#please ask me about him im begging n pleading | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoon-kooks · 1 year

Text

paired & pierced | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.

⛓️word count: 5.3k

⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she's tight, he's big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: this is a request from @screamertannie !💖 im not used to writing dom/sub stuff but i tried!! paired & puppy-eyed is jungkook's pov✨

It’s become somewhat of a pre-class ritual for the gals to gather around your desk to discuss anything from the latest frat party hookups to guessing the lengths of your male classmates. The gossip doesn’t particularly interest you, and you’ve never once contributed to the cock talk. But who are you to tell them to leave you alone? If people naturally gravitate toward you, you should see it as a good thing.

“I heard that hottie Tim is single again,” Blue Hair Girl says, turning to you with the curious eyes of a true gossiper. “Y/N, you were hanging out with him at that party last weekend, weren’t you? Is he as big as they say?”

“Didn’t see it.” And you’re glad you didn’t. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when he approached you, but he kept pulling you in for PDA conveniently when his ex was in sight. He was clearly using you for something you want no part of. In the end, you let him off easy by saying you had to leave early to feed your fish (you don’t have any fucking fish).

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Blue Hair Girl and the others give you a few pouty frowns.

“Yep.” Not really.

“Well, speaking of hotties, I’ve been trying to get Hoseok’s attention for a week now,” Nose Ring Girl sighs. She suddenly grasps your hands and pleads, “Wait, Y/N, you’re friends with him, right? Think you can give me his number?”

You wouldn’t call Hoseok a “friend”—he’s more of an acquaintance you happen to be friendly with, much like everyone sitting around you. But you do have his number. You have a lot of people’s numbers on your phone even though you can’t match any of their names to their faces.

“Here.” You flash your phone screen with Hoseok’s contact info before Nose Ring Girl. Her eyes light up like fireworks.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re the best!” she squeals.

Toward the end of class, your professor announces something that makes your stomach turn.

“The midterm will be a partner project where you have to debug the code I assign to you and add on to it in a creative way,” she explains. “And because I’m nice, I’ll let everyone choose their own partners. Please let me know who you’ll be working with before taking off.”

You hate this. You’re surprisingly okay about the debugging part because the masochist in you kind of enjoys it, but you’re not okay with the partner part. When it comes to choosing partners, it never ends well for you. Because despite how many people you surround yourself with, you always struggle to find someone who chooses you before anyone else.

You’re no one’s number one.

This time is no different. The girls who were so happy to be gossiping at your desk an hour ago are partnering up with one another on the other side of the room. Among them, Nose Ring Girl doesn’t appear to have coupled up yet, so she might be your only shot. Besides, you did her a favor earlier by giving her Hoseok’s number. The least she can do is partner up with you.

“Y/N, guess what?” She skips over to your desk with a big fat smile on her face. “I just texted Hoseok, and he asked to partner up with me. It’s all thanks to you, babe!”

“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound so disheartened.

She gives you a quick hug before heading back to the boy you indirectly set her up with. You’re happy for her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck. Whether intentional or not, it feels like everyone who comes near you just wants something from you—love advice, a boy’s number, PDA to make their ex jealous, or even answers to the homework—which is fine to an extent. The problem is that people keep taking, and you’re tired of not even getting the bare minimum in return.

To top it all off, Big Tim is headed your way. Yes, you want a partner. No, it’s not going to be him. You’ll pick literally anyone else in the class over him. The question is: who else doesn’t have a partner yet? People are paired up left and right.

Except for maybe the boy sleeping in the seat right next to you.

“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed half-hurried voice. The boy doesn’t move an inch. Maybe he’s dead.

You hop out of your chair, stand in front of his desk, and tap on the wooden surface in front of his face. Still no response.

Aware that Big Tim is inching his way closer, you crouch down to hide as if that’ll buy you more time. The boy in front of you needs to wake up right now.

You reach toward his slumped-over body and peel off his hood. There’s a good chance he isn’t dead and just didn’t hear you because he had earbuds in or something. You hope.

No earbuds. But you do find something worth noting—a trail of empty piercing holes up his earlobe. You don’t know Jungkook all that well, but he’s been in a bunch of your comp sci classes and you’ve never seen any piercings on him. You’d remember something like that because you’re a huge sucker for boys covered in piercings and body art. All you remember is that he’s quiet and always gets the highest grades on exams because he’s a genius or whatever.

“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper into his ear and tap one of his fingers. A sleepy eye finally peeks at you. Thank god he isn’t dead. “Wanna be partners?”

He sits up slowly, adjusts his glasses, and looks around the classroom before turning back to your puppy eyes. “Sure, I guess.”

“Good, good,” you sing, scurrying back to your seat. Partner secured. Mission accomplished. Just in the nick of time.

“Y/N, still looking for a partner?” Big Tim asks at your desk.

“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry.” You give an apologetic smile. You really need to stop that. If you had just been brutally honest with him the other day at the party, he wouldn’t be here bugging you now.

“That kid asked you to be his partner?” He points a finger at “that kid” who appears to have gone back to sleep.

You nod even though you were the one who technically asked Jungkook.

“And you said yes?”

You nod again. Big Tim continues to stare as if he’s waiting for you to abandon Jungkook for him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole in the first place, you wouldn't be actively avoiding him like the plague. He had his chance.

After several awkward seconds, he finally backs off and Jungkook rises from the dead once more.

“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you,” Jungkook yawns as he fluffs his bedhead around. He looks so nice and toasty in that hoodie. No wonder why he falls asleep in class so easily.

“That’s not what he wanted.” He wanted to use you to hurt someone else. And you don’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.

“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” That’s just the illusion you’ve created. It feels so fake.

You shake your head. “Let’s just say, if a house were on fire and these people had a choice to save either me or one of their actual friends, I’d burn down with the house 10/10 times.”

“And who would you save?” he challenges you. That’s an easy question.

“No one.”

“Good answer.” The edge of his lips curves upward ever so slightly. “Alright, if it’s cool with you, I’ll just do the project myself and slap your name on it. Shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”

“Wait, I wanna contribute too, you know,” you argue. He might be a smartypants, but you’re not the type of person to slack off and make him do all the work. You wouldn’t be surprised if other people take advantage of him on group projects like this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t even bother with fake social interactions with peers the way you do. You admire him for that. “We should meet up and work on it together over the weekend.”

“I’m busy,” he says. Bullshit. You can tell when people make up excuses to get out of things because you’re guilty of it too. The difference is that Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat it with coverup stories like needing to feed your nonexistent fish. Why do you find that so attractive?

“Busy with what?” You flutter your eyelashes and challenge him the way he challenged you. The fact that you’re fighting over the right to help with the project is both silly and refreshing. Usually, it’s the opposite where you’re forced to plead with your group to pull their own weight. But here you are, practically begging the boy to let you do some coding with him. Him pushing you away is a huge turn-on.

“My newborn.” He says it with such a straight face that you take his word for it.

“You have a child?” Your eyes sparkle. That either makes him a young single dilf or a committed family man you probably shouldn’t be batting your eyes at. For everyone’s sake, you hope it’s the former. “If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?”

For a long while, he just blinks at you like you’ve said something horribly wrong. Oh no. Maybe he’s still with the kid’s mom and now he thinks you’re trying to invade their space and be some kind of homewrecker.

“I was just fucking with you…” he admits. Why does it feel like he has secondhand embarrassment from your gullible ass? It’s fine, though. You much prefer being gullible over the homewrecker angle. Then he inputs his number and address into your phone. “But if it makes you feel better, come babysit my kid tomorrow.”

The next day, you wake up a little earlier, dress a little cuter, and feel a little more excited than usual. You’re usually indifferent (if not stressed) about hangouts and parties, but Jungkook is different. It’s fun talking to him, and you don’t have to put on a fake smile around him. He’s even got that hot grumpy boy vibe that you’re determined to win over.

After knocking on his door, you wait for a good minute but there’s no response. Maybe he’s still asleep or butt-naked in the shower. You would’ve messaged him that you were on the way, but you were scared he might have second thoughts and cancel the meetup altogether. You’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened to you in your college career.

Just as you lift your fist to knock again, the door swings open. The boy who stands before you has a full sleeve of tattoos, too many piercings to count, a whole man bun, and a handsome face that looks exactly like Jeon Jungkook’s. You didn’t know he had an identical twin with a totally different style. If he wore glasses with a hoodie and took the man bun and piercings out, he’d literally be your quiet neighbor from coding class. It’s fascinating.

