he had to settle with, your eyes round as coins and your cheeks already flush.

Thus far, Joel had been halfway inside you, but once he had the confirmation that you had understood the rules, he jerked forward with his hips, driving his dick into your mouth until he was inside of you to the hilt. You almost instantly retched, spit leaking from the corner of your mouth and your head flinching away.

"Shhh…," Joel made, keeping his grip around your head steady to keep you from pulling away and potentially making everything worse for you. Because it was the first round, Joel relatively spared you, staying inside your throat for merely 10 seconds and then dragging himself out of your welcoming mouth.

"And?" he fizzled once his tip was brushing over your plump lips, his insides clenching at the wetness glistening on your chin, which suggested that he had fucked your face for half an hour rather than half a minute.

"I don't know," you whimpered, tangling your fingers and pleadingly staring up to him.

If only you knew what you were doing to him, Joel thought with a wry grin, trailing along your jaw line and pursing his lips at the way your eyes brightened up. But of course this wasn't to his satisfactory, which was why Joel slammed his dick back into your paradisiacal heat without even commenting your words. This time he made you suffer longer, keeping his balls pressed to your face for almost 30 seconds while giving you almost no space at all to adjust to his length stuffing your throat. His tip tingled at the back of your throat and simultaneously caused you to gag, your view blurry as your face was forced to be in this unnatural position.

When he finally released you, he rapidly slipped out of your mouth with a plop sound, a thread of spit hanging between your upper lip and his shaft. You inhaled greedily, almost choking on the fresh wave of air you forced down on your throat, but could get a grip on yourself in the last minute. Although Joel had let go of you, he instantly cradled your head again once you had caught your breath with the purpose of maintaining control and dominance over the situation and show you your place.

"I'm listenin'," he barked and blared his teeth. Your wrinkled nose almost made him melt on the spot, his heart fluttering as you thoughtfully averted your gaze and carefully shook it.

"I'm sorry. I don't – Please, just – "

You were caught off once more and could only yelp as Joel forced his shaft down your throat again.

"That's disappointing, babygirl… I honestly thought you'd do better. You wanna keep goin' like this now? Until your throat's fuckin' red and bruised? Or you're gonna put this brain to work now and really make an effort?"

You were unable to answer, hot tears coating your view and his dick muffling any noises or complains threatening to spill out of your mouth. You were trying so hard, reliving every moment from the past days, but you couldn't find anything unusual. It couldn't be too long ago, right? He wouldn't punish you now for something that had been more than a week ago, right? Joel had been much too nice for that and if you had really done something to seriously upset him a longer time ago, he wouldn't have waited until now to make you feel the consequences. You were sure he wouldn't even have been able to hide his anger.

Your hands grasped his thighs, nails scraping his skin as if it was a way to release the pain, but you only halfly succeeded. It simply was too much, his dick so deep inside your mouth that it seemed like all you felt was him. That all you could think about, perceive, smell and taste was him and his indistinct scent. This time Joel kept you flush against his center for almost a minute, but to you it felt like ten times the amount of time. You could breathe through your nose, your nostrils flared to force more air down your lungs, but you had to cough every few seconds and felt your stomach thrum with the need to throw up. When he pulled back, you blinked, teary eyes fluttering and your lips swollen from the assault. Joel didn't even have to ask you. He just lifted an eyebrow, cupping your chin and tightening his hand at your attempt to escape him.

"You ain't done here yet, babygirl. You're goin' right back to work unless you have something to say."

He lightly squeezed your cheeks. "Do you?"

"P-Please," you whined, simply ignoring the mess of a combination of liquids that made your cheeks sticky and glitty and only seemed to increase as time passed.

"I don't know. Please, tell me, Joel, I'm sorry. I tried, I tried to remember b-but I – I don't. I just wanna be good for you a-and I love you and I don't wanna make you mad."

Joel had to supress a genuine smile. Not because he was anywhere close to being done with you, but because you sincerely were the most stunning, adorable and sweet creature he had ever seen. The big deer eyes, the way you couldn't keep them open at times, the trembling bottom lip you tried to get under control by biting down on it, the strands of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You were a mess, but a beautiful, pretty mess that Joel couldn't get enough of. That made a part of him want to lift you in the air, push you up against his chest and hold you until your crying had stopped. Just run a hand up and down your back and get lost in your sweet, adorable nature. But of course he wouldn't because you had something to apologise for and as long as he didn't hear those words out of your mouth he wouldn't stop.

That was why he shook his head in disapproval, tracing your jawline and then pulling at your lower lip to make it snap back.

"It's too late for that, hon. Open your mouth."

You sniffed and gulped in order to fight the soreness in your throat, but once his tip went past your lips you immediately felt the same stinging ache in the back of your throat again.

"Shhh…," he purred, gripping your hair tightly and tugging when you squirmed too hard.

"Take it. Take it or tell me what I wanna hear."

Tears were clouding your view, making your eyes feel swollen and puffy. Your whole body was on fire, arousal pooling between your legs just like sweat was covering your thighs and back. It was a strange and odd mixture of discomfort that was borderning on pain from time to time and sheer and intense pleasure. Please that made you want to be good for him so badly, so he would finally make love to you in a way you knew you didn't deserve right now. If only you knew why.

You gulped and retched, grabbing his legs to ground yourself and Joel didn't seem to have a problem with it as of now.

"C'mon…," he growled, head thrown back and lips red from the way he chewed on them.

"10 more seconds."

You didn't know how, but you managed to push through it. By the time Joel withdrew, you felt the need to cough and fortunately he let go of you for a moment so you could turn away from him, clear your throat and wipe over your eyes with the back of your hand.

"C'mere," he snarled after a minute, taking hold of a fistful of your hair and pushing your head against his inner thigh.

"Nothin'?" he simply whispered, raising his eyebrows and giving you this look of disgust and pity and somehow it was hurting more than anything he had done before.

"Alright. Gonna try somethin' different," Joel suddenly sighed. Your eyes shot up, widening in hope as he twisted his lips and rose to his feet while still keeping your head still by your hair.

"Get up. An' then take your clothes off and sit down on the couch."

These were rather promising prospects, so you weren't hesistant when you quickly stumbled to your feet, legs wobbly and weak under your weight and your sore knees hurting at the new posture. You cursed your slightly shivering hands as you pulled down your shorts, your clumsy fingers struggling with the zipper, but after you had tossed your clothes on a chair you felt the most confident and strong you had tonight. You sat down with a bubbling coiling heat in your stomach, thighs pressing together and your palms hurting from the way you buried your nails into your skin.

"Sit against the armrest. Legs spread," were his next instructions and just as you had obeyed him, getting comfortable on your bare ass, Joel appeared before your eyes. You desperately searched his face for any sign that he had softened up, that his punishment might perhaps even be over now, but there was nothing. His jaw was flexed, a vein prominent on his neck and a crease between his eyebrows.

"I swear, Joel, I really don't know what I did wrong," you assured him once again, blinking to prevent yourself from crying.

"Shut up. You're not enhancing your chances by talkin' all the fuckin' time. Givin' me those sweet doll eyes is your best shot, babygirl. So look at me. C'mon."

You wrinkled your nose which elicited a heavy exhalation from him and then gasped as Joel took hold of your ankles, adjusting your sprawled out body on the couch. Then he climbed on top of you, settling between your legs and letting his eyes wander from your legs up to your face until his gaze lingered on your bare pussy. You shouldn't feel embarrassed considering that Joel had seen you naked a million times already, but under these circumstances, you feeling so vulnerable in comparison to his dominant and intimidating appearance, you couldn't help but blush under his flashing pupils.

"Pretty," he whispered, vaguely cupping your pussy, but his words had taken you out so much, that you merely noticed it.

"Too pretty for such a dumb thing. Too sweet 'n' adorable for such a stupid 'lil head. What am I gonna do with you, huh?"

Joel didn't look like he was expecting an answer, which was why you simply kept eye contact although your eyes were watering again, pursing your lips and audibly swallowing.

"I feel like I should tie ya to the bed, stuff you with a toy 'n' then leave you there until you've learned your lesson. Or until you work that pretty brain and remember what you done wrong." He leaned in so his breath was brushing over your temple.

"But call me weak or – or frail, but I won't be able to leave this fuckin' pussy alone."

You whined out as he began rocking his palm against your clit, the corner of his mouth twitching at your facial reactions.

"Yeah. Gimme those sweet eyes. Show me how sweet you can be for me."

Joel gently parted your legs wider, lowly growling as your breathing became heavier. Two fingertips prodded your hole, circling it at a pace that you would consider cruel and sliding his palm back and forth. In less than a minute the two fingers made their way inside your cunt, slowly and carefully as if Joel was scared to hurt you, entering you.

"Joel," you whimpered, close to tears again, although you couldn't quite grasp the source of it. "I'm sorry, I – I wanna be good. I just… I just don't know what…"

He hushed you with a single finger pressing down on your upper lip and then applied more pressure on your throbbing clit.

"I said shut up. Or do you wanna make me angrier? You're not in a good position here right now if you haven't notice already. You made me mad, couldn't remember why and didn't even figure it out while I punished you. I coulda made you suck my dick all night, but I didn't 'cause I had pity with you and now there's one fuckin' thing I expect from you, you dirty slut. And you can't even do that."

A sob went through your body, your hands clenching and your brows pinching as the effects of his words took over. You just wanted to cry. You had disappointed him so badly and felt so helpless here, your head throbbing from the way you so strenuously concentrated on the events of the past days, but no matter how hard you tried, there was no progress. No idea, no suspicion and although part of you definitely couldn't think straight from the way Joel rubbed his hand against your core, you still couldn't believe that Joel was so angry while you had no hunch at all.

A little later, you wouldn't have been able to say if it was 5 minutes or 50 minutes, the first signs of an orgasm approached you, drops of sweat rolling down the inside of your thighs a warm, stouthearted pressure pulsing in your lower belly. By now his two digits were buried inside of you to the hilt, curled and determined as they repeatedly hit the soft, spongy spot hidden deep inside you. It felt so good, you wanted to scream and shout for him to go harder and stop him at the same time because something about his mood made you fear what was going to happen. He still seemed much too angry to just drop the whole thing so he surely wouldn't just let you cum like this and then send you to bed…?

Your suspicion was soon to be confirmed. A slight clench of your pussy and the way your eyes squeezed shut were all it took for Joel to stop. His hand was still resting on your center, but it didn't move any longer and his reaction to the rolling of your hips to create the much needed friction was a firm hand holding you down.

"Joel, please. Please, don't. I just – " He slightly withdrew, your hips frustratingly grinding against nothing.

"Say what you did wrong, babygirl," he whispered, sounding almost… amused? At least there was a light tinkle in his tone while he darted down at you, thoughtfully curling his lips.

"I can't, Joel, you know that I can't. I'm sorry. Please."

"And I don't think you've tried hard enough."

What were you supposed to do?

You believed that you couldn't go any further, that there was nothing left for you to try to satisfy him. He was so determined in his actions, so convinced of the fact that all he had to do for you to speak the truth was push you further, but what if you couldn't? What if Joel would never be satisfied and be mad about you forever? Okay, that might be an exaggeration, you had to admit, yet new tears welled in your eyes at the mere thought of it.

Before you could finish the thought, Joel continued rocking his palm against your clit, your legs involuntarily pressing together and your pussy eagerly throbbing for the return of his fingers.

"S'a bit disappoin', isn't it? I knew you tend to get all cock-drunk on me whenever I just take a look at that pussy but this really is a new level, hon. An' your sweet eyes and that pout don't change anythin', baby. They might be nice for me to look at, but don't think for a second that they're gonna help you get out of your punishment."

In a record breakingly short amount of time, you were dangling dangerously close to the edge of a orgasm you were yearning for so badly again. Joel's two fingers were penetrating you, his lips occasionally leaning in to kiss you on your cheek or neck and his palm rough and fast as it stimulated your clit. You were a trembling mess underneath him, sweat sticky on top of your thighs and your nipples stiff.

"Please," you soon whispered, equally scared that Joel was going to stop and that he would be mad if you didn't tell him that you were close.

"What. Give me one good reason why you deserve to cum."

Suddenly something shifted in his face. His eyes were briefly flashing, pervaded by a dark glimmering light and his jaw was clenched, his mouth nothing more than a thin line. Before you were able to reply, you were suddenly flipped onto your stomach, your hands reaching for the armrest to hold on to something as Joel parted your ass cheeks.

"Maybe this'll work on you… Maybe you just need a dick to destroy that 'lil cunt o'yours in order for you to remember how to use that mouth to talk."

Your fingers grasped a pillow, squeezing tightly as you prepared yourself for the slight inevitable stretch, but when he slid in, there was no trace of discomfort. Joel was thick and he certainly didn't go slow, but you were so drenched that there was no restriction at all.

"Next time it'll be your fuckin' ass. I'll fuck that tight hole of yours and maybe through your cryin' you'll tell me your apologies in a way that's gonna make me content. And now you're 'lil cunt better squeeze me tightly or I'll have to put my attention elsewhere. And there's no fuckin' way you'll cum tonight, so you better not even try. I don't care about your sweet whines 'n' pleas. I'm fuckin' serious."

He grunted and bottomed out, filling you to the hilt and starting to pound you at a steady pace. He wasn't even able to hide his fury in the way he was fucking you, his balls slapping against your cunt and producing obscene smacking noises and his tip hitting your cervix whereas he usually was so careful with not going too deep and possible hurting you.

"J-Joel," you whimpered, reaching behind you not because he was seriously causing you pain, but because you craved his presence so much. You just wanted him to hold your hand and brush over your knuckles and the fact that you wouldn't be getting it until you remembered this damn thing you had done wrong made you want to cry out.

"Shut up. M'gonna cum inside of you now 'cause I don't know what else to do with ya so you stop actin' like a dumb 'lil puppy an' then we'll go to bed and you rest that head of yours. Now look at me and keep those eyes open. I know you can be such a pretty puppy for me if you try hard enough. So get over it 'n' at least try to be good."

Joel spanked your butt once, his nostrils wide and his breath hitching as you looked over your shoulder and initiated eye contact.

"I wanna be good," you whispered, gasping at his forceful thrusts.

"Yeah you do?" he asked and grabbed a thick strand of your hair.

"Show me then. You're gonna keep still 'n' stop complainin' and lemme fill that pussy 'til my cum runs down your thighs. C'mon, babygirl. Lemme feel how bad she needs me," he growled and groaned as he stopped inside of you for a moment, pushing you up the couch and changing the angle so he could go as deep as possible.

"I'm gonna cum, Joel. Please. I really need to," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes close and praying for him to be mercyful. You had suffered for long enough and if only Joel saw it the same way…

"No. You're not gonna cum. You messed that up earlier in the fuckin' park and then you did it over and over again. Not bein' able to tell me what you did wrong, cryin' and moanin' 'cause you didn't get what you wanted but you didn't make an effort either."

Your thoughts were racing, your mind so absent that you even forgot about his punishing pace for a moment. The park…? Joel must have sensed the way it worked behind your forehead because he tightened his grip in your hair and pushed you into the cushion.

"Yeah, that's right. The fuckin' park… If you had used your brains for a second you wouldn't have talked to the guy like that."

"What guy?" it broke out of you, your eyebrows tense as you peeked over your shoulder.

"The guy that clearly wanted to fuck you. An' you acted like you didn't want anything more in your life."

Slowly the puzzle pieces assembled in your head and a picture started to form. Yet, once started, Joel didn't stop.

"The guy that fuckin' dropped his book just so you would bend over 'n' pick it up and he could get a good look at your ass. And you? You were playin' alone and gave him these stupid fuck-me eyes that only I am supposed to see. You behaved like you were just waitin' for him to rip your clothes off and it was goddamn disgusting babygirl."

You gulped and suddenly felt more than bad. Yes, it made so much sense now. How quiet Joel had been on the way back to the house and if you thought about it now, yes, the guy in the park had been very friendly. Too friendly, perhaps.

"Joel, I – " you started, but were interrupted soon.

"No. It wasn't that hard to come up with this, was it? An' you're tellin' me you couldn't think of this yourself?"

"I'm sorry. I really am, I didn't – I didn't think he was interested in me like that, I swear," you choked between his thrusts, your mouth struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"I thought he was just trying to be nice. He was. He was kind and – and I didn't question it."

"I know you didn't," Joel replied and rolled his hips a few times as he was inside of you, making you really feel him with every fibre of your body.

"That's why you're in this position right now. Arch your back," he added and pressed down on the small of your back.

"I'm gonna cum, babygirl. Deep inside of your pussy the way only I can. Not some guy in a park who probably has never seen a naked woman before. I'm the only one who gets to fuck this useless hole and fill you up with my cum. Understood?"

As quickly as possible, you nodded and stretched yourself toward him ever more.