“Isn’t it common courtesy to give someone a heads-up before showing up at their door?” he says with his phone in hand. Same grouchy attitude though. You love it.

Wait. You suddenly remember all those mysterious piercing holes you discovered on Jungkook’s ear less than 24 hours ago.

“Why do you look like that?” You point a finger at him as if your question isn’t already rude enough. Maybe you should rephrase it. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”

“Maybe.” He lets you into his home, but you’re more concerned about all the sick art on his arm. If he ever rolled up his sleeves in class, you know you’d be too distracted to focus on the lecture. Perhaps that’s why he keeps it all hidden. He’s just looking out for you and your higher education. Yeah right.

“Why do you hide all of this at school?” You’re sure everyone would be coming to you for his number if they knew what he was hiding up his sleeve.

“Tattoos and piercings give people something to talk about,” he explains. “And I’m not really a fan of compliments or small talk.”

Oh. He’s aware of the physical and emotional impact his body art would have on anyone lucky enough to see it with their own eyes. Your poor body is already aching to see more.

“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” Or about how hot you find his lip piercing. You’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a lip ring. You’re feeling pouty all of a sudden so you bring out the puppy eyes again.

He studies the way you shamelessly work your charm on him, and you wonder if he picks up on the temptation in your pupils. “I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment,” he huffs, finally giving in.

You’re quick to wrap your eager paws around his arm and examine it like it’s your most prized possession. The problem is, he has way too many tatts and piercings to fit into a single compliment. You could write a whole essay expressing your love for each piece you see, and that doesn’t even include the ones still buried beneath his clothes.

“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” Funny how he’s acting all impatient and bothered by the “fondling” but doesn’t shrug you off of him. In fact, he was the one who lent you his arm in the first place!

“I wish I could see all of them.” That’s your compliment. Because you love the lusting implications behind it.

You flick your eyes up from his arm to his face, and sure enough, he’s got his eye on you as well. It’s almost a crime that it took this long for the two of you to come together like this. You’ve been neighbors in coding class for the past few weeks, and yet you were too busy with the popular crowd and he was too busy not giving a fuck about them. All you want to do now is make up for lost time.

The only thing that distracts you from the boy is a puffy tail minding its own business in the corner of your eye. When you look down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the tiniest fluffball dropping a mouse toy at your feet.

“Ooh kitty,” you squeal as you squat down to play with the pink-nosed darling. It’s so tiny it fits in the palm of your hand, and its meows sound more like squeaks. “Wait, is this the newborn you were talking about?”

Jungkook nods. “I found her about a week ago and she’s been a menace ever since. Especially in the middle of the night.”

“Is that why you’ve been falling asleep in class lately?” You like the thought of him scolding the kitten for zooming around at 4AM only to fall back asleep with her on his chest. You’ll take a cat dilf any day.

“Yeah. But it also doesn’t help that the professor never says anything important.” He picks up the mouse toy and drops it off with her stash of goodies including a pink bed, a pink blanket, and a pink bunny plushie. The kitten hops into the bed, cuddles up with her bunny, and has the boy cover her up with the blanket. What a spoiled little thing. “So what’s this project about again?”

“You’d know if you were listening!” Gosh, you can’t stand smart people who sleep through every lecture and still come out on top while you’re taking notes and working your ass off. You still want to fuck him though.

“I’m just fucking with you again.” He finally cracks a whole ass smile and it’s beautiful. You’re mesmerized by it as he scoots you over to the computer in his room. “I already finished it, by the way.”

So much for fulfilling your dreams of coding with an exceptionally handsome boy. With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, you run the program on his screen.

As expected, it runs smoothly, free of any bugs. He even threw in an interactive portion with a sleeping kitty. Total cat dad vibes. It’s great, and there’s really no need for you to tamper with the work he’s done. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being the one to carry you on this project. Besides, you have an idea of how you can spice up the program and expand on the kitty part.

You spend a good amount of time going through the code line-by-line and inserting small bits here and there. Once you get to the kitty part, you add in a function to wake up the cat and have it start dancing around to a few different songs from your favorite kpop group. When it’s all set, you run it back, earn Jungkook’s stamp of approval, and submit it for your professor to grade.

“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd.” He leans on the chair over your shoulder. You’d correct him on Big Tim’s name, but you’re too focused on the way he looks at you with such gorgeous dark eyes.

“If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd,” you fire back. This is the kind of banter that results from putting two smartasses and an immense amount of sexual tension in the same room together. You want more of it.

“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him,” he says rather casually. “Doubt you would be either, judging by that game of dodgeball you were playing yesterday.”

“Well yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You shudder at the thought of almost being stuck as Big Tim’s partner. It’s thanks to Jungkook that you escaped that fate.

“Why do you hang out with those people anyway?” He spins your chair around to face outward and lays himself down on his bed next to the kitten who just woke up from her nap. She’s cleaning her paws like a good girl.

“I know I have a lot of shallow connections, but I figure if I surround myself with enough people, I’ll eventually have to run into someone I genuinely like, right?” You hop out of the chair, sit your ass on the edge of the bed, and convince yourself it’s to play with the kitty. She jumps down right away to catch a fly but you don’t chase after her.

“Found anyone yet?” he asks, gazing up at the ceiling like it’s the night sky. What did you ever do to deserve seeing this handsome boy and his tattoos all laid out on the bed like this? You’d do it a million more times.

“There might be a boy I’m interested in,” you hum.

“I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it?” he laughs. Why is “Jim” the one name this guy knows from your class? “You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”

“Fuck no.” You shimmy your ass closer to him and block his scenic view of the ceiling with your face. Now it’s you he’s gazing up at. You’re free to admire the tempting ring around his soft lip, the glimmering piercing through his brow, and all his beautiful features that have drawn you to him. You look him in the eye and lie because you know he already knows the truth. “Never mind, it’s no one.”

“Really?” All of a sudden, he pulls your body down against the mattress and climbs on top of you. One hand holds your wrists above your head while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in close but stops half a centimeter from your lips. “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were begging to work on this project with me yesterday, fondling my arm as soon as you got here, practically eyefucking me a minute ago,” he pauses as his hand unzips your jeans and presses into the folds between your legs. “And you’re pretty wet for me right now.”

You want to lunge at him and devour his lips to prove how right he is, but your arms are still being held captive. He smirks at your failed attempt to bite him. For now, you have to settle for squeezing your thighs against his hand to get the tiniest bit of stimulation.

“So if it’s not me, who’s this boy you’re interested in?” he whispers into your ear as you feel his hand slipping out from your pleasure spot. “I won’t continue until I get an answer.”

It’d be kinda badass if you had the willpower to keep your lips sealed for at least a minute, but you give in after 0.3 seconds. You never had a fighting chance anyway. “It’s you, Jungkook.”

He smashes his lips against yours, his tongue practically down your throat when he says, “Good girl.”

The ring around his lower lip is cold to the touch, but you keep going in for more. You love the way he tastes—like sweet alcohol that encourages you to keep indulging in the high. He’s so addicting.

At the same time, he helps you kick off your jeans and slides his whole hand back into your panties. He swirls his fingers around, coating them in your lust before rubbing over your clit. The jolt of pleasure draws a soft moan from your mouth and gets your body nice and hot. Normally, you’d be eager to get your hands back to join in on the fun, but the boy somehow knows exactly how you like being touched and toyed with. Plus, you kinda like the idea of being so helpless beneath him.

Eventually, your panties come off, followed by your shirt and his. You get the perfect view of his full sleeve as well as the big shark tattoo on his ribs. If you weren’t so horny, you’d drop everything to analyze each piece in depth. But right now, all your weak mind can handle is admiring the shark.

As soon as he lets your wrists breathe, you run your fingers along his ribs, tracing the tattoo from head to tail. The lines are so smooth and pretty. He has great taste in art and apex predators. You’ll have to ask him for the artist later so you can get yourself a baby shark at your hip.

“Got any others I should know of?” you ask with two paws ready to tear his black jeans off of him.

“Just one.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and sucks hard to mark you as his. You can’t wait for Big Tim to see it on Monday. “You’re gonna have to earn it, though.”

You’ll do anything to get his pants off and find that final tattoo. You need to see his bare body in full, and you have an idea of how to earn it.

“Please?” For the hundredth time, you bring out the puppy eyes because that might be his only weakness. His body twitches a tiny bit, but you realize you have to take it up a notch with the dilf angle. “Please, daddy?”

The word not only makes your face hot but also taunts the bulge ready to burst out of his pants. He watches with immense focus as you unbuckle him and free his hard cock from all the fabric standing in its way.

You assumed you would’ve had to search his skin for that last tattoo, but it’s staring you right in the face. A fat snake slithers along his cock, tempting you to stroke it with its seductive glare. You’d appreciate the design more if not for the fact that snakes eat cute little lizards like salamanders and chameleons, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly hot.

Without thinking, you wrap both of your hands around his length the same way you had with his arm. Jungkook would probably use the term “fondling” again if he wasn’t so entranced by your touch. If he’s like this with just your hands, you wonder how he’d fare with your whole mouth around him.

Just as you lick the drool from the corner of your lips, he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. “If you do good today, I’ll let you have a taste tomorrow, yeah?”

Tomorrow is too long of a wait for a starved babe like yourself, but you nod anyway because you want to be praised again.

“Good girl,” he purrs as he removes the final piece of clothing over your breasts. Then he leans back to get your whole bare body in sight. “Can you show daddy how you want to be touched?”

You start by squeezing your breasts together and working your way down to your core. Your legs spread themselves open and your fingers glide right in. One hand pumps in and out of your hole while the other strokes your clit. You’re so wet you’d think you’d already orgasmed several times if you didn’t know any better.

With shy eyes, you glance up at the boy watching your every move. This is the first time someone has ever dropped everything to watch you touch yourself. You usually just tease your clit a little if the cock inside you isn’t enough, but never once has a boy given you his full attention like this. He might not take any notes in class, but he’s definitely jotting a few things down for the next time it’s his turn to play with you.

Your fingers speed up and your panting gets louder. How long is he going to make you suffer before he takes over? The one thing you need right now is for him to fuck you senseless.

But instead of getting handsy with you, he grabs his cock and forces you to watch—not that you’d look away anyway.

“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he says rather calmly as he jerks off.

You nod as a gasp for more pleasure escapes you.

“Beg for it.”

“Please daddy,” you whimper, giving up the last of your dignity. “I need you inside my tight little pussy.”

“Such a good girl.” He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you. It’s definitely a tight fit, but your body adjusts to him accordingly. You almost lose it when you hear the way he grunts your name.

As he pounds in and out of you, you feel yourself getting dangerously close. “Jungkook, I’m—”

“Don’t cum yet,” he warns. “Not until I say so.”

You wish you’d known he was the type to torture you for one single release. If you’d known sooner, you would’ve tried to pace yourself. Now you’re stuck on the edge without permission to orgasm. You love it here.

In the meantime, he gives you some more sloppy kisses. His tongue doesn’t have to fight for dominance over your docile one, but he’s certainly not holding back. That, in combination with the forceful thrusting down below, is your definition of the best rough sex.

At some point, the pleasure begins to melt altogether into a foggy haze of feral lust. Your moans have been reduced to a broken record machine, and your poor body is just waiting to hear the word to finally hit its high. You don’t even know how much time has passed.

“You poor thing,” he growls into your mouth. On pure instinct, you tighten around him and feel him tense up. “Do you enjoy it when I tease you like this?”

You nod without thinking too hard about it.

“Think you can go another hour?”

Hell no, but you nod anyway.

“I’m not that mean,” he chuckles as his hands slide up and down your limp legs. “But good to know.”

He quickens the pace to build the pleasure back up with you still so tight around him. Your obnoxious moans and whimpers give porn star vibes. He better let you get your release soon if he doesn’t want any complaints from his neighbors.

“Please, Jungkook, I can’t—” you gasp, biting back the impending wave of pleasure. Your claw marks are etched into his ribs. “Please let me cum.”

Satisfied with your begging, he nods with the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen and gives you the okay. It feels like your whole body breaks into a million pieces of pure pleasure. Your back arches, your walls tighten even more around him, and your chest heaves up and down as you ride the wave out.

Not long after, he pulls out and pumps his fat cock over your breasts until they’re covered in his lust like two glazed donuts. He admires your glossy worn-out body for a good while before tossing you a hand towel to clean up. You feel timid and small all of a sudden. What if there’s nothing left to say after the excitement of sex has come and gone? What if he shrugs you aside like everyone else does once they get what they want from you?

“Did you really call me daddy?” He throws his pants back on and joins you back on the bed. You can tell he’s trying his best to hide a smile, but you see through him. It’s adorable.

“I thought you were into it, no?” Your face is flushed with heat again as you slip back into your outfit.

“It’s cute coming from you, I guess,” he shrugs as if he’s not aware of how weak he is to your baby girl charm. “I was just going with it because you said it first.”

“Well if you don’t like it, I won’t say it next time.” You give him a hmph for extra emphasis.

“I didn’t say that,” he clarifies, almost a little too quickly. You knew it.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Your voice is soft.

“Go for it.”

“Why did you invite me over even though you finished most of the project yourself?” It’s been in the back of your mind all day, although you did shove it away during the sex.

“Well, my little demon cat kept me up all night so I thought I might as well work on it. And you were hard set on coming here, weren’t you?” he says. You nod for him to continue. “But also, I wanted you to know that there’s at least one person in our class who’d save you from that house on fire.”

He’d choose you. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.

“Yeah, but you hate everyone else, so I’m your only option.” Your smartass can’t help but point out the flaw in his statement. If anything, it’s you challenging him one last time.

“Maybe you’re the only option that matters,” he hums to himself as if those words don’t mean a thing. Who knew a grumpy boy could say such soft things? And who knew you’d fall for it?

If a hundred shallow friendships is what it took to bring you to this moment—this boy on this bed—then you’re glad you took that route. And you’re even happier that that route ends where this new one begins.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook #jungkook #bts

4K notes · View notes

ferrarrigirl · 6 months

Note

i beg for some lando x reader where he is a girl dad!!!!!!! love ur work 🫶

Full House

Pairing: dad!Lando x mom!reader

Summary: Lando and reader with their 4 daughters, there’s always drama in the Norris household. Slight angst, mostly fluff.

A/N: Im so sorry this took forever to write but I hope you like it xx

You had just retired to your room after finally finishing up the last of your emails for today. Trying to sneak in a quick nap before the rest of the family gets home. Maybe you should’ve checked the time because just as you got comfortable, the front door unlocks downstairs, followed by Layla’s loud voice, “You just always have to take everything I want. Couldn’t this be the one thing you left for me?”

You immediately jumped out of bed heading for the stairs. As your racing down the steps, you hear the younger of the twins, Ava, retaliate, “I didn’t mean to Lay, it’s not my fault.”

Both girls turn to face you seeing you’ve reached the bottom step. “What is going on girls?” You question, deeply concerned with the anger laced in both their voices.

Layla’s first to reply, “Ask her Mom, ask her why she had to go after the one guy I liked.”

“I didn’t go after him, I don’t chase anyone” Ava seethes through gritted teeth.

“Oh cut the shit, you love having every guy’s attention. You should’ve left Jake alone!”

“Layla, stop,” you scold, noticing Ava’s patience is growing thin. That never ended well. Similar to her dad, it took a lot for her to get angry, but if she did, it wasn’t pretty.

“No Mom let her say what she has to. She’s just mad no one wants her.”

“Ava! That is not how you speak to your sister,” you move to step between them. “Let’s take a break and talk about this when you’ve both calmed down,” you offer.

“Fine by me, I never want to speak to her again,” Layla glares at Ava, turns on her heel and heads up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door, hard. You move to step towards Ava, in attempts to comfort her but she slips under your arm. “Please don’t defend her mom,” Ava sighs and heads up to her room as well. It’ll be best to try and get through to them later you think, especially with Lan. They always seem to more receptive hearing it from him. You turn to your younger babies, the less of the trouble makers. “How was both of yours days? Better I hope?”

“Oh yea mum the best, but I wanna catch up on some reading before dinner, is that okay?” 11 year old Amelia pleads, looking up at you through her beautiful green eyes. How could you deny that. “Of course you can bub” you say, pulling your bookworm baby into a hug. “I’ll come get you when dinners ready,” she smiles, padding up the stairs to her room aswell.