"Yes, Joel. I only want you. No one else."

Apparently, this was all it took for Joel to release with a deep growl and despite not reaching your high yourself, you felt your view get cloudy at the feeling of his sticky, warm seed coating your walls.

"Oh jesus… Oh fuck, yeah, that's it… Oh fuck… Take it all, c'mon. Don't wanna see anythin' drippin' down your legs."

He pushed into you a few more times before gently stroking up the side of your body, briefly tracing the side of your breasts.

"Good girl. Good fuckin' girl, m'proud of you."

You almost flinched at his words, your eyes frantically dancing as you stared into space and wondered whether he was genuine. Your eventual response was a muffled and broken whine that made Joel sigh.

"Lemme take a look at ya," he whispered, his tone low and soft and slipped his flaccid dick out of you only to grab you by your hips and turn you on your back.

"S'okay, babygirl…," he purred, hushing you as you sniffled a couple of times and brought a finger to your lips.

"It's okay. You took your punishment well. An' I think you got my point, didn't you?"

"Yes. I did, I'm sorry. I understand why – why you had to do it."

Joel smiled in satisfaction, lazily caressing the skin of your hips and bicep and smirking at the way you were barely able to keep your eyes open.

"Think you need some rest now, hon. Sleep if you want to. And I will make you feel good in the mornin'. Everythin' will be alright… I'll take care of ya 'cause you were good and behaved and now you deserve to cum too. Just wait until the mornin', we both need some sleep, okay? Is that okay for my princess?"

Princess.

Your heart fluttered and clenched at the nickname, your eyes big as you pleadingly stared up to him.

"Yes. I'm really tired," you confirmed and then grinned as Joel rolled off you to lay right next to you on the couch.

"Then sleep. I'll be right there next to you and if it's gonna be uncomfortable later, I'll carry you to bed. Just relax, sweetheart."

You exhaled, your breathing becoming steadily louder and more audible as you drifted off to sleep.

A quiet 'I love you' was the last thing you perceived before you felt yourself slipping away, body and mind finally utterly at peace again.

522 notes · View notes

ikeuverse · 7 days ago

Text

detour plans | pjs

pairing: mafiaboss!jay x mobster's daughter fem!reader genres: angst, almost nothing fluff, smut wc: 9.2k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : swearing, description of not-so-explicit fights. mention of crimes, robberies. mention of blood, weapons. rivalry between mafias, kidnapping, bohr is yn's last name. mention of themes such as prostitution (but i'll try not to describe so much about it, but if i do, i'll put it in the warnings). lmk if i missed anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : jongseong wanted to avenge his father's death and his disrespect for the patriarch's bed, and the best plan he could think of was to take revenge and kidnap the daughter of his greatest rival. he just didn't realize that his plans would take a different path, one he had never thought of.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : joining my baby's request @hoonprksung. i wanted to make the story into a single part, but i can't. my mind flies away and i always end up writing more than i should, so... welcome to the first part (i can't call it a synopsis, can i?). i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 part 2 | masterlist ꒱

“So, did you do what I asked?” Jongseong’s voice echoed throughout the room, making the boys stop everything they were doing to pay attention to the man who had just arrived.

He commanded respect not only for his title as the boss of that mafia but also for the way he behaved in front of people. Jongseong was respected for his tone of voice, and for how he could deal with situations the same way his father did when he was alive. Maybe with a little less empathy since it was rare to see a small smile or even a second chance in the boy’s eyes.

“We did, boss” Heeseung replied in a sarcastic tone, raising one of his eyebrows as he wiped the only drop of sweat from his temple that was about to run down.

Jongseong let his rigid posture falter a little, rolling his eyes as he approached his best friend. Calling him boss was a way of bothering him even though he was Park's right-hand man in everything he did in that place, in the middle of that world he was introduced to without having the chance to choose whether he wanted to stay or not.

Heeseung welcomed him because that was how it was with him too. The Lee family was allied with the Park family, so growing up with Jongseong hadn't been a choice, but staying and making him practically a brother was the best choice he made in life even more so because Park decided to stay that he allowed Heeseung to be the only one there.

“Then I want you to report it, please” he said. “Or do you want me to bring Charlotte and Hunter here to threaten them into talking?” with the look of fear on his men's faces – even though Heeseung was the only one trying to hide it – Jongseong smiled.

The mention of the two Park mafia dogs was synonymous with respect and empowerment. Charlotte was a wolf-dog with a physical build that none of them had seen before. Defined muscles and very well-groomed caramel and white fur, while Hunter was a Doberman who, standing up, was almost as tall as Heeseung. Fast as a rocket and as brave as Jongseong. The owner's personality, anyone who knew him would answer.

“You can let your children rest, they worked hard today” Sunghoon sighed, a little more tired than usual. He sat in the chair in front of him and took a deep breath, running his hand through the sweaty strands as he pulled out the small notebook that was on the table in front of him.

Showing images from the security cameras for Chief Park to analyze every step of that day.

Jongseong approached with slow, careful steps until he leaned one of his hands next to Sunghoon, looking at the screen he had just opened.

The time indicated eleven in the morning, the estimated time he asked his men to move on that mission. A little too early for what they were all used to, but if it had been a little later, there might not have been enough time to do what he had in mind.

As the footage played, Jongseong managed to see the moment Heeseung entered that restaurant, wearing elegant clothes, but not as conspicuous as anyone could see. He sat down next to the table of that day's target, alternating his gaze between the seated figure and the cell phone in his hands.

The footage remained still for several seconds until the person stood up, and walked towards the bathroom. And it was at that moment that Jongseong's heart beat a little faster. He knew he knew that his best friend would not hesitate when he stood up and walked behind. Not long after, the footage was turned off without showing that he had reached his destination or done what had been proposed.

“Heeseung” Jongseong called. His eyes were still glazed over in the dark reflection of the computer screen, showing only him and Sunghoon at that moment. He saw the boy exchange a quick second of glances with him, before turning and facing the others present there “What happened after that?”

“Riki cut the camera feed so I wouldn’t get caught,” he leaned back on the table, taking a deep breath. “She was a pain, man.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe her dad trained her on how to react to a kidnapping,” it was Sunghoon’s turn to answer, closing the laptop screen and getting up from his chair. “Hee and I almost couldn’t get her to sleep and put her in the car.”

It was going to be difficult. Jongseong knew that when he decided he would have to kidnap the daughter of his biggest rival in the mafia world. He was aware of how much the plan, planned for two whole months, could go wrong if they didn’t do things meticulously.

“Were you followed?” he asked.

“No car, no sign” Sunghoon said once more. “We had Jake’s cover along with Keeho and we took a completely different route to get to the mansion. We weren’t followed.”

Great, he thought to himself. He was proud of how well he had trained his men, some even considering them his friends besides Heeseung, who was practically his brother. Even so, Jongseong was still a little apprehensive because things had changed at the last minute.

Kidnapping the daughter of a mafia boss would never be easy, especially for someone who had reasons to hate the Park family. He knew that revenge was not easy, but Jongseong did not want to let what his father had tried to do all his life go unpunished.

The patriarch wanted to kill Stephen Bohr, from the Bohr mafia family. He was the worst in that circle, denouncing his rivals, making them fall one by one as if they were not part of that scheme. If things didn't work out the way he wanted, boom. It was the end for that family that had gone head to head with him.

Jongseong felt his blood boil just remembering Bohr's disrespect and disloyalty. How he became his father's rival, just because he didn't want to be part of the worst schemes involving shady things. He felt like vomiting just remembering vague mentions of prostitution involving minors and even kidnappings of girls who were going to school and were never seen again.

That was the fetish of the most disgusting and grotesque man Jongseong had the displeasure of knowing. That's why he so easily became a rival of the Park family and many others, but because of his influence, no one dared to do anything, for fear of the empire falling and being denounced.

But Park didn't. He wanted to see Bohr crumble. He wanted that disgusting, disgusting and rude man to be hit in the worst possible way, for everything he had done that went beyond what Jongseong's family believed and followed.

It wasn't normal to be part of the mafia, it wasn't a clean job, but many things could be spared and he knew that Stephen didn't care about any of that. He just needed something that could hit him as hard as it had hit him when he heard that news, when he realized how much Bohr wanted to bring down his father for not accepting to invest millions in that disgusting scheme, almost costing his life twice.

“Where did you put her?” he asked after a very contemplative moment, analyzing everything that had happened until he reached the present moment.

“In the dark room, she was the only one available” Heeseung answered “She wasn't awake the last time we went to check on her.”

“Okay, I'll go see her.”

“Are you sure?” Sunghoon asked, looking deeply at Jongseong. Going to see her could be the moment you could wake up and finally recognize him. Bohr must have said about the Park family, for sure. Or omitted much of the scheme since her father saw her as an untouched princess. The immaculate one of the family that no one had the right to get close to.

That's why Jongseong planned to kidnap you in the first place because regardless of your father's dirty and disgusting thoughts, he treated you as if you were the only woman to be respected in the universe. Maybe Bohr's Achilles heel, so it was the hardest thing he had tried to do since he took over the leadership of the Park mafia after his father passed away.

There was no way he could get close to you given all the security and how your father kept you, but no one was prepared to accompany you to a simple lunch on a random Wednesday, at a fancy restaurant that you usually went to alone because no one knew that place.

Only Jongseong, after observing you for months, sees your routine like a disgusting stalker would. But he just wanted to be sure what your routine was and at what times you would be less protected so he could act, put the plan into action, and make your father suffer just like he had done to so many other people.

"What if she recognizes you?" Heeseung asked.

“I’ll introduce myself properly and tell you why I did this” he replied, stepping away from the table and walking towards the door of that room. But before leaving, he turned to the two boys who were still there. “And in the worst-case scenario, if she doesn’t behave, Hunter and Charlotte will have a feast for dinner tonight.”

He gave a small smile before leaving, leaving a chill running down Heeseung and Sunghoon’s spine. Not because the threat was empty and untouchable, but because the two of them knew what Park Jongseong was capable of doing.

The only light in that room was the dim bulb of the small rusty chandelier, casting a shadow on any silhouette that stood against it.

Your head was throbbing, as if you had been run over five times, back and forth. Your entire body was hurting, and what was more, you felt afraid. Like never before in your life.

Living in the environment your father chose to live in had consequences, and one of them was that you were always alert, far from danger, and consequently, afraid. Because the next day was uncertain, or even if it would come. There was no way to predict it. One day you would be sleeping in your warm, cozy bed, and the next you wouldn't even know if you would be there to tell the story. Especially since you were the daughter of a mafia boss.

Your years of life were made up of staying away from danger, learning to defend yourself, and trying to identify any hint of wrongdoing around you. Knowing who approached you willingly or out of interest, when you could leave the house, and who you would be with. Everything around you was controlled by your father and the men who worked for him. But unfortunately that morning it hadn't been that way.

You just wanted to have lunch at the best restaurant in the area, after all, it was fancy without attracting too much attention and you knew you could go there without any security because no one knew you were a regular there.

Well… That's what you thought until the last time.

Your father had many enemies in this circle, many people who would give anything to get their hands on him… But you? At least you were seen as often as he was. You hadn't even been mentioned in any meeting, only people close enough to him knew about the existence of Stephen Bohr's only daughter.

But a lot of things weren't adding up there, because someone knew about your existence. Someone knew who your father was and, even worse, the restaurant you frequented and when you frequented it. So they were keeping an eye on you, but for how long? And why?

The creaking of the door in the background made you wake up, open your eyes, and curl up a little more wherever you were. What you had learned was that, in that situation, you should stay still and try to identify a voice, if someone was alone or if they were going to talk while you pretended to still be asleep. But you had been through so much in the last few hours that everything you had learned had gone down the drain.

Your back quickly found the wall to support yourself, you looked around noticing that you were sitting on an old and worn mattress, so thin that you could almost feel the floor. Your eyes quickly scanned the room until stopping at the tall silhouette that had entered at that moment.

“How wonderful, you're awake!" an imposing, deep, and serious voice was being directed at you. A wave of shivers ran through your body as the man slowly approached. You didn't know if you were still afraid or anxious to see who was there.

The short walk to where you were wasn't long, but he had made sure to take as long as possible until the dim light in the room reached your entire body and face, thus revealing who was behind it.

“I'm glad to meet you in person, Miss Bohr” he smiled at you.

A smile that made your entire body freeze. It was cold, calculating, and devoid of any good feeling. You shrank a little more, noticing the restriction of your feet that, when your eyes ran over the area, you noticed they were tied.

"What do you want?” your throat burned as you asked, you had certainly not used your voice for so long. The last time you remember speaking or asserting your voice was when you felt large, strong hands grabbing you in the restaurant. You screamed, even with something covering your mouth as you were taken out of the establishment through the back door.

The man laughed darkly, even more than his previous smile. Walking a little further, he lowered himself to your body height, almost sitting on the floor with you.

“I want to make your father’s life hell” he widened his smile a little more after the startled reaction you had. It seemed that any negative response to what he said or did fed that bad ego a little more.

“I—” you stuttered, trying to find words that could help you in some way. How could you save yourself from that?

“You’re his only weak point, let’s face it” The man forced one of his knees to the floor, while the other leg was bent to balance his body a little more in that position “And since your father got involved in a dirty scheme and disrespected my father’s deathbed, I need to make him pay.”

“By kidnapping me?” Your voice came out shaky, your throat burning again as a ball of saliva formed in your mouth with the urge to cry when your eyes began to burn. “What do I have to do with what my father did?”

“I hope nothing” He didn’t take his eyes off you, even though he wasn’t making any movement. It seemed like that man wanted to study every little part of you to have some advantage because you didn’t know how long you could be stuck there. “But this is the only way to make him pay for what he did.”

“And what did he do?”

You noticed how his jaw – well-defined and sharp – twitched at your question. So you had no idea of the rottenness your father had gotten himself into beyond what he was showing you.

Jongseong wondered how much Stephen had told you if he knew anything at all. Meanwhile, your bright eyes almost made him falter. Because he only had you as the weak point of the man he wanted to take down, this was the only way to make him pay for everything wrong.

“If he didn’t tell you, do you think I should do it? Under these conditions?” he asked. For the first time, he looked away from your face to focus on any corner of the dimly lit room.

At that moment, your vision became blurred because you didn’t know if you were crying out of fear or because your father was hiding much more than you knew. Leading to them kidnapping you because of it. The man didn’t even notice that you let a few tears escape, or if he did, he didn’t comment out loud much less showed any regret for what he had done.

“I— Please tell me what my father did” you sobbed softly, begging for who knows what, you just wanted to know “I won’t tell him anything if I find out.”

“I know you won’t tell anything.” That gaze stared at you again, coldly and fixedly. Causing a shiver all over your body as he became serious for the first time, but the glow in his eyes was different from yours. “Otherwise I’ll have to silence you.”

“Killing me?” came out before you could even think to say it. He denied it vehemently, sighing slowly.

“Giving one part as a gift to your father and the other to Charlotte and Hunter.”

“And who are Charlotte and Hunter?” you asked, almost regretting it when you saw a glimpse of approach. An almost subtle movement on his part as he leaned in a little, a mischievous smile threatening to appear on those small, well-shaped lips.

Your eyes returned to his eyes when you saw him open his mouth to respond, but quickly shut up when fierce barking was heard a little further away, showing that those animals were approaching.

“They will be our greatest companions in the coming times,” he replied. “Treat them well or you will be dinner.”

What you thought would be just a few days locked up in that poorly lit place, that your father would soon find a way to call one of his men to get you out of there… Turned into weeks. Your only human interaction was with the person who came to bring you meals with a simple wave and your thanks in return.

That man with the devilish features and the darkest smile you had ever seen hadn't come to see you for many days. Not that you were counting on that, but you honestly thought you would be dog food after the first – and only – time you two had seen each other. If he wasn't there to scare you, then had he gone after your father?

And speaking of the older man, you hadn't even heard about him, listened to his voice. Nothing about your father was mentioned when anyone came in there. It seemed like the men weren't allowed to talk to you, or they had nothing to talk about since you didn't speak to any of them.

But what if your father had given up looking for you? Or he had no clue where you were? Because the guy who took you there seemed very smart and younger than anyone you'd ever seen in that environment. Not that you had contact with many people, but you don't remember someone like him working with things like that.

The sound of the door locks made you stop analyzing the whole situation, stop thinking about the reasons and circumstances, and focus on who was coming in. The precise steps towards you as the boy brings a tray with things that you would take a while to eat. He placed it on the rusty table a little further away from the mattress you were on, the thud against the iron making your body shrink a little.

As soon as he put the object down, he approached you slowly until you finally recognized him. It was the dark-haired man from the first time he was there. He looked even more serious, his face completely wrinkled as he ran one of his hands over his sharp jaw.