“Now you, my sweets, come here.” You crouch down to your 7 year old, knowing she gets very anxious whenever her older sisters argue. As expected, immediately she’s in your arms, almost throwing you back with the impact. You pick Charlotte up and move upstairs, asking her about her day to try and distract her. You take her to Lando’s office and settle into his gaming chair with her on your lap. It was always your comfort room, something about the darkness mixed with the led lights soothed you. She fills you in on the few things she learned today, but mostly all the games they played, while she snuggles further into you. You hated that she got the anxiety trait from you, so anything you could do to help her out, you would. Lucky for you, your voice worked well to relax her so you spoke to her about your day and felt her ease up.

“I’m home,” you smile hearing the front door open and close, followed by heavy footsteps moving quickly up the stairs. Char jumps off your lap, running out and straight into Lando’s arms. “Daddyyyy” she exclaims, presssing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Lando follows where she came from, leading him to you sitting in his gaming chair. He furrows his brows, notificing your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Are you okay babe?”

“Yea-“

“Lay and A had a big fight and they yelled and screamed at each other,” Char quickly spills.

“Oh sorry mummy,” she pouts seeing your gaze shift towards her. “Wanted to tell daddy so he can fix it.”

“That’s okay baby,” you stand, placing a kiss to her head. “Do you wanna go play with Amelia while me and daddy talk? We’ll grab to help cook dinner.”

Halfway through your sentence, she’s already jumping out of Lando’s arms and rushing out the door. “I’ll take that as a yes” you giggle while Lando engulfs you in his arms.

“Talk to me love” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, making sure to leave a few pecks. He stays like that, rocking you side to side as you unveil the events that led you here. It’s a lot to digest. And it’s never fun knowing your girls are fighting, especially if it’s over a boy, but you both know you need to get to the bottom of what happened.

“Hey” he pulls back and cups your face with a hand on each cheek. “They’re young, they’re siblings. They’re gonna fight. We can talk them both out of it.”

You were used to the twins fighting. They always bicker, but never like this. “I know Lan but you should’ve seen how they spoke to each other. Poor Char was frightened too.”

He pulls you back in for another hug, “Love, you know how sassy they can be. I’m sure once we speak to them, they’ll get over it just as quick.” he reassures rubbing you up and down your back.

“Fine but your talking to Layla,” you mumble into his chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter under your head. “Lucky me.” Pulling back he places a soft sweet kiss to your lips, grabs your hand pulling you in the direction of the twins rooms.

He goes first, knocking on Layla’s door. “Mom not now.”

“Not Mom, its Dad.”

Lando rolls his eyes hearing his eldest groan. He can imagine her dragging her feet towards the door. She opens the door the tiniest bit and rushes back into her bed, tucking herself into her multiple blankets. “I still don’t wanna talk. I’m only letting you in to know if you beat Uncle Los today.” Layla loved going to golf with her dad, the only one of the family that seemed to enjoy it, especially when her and Carlos would team up against Lando.

“Well I don’t want to talk about golf so I guess you won’t know.”

“Ughh stop being annoying dad,” she says, voice now muffled as she turns shoving her face into the pillow.

“Hey if you tell me, I’ll tell you.”

A moment of silence passes, he knows she wants to talk about it. Heck if with anyone it would be with him. She contemplates it, but shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”

‘Lay, there’s nothing you need to be embarrassed about with me. You can tell me anything.” Lando moves closer to sit by her, rubs her back up and down. “i won’t force you to talk, but I need you to know this is what me and your mom are here for. No judgement with us, ever.”

He stays like that, comforting Layla for a bit, and once he realizes she isn’t ready to talk yet, he moves to get up. But immediately she senses him leaving and turns back around. She looks up to her dad with tears flooding her eyes, “No one likes me dad.”

That’s all it took, and the tears started flowing. She moved into his arms and surely the silent cries turned into louder sobs. In the moment, Lando didn’t even know what to say. He felt like he did when the twins were younger and he’d always look to you to figure out why they were crying, but in this moment he knew it was all him. He began with hugging her back and reminding her she needs to stop crying or she won’t be able to breathe. She slowly pulled back and began explaining seeing the concerned look on her dad’s face.

“Jake is the only guy I’ve ever liked. And I thought he liked me back too.”

“Okay..” Lando swallows, not expecting her to be so blunt about boys, but he urges her to continue anyway.

“We got along really well, he was really nice and all of my friends even told me they knew he liked me. And then, today at school, infront of all us, he asked Ava out.”

“I see, what did Ava say?”

“She said no, obvs. But still. She gets every guy and she doesn’t even have to try. If Jake can’t even like me now, when we’ve been getting on for so much longer, then no one is ever going to like me.”

Lando’s starting to get it now. Being a twin in highschool surely can’t be easy. Especially when these years can have a great effect on your self esteem.

“Baby, you can not put your self worth into the hands of a boy. You are so beautiful inside and out, smart, and hilarious.” “And amazing at golf,” he emphasizes to bring a small smile to her face

“You are going to find someone that loves you for you, but that isn’t something you need to worry about yet. I know it’s hard seeing Ava have it different but it doesn’t make you any less better in any way.”

“It’s just not fair Dad.”

“I know bub, it might feel like that now but come next week, next month, you and no one else are going to remember this. And if that dumb boy can’t see everything amazing in my daughter, he isn’t someone I want for you and you shouldn’t want that for yourself either. I mean there will never be a boy good enough for my girls but this once isn’t even getting close.”

She lets out some more snotty giggles and reaches to hug Lando again. “Love you dad”

“ I love you more. Now, do you see how Ava is not at fault here?”

“Yeah I do. I guess in the heat of the moment it was easier to blame her.”

“I get that, but let’s try and have a breath before going at each other next time? You girls are lucky to have a built in best friend, never let a boy get in between you two.” Layla nods, feeling guilty about her behaviour earlier and realising she must’ve scared Charlotte, she asks “Is Char okay?”

“She is bub, don’t worry. Anything else you need?” Lando confirms, he didn’t want to impose and give her some alone time before dinner.

“No that’s it. Thank you Dad.”

“No problem sweets,” he reaches down placing a kiss to her head. “Go get up and shower, you’ve got snot everywhere,” he teases, moving to leave the room.

“Wait, so did you beat Los?”

“Nope, got absolutely destroyed.”

“Omg I have to text him,” she says breaking into a fit of laughter as Lando shakes his head and opens the door to head out. “Yeah yeah be down in 30 for dinner.”

He heads down the stairs, joining you in the kitchen. “How’d it go?” You inquire as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head on your shoulder. “Good, she was just feeling a little insecure.”

“Ava was the same,” you inform. “She was upset Layla thought she would do it to her on purpose, but I told her she knew it wasn’t but was acting in the heat of the moment.”

“Mhmm,” Lando mumbles, placing a few kisses to your neck, “just glad we got through to them.” You both settle into each others warmth when you hear giggles filling the house. All 4 girls come tumbling down the stairs heading straight for you. Amelia and Ava immediately cling to Lando having not seen him today. They pull him away, fillling him in on their day, while Layla comes to you holding Charlotte in her arms.

“I’m sorry mum,” she pouts. You can see the guilt eating away at her, she was always a softie at heart.

“That’s okay my love, how are you feeling now?” You wrap your arms around the 2 girls, trying to provide her some reassurance.

“Much better, i apologized to Ava too. But I’m really sorry for causing a ruckus at home.”

“I’m proud of you baby. Do not let anyone get in your head and make you forget how special you are, especially not a boy.” You press a big kiss to her cheek, “I love you sweets.”

Before Layla can reply, Char is jumping out of her arms and into yours, “Me tooo mummy.” You giggle, reaching to grab her and move to the couch to join the rest of your family. You all cuddle under a large blanket and decide pizza and movies is how you’ll spend the rest of the night.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #lando x reader #lando norris #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #dad!lando norris #lando imagine

636 notes · View notes

cheollipop · 11 months

Note

Hiiiiii<3333 Im here for the hard hours

Lately I've been thinking abt breeding kink with mingi. Like picture tighing him up to the head board and riding him during one of your risky days. And you just keep going and going just being relentless at some point he knows he's going to burst so he's BEGGING you not to make him cum. like full crying and whining his normally deep voice cracking and breaking because you did stop and his big huge cock is just throbbing inside you amd he's frustrated but then again he actually asked (begged) you to stop so he's the only one to blame here ORRRR worse (= better hehe) you do force him to cum inside you and it's just a mess. So much cum and tears 🥵🥵🥵

I'm totally normal about this man........ don't even need therapy or anything 🙃🙃

I'm so sorry for getting to this so late :( I ran out of steam but now I'm feeling better and ready to write the subbiest, whiniest mingi for you my love. no dubcon in this! happy reading~~

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

in the solace of your bedroom, the moonlight illuminating through the chiffon curtains to cast blueish hues over slick skin, the bed creaked under your added weight as you grazed your knuckles over mingi's heaving chest, a pretty shade of pink tinting the smooth skin. your eyes fluttered shut, and you allowed the breathy, high-pitched whines, the muttered mixture of pleads and curses, to envelop your every sense.

the rapid rhythm of skin-on-skin reverberated in the dark room, working your hips over mingi with tandem, his cock sheathed deep within you as you rocked back and forth, pulling off halfway before slamming back down. pleasure shot up your spine as his twitching cockhead grazed over your g-spot with every grind, your walls squeezing around him to elicit needy moans from plush lips.