“Your father is an idiot,” he said suddenly, taking you by surprise with the slightly louder tone that echoed throughout the room. “He thinks he can corner my friends, the men who work for me, and still get away with it.”

“You—” your eyes suddenly burned, and your chest began to hurt at the thought that that man could have done something to your father. “Did you do something to him?”

“Not yet” his gaze made you more and more afraid, but this time you wanted to try to find some other feeling other than something bad. You wanted to understand the real reason why he hated your father so much.

He didn't wait for you to give any response after that, so he quickly approached the food tray to pick up the plate that had been prepared and the glass of juice. He bent down again right in front of you to hand you the meal.

Jongseong didn't even roll his eyes anymore when you refused to eat, remembering the many untouched meals he received back after his friends came to you to feed you.

“Eat” he practically ordered, gently pushing – or at least trying to – the plate onto the small mattress, trying not to knock anything over.

“No, I—” you cringed a little more “You did something to my father and now you're feeding me… This could be poisoned and—”

“I've been feeding you for weeks, Bohr” he finally rolled his eyes, snorting at your attitude at that moment “If I was going to poison you, I would have done it already.”

“But today is the second time you've come to see me since you kidnapped me.”

“Oh, so daddy’s little girl noticed my absence?” He seemed a little bolder and more convinced now. It was your turn to roll your eyes, even though fear was coursing through every drop of your blood.

“Please, just tell me what you did to my father,” you begged, not even caring if he would listen to you or not. Trying could be worth it while he was there.

“Only if you eat,” he replied. “I want to have the pleasure of killing you if the time comes, I don’t want you to starve to death before then.”

You prayed mentally that your stomach wouldn’t give you away at that moment, trying to appear as strong as possible in the face of that situation. It wasn’t like you had gone without food all that time, but eating as little food as possible from a completely unknown place was the best thing to do.

Your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you, he also held your gaze the whole time, as if he was waiting for something to say from you. Some movement, a request. And when it didn't come, Jongseong sighed loudly and reached out to grab the bread that was there. He cut a generous piece with his fingers, placing the largest half on the plate, while the other half, he chewed with a little anger without taking his eyes off you.

“See? No poison, Bohr girl” he was still chewing as he spoke, cleaning the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue before feeling a slight numbness in his legs from the position he was in. Then he decided to sit in front of you on the hard, cold floor “Now eat if you want to know things about your father.”

You had never seen anyone as crazy as Stephen Bohr, but that man in front of you made everything fall apart as you watched him. The way he carried himself, the way he talked about his father, and even when he talked to you in the few days he showed up there. Everything was strange.

It didn't seem like a deal made between the two of you, but if he had fulfilled his part by showing that he didn't want to poison you with the food he offered, you could give in a little and eat. Both because you were very hungry and also because you wanted to know about your father. Weeks without news and without knowing if he was that worried, so that man should say something.

Your eyes looked away for a few seconds to look at the half-eaten snack, taking that part and slowly bringing it to your lips. The first bite felt surreal inside your mouth and the mix of flavors was incredible.

“Did you like it?” he asked with a hint of compassion that bordered almost on pride when you took the second bite and almost moaned at how good it was. Your eyes lit up at that and when you took the third bite, you nodded positively to him “I made the sandwich, so thank you.”

You stopped chewing for a few seconds, and your eyes widened.

“Do you cook?” It was your turn to speak with your mouth full, apologizing softly and going back to eating.

“I don’t think you want to know about me right now, Miss Bohr” he smiled, for the first time, in a different way than the times you had seen him – even if it had been few.

He seemed to respect your time as he watched you eat your snack, carefully waiting for you to drink the juice and even the sweet biscuit he left.

How kind, it even seemed ironic to think that of someone who had kidnapped you.

After a long time of your first – and complete – meal, he put all the utensils away to return them to the table and sit down again in front of you. It seemed like the mattress was much smaller without any plate to separate you and him, although the boy wasn’t even on the mattress, per se.

Your eyes stared at him with a wordless request, he knew he should tell you even if that wasn't the goal.

Jongseong just wanted to scare Stephen, make him pay for everything, and after your father suffered whatever he deemed necessary, he could let you go.

“Your father gets involved in some very bad things” his look said it was nothing new, after all, he was the head of a mafia. Good things didn't come from there.

“Tell me something I don't know, Mr…”

“Park” he answered, preferring to refer to you only by your last name. It was fair since he knew yours.

“Mr. Park” you repeated, and Jongseong just nodded.

“Do you know the mafia's black market?” the question came out so strange on his tongue, such a bitter taste that, for the first time since you saw him, he seemed shaken. And even more so after you shook your head.

Was it his mission to tell you how it all worked? Was he the one who should ruin the image of everything he hated the most by saying things out loud?

Jongseong sighed loudly, one of his hands running through his hair and then letting it fall to his lap between his legs when, once again, his gaze fixed on you. His expression was severe, his dark eyes reflecting so little of the – almost non-existent – light in that room.

“Sorry to make you hear that, then” was the last light thing he said after starting a conversation and introducing you to a world that you never imagined your father, the one who was supposed to protect you, was a regular consumer of.

At first, Jongseong thought it was a brilliant idea to kidnap Stephen Bohr's daughter and make him pay for all the robberies that happened to the Park family because they didn't want to join him in the mafia's black market.

But why, a week since he told you everything, couldn't your horrified and crying face leave his mind?

The way you vehemently denied every word that came out of Jongseong's mouth, how you held back a scream and cried copiously. Repeating countless times that no, your father wouldn't do that. Girls your age or even younger than you were suffering something you never imagined. Meanwhile, the Park family was robbed of millions because they didn't want to finance such horrible smuggling and trafficking.

Jongseong didn't forget how Stephen wanted to rob his family at all costs, even with his father on the verge of death. He wanted to make that man pay and when the idea of kidnapping the only precious thing in Bohr's life – you – came up, he couldn't turn back. He couldn't deny that it had been something completely insane, considering that you were the same age as almost all the girls your father had lured. But Park wanted to do it to get the stolen money as ransom and then release you back.

He just didn't count on a slight regret starting to set in since he saw your teary eyes for the last time. It was obvious that you would cry, after all, no one would like to know that their father was involved in something as horrible as that. But the way you were crying, how much you held back from sliding down that mattress and asking for a hug when you just needed a friendly shoulder to unload that whole bombshell.

No. He couldn't have compassion for a suffering look and a person who was just a reason why an entire empire could fall.

Jongseong had even forgotten how pleasurable Stephen's agonizing voice on the phone had been, screaming and looking for his daughter. How he swore to go after Park and everyone who worked for him, kill them one by one, and get his daughter back.

But that wouldn't happen. He wouldn't let him. The purpose of all of that was to make that man waste away and return everything he had stolen, but what was stopping him was that discomfort in his chest that he felt every time he thought about you.

There was no reason for Jongseong to be like that, but why did he avoid going back to that room after he told you everything? Why did he send all his friends instead of going himself just to see how you were doing?

Besides, did he care about that? Since when did he want to know how you were? That wasn't part of the plan.

“What the hell?" he cursed softly, clenching his hands into fists and punching the table. This woke Charlotte who was lying on the leather sofa, looking at the boy and searching for something that was bothering him “Sorry, I woke you up, didn't I?”

She moved a little, adjusted her body on the sofa, and went back to lie down, but without sleeping. Looking at Jongseong as he heard him sigh loudly.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, Charlie” he looked at the dog in front of him. “Am I worrying or is it just because I’ve never kidnapped a girl?”

The dog threatened to bark, as if to answer him, but knocks on the door quickly interrupted him, which he was grateful for.

“Come in” Jongseong said, motioning for Charlotte not to move. So well trained, waiting for any command if it was necessary to attack.

“Your coffee, you little shit” Heeseung came in with a thermos in his hand, and the other free hand waved towards Charlotte. “Hey girl, your brother is taking a shower downstairs.”

At the word shower, Charlotte grunted a bark and cringed.

“She hates baths just like her father, how is it possible?”

The argument could go on, Jongseong would curse Heeseung and this would go on for long minutes. But the boss knew why his best friend had come there, especially with a thermos of steaming coffee.

“You can start talking” he replied immediately, as soon as Heeseung placed the coffee on the table and sat down next to Charlotte.

He seemed to hesitate a little, a single moment when he looked away from his friend to any corner of the room.

“Stephen almost found us” Heeseung said.

Jongseong stopped drinking his coffee halfway, feeling the bitter and hot liquid tearing down his throat. The feeling could have been uncomfortable if it weren't for the way Heeseung looked at him next.

“What do you mean?”

“That he's bloodshot after his daughter and that he almost killed Sunghoon.”

“What?” he almost shouted, scaring Heeseung and even the bitch who was almost going back to sleep “What the hell are you saying, Heeseung?”

“That he almost found us,” he continued “Sunghoon went to the bar last night and saw Stephen there, they exchanged shots and Hoon ended up getting grazed on the arm.”

“Where is he?”

“He's already been taken care of by your father's doctor and given medication, but I thought it best to leave him on the fourth floor of the mansion,” he explained, watching Jongseong get up from his chair and walk to the door. Following behind without saying much, Heeseung just let his friend guide him to where he had said Sunghoon was.

Everything that involved Jongseong's family was there. Everything he had ever known since he was born was under that roof, and the promise he had made to his father was to honor everything he had built and never to distort the Park family's principles.

When the two stopped at the door to the room that Heeseung had indicated, Jongseong simply opened it without ceremony or introducing himself. Pairs of eyes stared at him at that moment, and he felt a slight anger - accompanied by enormous relief - when he saw Sunghoon's smile.

“You son of a—”

“Just a graze wound, I'm alive” he was still smiling, grumbling loudly as he tried to raise his arm to greet his boss and friend. The dark-haired man approached, waving to the others as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I'm the one who's going to kill you, you idiot” Jongseong whispered, but the entire room could hear “If that happened, then did you exchange gunfire?”

An almost deafening silence was present. Sunghoon closed his eyes for a few seconds, pondering whether he should omit it and say that Stephen was so angry that he tried to hurt him, but he couldn't lie. He knew that Jongseong would end up finding out sooner or later.

So he just nodded, looking at the boy in front of him as he saw him sigh.

“I want to know every single detail of what happened in that bar, and what Bohr said to you before he hurt you.”

After everything Jongseong told you about your father, each day that passed your desire to meet him diminished even more. Maybe it would be better to stay trapped in that place and rot as much as you were wasting away with disgust and disbelief. The man who raised you. The man who, together with your mother, brought you into this world and gave you the best life to date.

You felt like vomiting every time you thought about each thing the boy had said to you almost three weeks ago. You also heard conversations behind the door and the small visits you had when someone brought you food.

One of the times you pretended to be asleep because you had cried a lot hours before and didn't want to be nice to anyone, although your niceness was limited to thanking them for the meals they offered you. But that night you heard very little.

The man who kidnapped you, the owner of that place, was talking to someone else. Hee… Something. You didn't understand, it wasn't important. But your mind recorded a few words.

Your father had attacked some of Jongseong's men at the bar. He was asking about you, but it seemed like he wasn't sure if it was the Park family who was holding you captive. So your father had so many enemies that he didn't even know who had kidnapped you? That was disgusting, and as each day passed, you became even more distrustful. Regardless of whether he was after the head of whoever had done that to you, or was offering a reward to whoever found you, you didn't want to be found.

If that mafia decided to release you one day, you would make sure to move to another country, change your identity, and disappear from the Bohr family's radar and everything that surname carried.

For the umpteenth time the door opened, someone was carrying your meal and you judged it to be breakfast by the dark and strong drink steaming inside a mug. Food wasn't very important to you at that moment, but your throat was yearning for coffee.

“Here you go, Miss Bohr” even though it was the only way everyone addressed you in that place, it was horrible to remember that your last name was known for such atrocity.

The boy in question placed the tray a little closer, waiting for you to come closer as you always did to get something to eat. Your hand reached up to grab just the mug, the warmth of the ceramic against your fingers warming your entire body at that moment.

Your lips slowly met there, drinking the hot and strong liquid and feeling it go down your throat. Your eyes closed, savoring how good it was.

For a moment you saw yourself far from that scene, drinking coffee anywhere other than in a dirty and precarious room, without an unknown boy staring at you and waiting for you to at least take a bite of the toast he had brought. Just to make sure you wouldn’t die of hunger. For a moment you wished you weren’t part of the family you were, or at least, didn’t know what you were now learning.

Would it be good to continue living a lie? Where you believed that your father did nothing wrong except live illegally with things here and there, not recruiting women and running a dirty scheme.

At that moment, many things went through your mind, but one of them surprised you as you took your lips off the mug and said it out loud, unable to control yourself.

“Do you want to help kill my father?”

“Excuse me?” the boy practically choked on the saliva he was almost swallowing, widening his eyes at you while you still held the mug in your hands, but away from your lips.

“I know your boss is going to do something to him, after all, my father stole from his father and did all these bad things and—” you sighed audibly, the boy in front of you sighed along with you, but a little less audibly. You went back to drinking some coffee, staring at his dimly lit face “I want to know if you intend to kill him or kill me first.”

You saw him move for the first time since you had entered that room and brought him your coffee. He took a few steps forward, his eyes fixed on you as you could see how deeply he was thinking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said firmly, and you might even have believed him if it weren’t for your father’s teachings. Something or other was good to get from a family of mafia bosses.

Of course, he knew what you were talking about, and the idea of asking that was crazy. He wouldn’t tell you what the boss was thinking of doing, much less to the daughter of one of his biggest rivals.

“I— I thought—” you were running out of cards, you thought he might give in with the sudden question and the way you hadn’t shown yourself vulnerable. You put the coffee mug back on the tray, shrinking your body a little more before closing your eyes. “Forget it. I just want them to get this over with.”

“And why do you want to know if we want to help kill your father?” he asked. Your eyes looked at him again, and you could see that the boy’s expression was now slightly doubtful, but at the same time, he seemed too calm. He didn’t have a hint of fear, unlike you, who had tried to be strong since you started that conversation.

He was the first boy who had come there to deliver food and who had started talking to you. The others barely answered you or simply cut the subject short and wished you a good meal before leaving, but not this one.

“To be quite honest? I don’t know.” Your eyes began to burn at the idea of helping to kill your father, especially since he was still your father, unfortunately. As the boy lowered himself to stand in front of you and at your sitting height, you felt a tear run down your cheek. A mix of feelings that ran through you and, at the same time, that you wanted to get rid of.

“Do you think we would kill him? Or would it be more pleasurable to make him see you suffer and the Bohr empire fall completely?” He began, “Because what your father did to my best friend and several women was not a very good thing.”

You knew. You wanted to answer that you knew, you wanted to scream and cry, saying that probably your friends who you thought had abandoned you every time they came to your house, had been kidnapped by your father. Who knows where they were now, doing who knows what? While you thought they had grown tired of you and your life, just like your father told you. That no one was an outcast to be your friend. That no woman was at your feet in friendship while you wasted away crying thinking that something was wrong.

The only thing wrong was that your father took advantage of the fact that your friends were close in age to yours, they would be perfect targets for what he did.

Disgust, resentment. Everything you felt at once when you thought about it.

“I think he did something to my friends because I’ve never been able to have a friend again.” Your throat burned, and your eyes were blurry as you tried to decipher whether the man looked at you with pity or anger for seeing someone of the same blood as your father in front of him. You tried to swallow your tears, but it wasn’t enough, it had to come out somehow. “And when your boss told me everything my father did…”

“So little princess Bohr wants to avenge her friends and help the Park mafia kill your father?” He laughed for a long time, or at least it seemed that way to you. Besides, saying it out loud seemed absurd, but in your thoughts, it was becoming more and more likely. It wasn’t something that could be out of reach, especially since you wanted to make him pay now that everything was falling into place in your mind.

“I just— I—”

“Excuse me, I have to get back to work,” he interrupted you, standing up before it was too late to give in to your request – which hadn’t even been made out loud, anyway.

“Wait! Hee…”

He turned around abruptly, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

“Do you know my name? Who the fuck told you my name, Bohr?” He took a few steps towards you, making you shrink even further against the wall – if that was even possible – making your back hurt from the extra pressure.

“I don’t know, I just heard…” you swallowed hard, the crying had already disappeared and given way to fear. The eyes that had previously looked at you with curiosity now looked with anger and something else that you couldn’t even name.

“What did you hear? Tell me!” he shouted.

“Hey!” another shout from the other side of the room, you and the boy looked in the direction quickly “What’s going on here?”

It was boss Park, you would recognize his voice and posture anywhere. Especially because he was the one who had visited you the most in that grotesque place.

Without an answer, the other left so quickly that you didn't even hear what he mumbled before he left. Leaving you and the dark-haired man alone in that room.

He stared at the door that had been opened with force at that moment, and then his eyes soon went to you and scanned everything around you.

“Eat, your coffee is going to get cold.”

That was the only thing he said before leaving the room and closing the door a little more gently than the last one. Leaving you with a million thoughts, a racing heart, and even more desire to cry.

Heeseung felt his head spin. Jongseong's fist landed the umpteenth blow, making the boy stagger back until he sat aggressively in the chair.

“I—”

“Shut up, you piece of shit, I'm not done yet” he approached again, his right hand was already at the perfect angle for the next punch, but the force with which he was stopped made him take a few steps back.

The smoldering look he directed at whoever was responsible for stopping him didn't have much effect, Jaeyun just looked at him with a serious expression, not as rigid as that of his best friend and boss of that mafia.

“Is it over yet?” he tried to seem indifferent to what was happening, almost letting out a loud curse when he saw Heeseung's bloody face.

“I was almost—”

“Killing our best friend? Of course.” Jaeyun laughed sarcastically, a trait he learned over time as he delved deeper into that dark world. If it weren’t for the two boys right in front of him, Sim would no longer be among them.

“You don’t even know what happened. You wouldn’t be acting so normal if you let me talk.”

“Then start talking,” he said.

Sim Jaeyun was the only one who could make Park Jongseong lose his boss's composure and listen to someone. Aside from Park James, his father, he knew that Jaeyun could make him maintain a more appropriate and less executioner posture than what was left after the patriarch was gone.

He saw his best friend on the edge of the ruins and tried his best to bring him back and not make the boy so bad or so bloodthirsty like that. Very few times were they successful, he brought something good out of Jongseong. But most of the time he ended up arriving late with his best friend covered in blood on his hands – literally or not – and that frustrated him.

“Heeseung almost ruined everything” Jongseong sighed, running his hands over his shirt without the intention of cleaning the blood from his friend that had been there “He almost ruined my months-long plan now.”

“How?” Jaeyun sighed, walking over to Heeseung who hadn’t opened his mouth to say a single word since the other arrived there.

“Interacted with Bohr’s daughter” Jongseong continued “I heard almost everything before I arrived.”

And then he stopped talking. It was Jaeyun’s cue to look at Heeseung so he could start saying something.

“I was intrigued by the fact that she asked if we wanted to help kill her father, who talked about her friends.” With some difficulty, Heeseung spoke a few words very slowly. Feeling the corner of his mouth pull back and the metallic taste of blood between his teeth. He closed his eyes, an uncomfortable pain in his jaw making itself felt, but he had to continue. “Jay’s plan is incredible, he wants to avenge Uncle James and that’s the main thing here, we know, but…”

“Heeseung” Jaeyun stopped him as he began to put together the dots of his friend’s imaginary puzzle in front of him.

“What if—”

“You don’t know if that was it, man. We can’t be sure…”

“But I could ask” he continued. “We didn’t know anything about his daughter until then, but—”

“Don’t finish this.”

“Or what? Are you going to beat me up like Jay is doing because I think your sister was friends with Bohr’s daughter and disappeared into all this shit?”

Silence. Jaeyun felt a pang in his chest as he stared at Heeseung as soon as he opened his eyes.

It wasn't the injured boy's fault that he wanted to know about Jaeyun's sister, after all, she was Heeseung's, first love. He wanted as much as Jongseong to get involved and destroy Stephen Bohr. For different reasons, but with a common goal.

Heeseung had no idea that anything could fit, but as soon as you mentioned that all your friendships were disappearing… Then maybe you could have met Sim's sister. Maybe you could have spent the last moments with her in a way that he couldn't. And that made him rekindle something that, for a long time, was no longer there.

Revenge was something he wanted more than anything, and when he heard you with the idea of helping to kill boss Bohr, he couldn't deny it. But he also couldn't control the anger he felt when he heard his name mentioned by someone in his family. You weren't to blame for what your father did or what he became, but Heeseung couldn't blame himself for feeling angry at everything and everyone that came from that family either.

“It wasn't just you who lost her, Heeseung.” Jongseong bit his lower lip, the strength of his teeth biting into the flesh with the urge to cry out of anger, sadness, and injustice. He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. “Emma was Jake's sister, your girlfriend, and my best friend too.”

“Don't talk about her in the past tense, no—”

“Do you think she's still alive?” Jaeyun asked.

Jongseong and Heeseung looked at each other for the first time since all of this had started. Since seeking revenge against the Bohr family had been solely because he had robbed the Park family. No other motive had been mentioned by the son of the late patriarch and – now – mafia boss.

“I don’t know,” Jongseong replied, not feeling confident in his answer and even feeling confident enough to look at his two friends at that moment. “I just want to focus on the robbery against my family, because if I think about Emma…”

“If I think about my sister…” Jaeyun interrupted, “I’ll go down to that room myself and kill Bohr’s daughter.”

“We need her.” Heeseung wanted to accept the offer, kill someone from the family of a man who had only harmed and – possibly – had taken away one of the most important people for the three of them there.

“To send false information to her father? Are you going to tell me which of the two dogs ate Miss Bohr’s pinky?”

“No, not for that” he continued speaking, ignoring Jaeyun’s questions and looking back at Jongseong. His friend looked back at him, holding the look that carried a lot of feeling at that moment. “But I think she can be useful to us.”

“And how would she be useful besides serving as bait to corner her father?” Jongseong was a little uncertain, even though he knew where Heeseung was going with all of this.

He knew what his best friend thought. He knew that he didn't leave anything unanswered much less leave something loose without explanation or conclusion, thinking about it had some purpose for him.

“She seemed very disappointed with everything that happened, you said yourself that she didn't want to eat for a long time after she found out about everything her father did.”

The two remembered the times when Jongseong showed a little compassion for the woman held captive who wouldn't eat after the great disappointment. Her father's mask fell and she discovered the true face of someone who had always raised her and had to be there to protect her. It was the first time that Jaeyun and Heeseung saw their boss worried to the point that he avoided seeing her like that. Looking for some way to make her feel a little more comfortable – even if it was impossible – in the place they were keeping her.

“If we tell her about Emma, ask if they were friends and even tell her what her father did during all this time besides the robberies, she might join us.”

“You want Bohr’s daughter to be our ally to kill her father?” Jaeyun asked, incredulous at his friend’s crazy mind.

“It would be perfect, dude” he sighed, a little less in pain than before “She knows her father’s every move. She knows if he has any hiding places, she knows what he does and doesn’t do” Heeseung got up from the chair, staggered a little, and was supported by Jongseong. With an apologetic look, he felt the strong grip on his friend’s shoulder before straightening up and standing up.

“Do you two think she would be convinced to help us?” Jongseong asked after letting go of Heeseung. He wasn’t confident in that, after all, his initial plan was being completely diverted. But he couldn’t deny that the idea was working out well.

“If we talk a little better and not in that grotesque room, maybe she’ll accept.”

Maybe she’ll accept, or maybe she won’t. There were both possibilities, and Jongseong was starting to freak out internally. He could deny it, go ahead with the plan, and start negotiations. Take someone’s finger and send it by mail, or take photos that could simulate you being in the worst condition, just so your father would feel some kind of fear and threaten whoever was behind it.

But most of boss Park’s thoughts revolved around the possibility that you could be a great help, that you could ally with them and infiltrate your father’s mafia to gather as much information as possible before he recovered everything that was stolen and then take revenge on your father.

Walking slowly to the table, Jongseong felt his body ache. Too much adrenaline and too many mixed feelings in a short time. He just wanted to hug his dogs, take a long bath, and sleep for almost twelve hours if possible. But he had to think fast and act even faster.

As he sat down in his usual leather chair, both pairs of eyes stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response: positive or negative. It didn't matter, they just wanted Jongseong to say something.

A small sigh was heard, the head thrown back on the back of the chair and the dark-haired man's unreadable gaze before the words left his lips.

“Let's talk to her and try to convince her to join us.”

“What if it doesn't work out?” Jaeyun asked, thinking of all the possibilities. Jongseong liked this because he was one of the few men working for the Park family who thought of both possibilities. It was never a matter of just winning or losing. Jaeyun always thought of yes and no.

“If it doesn't work out, we'll have to kill two Bohrs, not just Stephen.”

651 notes · View notes

captain-huggy-bear · 4 months ago

Text

Into the Penalty Box

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Jack has to put your son in the sin bin...

Notes: Short but I had this really fun idea for how Jack doles out consequences as a dad.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"Jack, baby...Carter just bit Ellen." You're tugging Carter along behind you by the wrist gently, he's pouting at the entire way and dragging his feet. Ellen is in your arms sniffling and crying into your shoulder because her big brother (at the tender age of 5 years old) decided that the best way to get rid of his 'annoying' baby sister (of 2) was to bite her. Hard. On the arm.

"Let me see, baby girl." Your daughter holds her arm out to her dad, who's suitably sympathetic, cooing over the teeth marks and pressing a kiss there to 'make it better'. It brings a smile to her little face, tears starting to dry up, but leaving blotchy redness behind.

Once Jack has dealt with the issue of his baby girl crying he turns to his son who you've release your grip on knowing he's unlikely to make a run for it and has typically been pretty good at accepting punishment. Mostly because he's stubborn enough that he always wants to plead his case first.

Jack folds his arms across his chest looking down at the spitting image of himself at 5 years old, light brown near blonde curls, bright blue eyes, chubby blushing cheeks and many missing teeth. Carter is Jack, rowdy, loud, full of energy and from time to time fed up with having a baby sibling who wants his attention all the time. One day he'll grow to love it, hate when his sister stops idolising him, but for now? For now apparently biting has become his new solution and Jack had always taught him that biting was not something they did in their house.

You bounce Ellen in your arms, running a hand over her hair and down her back while you watch Jack crouch down to Carter's level. Jack, despite people's belief, was a disciplinarian. Just not in the usual way...he never shouted, he didn't scream, he didn't insult the kids, none of the typical old school dad stuff, but what he did do always seemed to work.

"Bud, you can't bite your sister."

"But she was being annoying!" It's like watching a second Jack, the way Carter folds his arms across his little chest and puffs out his cheeks as he pouts. You're surprised he didn't stomp a foot on the floor, but it seems he learnt from last time that that only got him more penalty minutes.

"I don't care, it's against the rules, bud, against the code. You've got 5 minutes in the penalty box, get." Jack points to the corner of your living room where the penalty box sits. At first the penalty box had been simply a pillow in the corner, but one summer Jack, Quinn and Luke had spent some time and money making a replica penalty box that sat perfectly in your living room. At first you'd been...less than pleased, but now it was the highlight of your parenting adventures. The way Carter would slam the little door closed, how he'd pout on the bench and drink from the water bottle you always put in there for him as he'd watch the little clock. Whenever he was in hockey gear it was made even better, especially the replica Devils Jersey Luke had gotten him one Christmas. Then it really was like watching a baby Jack sitting in the sin bin.

"But you bite mom!" Carter's face practically goes bright red with his frustration, brows so furrowed they're almost in his eyes and this time he does stomp his feet.

There's a beat of silence, one in which you do your very best not to laugh because Jack's play biting apparently has come back to haunt him. All those times he's come home and pretended to take chomp out of your arm or neck, every time he placed a kiss on your neck in front of Carter only to bite you lightly to make you laugh...

Jack tries everything in his power to remain stern, to not laugh, to not give in because fuck, he's really dug himself a hole with this one, "I nibble on your mom, I don't 'bite' her and I never hurt her. You were trying and succeeded in hurting your baby sister."

"Dad!"

"Do you want another 5 for unsportsmanlike conduct?" Jack's favourite tool whenever Carter or Ellen start to argue back to him, although mostly Carter. Ellen has yet to reach the terrible period of defiance that all toddlers go through.

"No..."

"So into the penalty box, bud." You both watch as Carter slumps off towards the box, slamming the door closed behind him, the wood and plastic wobbling slightly under the force of it.

He sits on the bench, arms crossed, glaring at the clock. Jack sets a timer for 5 minutes and you watch. There's something about watching either of the kids in the box that's interesting because you can see the moment they start to cool down and realise that maybe they're in there for a reason.

With Carter it's the way he starts to look towards Ellen, face scrunched up in guilt, biting on his little lip. You know at 2 minutes and 24 seconds in the sin bin, that Carter will never bite Ellen again and you know that he understands that he hurt her, really hurt her.

It's what has you putting her down and letting her waddle towards the box nearer to the time being over and what has you opening the box a minute early.

You lean into Jack's side and watch as Carter leans down and pulls his baby sister into a hug, before reaching for her arm and placing a kiss on the boo boo where he bite her a little too hard.

"'m sorry, Ellie. I shouldn't have bit you."

"'s okay, Cay-Cay" Because she always struggled to fully say Carter so he'd become Cay-Cay to her. She pats his cheek with her little hand and you know, you know it'll be okay, that you're raising two good kids even if they have their moments.

"Sin bin works again, and you wanted to get rid of it." Jack looks smugly down at you, all dimples and stupidly attractive smirk as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

You roll your eyes at him even as you lean further into him, "Yes, well, I guess you have good ideas sometimes...biter."

"Hey! You love when I bite you...just, maybe need to avoid the jokes around the kids...did not see that coming."

#huggy bear #going to do this when i have kids #jack hughes/reader #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

936 notes · View notes

cosmiclily · 3 months ago

Note

Omg i have a request for caitlyn x reader where reader tells cait she is ready to start a family (sorry baby fever has been going crazy lately)

baby fever

caitlyn x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

notes: im ovulating so i had babies on my mind the whole week too 😭

Maybe it started that Christmas when the two of you decided to spend the holiday with your family. Your sister had brought her two brats over, and while everyone else did their best to tolerate the chaos, Caitlyn was the only adult who gave them her full attention. She sat patiently, listening as your niece sang an improvised song about mashed potatoes and nodding along as your nephew excitedly explained the intricate lore of his favorite video game.

Or maybe it was that time you were hanging out with your friends, and the topic of babies came up. You hadn't thought much of it at first—until you caught the way Caitlyn's eyes sparkled at the conversation. She laughed, brushed it off, and insisted that the two of you weren’t ready yet. But for a fleeting moment, there was something in her expression, something wistful, something that made your heart skip a beat.

Or perhaps it was the day the two of you went shopping, and you found yourselves lingering a little too long in the baby section. You had only wandered in by accident—at least, that’s what you told yourselves. But then Caitlyn picked up a pair of tiny socks with baby animals printed on them, turning them over in her hands with an almost reverent curiosity. You watched as she smiled to herself, running her fingers over the soft fabric, and something in your chest tightened.

You weren’t sure when exactly it began, but once the thought of having children took root in your mind, it refused to leave. It followed you everywhere.

You went to work imagining what it would be like to wake up next to your wife and hear the soft patter of little feet running into your room. You made dinner picturing Caitlyn sitting at the table, patiently helping your child with their homework while you stirred a pot on the stove. You walked past a park and could see her there, kneeling beside a tiny bike, holding it steady as a small, wobbly figure pedaled forward with determination.

And it was driving you crazy.

Because now, every time you looked at Caitlyn, all you could think about was how incredible she would be as a mother. The thought consumed you, lingering in the quiet moments, in the way she absentmindedly twirled her hair while reading, in the soft hum she let out when focused, in the way she always seemed to have endless patience and warmth to give.

“Baby, can I ask you a question?”

She was resting her head on your thigh, her book open as she relaxed against you. The soft glow of the lavender candle flickered in the background, filling the room with its soothing scent. You ran your fingers through her navy hair, absently wondering if your children would inherit the same color, if tiny hands would one day tug at her locks the way you did now.

“Hmm?” she murmured, tilting her head slightly but not looking away from the page. “What is it?”

You hesitated for a moment before asking, carefully, casually, “Have you ever thought about having children?”

That caught her attention. Caitlyn lowered her book onto her chest and turned her gaze to you, studying your face as if trying to gauge where this was coming from.

“I mean… yeah, of course,” she admitted, her voice thoughtful. “I’ve thought about it before. But why do you ask?”

You shrugged, but the casual act didn’t quite land—not when your heart was hammering in your chest. “I was just wondering.”

Caitlyn let out a soft chuckle, reaching up to trace gentle patterns on your thigh. “You don’t just ask that out of nowhere,” she said knowingly. “What’s on your mind?”

You exhaled, glancing away for a second before looking back at her. “Lately, I’ve been thinking about it more. A lot more.”

Her fingers stilled against your skin. “Oh?”

You nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. “I keep imagining it—us with a kid. Waking up to them climbing into bed with us, helping them with homework, teaching them how to ride a bike… I don’t know when it started, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

For a moment, Caitlyn didn’t say anything. She just looked at you, her blue eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, a small, knowing smile spread across her lips.

“Would it make you happy?” she asked softly.