"y/n, please, I can't-" you rolled your thumb over one of his nipples, interrupting his whining with a muted 'ah'. "I-I'm not gonna last."

you smiled at the concern painting his face, your hips slowing down their ruthless pace so you could lower yourself over him, adhering your chest to his and gazing into his eyes while your hips drew languid circles.

"you want me to stop?" you emphasized your pout, drawing your eyebrows in while you stared at the man under you.

large hands grabbed onto the silk ribbon tying them to the bedhead, tugging uselessly, "I don't, I really don't. just- it's dangerous, sweetheart."

you rolled your hips forward again, slipping an inch off of his cock before sliding it back inside your tight heat, "thought you wanted a baby," you pursed your lips further. one hand slid down his torso to where his cock disappeared inside you, gliding up your mound to your lower belly and pressing the heel of your palm into the soft skin, pushing against the bulging tip of his cock, twitching underneath your flesh.

his head rolled back against the pillow, a deep groan ripping through his chest as you moved your palm over the hard outline of his cock. "I do- fuck, but are we ready?"

you leaned over him, breathing over his chin while looking up, eyes glazed over with burning want. "yeah, baby, 'want you to fill me up all the way," you placed a tender kiss over his jawline, "over and over again until I'm all swollen for you."

you could feel his throbbing length inside you, the twitch of his thighs under you alerting you of his turbulent arousal. "(y/n)-"

"want them to have your eyes," one hand cupped his face, smoothing a thumb over his left eyebrow, "and your nose," you pecked the tip of his nose, "and your laugh," a fleeting kiss over the plush of his lips, you moved back to eye his dazed expression before going back in for more.

the warmth of your cunt surrounding him, the insistent squeeze around his girth, your mouth moving over his, tongue swiping over his bottom lip—mingi's world, his thoughts, feelings, senses, they all reduced to you. your heat, your skin, your touch, your voice. he tugged against the silk ribbon once, twice, before giving up, digging his feet into the mattress under him to buck his hips upwards and into you. desperate thrusts into your soaked cunt paired with a blend of airy moans and throaty grunts echoed between the four walls, your downstairs neighbours catching the melody slipping through the cracked-open window.

the familiar twitch of his cock between your walls and the pretty flush painting his chest were enough warning of his approaching orgasm, your hips lifting off him and his length slapping against his lower belly. he was left impetuously thrusting into open air, a noise of confusion escaping his parted lips.

"please, (y/n), I'm so close," he whined, trembling under you as his high dwindled down, cold air brushing over his slicked-up cock. "let me stuff you full, baby. make you nice and pregnant for me, yeah? you want that, right?"

a wave of arousal rushed through you and straight down to your core, your pussy gushing until it dripped down the sides of your thighs. "but I thought you weren't ready," you pouted in dejection.

"I am! fuck- I promise, I am! 'want our kids to be just like you—kind, beautiful, understanding," his hips jolted upwards inadvertently, the deep baritone of his voice rising a few octaves, occasionally breaking as he whined under you. "if it's with you, I'm ready for anything."

a shared exhale mingled in the small gap between your faces as you slid down mingi's length again, your eyes fluttering shut at the brush of his cockhead against your g-spot. you pried them open again, not wanting to miss the change in mingi's expression—from desperation, to relief, to the rawest forms of lust. you pawed at his wrists, pulling at the ribbon tying them firmly until it slipped off. with his hands now free, he reached down to grab at your hips before the blood could make it to his appendages. your thoughts faded into nothing, deaf to anything but the sound of skin slapping on skin combined with mingi's soft moans, his deep groans dropping to mere whimpers of need.

constant shots of pleasure seared up your spine, your clit rubbing harshly over mingi's pelvis while he fucked into you, your vision going black as you came on his cock with a strangled cry, your walls clamping around him as he continued to chase his orgasm despite your pained mewls.

it took a few more frantic thrusts before mingi's nails pressed thin crescents into your skin, his hips stuttering as hot ropes of cum shot between your pulsing walls, holding you down on his cock while he unloaded all he had deep inside you. and all he had was a lot, his seed seeping past your stretched hole from the sheer amount he was feeding into your womb.

"ngh- fuck. mingi, it's so much," you breathed out.

the pain from overstimulation dulled when you took in the tears making their way down the sides of mingi's face—pearlescent streaks reflecting the moonlight pouring out of the open blinds. "i-it won't stop coming out, ah- all for you, baby," he rolled his hips to push himself further inside you, his cockhead spasming once as it shot out its last spurt of cum.

you laid there in the aftershocks, your thighs trembling around mingi's hips while your body rocked with every intake of breath, his chest moving steadily under your head. his release trickled out of you in small beads, mingi's cock still plugged inside your used cunt to keep the majority of it inside. gentle fingers squeezed at your hips, sliding upwards to your mid-back and down to soothe your aching muscles.

it was when sleep tugged your eyelids shut that mingi grew restless again, and through the thick haze of fatigue, you noticed his cock chubbing up inside you. your body slowly rolled sideways with mingi's until it made contact with the sheets, warm where he'd been laying. he towered over you, pressing his hips to yours with his glazed-over eyes fixed on your face.

"want you," he whimpered, one hand on your hip while the other cupped your face, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheekbone.

"mingi-"

"want you so bad, baby," he ground his cock inside you, biting his lip at the squelch of his cum between your walls. you moaned breathily at the feeling, your eyes finding mingi's before he leaned down to place another kiss to your forehead. "wanna see you swollen with my babies," he panted, his thumb finding your swollen clit and drawing slow circles over it. "gotta make sure I fill you up properly."

#mingi x reader #song mingi x reader #song mingi smut #mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi x y/n #mingi imagines #song mingi imagines #song mingi scenarios #song mingi fanfic #mingi scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

1K notes · View notes

jacaerysgf · 1 year

Note

ethan smut where reader is always flirting with him and he gets all nervous and flustered about it all the time but he thinks she’s joking and one day they’re alone watching a movie or something and she asks him if he wants to f her and he gets all flustered again but she keeps saying she’s not joking and they end up having sex 🙏🙏

a/n | no actual smut but very suggestive 😁 not proofread !

“looking hot today e.” you say as you pass by him to the drink bar at a party you two were at. “really?” his face was red, you always had this effect on him. Everyday you would shower him with compliments and praise leading him to blush and excuse himself.

you hum and nod your head as you shamelessly rake your eyes up and down his body. “you got to wear sleeveless shirts more often e they make you look so sexy.” he tenses up as you take a step towards him a place a hand on bicep. “your arms are so big e.” You squeeze his arm and give him a smile. He opens his mouth in shock, not being able to come up with something.

unconsciously he flexes his arm causing you to laugh. You admire him for a moment before you hand lightly trails down his arm giving him shivers.

“youre so cute e.”

He gulps as you turn away to pour youself a drink, “want some?”

he can only nod and watch as you make him a drink.

You smile to yourself as you make his drink, an idea popping into your mind before you turn back to him.

“can i ask you something e?”

he eagerly nods and you smile.

“do you wanna come over to mine and watch a movie?”

his eyes widen and he's silent for a moment, you almost fear youve done something wrong before he answers.

“yes.”

you smile at him as he looks down at the cup in his hand awkwardly. he was so cute.

the movie hadn't even been on for twenty minutes before you lift up the remote to pause it. he turns to you shocked, “is something wrong?”

you shake your head, “im bored…”

he stumbles, “oh sorry we could put on a different movie or um do you… um what to…” he trails off as he watchss you stand and walk towards him.

you out your hands on his shoulders as you lead him to lay back and with his lap exposed you sit down.