Your heart swelled at the tenderness in her voice. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I think it would.”

She shifted, sitting up properly so she could face you, her hands resting gently on your knees. “Then maybe… we should talk about it.”

“Yes, I think we should,” you said, a smile spreading across your face. There was a nervous excitement bubbling inside you now, like the moment right before the first drop on a rollercoaster—terrifying but exhilarating all the same.

Caitlyn tilted her head slightly, studying you with quiet amusement. “You’ve really been thinking about this, huh?”

You hesitated for only a second before letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah… I know I said I was just wondering, but…” You glanced away briefly, suddenly shy. “I kind of have a list.”

“A list?” Her brows lifted in surprise, but there was no teasing in her voice—just curiosity and something softer, something almost affectionate.

You nodded. “Of things for our children.”

“Children?” She chuckled, catching the plural immediately. “As in more than one?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, sheepish but not backing down. “Yeah. I mean, I was thinking two… maybe three.”

Caitlyn laughed, shaking her head. “I love how you went from ‘just wondering’ to ‘I have an entire life plan in my head.’”

You grinned. “I can’t help it. Once I started thinking about it, I couldn’t stop.”

She hummed thoughtfully, tracing small circles on your knee with her thumb. “Alright then,” she said, leaning back slightly. “Tell me what’s on this list of yours.”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous but excited. “Okay, well… first of all, I really want them to have meaningful names. Something strong, but also something that has a special meaning to us.”

She nodded in approval. “I like that.”

“And I want them to grow up knowing they can talk to us about anything. No matter what.”

Caitlyn’s expression softened. “That’s important.”

“Oh! And I was thinking—you have all these books, right? What if that became, like, a thing? A bedtime tradition? You could read them a story, and it could be our way of winding down as a family.”

Caitlyn smiled, the kind of smile that reached her eyes. “I really like that idea.”

Encouraged, you kept going. “I want them to learn to ride a bike early, to love books the way you do, and—oh! You know those little socks with baby animals? We have to get those.”

Caitlyn laughed again, shaking her head. “You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?”

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed but also incredibly full of love. “I just… I want to build something beautiful with you.”

For a moment, Caitlyn just looked at you, something unreadable in her expression. Then she reached forward, cradling your face in her hands before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours. “I want that too,” she whispered.

And in that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just a thought in your head anymore. This was the beginning of your family.

──────────────────────

masterlist

#caitlyn x you #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #lily writes #request ♡

540 notes · View notes

mrsbarnesblog · 11 months ago

Note

Hi!! I love your work, if your ok with it can you do Sub! Rafe?? He basically just lets the reader top him but he starts getting all subby on her and cries bc of how good it feels.

➤ w/c: 2.1k.

➤ warnings: smut, sub Rafe, p in v, blow job, unprotected sex, tying up, multiple orgasms, creampie

➤ a/n: let's fucking gooo. I have been WAITING for someone to ask me to write this because I love, love, love subby Rafe. so thank you for the request and hope you'll like this one😘

masterlist

“Just let me try it one time, please.” You looked up at your boyfriend and gave him the best puppy eyes, knowing that no matter how much he refused, he could never tell you no. “You’ll like it, and if you don't, you can just say a word and I’ll stop.”

“I won’t like it.” Rafe grumbled, rubbing his forehead in frustration. You were asking him to let you be on top, to control everything, and especially him, for the first time. He was scared to let someone do that to him, but at the same time, the smallest part of him craved it crazily. “But we can try.”

You squeaked in happiness, then reached up to hold the back of Rafe’s neck to bring him into the heated kiss. The atmosphere in the room quickly shifted when you started moaning into each other's mouths, with hands gripping whatever body part they could find.

You slowly bucked Rafe closer to the bed, then pushed him back on the plush blanket. He grumbled again, but still obediently moved up and was laid back on the pillow, clearly waiting for you.

With a teasing smile on your face, you took his leather belt off the floor and straddled him. “Gimme your hands.” You lowered your body, giving Rafe a quick peck on the lips, and started fixating his hands to the metal headboard.

The position that you were in gave Rafe an amazing look at your tits, which were spilling out of your bra behind your silk robe. He licked his lips, at that moment not even caring about anything else; his eyes were too focused on your body right in front of his face.

You pulled back, making sure that his hands were secure and he couldn’t free himself without your notice, then took a second to admire your boyfriend. Rafe was now all yours, laying under you without a shirt on and only in your favorite gray sweatpants. Your eyes trailed down his body, gawking at his shoulders, biceps, chest and abs. Just looking at it made you go into a spiral.

“Now… I’m going to do everything that you always do with me, and if you’re being good, you’ll get a reward.” You tilted your head to the side playfully, your nails scratching his toned skin from his neck down to the belly button, feeling the way muscles twitched under your fingers.

Rafe wasn’t fully listening to you, to be honest. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, the image of you sitting on top of him, your robe high on your thighs and almost exposing your boobs, was making him painfully hard.

“Take it off. I need to see you.” He demanded as usual, already feeling agitated with the way he couldn’t take control of everything like he used to.

“You’re not giving orders right now. Ask nicely and I’ll think about it.” Rafe's hands moved unconsciously as he tried to touch you, but the belt stopped him. You smirked, leaning lower until your lips were right above his chest. You kissed his heated skin while looking him in the eyes, moving lower and lower until you reached the hem of his sweatpants.

“Baby, please.” He breathed out desperately.

Not giving in, you trailed your nail right above his pants, making his hips twitch upwards in search of more contact.

“You said you wouldn't like it, hm?” You arched an eyebrow, pointing to the very obvious bulge. Rafe huffed and his face was slightly flashed. He was too stubborn to admit it, but seeing the actual reaction of his body was everything you needed to know. “Ask me politely, Rafe.”

“Touch me.” He breathed out, closing his eyes, and once again tested the belt’s hold on his hands. “Please. I need it.”

“Mhm, so you can be nice?” Sliding your fingers under the waistband, you finally pulled his pants and boxers down his legs. His cock, painfully hard and with a leaking tip, bounced against his lower abdomen and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it.

Rafe moaned at your touch, throwing his head back against the pillow and then biting on the flesh of his stretched-out bicep. The next thing he felt was your soft tongue licking him from the bottom up, focusing and swirling around his swollen head.

“Fuck! Shit—don't tease me like this, baby.” With parted lips and hooded eyes, he looked down at you, and the image alone of you standing on your hands and knees with his cock in your mouth could send him into space. Maintaining eye contact, you used your tongue exactly like you knew he liked until Rafe couldn’t hold back anymore and you heard that pretty whining noise. “I’m close—“

As soon as you heard these words, you pulled away, leaving him on the edge and desperate for more. “Oh, I’m sorry, but you’re not getting it that easily.” You finally untangled the silk belt of your robe, letting it freely slide down your arms. Rafe drooled at the sight in front of him, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

Never in his life had he wanted something so desperately, like he wanted to touch you right now. It was the sweetest torture to see your perfect body right in front of his hungry eyes but not being able to feel it.

“I need to touch you. Please, let me do it.” He mumbled, his pupils dilated and his eyes were much darker than before. Rafe pulled his hands again, making metal cling against metal, but you just shook your head.

“You can only watch; no touching, baby.” You observed the way his eyes got shut tightly, head pushed against the pillow and he huffed, mumbling something incoherent. You’ve never seen Rafe act like this, being so open and emotional, so vulnerable infront of you. The way he needed you made you squeeze your thighs on either side of his body as another wave of arousal washed over you. “I’ll make you feel good.”

Finally unclipping your bra, you maneuvered to pull your panties down your legs, then returned back on top of Rafe. His cock was placed right next to your pussy, just barely touching your sensitive folds.

Your hand wrapped around him again, pumping his cock a few times, before slightly moving up and sliding the mushroom head against your pussy lips.

“Oh fuck—“ Rafe moaned, looking down there with hooded eyes. He was leaking with precum and your movements only made it mix with your wetness and glister on his length. Your mouth slightly opened, moaning too, when his cock finally got caught in your entrance and with one smooth motion, he slipped inside.

It was euphoric.

“Oh my god, Rafe! You feel so good inside.” You pressed your hands on Rafe’s abs, testing your ability to move on him without any help. He filled you perfectly, stretching you to the brim and hitting all the right places, making you throw your head back in delight. You moved up, leaving only the tip, and then pushed down with a loud slap of the skin.

“No-no-no, holy shiiit.” It happened before you could register it, but with a few circular motions of your hips, Rafe’s cock twitched inside of you and you felt a familiar, warm feeling inside of you. With your mouth open in shock, you looked down, seeing the evidence of Rafe’s orgasm on your thighs as his cum started sliding down around his cock. Then you looked back at him seeing even more flushed cheeks and glossy eyes. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop myself—“

During the whole time that you were dating, Rafe had never finished before you, always dragging a few orgasms out of you, not to mention that it had never happened that fast. Always so determined to make you feel good, he could hold back for hours, just enjoying teasing you. But thinking that you could pent him up to the point when he couldn’t control his body, made you want to do to him the dirtiest things.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” You soothed him, leaning forward to reach his face and distracting him with a kiss. Your pussy spasmed around his softened cock, making you both moan in each other's mouths. “I need you to give me another one, baby.” You straightened back, teasingly moving your ass in a circle and observing Rafe’s reaction.

He whined—he literally whined at the overstimulation, trying to move his cock away while at the same time craving more. The headboard squeaked under his strong pulls, barely able to restrain Rafe’s desires. He wanted you. He wanted you so fucking badly. To just put his hands on your body, roll you on your back and fuck the living shit out of you. He wanted to make that aching feeling in the pit of his stomach go away, because even though he just came, he needed more and it was killing him.

“Fuck yourself on me. Use me.”

“Mmm, you’re so sweet when you’re begging me, Rafey.” You teased, now feeling his fully erect cock giving you so much-needed fullness again. With your hands on his chest, you started bouncing up and down, swirling your hips to drag more moans and groans out of Rafe. “You’re feeling me up exactly the way I need it. Always so good for me, baby. Such a good boy.”

“Y-yeah, I’m good for you, and I need to feel you cumming around me.” You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace. His brows kneaded in concentration and eyes got laser-focused on the place where you two were connected. Seeing his cum, mixed with your wetness, dripping down his shaft and smirging all over yours and his things was more than Rafe could handle. “‘s too much—“

“I’m gonna cum. Cum with me, baby. I need to feel how you fill me up again. Can you be good and do that for me?” Your hand reached to Rafe’s face, gripping his jaw until you felt him nod back to you. His eyes suddenly became more reddish, showing off your favorite blues in contrast with tears on his waterline. His lips parted again as he seemingly got closer to his second orgasm.

You clenched around his cock, slightly moving forward to align your clit with his pelvis to create perfect friction. Your bounces got sloppier and less accurate as the blood-rushing noise in your ears became more and more noticeable.

You both came almost at the same time, moaning each other’s names in bliss. He shot rope after rope of hot semen up your quivering pussy, encouraging you to keep moving and squeezing him. Your cunt was milking every last drop, as you felt extremely greedy to get everything that you could.

Looking up, you saw Rafe with tightly shut eyes and tears rolling down his cheeks. He was panting, trying to catch a breath and clenching his fists against the restraints. You fell forward on his sweaty chest, reaching up to unbuckle the belt.

The second Rafe’s hands were free, he put them on your body, touching, gropping and claiming you again, despite the pain of being in an uncomfortable position for too long. He finally sprawled them on your back, not letting you move even for an inch.

After spending at least ten minutes in that exact position, with him balls deep in you, and in complete silence, you both couldn’t believe what just happened. When the fog finally cleared out of his brain, Rafe slightly pushed you to lay face-to-face on your sides.

“What the fuck have you done to me, baby?” He whispered against your skin. “You made me cum like a fucking teenager who had his first sex.”

“I just showed you that you don’t have to always be in charge of everything. I can take care of you too.” You pushed Rafe’s sweaty bangs away, throwing your leg over his hip so it would be more comfortable for him to stay in the warmth of your body. He trembled in your hands, hiding his face in your hair and breathing in your scent.

You knew that he felt vulnerable and exposed at that moment, so you didn’t say anything further, just giving Rafe some comfort with your touch and presence.

#rafe smut #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot

2K notes · View notes

softtdaisy · 4 months ago

Text

in the meantime / Aaron Hotchner

summary. when hotch gets hurt, you're called as his emergency contact. thing is, nobody knows you're not together anymore.

words count. 2 336

what to expect. a little angst I guess but fluff too, Jack is mentioned but he's a teen

a/n. I first imagined this very funny and light and I ended up adding more angst??? but it's still sweet and cute and hotch is a lover boy

F1 masterlist | general masterlist| request

When you got called at school, at first, you didn’t think it could be that moment you’ve been scared of for months finally happening.

Being a kindergarten teacher, it was easy to leave your class and ask for a colleague to take care of your children. They were all occupied with creating a new poster with their names and wouldn't even notice your absence. Well, you imagine they wouldn’t because you weren’t supposed to leave for too long.

“Do you know who’s asking for me?” you asked the principal’s assistant who came for you. He was one of your friends here, so you knew how to analyze his gesture. And from how fast he was walking right now, you could tell this was more serious than you first thought.

“Well, she’s a brunette, dressed in black.” He stopped in the middle of the hallway to think for a second. Trying hard to remember what her name could be. Thing was, you didn’t know that many brunettes, dressed in black that could authorize herself to come here. “I think her name is Emily or something like that.”

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, freezing.

You appreciated Emily. You would even call her a friend, even if you only knew her through Hotch. But you barely talked outside of the moment you spent together.

Getting a call from her would have been weird. Having her come to your school wasn’t normal at all.

Yet, here she was. Waiting in the principal’s office. Indeed, she was wearing an all-black outfit but mostly wearing a concerned expression on her face.

When you opened the door, she rushed to you, interrupting her conversation. Her hand was soon on your shoulder and her eyes were locked on yours. You found some comfort in it. The problem was, you had no idea why you needed it.

“What are you doing here, Emily?” you asked, whispering like it was some secret the rest of your colleagues or your superior didn’t need to know. Which was true, somehow. “Is everything alright?”

But you knew it wasn’t. And the three words that followed were the proof. “It’s Hotch.”

Your heart dropped, and the whole world went silent.

You’ve spent months afraid of hearing these words one day. Checking your phone multiple times a day, waiting for his text to make sure he was doing fine. There were moments when you would have the same nightmares of coming home to an empty house, sometimes with more graphic images you wished you could forget.

When Emily noticed you seemed to disconnect from reality, she put her other hand on your shoulder. “He’s ok,” she added.

“I don’t know how, but the unsub managed to stab him in the stomach. He lost a lot of blood and went to surgery, but he should be fine. Spencer told me he was waking up when he arrived here, you heard Emily explain, but her voice seemed like a distant melody.

You tried to focus on the good news, that Hotch was fine. As fine as he can be after an attack that probably woke up some trauma, but fine. Not dead. Not in danger. Fine.

You took a breath and nodded to accept the information you just got. And showing Emily that you listened, that you understood what she said.

It wasn’t until you managed to keep your stress as low as possible that the question popped up in your head. “You came all the way here to tell me?”

Emily looked at you with confusion.

“Well, you’re his girlfriend and his emergency contact. And you weren’t answering your phone. I thought it would be better to bring you to the hospital myself than let you learn about that later by yourself.”

That was the moment you understood why Emily chose to drive all the way here.

Hotch didn’t tell anyone you weren’t together anymore.

Dating Hotch was easy, more than people thought it was.

He was a great listener. He loved to hear you speak about everything in your life just as much as he loved paying attention to small details. Offering your favorite flowers, having your favorite artist in his car, and sending a text about important events at your job even when he was miles and miles away.

You could tell Hotch was working on the experience he got from his past relationship and all that he still had to learn to be a good partner for you. And he was doing a wonderful job on it.

This relationship did a lot of good for him too. With Jack being a teen and less with his dad, he finally felt like he had a new purpose to come back home. Hotch learned to love opening his door again. This time not being met by the silence. But by you, with some kind of reality TV on, reading a book on a sofa he almost forgot about before seeing you on it—not to mention the memories the both of you created on it. You made him feel loved. At his place but at every place in his life too.

For a year, you two have been the happiest and did everything to make this relationship work. Even the team noticed the change in Hotch’s personality. And after multiple drinks together, you started to call them friends too. You both loved the routine you created together.

But even with the brightest sun shining on your relationship, the truth was the stress was still there. His job was anxious, to you, but to him too. Having someone to care about in his life once again made Hotch concerned about losing you. He tended to be more protective after rough cases, sometimes leaning to some controlling behavior he hated as much as you did.

The disputes became more and more recurrent. And after another fight, you both decided that maybe you needed a moment away from each other to wonder if this was really worth it. You wanted Aaron Hotchner to be the love of your life; you really did. Just as he wanted to. But was it really the life you both wanted?