“i wanna do something fun e can i ride you?”

“what???”

he coughs in shock and his face turns beat red, his breath picks up as you place a hand on his neck.

“i want you ethan;” you grab his hands and lead them to your chest.

“i, um i uh i-i”

he can barely breathe right now, the girl of his dreams was sitting on his lap practicing begging him to fuck her.

“am i making you uncomfortable?”

he quickly shakes his head, “no no no.”

You smile then move to readjust yourself so your sitting closer to him. he lets out a pathetic noise as his hands grip your chest unconsciously leading you to moan.

he closes his eyes as he lets out a couple of shallow breathes.

“what are you doing?”

you look at him in shock, “i think its pretty obvious ethan.”

he looks at you with glassy eyes and you almost rip his pants off him that exact moment.

“you… want me?”

you tilt you head, “of course i do e. i thought i made it obvious.”

he gulps, “i dont know… i didn't think… i just…” he trails off, he looks away and keeps his head as far away as possible with an embarrassed look.

You grab his chin and forcefully make him look at you. “dont be ridiculous ethan. i want you so bad.”

you grind down and he moans, his head would be thrown back if you were holding his chin.

“ill show you how much i want you ethan, can i?”

he nods and pleads, “please.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream six #scream #scream vi #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry drabble #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut

3K notes · View notes

fluffylino · 6 months

Text

boypussy!hyunjin pt 3

lollipop lollipop lollipop

-contains mature themes (it starts off smutty and then becomes really fluffy)

"hyunjin what are you doing?"

your eyes trailed down to the boy who was in your lap. the lollipop you were originally eating, not yours anymore.

the boy was hunched over, his legs spread out on the couch, laying flat on his stomach as he took the candy you were holding into his mouth.

his tongue rolling over it. as he took it deep, almost gagging. at first, you were innocently enjoying it when he plopped himself down.

"im tired" he had said. their shoot had ended only an hour back. you hummed, while eating the candy. you were used to him complaining and he loved when you'd listen to him. he lazily lied down beside you. sweetly asking if he could have a taste.

how could you ever say no to those pretty pleading eyes. not to mention the smudged eye makeup he had not wiped off yet.

dark makeup suited him.

unconciously you swiped your thumb against the corner of his lip. where sugary essence had stained his lips. making them extra pink.

"is it that good?" you asked and he looked up at you with sparkly eyes.

"mhm hm"

"yea?" you teased, running your fingers through his hair. he made a sound that almost sounded like he was purring.

he stuck his tongue out, licking the lollipop from the top to the base, gradually going lower. his hands holding onto your thigh, like an actual puppy.

"are you pressing your legs together" you confirmed, noticing how his thighs were quivering. he whined.

"Hyunjin."

he halted his tactics at your tone. this wasn't a time for him to be a brat.

if he really wanted something up his cunt, he'd have to work for it. you'd make him earn it.

"e-empty" he whispered, blushing when you looked down at him.

"the fridge?" you joked, faking a confused look. to which his cheeks grew red.

"n-no"

"then what do you mean?"

"me...i want m-mommy" you laughed softly.

"but mommy is here, im right next to you baby" you teased, heart swelling as he hid his face in his hands. he stayed like that for a few seconds before shaking his head.

"I want you to fuck me damnit"

you jumped at his sudden outburst. frustration in his voice. he pulled away, sitting on his haunches. he knew he made a mistake. this wasn't how he could talk to you. a quiet sorry was what he whispered.

you pitied him. maybe this time you could let it go. have a little fun with him.

"take your pants off and lay on your back"

he shuffled around, shoving his pants off and laying back for you.

you couldn't help but stare right at his pussy. he was...wet? or had he been wet?

"were you needy during the entire shoot?"

embarassingly he nodded, subtly crossing his legs.

"oh my baby, it must've been so uncomfortable"

he nodded again. he loved when you doted on him. made him feel like he was nothing but a dumb dog who'd listen to anything you'd say.

"im giving you two options. can you be a good boy and answer well?"

he shook his head.

"either i fuck you with this lollipop or you can hump my thigh" you stroked his leg, watching how his expression changed.

"i want y-you"

"but this is me, puppy. i'm tired today... will you please let mommy rest-"

"you can rest mommy...but i can't decide"

"does puppy need me to decide for him?"

"yes please" he was so polite.

"how about the lollipop?"

hyunjin mewled as you pressed the tip of the bubblegum lollipop against his folds. the pink sugary substance mixing with his wetness. you prodded at his swollen clit. that looked like it was begging for attention.

"baby your pussy is so pink"

you couldn't help but admire it. the colour dripping down. his inner thighs stained with it.

it looked sweet. even sweeter since it was on his pretty cunt.

without much thought, you pushed his legs apart to lick a long strip. both of y'all moaning in unison.

"m-mommyyy no teasing" he mumbled, lips forming into a pout. you wanted to kiss it away.

"sorry puppy...i couldn't control myself"

you were in fact wet and aching.

you slipped the candy between his cunt. the tip rubbing deliciously against his clit. he was good enough to stay still and enjoy it despite being horny.

In times like this you would always put his pleasure before yours. he needed relief.

you nudged it in, watching how his pussy spasmed. so eager-

"w-wait"

you stopped all your actions. worried that you did something wrong. there was a long pause until hyunjin clambered over to you. choosing to sit on your lap. his naked thighs caging you in.

not to mention he was bigger than you, so he covered you whole. but in moments like this, he looked smaller. and cuter than ever.

he cupped your face with his shaky hands, gently pressing his lips against your parted ones.

you felt your heart race. what was he doing? it took you off guard. you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"s-sorry i stopped you..." he apologised, his eyes a bit teary. you felt your heart sink.

"whats wrong? did you not like it"

"no i loved it...i suddenly felt like i just wanted to be close to you. i just want to stick to you" hyunjin mumbled, leaning back in to capture your lips. the taste of cherry still lingering on his lips.

he kissed you like he had not got the chance to for weeks.

slow and so full of love.

you could feel tears forming in your eyes. it had been a long time since the both of you had done something like this.

the lollipop still resting in your hand.

806 notes · View notes

c0llisiion · 4 months

Text

I HATE YOU - g.st

Cr. _3aem on twitter/x for the pic!

★pairing : gojo satoru + fem!reader

★genre : smut

★: clan leader!gojo, mean dom!gojo, yandere type ig? , Mention of possessive gojo , cuckqueanery, voyeurism , degradation, fellacio , name calling , slapping, bondage — lmk if i missed any ^^

★W/C: 874

A/N : HIIIIII I DECIDED TO WRITE MY FIRST JJK SMUT CUS I BE GOING THROUGH THAT SATORU GOJO BRAINROT ( my gorgeous man is coming back frfrfr ) kinda gives me the ick everytime i proof read it 😭 but ANYWAYS HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Thinking about clan leader Gojo, who you were forcefully married to. Your clan and the gojo clan had a lot of tension building up between each other, and the last option was to marry the gojo's gifted son and the youngest beauty of yours as a peace treaty. Satoru had met you before. To say the least, he was not very fond of you. He thought of you as just a daddy’s princess who had no talent, even though your cursed technique was one of the rarest. Satoru was not pleased at first, but he had a change of heart.

Satoru was rude to you every waking second. He treated you like his cumrag. You were to obey him at all times. You want to go out? He will join you too. He would threaten to slice someone’s head off if they ever laid eyes on you or stared at you for too long. Cause you were his toy. His to look at. His to fuck every night till you were brain-dead. He would dismiss his rudeness towards you as possession or love. His cerulean eyes glowed as he rutted into you at an inhumane pace. His pale hand covered your mouth, stopping you from talking back to him. “You are damn right about me hating you. Cause you are mine. Mine to fuck. Mine. All mine.” He would say, landing a harsh slap on one of your tits. You writhe in pain, kimono all over the place, and your legs split open as he pounded his length harder and harder. “My fucking whore. You like it, don't you? Getting treated like a useless whore? Yeah? That's right.. You can’t do anything about it cus you belong to me. Your perfect little body is all mine."

His servants are always on alert. After your little sessions he would order them to clean you up while he goes out into the gardens for a smoke. He wouldn’t even take a chance in cleaning you up himself or embracing you. ‘You don’t deserve it.’ Is all he said to you when you asked him.