It was a hard month away from him; you won’t lie.

And knowing you almost lost him was even hard.

“Let’s go,” you finally replied. And the ride to the hospital was surprisingly calm.

The few times you saw Emily, you both kept chatting for hours to the point Hotch even laughed one day about fearing she might steal you from him. But this time, there were no words. Not only because of the stress, but also because you realized you were lying to your friend because of Hotch. You haven’t seen him in a month, having no idea about what his life might have been these past thirty days. And she was great at worming information out of you. So you would rather not say a thing instead of spilling a secret.

The whole drive to the hospital felt like a fever dream. And nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming feeling you got when you opened the door. A mix of relief and stress.

Hotch was there, indeed. Underneath a white sheet that made his skin look even paler, with dark circles bigger than the last time you saw him and a tired expression that made you wish you could do anything to let him relax and rest for at least a month.

He was facing the window and only turned his head when he heard you coming in. And the confusion replaced the tiredness on his face. Yet, you still noticed the short smile that drew on his lips when he saw you. “What are you doing here?”

His tone was sweet. Sweeter than usual. No matter how down he was, Hotch took everything in him to make you feel welcome. He didn’t want you to question your presence here or to think he was questioning it. He was glad to see your face after the awful day he had. Yet, he was still wondering why you came. After a month apart, he thought you put him aside.

Deep down, Hotch had the feeling he was easy to forget. But you weren’t. You never felt his head or his heart.

You didn’t answer his question. You couldn’t even talk. You were just focused on the silhouette of the man that shared your life these past months, lying on this hospital bed, looking so fragile.

You walked to him, as close as you could. So close that your knees bumped in the bed without you realizing it. You couldn’t resist the need to brush his hair, putting away some strands that were on his forehead. His confused and drained eyes follow each one of your moves.

“Honey?” he asked again, reaching for your hand.

When you were together, not a day went by—except for those when he was away—where you wouldn’t hold hands. In the morning, when he was getting up, you tried to keep him with you a little longer. During breakfast, while he was drinking his coffee. When he said goodbye, kissing you before putting a kiss on your entangled hands. Or when you went to sleep, cuddling, with your hands on your stomach—or his, when he needed it after a rough day.

“You didn’t tell them we broke up,” you said in a low voice. It was the first time you said it out loud but also realized what it meant. And having Hotch in front of you, calling you by the nickname that followed you your whole relationship and caressing your hand with his thumb softly, helped see the truth behind that. “Emily came and picked me up because I’m your emergency contact, and I wasn’t answering my phone, and as your girlfriend, she assumed I needed to know. Because you didn’t tell anyone we weren’t together anymore.”

You finally landed your eyes on his, losing yourself in his baffled puppy look. “You’re right, I didn’t.” Hotch said. It was the first time since you came in that you noticed his voice was a little raspy. “And I’m glad it led you here.”

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, not that you doubted he meant it. Over a year, you’ve learned to recognize Hotch’s expression. Especially the way his face was always softer when he was with you. Or how his very stoic and linear mouth always curled up in a smile around you.

Still, you had one question on your tongue. “Why?”

“Why am I glad?” he replied with a giggle. One that was sadly followed by a grimace. You watched as Hotch brought his other hand to his stomach to ease the pain. The doctor told him that even with the medicine, it would take him multiple days to get better. And until the stitches were gone, he wasn’t allowed to go back on the field.

But suddenly, the idea of being stuck at his office or at home wasn’t as awful as it was when he first thought about it.

You sighed, focusing on his face rather than the wound he was clearly keeping hidden from you. “Why haven’t you told them?”

Hotch took a second to look at you. The answer was obvious to him, to the point that there wasn’t a question to begin with. Over this past month, there was not a moment where he thought he had to make things clearer about your situation. Sure, he was a very private man, yet he never lied about you. He just kept things as they were. “Because I didn’t want it to be over.”

Hotch sat up against the headboard and motioned to you to sit on the bed with him. He moved his legs to give you space. And the heat you felt when he held your hand tighter to help you reminded you of the obvious attraction you had for him. Even after he had a terrible day.

“Listen,” he started again with a tone that imposed on listening to him. That's not to say you weren't paying attention in the first place. “I know we made this decision together, and I respect it. And this month apart gave me the time to think about us.”

The first night coming home to an empty and silent house wasn’t easy for Hotch. He felt like he had failed again at keeping someone in his life. He hated that he lied to Jack, saying you had family obligations to explain your absence. He didn’t want his son to be disappointed about his dad's inability to maintain a great relationship.

And one day, Jack told him about a girl at school he had a crush on and everything he did to prove to her it was worth trying rather than giving up.

“I want to make things right with you.” Hotch pursued, bringing your hands to his chest. “Maybe I need to work on my perception of danger when it comes to you. And if so, I will do it. Because I want you.”

You always found it fascinating how his eyes often spoke louder than his words. And the look he was giving you right now was the best argument he could have found to prove you he meant it. Hotch loved you. And so did you.

When a smile started to grow on your lips, also a silent answer to his silent confession, you noticed his lips curved too. Hotch let go of your hand to bring his own to your neck and move your face closer to him. But you stopped right before your lips touched.

“Maybe you should just consider not getting hurt the next time we argue.” You whispered, which made him laugh.

“Right, I’ll think about that.” He replied before finally guiding you to his lips.

Hotch never stopped believing he would get you back. So maybe he was right about not telling anyone about the breakup.

798 notes · View notes

flamingpudding · 1 year ago

Text

His son's children

When Alfred looked into the security video of the front gates, he froze for a moment. Taking in the image of the two children there. One was a tall, red haired girl with a teal headband, confident but with a look of wary in her eyes. Behind the girl was a younger boy, black haired and wearing a NASA shirt, appearing to be reluctant like what they were doing was a bad idea. Alfred's stomach dropped just a little when he saw the boy and his familiar features.

A second later worry flitted accross his face, but still, because of protocol, he asked them for their reason for this surprise visit. No one expected any visitors this late, and Alfred knew if he looked over his shoulder, he would find one of the children snooping, trying to find out who their visitor could be.

Yet when he heard the girls request to see him, not Bruce Wayne, but him, Alfred Pennyworth, his stomach dropped even more. Knowing now for sure that he hadn't seen wrong with the boy's features. He buzzed them in, while his mind remembered old cherished memories of two you black haired toddlers playing together, growing up together until that one day. When he chose to stay and his significant other chose to leave. Sometimes, he wondered if Bruce still remembered the one that could have been a brother to him if things had gone different.

He doesn't regret his decision, but when he looked at the two worn-out children, no his own grandchildren, before him he mourned the fact that he had let his own son become astranged from him and Bruce. Having believed it to be the best with what Bruce had started to get up to.

But maybe it wasn't to late to make amends he thought as the young girl, clearly of the same vibes as Richard, like someone who had grown up to fast and taking on responsibilities that shouldn't be theirs, tried to explain that they won't call him grandpa if it made him uncomfortable and that they would only need a place to stay for a couple of days before they could move on.

Alfred's heart broke for them as he listened to the girls, Jasmine's hurried explanation.

During her explanation, he studied them more closely. Marveling at how much the boy, Daniel, looked like him when he had been younger. But also noticing the clear signs of injury he was trying to hide. He suppressed a huff, years of taking care of his reckless charges and other grandchildren, and their wounds had made him an expert in spotting these things. But it also gave him a sickening feeling. The injuries Daniel tried to hide did not appear like your average kind of injuries.

They were going to stay, Alfred would make sure of it and he would also let Bruce know of his findings. There was clearly more to his grandchildren sudden appearance than Jasmin was willing to explain.

Whatever endangered his grandchildren from his own estranged son. He would ensure that nothing would hurt them ever again.

His granddaughter did not need to list reasons to convince him to let them stay for a couple of days. And his grandson did not need to look this cautious and wary of him like someone was going to attack him any second.

Alfred was going to give them a home if his son couldn't. And if Bruce had a problem with it, he could take it up with his children. Clearly, if he looked over his shoulder at the noisy little ones, all of his other grandchildren could see that these two before him needed a home to stay.

Besides from the looks of it, they would fit right in with this family.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #alfred pennyworth #jazz fenton #the fentons are about to expirence tha familial love the batfam shares with Alfred #jazz and Danny are Alfreds actual grandchildren #jack is alfreds son who went estranged #the fenton siblings needed help #and a place to temporarily stay #jazz found information on their grandfather #danny still things thats a bad idea #well alfred was not about to let his grandchildren go now that they sought him out #prompt idea #random early morning thoughts #feel free to use

2K notes · View notes

xazse · 1 year ago

Note

not rlly a request or anything but if you see that way feel free to ignore <33 but... I'm CRAVING more of your genius thoughts on loser satoru...

OFC OFC PART ONE HERE

Loser Satoru has gotten kinda bold lately, he’s been practically begging for your pussy, the first time he asked you resisted the urge to burst out laughing, Satoru? You know how this goes, you give a loser a taste of pussy and he’ll lose himself, walking around campus spilling it to everyone that you opened your legs for him.

Loser Satoru who somehow gets you to sneak somewhere behind a building with him for a make out session. He’s a terrible kisser: trying to shove his tongue in your mouth so early instead of gradually moving into it. Everytime you pull away he’s open mouthed panting and if you look a little closer strings of saliva are present on his chin. He’s desperate with the way he’s also palming his cock, just from a little kissing he’s fully hard.

Loser Satoru who gets thrown a bone and takes it, you’ve decided to take it a step further and let him dry hump you: and it’s only because you feel bad for him, you’ll probably be the only girl who will touch or even get near him.

You’re positioned on your fluffy bed lying down on your stomach whilst Satoru is above you hovering over your ass with his knees on both sides of you, he relaxes a little on the back of your knees. You’ve decided on wearing your cutest black panties, a little lacy and definitely sexy, probably too much for his virgin mind to handle by the way he’s staring.

He reaches out and grabs the fat of your ass, it’s so soft in his hand. He drags his hand over the hump of your ass and slides them near your cunt:

“Don’t you dare Toru’” you scold him, he lets out a disappointing sigh but does remove his hand in favor of gripping your ass again.

You hear his belt unbuckling and a zipper being undone. In the next couple of seconds you feel something warm touch the exposed part of your ass cheek. He starts slow when he begins rubbing the tip of his cock against you, already low groans leaving his throat. After a few moments of him warming up he’s now full on humping you, his wet precum smearing against you with every thrust forward.

Your ass is bouncing and Satoru’s head is dizzying this feels so much better than his hand, his balls are tightening and everytime he grips them for added stimulation his entire being shivers, to be honest it was feeling good for you too. You spread your legs a little so his cock starts to bump against your pussy, Satoru can feel the wet fabric of your panties and it’s further ruining him. Satoru suddenly leans down and has his stomach on your back, head tucked into your neck.

“m’ cumming… oh-shit” he sobbed out, he spasms and coats the inside of your thighs with his cum.

Loser Satoru who you allow to finally after eternity fuck you properly, after all the foreplay is done he’s sliding his fat cock in your cunt, you can’t believe the words slow down are coming out of your lips, especially towards him. You’re wet and hot as he snuggly fits in, you won’t let up with your clenching down on him and it’s not helping at all when it comes to cumming inside you prematurely.

Gojo isn’t nice when he begins fucking you, he feels like he’s not in control of his hips, he’s slamming his cock straight into you over and over. Your messy cunt is so loud, but he’s even louder with his obnoxious moaning,

Gojo isn’t nice when he begins fucking you, he feels like he’s not in control of his hips, he’s slamming his cock straight into you over and over. It’s tantalizing the way your cunt looks as it’s sucking him in and out.

“So.. good, mhhn..” he manages to choke out, Satoru knew that from the porn videos he frequented that him being balls deep in a girl would feel good but he couldn’t image just how fucking amazing it feels, his body is feverish and aching. He looks at where you’re connected again and sees your cum and his cum mixing at the base it’s leaking and making a mess on the both of you.

“Ohm- Toru’ feels s’good” you cry from underneath him, you begin rubbing your soaked clit back and forth, it makes everything taste much more delicious. You’re so close as Gojo continues pounding deep within you. Your stomach starts to turn and twist, feeling weird you try to tell him to stop for a moment but all that leaves your lips are more moans.

With another deep thrust you squirt, soaking your bed, and Satoru. Satoru doesn’t acknowledge it instead he convulses himself and forces his cock the deepest it can go, and cums right inside of you.

He falls right ontop of you, and light snores can be heard shortly after, it’s hard to fight the sleepiness you’re feeling as well so you give in.

#zsworks #fem reader #gojo x reader #loser gojo #jjk x reader #satoru x female reader #gojo x f!reader #gojo smut #satoru smut #afab gojo x fem reader #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru gojō x reader

1K notes · View notes

sports-on-sundays · 6 months ago

Text

McLaren hat / OP81

Summary: Oscar x girlfriend!reader - You never realised how much pressure would come from simply being a Formula 1 WAG, and start to go a little bonkers with all the PR.

Warnings: I don't remember if Abu Dhabi was hot this season (probably like wasn't at all) but just pretend it was okay?, stress, kind of low self image, anxiety, taking great lengths just to feel accepted

Requested?: No

"Hey Y/n- whoa." As soon as Oscar looks up from his phone at you, his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up.

You watch as he looks you over, and immediately say, "Does it look alright?"

"Does it look alright?!" Oscar asks, standing up right away to be in front of you. "Y/n, you look gorgeous." He steps closer, taking your hands, looking at your tight, short black dress, leather boots, and (of course) the McLaren hat upon your head.

"You sure?"

"What do you mean, 'you sure?'?! Of course I'm sure!" he says with a little smile, his eyes returning back to your gaze. "But what made you decide to dress like a model today, anyway?"

You smile softly, glancing away, feeling comforted by his validation, before saying with a little shrug, "I don't know. Just felt like it." Most of the time, you just wear casual clothes: a McLaren shirt and hat, white jeans, and maybe sunglasses. So you can get how Oscar would be so shocked. You suppose you just weren't expecting this much of a reaction.

He brushes your cheek, saying, "You did your makeup differently, too, didn't you?"

"Yeah... is it too much?"

"Not at all. It's bold, but I like it."

You nod with a little relieved sigh. "You sure?"

He nods confidently. "Positive."

"Oh, good," another little smile creeps up on your face. "That's good to hear. Well, I guess I should leave you to your duties now, Oscar. See you later!" you begin to turn around to leave, but he suddenly grabs your hand to pull you back.

He gives you a quick kiss on your cheek and mutters, "Have fun, beautiful," before letting go of your hand again and letting you walk off.

"Oh! Oscar! Don't you think I would look pretty in this...?" you ask excitedly, tugging his hand, holding up a top on a clothes hanger. It's been two hours already of you dragging Oscar from store to store, buying and trying on clothes, simply because you wanted to apparently 'get more nice clothes to wear to F1 races,' and Oscar hasn't had the heart yet to suggest finishing up.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I think you would..." he says, a bit distant, before snapping back into it and saying, "But red's not really your color. Not that you don't look good in it. You look good in everything you wear. I'm just saying-"

"No, no, I get it... I just remember Alex wearing something like this..."

"Alex?" Oscar asks, confused. "Alex who?"

"Oh, you know. Alexandra," when he just proceeds to look even more confused, you add, "Charles's girlfriend?"

"Oh..." Oscar nods as he realizes who you're even talking about, and shrugs, before saying after a few seconds, a bit confused, "Well, of course she'd be wearing red. She's Ferrari."

You crinkle your nose. "Do you really expect me to wear bright orange, Oscar?"

He snorts and says, "No. All I'm saying is that maybe she just wears red for Ferrari. I don't know, I'm not paying attention to her. I only pay attention to you, and though I think you look beautiful in red or not, either way, all I'm saying is that it's just not your color. Besides, you told me to be honest at the beginning of all this. I'm just trying to do what you want me to do. But in then end, I don't really care what you wear; you look amazing either way."

You frown, and suddenly groan, "I wish I looked good in red!"

Oscar smiles, still a bit confused at this complaint. "Why?" he asks earnestly.

You shrug, glancing back down at the shirt. "I dunno. Because Alex looks so good in red."

Oscar cocks his head a bit, apparently still not really understanding. "Who cares what Alexandra looks good in? Because I certainly don't."

You sigh, getting a bit exasperated. "I don't know! I guess I'm just trying to look pretty on the paddock, but I look sucky in all the lovely styles that everyone else always wears!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Oscar says, his hand immediately going to your shoulder. "First of all, you never, ever look sucky, no matter what you're wearing. Second of all, in my opinion, you're always the prettiest in the paddock, no matter who's there. And third of all, who says you have to wear the styles everybody else is wearing? I think your current style is perfectly lovely and fine and beautiful, but even if you do want to change it up, you can find your own. Or invent your own. You don't have to copy Alexandra, or whoever else."

But you only hear half of what he's really saying, and register nearly none of it, and the moment he stops talking, you hold up yet another red top (that honestly doesn't really look that different to Oscar), and say, "How about this one? It's a different shade," holding it up to yourself.

Realizing that this really isn't a battle he's going to win, Oscar just sighs, smiles, and nods, saying, "Actually, yeah. I like the fit would be good. And this color suits you a bit more, too." To him, it looks like the exact same color.

You grin, seeming much more pleased, "Oh, good! Can I go try it on?"

Oscar sigh a bit, smiling and shaking his head, murmuring, "M-hm, sounds good. Can't wait to see it on you, beautiful."

As you walk off to the changing room, Oscar thinks he hears you murmur something about how 'maybe you should just go more for Carmen's style.' Oscar's eyebrows just scrunch together at that, and as he sits down outside the changing rooms to wait for you to come show him, all he can think is, Maybe that's just the way girls are, and I really don't understand them after all.

The excitement of having some of the prettiest girls in the paddock complimenting your outfits is almost too much. The girls that you admire so much.

The ones that handle the fame and attention so well.

You feel like you're already doing better with all that stuff. Once you're convinced you look good, which usually takes at least a half hour of switching outfits, at least twenty reassurances from Oscar, and at least one outside person complimenting your appearance, you feel like a different person.

Like you could conquer the world!

Well, Oscar's not a very sensitive person, nor overly perceptive. It doesn't bother him that you seem to be a bit preoccupied. Not really. Sure, there are some times he wishes you were around when you're not, like you used to be, but he doesn't take it personally. He wants the best for you. And if the best of you is to distance yourself a bit in order to find yourself, or whatever you're doing, he trusts you. As long as you keep saying there's nothing wrong, and you're all good, he'll keep being the first person to believe it.

He just keeps sort of ignoring his intuition telling him that something is just off. Because you're not just growing. It's almost as if you're changing into a new person. Not the girl he asked out years ago. Not the girl he's fallen in love with. On the outside, on the paddock, in public, with all the cameras on you, you seem like the bubbly, friendly perfect type of girl with everything all right. You've never really been that type. Of course, you've always been happy, and to him, you're just perfect. But you've never been so camera hungry and extroverted like you seem to be now. You seem so confident in yourself, it almost seems fake. Though Oscar would never dare consider that thought anymore. It's just that in private, you seem to be the polar opposite of that: tired, quiet, let down. It's like the balanced girl he knew that was consistent nearly all the time has just switched to opposite extremes in different situations. And, well, Oscar has no idea why. He'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't concerned.

But he also can't see any way it'd be right to bring it up.

He just kind of misses the way it used to be. The way you used to be.

"Oscar!" his thoughts are suddenly interrupted by your voice and your footsteps entering the room. It's the early morning before he has to head to the paddock to begin the last race weekend of the season, and he's been laying in bed on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for you to get out of the hotel bathroom so he can have a quick shower.

"Yes?" Oscar asks, setting his phone down as you enter the room. You enter the room to show him your clothes, feeling slightly nervous, and unsure, like countless times before.

You twirl in your outfit, which consists of a white strapless top, dress pants, and black high heels. "How do I look?"

This has been going on for months, now. Probably about half the season. And in that moment, it just kind of snaps in Oscar's brain, and without thinking, and without being supportive like he always is, he decides that today, he's going to be honest. "Well, you look gorgeous. As always, of course, Y/n." He sits up and slips off the bed, before continuing practically, "But how thick are those pants? It's supposed to be killer hot today, and I'd hate for you to cook in those. I mean, they do make you look killer hot. They do look nice. And the high heels are lovely, but you always talk about how much your feet hurt after wearing those. Especially out on the paddock? And," he adds, reaching you, so he's nice and close to you, before picking up his McLaren cap off the hotel nightstand and sticking it on your head, "When did you stop wearing this hat, hm? I always thought you looked adorable in it."

You stare at each other for a few seconds, as if neither of you were expecting all that to come out of Oscar's mouth.

But what happens next is about the last thing Oscar would expect.

You take the hat off your head, throw it at his feet, turn on your heel, and walk straight out of that hotel room.

It all happens so fast, Oscar doesn't even have a moment to register what just happened and call you back before the door shuts behind you.

Ten unread messages from Oscar, and you don't even know why you're so mad, but the last thing you want to do right now is see him.

The first thing you want to do is think through it. Convince yourself he's wrong, and you're right.

He wants me to be a certain way for some reason, and it bothers him that I'm becoming who I want to be? So he just likes an ordinary girl with ordinary looks and ordinary fashion and an ordinary personality?

The truth is, you have no idea why he'd want that more than what you're trying to be.

Maybe he's just controlling? He just wants control over what you wear and how you act? But for the years you've dated him, he's never displayed qualities like those.

Then what is it? your brain screams, and for some reason, tears begin to fill your eyes.

And that's when a whisper of a thought dares to say, Doesn't Oscar want the best for you?

Is doing all this really the best for you?

But all the PR and popularity with fans it's brought you... it's so... validating.

But also so exhausting.

And when you come home at the end of the day, don't you want nothing more than to just take that mask off and destroy it?

You know how fake it is. It's like you work every day to make your mask become your face, but that will never happen, and that's painful.

You were happier before, but your outward 'success' was, like, close to nothing.

Do you really want this?

Can you even give up now?

With all the validation from the fans and media?

Maybe Oscar was a bit much today in the hotel. He was. But maybe he had a point, too...

It's like you can't stop. You keep it up for the rest of the weekend, even to Oscar, now, pretending everything is okay, and it's too much.

But you can't stop.

At the end of the weekend, though, after it's all said and done and you've had enough and all you want is to go to sleep and let your dreams sweep you away, everything in you wants to break down.

You need to be alone.

You need to be alone so you can finally be real.

And, of course, when you walk into the hotel room, there Oscar is, sitting by the window.

Just looking out of it.

"What are you doing?" you demand in slight confusion.

You see him look at you in the reflection of the glass. He doesn't even turn around.

Is this all I am now? Merely a reflection in the glass of the person I was to him?

"Looking out the window, and you?"

"That's all?"

He nods, before finally glancing back at you. Showing you his real, handsome face.

It's late, so late.

He just won his driver's championship, and all you want to do is fall apart.

Why isn't he more happy?

Probably just tired.

And here you are, with your nerve, saying, "Oscar, would you mind leaving?"

You see his eyes flash in confusion in the glass. Fear, even, maybe for just a second. He stands up and faces you, his hands going to your shoulders. "Leaving?"

"Just for... a bit."

"Why?" he demands.

"I need some alone time."

He stares, his eyes softening further, before murmuring, "Since when have you ever asked me for that? How many times have we been alone together?"

"Aren't I allowed some privacy, Oscar?"

"Isn't your whole life privacy, by now, Y/n?" It's not an accusation. It's a desperate question, that you have no answer to.

Because you don't want to say yes, but you can't say no. "Please, Osc..." you murmur, trying to keep it together. "I need this time."

"Darling..." he whispers, like a silent prayer.

Your stomach lurches. Why is he calling me that?

Doesn't he only talk like that when he needs me?

"Oscar, listen..."

"Please..." he whispers. "Let it go. At least for me. Don't you see this isn't good for you?"

"Oscar, I-" your voice cracks.

He sighs. "We don't have to talk. We don't have to lay together, or sit together, or be next to each other. We could be on completely opposite sides of the room as each other." He gulps, before adding, "Just let us be alone together. Like we used to always be, when it hurt, and we needed alone time, but we knew we'd both always be there when the other needed it. It's starting to feel so lonely out here without you, darling..." he stroke your cheek gently.

You gulp, fighting back tears.

"Take off those shoes, go put on your pajamas. Just relax, beautiful. Let your cover fall. I don't ever want to forget the you you are without it."

"Do you want me to cry?"

"Never."

"Then why-"

"Because I'd rather you cry if you need to than hold it in and let it rot the inside of you, love."

Love.

"That's the first time you've ever called me that..." you murmur as you slowly lean against the bed to slip off your shoes.

He smiles softly, which surprises you.

You quickly slip on pajamas, before crawling into bed, and murmuring, despite yourself, "Can you come over?"

And in seconds, Oscar's crawling into bed next to you, tucking the two of you in.

"Hold me."

"It's my pleasure," he responds softly, gently pulling you into his chest.

You lay there like that for a while, before whispering, your voice so weak, "Oh, God, Oscar... I'm so, so tired."

"I know you are, darling. I know." He kisses the tops of your head.

Your voice cracks a bit, and this time, you let the tear fall. "I just... I just felt like maybe I should've... been more like them. I'll admit it, I got jealous."

Oscar strokes your hair.

You swallow. More tears fall. "I just guess I felt like I wasn't good enough, but they all were."

"Good enough for what?"

You stare, the question lingering like a germ in the air. "For the media. For the fans. For every single person watching me every single race weekend."

He kisses your nose. "Pressure got to you. Did you ever feel like you weren't good enough for yourself?"

You swallow, shrugging. Nod a bit.

He sighs softly, nodding. Takes your hand and begins whispering, "I want you to know. You're worthy of every single kiss, every single hug, every single sigh, every single tear. You're worthy of every single star in the sky, every single drop in the ocean. You're worthy of laughter and sunshine and so, so much love. You're worthy of..." Oscar trails off, suddenly feeling an unexpected wave of emotion hit himself, before he gains his grip once more again and continues with, in merely a soft whisper, "You're worthy of all the joy and goodness in with world. And you'd know that if you knew how much joy and goodness you project into the world, without even trying, without even thinking about it." He swallows to keep his voice from cracking, and finishes with, "Please know, no matter what happens, or whatever anyone says, I'll always love you for who you are. I'll always be here to be your home. I want you for everything you are, and nothing that you feel you've ought to be. Because to me, you're perfect just the way you are. That is the kind of worth you have, and I wish you could see that, too."

The moment the last beautiful whisper of a word exits his mouth, you break down, fall into him, and cry. And he whispers about wiping away every single one of your tears, because you deserve none of the pain you're going through.

The fact that you've done all this, and brought it on yourself, and hurt him, and he stills says this.

Once your tears have subsided, Oscar smiles a bit, looking into your eyes like you're the most beautiful sunrise, or sparkling dew fresh in the morning, or the glimmer of the sun on the ocean, or any other beautiful thing that could fascinate even the coldest of people. And he whispers, wiping away the last of your stray tears, "Dress for no one but yourself, love. Be who you are. Because whatever you want to wear, you'll stun me. And I love you for exactly the person you are, nt the person you feel you ought to be. Whether you're in an evening gown with the most beautifully done makeup, or in your pajamas with tangled up hair, to me, you'll always, no matter what, be the most gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, perfect woman I have ever set my eyes upon."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Oscar, you..." You're utterly speechless.

He holds you close, and for the first time in months, you feel a certain peace envelop you.

You feel like you're home again.

Maybe all you needed was a good cry and the most perfect boyfriend any girl could ask for.

As your exhausted body gives itself away to slumber you hear Oscar murmur after gently kissing your scalp, "Can't wait to see you in my McLaren hat again, darling."

And you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

436 notes · View notes

cloudyskydreams · 8 months ago

Text

S/O wearing their clothes! UT,UF,UF,HT

Thought this was a cute idea actually got inspired from the last request but decided to make it its own thing. Small little drabbles and two posts for the day I feel accomplished! As always hope y'all enjoy!

Undertale:

Sans:

The rare occasion his jacket is to get washed and you pull it out of the dirty laundry to wear it. It smells like pine and ketchup and you relax into the smell as you stand in your shared bedroom. A chuckle from behind you has you spinning around and you see and amused Sans staring at you through lidded eyes. "was wondering what the jacket was in here" he puns and you smile as he steps closer pulling you into him. "you look cute starlight, you should wear my clothes more"

Papyrus:

It was a brisk autumn day and the air outside was cold enough to make goosebumps rise in your skin. You had only brought a jacket to the outing with your bonefriend and were regretting not bringing mittens or a hat or something of the like. Papyrus noticing how cold you were took off his scarf and wrapped it around your neck, it's a large comfy scarf too. "HERE YOU ARE SWEET PEA DONT WANT YOU GETTING COLD." He thinks you look just perfect in his signature scarf and plans to make you one similar.

Underfell:

Red:

Red had taken his jacket off while working on your car and you being the grateful partner decided to give him a little show when he got back. Slipping on a pair of booty shorts you know he drools over you in and his jacket you pose on the couch and wait for him to come in. It takes a bit and you end up scrolling on your phone but his reaction is priceless. He drops he tool in his hand and his mouth is open in shock as he takes in sight of you. "fuck sweetheart you don't know what you do to me," he growls as he practically pounces on you.

Edge:

Edge had left his clothes on the bed while he hopped in the shower after a long day and you saw your opportunity to try on his prized cape. You chuckle and slip the thing around your neck before impersonating the loud skeleton. He of course finishes much quicker than you anticipated and can't even pretend to be mad when he sees you parading around pretending to be him in his cape. He knocks on the doorframe and smirks upon seeing you're shocked face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING PET?" he questions a fire in his eyes as he steps closer to you and pulls you flush against him by his cape. He enjoys seeing you in his clothes as it's sort of a way for him to mark you as his. He also thinks you just look great in his clothes.

Underswap:

Blue:

You had stolen blues bandana and had decided to center your entire outfit around the little piece of cloth as a little surprise for him. You dressed up a little and put on the bandana before getting to work on breakfast. About ten minutes later a sleepy Blue exited the room half dressed and rubbing his eyes. "LOVE HAVE YOU SEEN MY— oh…" He takes in the sight of you before smirking. "ISN'T THIS A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES, DRESSED UP ALL FOR ME?" He waltzs over and kisses you while adjusting the bandana. He really enjoys the look and might ask to twin with you in the future.

Stretch:

Stretch had simply switched out what hoodie he had worn that day and you had snatched his signature orange one when you had the chance. "aww honey don't you look cute," He snaps a picture upon seeing you and chuckles as he sends it to Blue ranting about how cute his s/o is. He definetly leaves clothes out more often for you to find and wear. He might doodle you in his hoodie in his free time the image is stuck in his mind.

HorrorTale:

Axe:

He takes his jacket off occasionally and forgets where he puts it. Was actually coming to ask if you had seen it when he found you wear it, and lemme tell you it dwarfs you. Let's out a little "…oh" and his eyelights dilates to fill his whole socket as he stares at you for a few seconds. Thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen and occasionally will simply take his jacket off and dump it on you because he enjoys your smell on it.

Willow:

His scarf is pretty torn and he wears it mostly out of sentimentality when he does. He has a new one but this one just holds so many memories he can't get rid of it even if alot of those memories are bad. You slip it on after finding it one day poking around the house, he finds you wearing it and he doesn't really react. "Hello Dearest I See You've Found My Old Scarf," He ruffles your hair and tells you the story of how he first got the scarf. Gently folds it and puts it up when you're done wearing it. He's happy to let you wear his other clothes too and as he's a giant they're all pretty huge on you and he thinks that's cute.

619 notes · View notes

uravitypng · 1 year ago

Text

𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: bakusquad x chubby reader (katsuki bakugo + hanta sero + mina ashido + eijiro kirishima + denki kaminari)

word count: 4.4k words

a/n: definitely haven't been working on this for months <33 this turned out more fluffy than intended for a free use fic asdfghj. basically they all need to be dating!!! none of the bakusquad have any contact with each other... yet... idk i might make a part two where they're not just taking turns but all together with the reader

content warnings: free use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving & m!recieving), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, groping, biting, dumbification, slight breeding mention, somno, wlw, spanking, petnames - mdni (like my whole tumblr)

when becoming friends and roommates with the bakusquad you didn't realise what it would exactly entail. becoming friends with five successful pro heroes while you're a civilian is something you would never expect, not in your wildest dreams, so it's not a surprise to you that your feelings for them grew with each day and after a particular turn of events you let them use you however they wanted. if they want to take out their frustrations of a stressful day by roughly fucking you than you're more than willing to oblige to their request or if they want to tenderly make love to you after an emotional and exhausting day you're more than willing to oblige- you're their toy after all.

they'll use you anywhere and anywhen, it doesn't matter if you're in public or if you're sleeping, you've given them your full consent.

the first time it happened was with katsuki. he was angry and annoyed and you didn't know what to do, you've never truly seen him like this before and you haven't been friends with him as long as the others have been friends with him, you didn't want to make it worse. ideally you would ask the others what you should do but they were all busy working.

you later found out a journalist cornered him after a minor rescuing incident and asked him more intrusive questions than normal and that day it got to him more than normal too. for some reason the press always seems to ask him more personal questions than other heroes you know and you can't figure out why but you have a few ideas: to see his reaction, to get more information about his private life from him because he's one of the more secretive heroes, or to see his 'real' personality wondering if everything they see in public is all just an image.