He liked seeing you suffer. Your tears and your cries were a pleasure for him. That's why he got you tied up. Hands tied behind you, and legs tied wide open as you watch your husband get his dick sucked by another woman. This man was a sadist. He watched you cry and writhe as one of his hands was bobbing this other woman’s head on his dick. Legs splayed out. His hair tussled. His haori hung loose around his body and he had an evil smirk on his face. “You like the sight, wife? You like seeing me fuck someone else’s mouth, don't you sweetheart?” He said. “No! Satoru! Please! Please! I'm sorry! Please satoru stop it! I don't like it!” You cried out. Face stained with tears and voice hoarse from the constant begging and crying. Even though he treated you like shit, you still loved him. That was your husband. Your husband. Your legs twitched as your arousal dripped down from your wet cunt. “Seems like you are enjoying it.” You shook your head. He let out a dark chuckle and threw his head back as he made the other woman choke on his length. He let out a deep breathy moan as the woman kept bobbing up and down. He hissed and moaned, to taunt you. “So.. fucking.. Good.” He bluffed. “Satoru please! I can do so much better!! Please im sorry im so so sorry! I will only listen to you! I will worship you, Satoru! My eyes will only be for you! Please satoru!” You pleaded out in defeat. Crying uncontrollably. Satoru raised his eyebrows in amusement. The woman in between his legs was giving him the worst head of his life. He just wanted to see you beg for him after your little drama earlier that day. Satoru called in two of his trusted and loyal servants, commanding them to untie you. His servants had seen worse, so it wasn’t that awkward for them. As they untied you and left, you immediately fell on the floor, crawling to gojo mindlessly, with hunger in your eyes. You pushed the woman off his dick, sending her flying to the wall. satoru giggled at your eagerness. You immediately wrapped your lips on his dick, taking him in fully. His hands grabbed your hair and started thrusting into your mouth. You gagged and moaned as his dick hit the back of your throat. Gojo was in full pleasure. His head was thrown back, and his body arched off the couch as you give his underside and balls attention. You choked around his length, your nose hitting the base as he pushed you further down his shaft. He tugged your hair before pulling you away. You gasp and cough, a mixture of your spit and his precum all over your chin. A string of the mixture connected your lips and his tip. You looked up at him with your big doe eyes. Satoru looked disheveled. He slapped your face softly before pulling you into a heated kiss, tasting yours and his mixture, smiling into the kiss.

“I fucking hate you.”

A/N: AHHH THANK YOU FOR READING <333 how was it? Should i be writing more jjk? Ilysmmm!

381 notes · View notes

saatorubby · 6 months

Text

BABY PULL ME CLOSER - G. SATORU

SYNOPSIS : your boyfriend is in dire need for your attention. unfortunately for him, it’s the finals week.

a/n : im loving writing for jjk and this man makes me so ill about him.

GENRE : fluff

PARINGS : student!gojo satoru x student!reader

WARNINGS : mention of childhood pet dying once. reader is referred to as girlfriend.

The finals week was here.

Usually, there is nothing wrong with that, except for being overworked, stressed, and dehydrated, but for gojo satoru, that wasn't the worst.

No, far from worst. For him, the worst thing was being unable to be with his cute and pretty girlfriend.

"Without whom I'll die." he once declared.

There was he now, dreamily staring at you as all of your attention was stolen by those goddamn books. Satoru swears he's gonna burn them all one day.

He wonders whether those dried trees are more important to you than your loving boyfriend, him, who has been begging for your attention for days.

He huffs as his begging stare seems to have no effect in melting your cold, cold heart. Though he has to admit, the concentrated pout and the furrow of your brows do look cute on you as you slave away on the revision and assignments and last-minute projects.

He's tried everything that he could do without your presence. Played games with suguru, and caught up with his friends (which is just suguru and a very pretty and chill lady, ieiri, despite him being popular). Now, he can't go out and get food without his lovely girlfriend, could he? no, that'd be blasphemy through and through.

"Babyyy." he whined for the umpteenth time, laying on your bed as he mindlessly scrolled through social media to find topics to talk shit about with you later.

You sighed and turned to him, exasperated with his antics.

"Can we go and get food?" he asked as his bottom lip jutted in a pout you couldn't say no to. He knows you can't say no to that face, it's too cute.

"Satoru," you stared, frowning. "We've talked about this," you told him, conflicted. You wanted to take up on his offer, you do. You want to take a break too. But you just have so much work. You aren't sure you'd be able to complete it if you stopped even for a minute.

“My love, my darling, my sugarplum honey bun, can we please go and get McDonald’s?” He pleaded.

Gojo Satoru was simply irresistible.

From the first time you’ve met him, you’ve found out that he’s scarily good at getting people to do what he wants.

He looks so cute like that. His pretty eyes watery, his soft, pink lips formed into a pout, his face flushed.

He’s always gotten his way with a face like that.

So you’ve taken it upon yourself to be more resilient and tell him no. He needs to learn.

Also it’s funny how he always looks aghast after you’ve denied him something, like you’ve told him his childhood pet died or something.

“No, toru, we can’t.” You shook your head, looking up at him. You don’t dare try suggest that your boyfriend help with your work, not after…last time where both of you got distracted and ended up making out instead of getting it done.

“I have to get this paper in by tomorrow.” You said firmly, turning back to your work, holding back a snicker as he gasped dramatically.

Here it comes.

“So you don’t love me anymore, huh? Is that it?” He said, narrowing his eyes at your form, hunched over your desk. He takes it back, you’re not cute anymore.

“Is your love for me really that weak, baby?” He lamented. “That’d you’d break under the pressure this easily?” He cried.

“Do you want me to kick you out?” You take it back, he’s not cute.

“Then you won’t be able to see me for real.” You muttered, but it was enough for him to hear.

That made him shut up real quick.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #suguru geto #shoko ieiri #hidden inventory arc #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru fluff

372 notes · View notes

squirmhoney · 24 days

Note

for prompts: (modern au) maybe aegon punishing his niece reader by edging her till she cries and begs him to let her cum because she was being a bit jealous and bratty at a party?

english isn't my first language so im sorry if there are any mistakes!!

A/N: love this. Enjoy ♥️

Warnings: dub con. Edging. Orgasm denial. Incest. Overstimulation. 18+

It was torture.

The way Aegon was toying with you in the backseat of his car.

You knew rolling your eyes and giving death glares to other women were not acceptable, especially when you were usually the cool and collected one. But you and Aegon hadn't been able to touch each other in a week and you were losing every bit of composure you once clung onto with the way he was looking tonight.

You needed him… but not like this.

You whimpered as his fingers pressed against your soaked panties, praying he'd just slip his fingers underneath the material already. But he wouldn't, even though you knew he wanted to as much as you did.

“Look how wet she is for me,” Aegon hummed, rubbing you through the material. You were leaking out of the sides of your underwear at this, the material no longer able to hold the mess in. “Fucking hell, you this desperate?”

“Please Aegon,” you whimpered, placing your hand on top of his in hopes to guide him.

But he tutted, slapping your hand away in a warning. “Brats like you need to learn a lesson.”

“I need you though,” you pouted, wet eyes begging for the tiniest bit of sympathy.

But he ignored you, shaking his head as he went back to your pussy.

When his finger finally pushed your panties to the side, you bit down on your bottom lip to keep your noises at bay.

“I don't even think you'll need me to touch you that much, will you?” He asked, tone as menacing as the grin that spread across his cheeks. “I could just do this for a few minutes-” his middle finger circled your clit slowly to demonstrate “-and you'd probably cum, wouldn't you?”

You didn't dignify him with an answer, only trying to focus on the faint touch of his fingers. He was barely touching you, practically hovering over you with his finger but you were still breathing erratically, focusing on his touch.

“You really are desperate,” Aegon chuckled, the gravelly sound tickling your ear. It spread across you, crawling from your neck and over your body as it seemed to deepen the heat swirling in your stomach from his depraved touch. “I'm barely touching you, darling. Need me that bad?”

“Yes,” you let out in choked sob, nodding your head feverishly at him. “Please, Egg. I'll do anything.”

“Oh I know.”

You moaned when his fingers pressed against you a bit more, finding yourself leaking even more at the sensation.

“Really?” He was mocking you, enjoying the way he didn't have to do anything to have you like this.

You didn't even care as you closed your eyes, furrowing your brows as you concentrated. A week without him and the simplest of touches were all you needed to bring you to the edge, you were sure of it. You could feel it so close as your stomach tensed, whole body fixated on the sensation of that one finger.