"i'm sorry katsuki. is there anything i can do to make you feel a bit better?" you ask him and in less then ten seconds he's pinned you against the wall and is biting your bottom lip making you moan, giving him the opportunity to move his tongue into your mouth, intertwining your tongues and muffling any surprised noises that threaten to come out of you. you feel his large callus palms run all over your body as he pushes up your shirt and touches every single part of his skin he can get his hands on, leaving bruises and pretty marks to decorate your equally pretty body.

katsuki shoves his hand underneath your underwear, not bothering to take off your clothes and fingers you until you start screaming his name and your vision begins to go blurry.

"holy shit katsuki. feel's so good." he pumps two of his thick fingers inside of you and his ego soars as he not only feels how wet you are but hears it too as your cunt squelches and you clench around his fingers. he smirks as you come undone on his fingers chanting his name over and over again, your fists gripping onto his shirt tightly.

"this'll make me feel better," he grunts and tries to press his body closer to yours than it already was, your tits now completely pressed against him. "god shitty woman how oblivious can ya be? swear you're useless sometimes. a fucking dumbass." if you were someone else you might have taken offence to him calling you shitty woman or useless especially in the position you're currently in but you're use to him calling you names by now knowing he doesn't mean them negatively, if anything they're affectionate, most of the time he'll call people extras and you're glad he doesn't see you as an extra.

"oblivious?"

katsuki grits his teeth, "shut up," he grunts and you feel his hardened cock against your thigh, he slams his lips against yours again and starts kissing you even more furiously, if you didn't know better you'd say passionately but you don't think he'd ever kiss you passionately.

he sees your eyes glazed over with a daze on your face and smirks. his hand goes behind you to cups the curve of your ass then slaps with the sound echoing against the walls, making you whine. you feel the humidity that's resting on his palms and your whole body tingles imaging him using his quirk (controlled) on you.

"no one else has made ya feel this good have they sweetheart?" he asks gruffly already knowing the answer.

"no, no one else 'suki. no one has ever made me ever feel this good!" you reply honestly, tears starting to fill your waterline.

he knows you're being honest and if anything you're being more forgiving of your previous sexual encounters and talking more favourable about your past sexual partners than they deserve. "fuckin' criminal."

after what happened with katsuki you sat down with your friends and told them that you give them your consent to use you whenever. katsuki looked so much calmer after and his body looked more relaxed, less tension. you couldn't help but think that your other friends would be the same.

you were bashful the whole time while speaking, mumbling and looking away, your whole face felt like it were on fire but you were offering to help them all, you knew how stressful their work is and you wanted to help.

you want them, you wouldn't tell them that part though, neither did you ever have to think hard on your proposal.

all of them loved the idea, why wouldn't they? they're madly in love with you. over time all of them fell in love with you but none of them would ever make a move on you not willing to lose or jeopardise the friendship they have with you nor are they willing to make a move while knowing how the others feel about you either. you're sweet, and kind, and beautiful, and brilliant, and a hundred million more things that make you special in their eyes.

none of them thought they would ever get the chance to be with you in any such way, romantic or sexual, and they were more then content with being your friend, strictly platonic, but now they get to be your friend and they get to sleep with you, they're ecstatic.

hanta likes cockwarming with you, every single chance he gets he pulls you onto his lap and onto his cock without warning and puts on a movie to watch as he watches you squirm and try to keep still but it's so hard keeping still when the longest dick you've ever seen is inside of you and you feel it throbbing.

hanta sees you struggling and grins as you shift around and whimper quietly. you're biting your hand to try to keep silent but it's ineffective. "hush princesa, i'm trying to watch the film." he says teasingly, holding onto your plush waist to keep you from moving and lifts up your top, caressing your soft skin making you get goosebumps from the sensation of his cold rings touching you.

occasionally he'll lazily thrust up into you, making you squeak, he'll chuckle at the noises you make and get off on how needy you are for him. "you look so beautiful sitting on my lap mi amor," your heart flutters and your face heats up whenever he calls you affectionate names in his first language and especially when he calls you my love, "but aren't you suppose to be pleasing me? you seem very needy and demanding for someone who has offered their body to me." you shudder as he speaks, still with his hand caressing your body.

you look at him and pout, causing his grin to widen. "not my fault, you feel really good."

hanta's voice drops lower and becomes husky while he leans closer to you, "yeah?"

you nod your head and try to wrap your arms around him, admittedly unsuccessfully from the position you're currently in as you're facing away from him to 'watch' the movie with him, making hanta chuckle. "yeah," you reply.

hanta smirks as he looks down at you over your shoulder and tenderly strokes your arm, "beg me to move." with no hesitation you beg.

with everyone else they'll take what they want from you and get you to come as many times as they want (if they do want you to cum) without you having to beg but hanta is different, he'll make you cry and beg for him. no matter how horny he is he'll wait for you to become putty in his hands as you cry buried in the crook of his neck, trying to grind against him and wetting his shoulder with your tears, pleading for anything he gives you. he loves seeing you cry for him and plead for his cock.

you're always so pliant for him and he likes to make you even more pliant. as your reward for listening to him he grabs your wide hips and starts to move you up and down, harshly, making the ability to breathe leave your body momentarily at the sudden movement all while cooing at you, albeit condescendingly. "awe does that feel good princesa? you finding it hard to take it all?" he grins as you tip your head back and rests it on his shoulder, your moans getting louder, unable to respond and form a coherent sentence.

you feel like you feel him all the way in throat, a completely impossible thought of course but it's hard to think otherwise with each time he slams you back down and your pelvis meets his it's making you lose every braincell you have with how good you feel and how good he fills you up.

"open up," you compliantly open your mouth still in a daze and hanta spits in your mouth, grinning as he watches you swallow it without any prior audible command to do so already knowing from previous liaisons.

his pace changes, every so often becoming quicker with shallow thrusts than back to a regular pace with deeper thrusts just to tease you and make you light headed, not knowing what to expect next. his groans become more audible and he grips onto you tighter, his blunt nails making a crescent imprint on your hips. "s-shit hanta i can't, too much."

"i thought you were my good girl. you were begging for me only awhile ago." he smirks, starting to get close.

"i am! i am your good girl, promise! just 's a lot."

he chuckles at your obedience, you really are his good girl, made for him- and the others.

but he does wonder if you're that obedient with them as you are with him.

he purposefully slows down his pace and wraps one arm around your supple middle keeping you bouncing and tilts your chin up to look at him with his other hand before placing a gentle chaste kiss on your lips.

mina seizes every opportunity to lay lingering wet kisses down your neck all the way to your chest. you get goosebumps as you feel her breath against your skin and feel the sticky lipgloss left over from her lips.

mina never wears lipstick but she's nearly always seen wearing lipgloss and they're always flavoured ones, enjoying the look of how the sticky remnant remains on your skin after being transferred from her lips and how you seemingly unconsciously swipe your tongue out over your own lips afterwards to taste the flavour that remains.

whenever a man comes onto her apparently not understanding the word 'no' she comes straight to you afterwards so she can feel you up and touch your soft body and curves. you're so much better than anyone else and she's so glad that you let her touch you however and whenever she wants.

beforehand when someone was so persisted that it grossed her out she still would come to see you, you were roommates and very close friends after all. mina would complain about them and you would listen and bash them because how dare they keep being so disrespectful, unable to be take a hint or handle rejection.

the entire time when mina used to talk about them she'd think about how soft your lips looked, how good her hand would look wrapped around your throat and how she wants to go down on you so bad that you pull her hair and more importantly squeeze your thighs together in between her head.

"such a sweet little thing for me," she tells you and kisses your ankle. you whimper and she opens up your thighs wider for now, wanting to get a good look at your pretty pussy. mina flicks her tongue up against your pussy lips making a shiver run down your spine before her tongue enters into your soaking hole, moaning at your taste and your aroma, making her dizzy in the process. you can't help but squeal and shudder at the sensation as her eyes gleam with every new noise you make. she removes her tongue from inside of you, the sweet taste still lingering on her tongue. she flicks her tongue up again, curling two fingers back into you and starts sucking on your clit.

the pleasure builds up inside of you with every curl of her fingers, "that's a good girl, come for me," mina mumbles against your clit and you squeeze your thighs with mina's head between them, not being able to stop yourself as you're about to come again for the third time in an hour.

"oh fuck, min-" the last syllable of mina's name is silenced in an inaudible groan as the coil in your stomach snapped and you unravelled where she helped to ride out your orgasm still between your doughy thighs.

now she gets her wish whenever she wants as she's able to look up to see how your voluptuous body shakes. she gets to feel how soft and warm your thick thighs feel wrapped around her head.

as you calm down from another intense orgasm you move to look at mina, "what about you?" hinting that you desperately want to return the favour.

she can see the neediness in your eyes and giggles. "i can't right now sweet pea, i've got to go to work."

"already?"

mina giggles again, "i'll be back soon babes then we can carry on from where we left off, okay?" she smiles brightly and takes her leave feeling equalling as needy as you but who can blame her when she spent the last hour pleasuring you and feeling your plump body underneath hers and getting you see your gorgeous face scrunched up in pleasure. mina doesn't mind the needy feeling though as the look on your face is worth it as she leaves because she knows when she comes back home you'll make her feel just as good as she made you feel.

eijiro works nights a lot of the time which means typically you get woken up by him. this means most nights you sleep with only a nightie on or a baggy pyjama shirt foregoing underwear or pyjama bottoms so eijiro doesn't have to worry about fiddling with any layers and pulling them down. the only exemptions about the clothes are when it's particularly cold that night.

after work he'll want to feel your soft body squish in between his fingers as he presses down on your malleable skin, groping you wherever he can get his hands on and pumping his girthy cock in his other hand a couple times, wanting to be buried in that sweet cunt that he loves so much so it's no surprise to you to be woken up to his grunts and gentle thrusts.

whenever you do wake up he feels guilty. he knows you need, and like your sleep and he never intended to wake you up so he strokes the sides of your body and softly tells you to go back to bed while kissing your temple.

sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but no matter the outcome of trying to get you to go back to sleep your body always has the same reaction, mewls and moans leaving your body involuntarily and you becoming more and more wet with each thrust that it's dripping down to your thick thighs.

the times when you don't fall back to sleep you don't move much, very much a pillow princess in those moments but that's what eijiro prefers. he likes looking after you and treating you like the princess you are. he enjoys doing all the work so when you do wake up all you can do is rub your eyes sleepily and moan louder while he tries to shush you because no doubt someone has to be up in a few hours for patrol.

"p-please," you whine but you don't know what you're begging for. eijiro knows though as he pushes the remaining inches of his cock inside of you, you both hiss, and he slowly and deeply starts moving in you. you grab hold of his muscular forearms and whine about the pleasurable stretch.

you turn your head to the side so your neck is bare. he knows what you want more than your tired words can mumble out so he turns your neck further to the side than you did to keep you still and bites down, not hard enough to cause serious pain and break your skin but enough to hurt slightly and cause you to gasp, your mind momentarily going blank and your hips to jerk up.

before you started sleeping with eijiro you didn't know you liked the sensation of getting bitten so much until he bit you to keep himself quiet while at a very lively party. normally he wouldn't mind people hearing how good he makes you feel and vise versa but there was a minority of people at that party who were all trying to make a new hero commission and he didn't want to to draw attention to you or him with those people, knowing what the last commission did. even though you are just a civilian he wants to make sure they stay well away from you but still that wasn't enough to drag you into an empty room and fuck you until you couldn't stand after seeing how beautiful you looked that night.

ever since then biting became involved in your sex life. eijiro knew he liked biting people before you, he enjoys the surprised gasps and how bodies move but with you it's completely different, it's on a whole new level with how plump your body is, it's like heaven. no matter where he bites you there's always some part he can sink his teeth into making your body beautifully buck up uncontrollably. the whole experience and sensation making him groan and the noises you always make in bed are like no over- ethereal, just like the rest of you.

when he hears the slapping sound of your two bodies making contact get louder and louder and sees the creamy ring left over from each thrust he has to hold onto you tighter, gripping hold of your love handles, enough to leave bruises, and looking up at the ceiling not wanting to cum yet. he knows as soon as he looks down at your cute face or perfect body he'll immediately orgasm so to try and make himself last longer he'll look up.

that on top of the quicker pace and him touching your clit, just the way you like it, makes you come. you clench around him and moan words incomprehensibly causing him to come too as he feels you get tighter around him.

"gonna clean you up in a second baby just let me stay inside you for awhile." at this point you're both falling asleep, he wraps his muscular arms around you tighter and manhandles your chubby body so you're laying on top of him, your arm on his chest and your face in his neck, the whole time making sure his dick doesn't accidentally slip out of you. even though you're semi conscious you know that you're going to be sleeping like this all night, both of you are too tired to move, with your last moments of consciousness being your slow blinks that you use to gaze up at eijiro admiring how handsome he is, you like when his hair is down after showering because without it being styled to be spiky you can see his roots coming through, red mixing with his natural black, even now when he's half asleep and ready for bed he looks just as handsome as he does at any fancy hero event he attends. "you feel too good to get up and leave and anyway i've got to plug you full, breed you properly to make sure it sticks." he mumbles against your forehead half asleep, drifting off only a minute or so after.

out of everyone denki is the one to touch you the most, if no one else is kissing you he's taking the opportunity to kiss you and hold you all over. he's the most emotional and vulnerable when it comes to sex too. he feels safe around you, to let his carefree persona down and to be sensitive and vulnerable, just staying fully in the moment with you.

the first time you slept together, you kissed his chest all the way to his hips making his hips buck up. he had wanted you so bad for so long and now he finally had you.

originally, you had stroked his cock for the first time and you heard a string of moans and it immediately turned you on more than you already were. as he got closer to his release he said breathy, "please don't stop, this will probably be the only chance i ever get to touch you." it had shocked you not realising that he felt that way but you didn't stop, doing what you were told, and knowing you were going to talk to him after.

not long after, he came and you threw your arms around him, arms wrapped around his neck and clinging onto him. he was still catching his breath, "do you really think this was a one time thing denki? i told you all before that i want to do this." he blushed and squished your cheeks, a habit he had picked up on doing recently at the time, you swat his hands away and giggle, denki smiles.

denki is also the most possessive which surprised you, if you thought anyone would be possessive your guess would be katsuki but it's really denki. he gets jealous when you spend more time with the others than you do with him and will want your attention. it's even more noticeable when it comes to other people who aren't in the bakusquad.

if you ever smile too cheerfully at someone, laugh too loudly at someone's jokes or if someone flirts with you he gets extremely jealous, you never flirt back though, you have everything you need and sometimes you don't even realise they were flirting in the first place.

at times like that denki is the most vulnerable. as soon as you both get home he's kissing you tenderly and holding you like fragile treasured glass in his arms. most of the time he takes you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed but this time he pushes your head down gently and you fall to you knees carefully. "do you need a cushion babe?"

your heart warms at how considerate he is. you look up at him and shake your head, "i'm okay," you smile up at him and you don't miss the way his cheeks are dusted pink. unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, along with his boxers that already are wet with precum leaking from his cock, you kiss his thigh and stare at his .

denki holds onto your head as you part your lips and open your mouth, taking him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and grab a hold of his thighs. he keeps his hips still no matter how much he wants to rut inside your wonderful wet and warm mouth. when his hips do occasionally buck it makes you gag before he corrects himself and pushes back against the wall trying to control himself not to pound up into you, he wants you to control the pace. the moans that he makes as you take him further only spur you on as your pace gets quicker and your nose presses against his lean stomach momentarily before having to leave and gasp for air. denki may not be as thick as eijiro or as long as hanta but he's still big, more than people would assume, he's bigger than average (only if slightly.) denki's arm rests of his head while he takes deep breaths.

"fuck babe that was-" you cut him off as you take him in your mouth again and wrap your lips around him and you hollow your cheeks once again. his moans and groans become more frequent and you can tell that he's about to come.

his grip get's tighter while resting on your head and his groans get deeper. "gonna come, you swallow alright babe." you hum in confirmation, "shit, shit, shit," his eyebrows pinch together and his hot cum sprays in ropes at the back of your throat and you mourn not being able to properly fully taste him. denki lifts you up by your elbows and when you come face-to-face you kiss his cheek, he's not satisfied with that though and he passionately makes out with you not caring that he just came in your mouth and is holding onto your plush waist while grinning against your lips. "bedroom." he whispers in your ear making you shudder at the demanding tone he used, not often does he use it but whenever he does... well it makes your whole body tingle.

3K notes · View notes