Until he pulled it away without a word, leaving you to become frantic as you opened your eye, whimpering at the loss of contact.

“Aeg-”

“You were about to cum.”

Tears stung your eyes as you gave him the barest of nods.

“Did I say you could cum?”

“No,” you croaked out, lips trembling.

His face softened at this, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly. You could feel your juices on the tips of his fingers, barely able to focus on the way his thumb wiped away your tears.

“I need you, please,” you pleaded with him.

“You don't think I need you?” He questioned, eyes darkening as he narrowed them at you. “You don't think it's taking every part of me to stop myself from burying myself deep into this cunt, huh?”

“Why don't you?”

“Because I can't just let a brat like you get your way when you’ve misbehaved,” Aegon told you, fingers pinching your cheeks. “That wouldn't get the message across.”

You huffed, throwing your head back in the seat as you allowed Aegon to continue with his punishment.

That he did, hand dropping back down to that sopping cunt of yours, finally doing more than just teasing your clit.

You gasped when he pushed two fingers inside of you, walls clenching around the familiar thick fingers as he began to pump them in and out. Your slim fingers couldn't compete with his, unable to reach the depths that Aegon could as he slid them deep within you.

“This pussy missed me,” Aegon hummed. “Barely wanting to let me go.”

You let out a harsh moan as he curled his finger inside of you, touching that sweet spot that had your nails digging into the leather interior of his car as you tried to grip onto reality. He repeated the action again, and again, and again, until you both knew you were slipping close to that edge again, cunt almost swallowing him whole.

But he stopped once more with a cynical laugh, smiling wickedly down at your wet cheeks covered in tears.

“You're so pathetic like this,” he told you, bringing his slick covered fingers to his lips. He was sloppy as he sucked on them, groaning at the taste. He was greedy as he dragged his fingers again bringing another wad of your juices to his lips to taste you again.

“Please.”

He knew you were asking and he shook his head. “Me and you both know I'll lose all semblance of control if I end up down there.”

“Anything then, please. Just let me cum.”

His eyes closed for a second, gritting down on his teeth as he tried to gain some semblance of control again.

You opened your lips to speak, only to stop yourself as his fingers reached down to your cunt again. There was no patience in his movements now, only pure desire as every part of his resolve crumbled.

“You want to cum, do you?” He hissed, using his free hand to grab your jaw, turning your gaze to face him. “You'll cum, I'll make sure of that.”

“Please,” you repeated frantically.

His fingers thrusted themself in and out of you while this thumb stimulated your clit, driving you to see stars as your eyes rolled back. Your toes curled and your stomach tightened with knots that you were unable to contain.

“Aegon,” you moaned, hips sinking down onto him for more friction.

“Keep on begging me like that,” he told you, tone devoid of humour as his tongue swiped at the skin of your neck. “Soon enough, I promise, I'll have you begging me to stop.”

Your walls squeezed him at the thought, wide eyes staring at him.

“Like the sound of that.” He pushed fingers in harder, becoming rougher with his touch. “Can't wait for me to fill you up?”

The pleasure consumed you, your mouth hanging open with a string of meals and whimpers falling from it. Your wet eyes were barely able to meet his, completely hazy as you tried.

Aegon placed an open mouth kiss to your lips, still toying with your cunt as he watched you come down from your high.

You struggled to open your eyes, fighting with the last bits of your orgasm as his fingers slipped out from you.

But there was a hand around your chin, snapping your attention back to him as he growled in your ear, “I'm not done with you yet.”

He kept his promise and before you knew it he was bullying his cock deep inside of you, snapping his hips up to meet yours. You were crying loudly at the sensation, feeling sore after having him inside of you for so long, desperate now for him to be finished with you. But you were sure he hadn't got his fill yet, even after spilling into you two times, his cum spilling out of you and dripping around his cock.

“Too much for you? He teased, sweat coating his bare skin. “This is what you asked for, isn't it?” His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass cheeks, yanking you down to meet his hips. “You’re going to take every single bit of it. You understand?”

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #dark fic #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #dark!aegon x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon ii fic

198 notes · View notes

manicpixiefelix · 4 months

Text

he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue

{ head, heart, hand. masterpost }

Summary: Oliver is haunted by what he's done to get his happy ending in Felix's arms. His guilt is only made worse when he meets the first member of your family to actually remind him of you. Unfortunately, he does not find it to get better from there.

{ context; please read he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) first }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD IN THIS ONE, but you do get to haunt the narrative. congratulations?

Warnings: discussions of death/overdose, lots of guilt, manipulative oliver, felix being upset, vaguely unhealthy oliver/felix, lotsa angst, oliver quick reckoning with the sunk-cost fallacy.

A/N: 6828 words. first, i don't usually do part 2s when i say something is a oneshot, so this is a rare occurrence. secondly im sorry this is almost 7k there's something wrong with my brain i think. thirdly bro, bro, listen to me; ANGST. HURT NO COMFORT. HURT NO COMFORT. it's soft in the middle THE SOFTNESS IS A LIE. ITS GONNA HURT ALL THE WAY DOWN (apart from nana i love her nd i hope you will too)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

One hour and fifty three minutes.

Rounded up, because all things considered, he should round it up, that's two hours.

Two hours. Like the blink of an eye in the scope of a whole life. But a very long time when you sit and count it out.

One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds. He's always counting two hours, seeing exactly how long it feels like, how he can fill that amount of time. Seconds pass like a steady heartbeat.

He can do a lot in two hours.

Oliver tries to occupy himself nowadays more than ever, and really tries not to be alone, but it's hard. Farleigh left for Oxford. Venetia, before she decided to backpack across Europe and find herself, wouldn't let anyone touch her anymore.

Oliver doesn't like leaving Felix alone, but sometimes he has to be. You're laying cold in a family crypt somewhere next to a grandfather you never knew, and while Elspeth and Sir James don't comment on it, they both scowled when your parents sprung the announcement on everyone at the funeral.

Felix spends a lot of time alone at the edge of the maze. He's making a fairy garden where you had waited. Sometimes he'll drive into town without telling anyone, and come back with quaint, second-hand miniatures to add. It's beautiful, shining with greens and golds when the setting sun hits it just right.

So Oliver finds time to occupy himself, when he's alone and all he can think about is you sitting by the maze. You laying by the maze. You alive when he'd run from the maze. And the two hours that followed.

Sometimes he leans out of his window and shouts to the gardeners so far away they look like ants; even at this distance, his voice carries, and he sees them turn, search for him, ask if he's okay. He is, and he apologises, and he think about how far his voice carries.

On occasion, out of the blue, he'll lift Felix up when he hugs him, able to get his feet off the ground as Felix wriggles and clutches him out of surprise. Of course Felix lifts him with ease in return, spins him around, but that's not the point. Oliver is stronger than he looks; he wonders if he could lift you, could carry you far, if he could have dragged you if it had come to it.

Some nights he wakes up in a fright, your rapid heart rate beneath his fingers and he swears he could hear you whispering for help amid your shallow breathing. Please. Pleading. Begging. You were alive when he'd left you. He presses two finger to Felix's pulse point beside him, and tries to calm his breathing, to focus on Felix's slow, steady heartbeat.

And some days he sneaks into the computer room and curses how long webpages take to load when he looks up statistics on overdoses. Symptoms. Niche forums where he can learn what it felt like from survivors. People luckier than you. Their words, their stories, the recollections of those horrifying sensations stick with him, even as he diligently erases any trace of his browsing history.

And he thinks about how fucking long two hours is.

"Nan's coming over later," Felix tells Oliver idly one Sunday afternoon, "we're having tea of you'd like to join us." They're laying out in the grass, Oliver in the grass finding shapes in the clouds, Felix on his side, chewing on the stick of a lollypop he'd finished an hour ago and gently tracing abstract patterns on Oliver's chest.

"I thought you said your granny haunted Saltburn," when Oliver looks at Felix, he still can't help the way his heartrate picks up. Felix Catton touching him in the most gentle, caring way; he'd never stop feeling lucky for getting here, and never forget what he did to earn it.

Felix's gaze moves with his fingertips, up Oliver's warm, bare chest, twisting two fingers in the delicate chain around his throat. He looks pensive; but shakes his head after a beat.

"Different nan," he says distractedly, plastic straw trapped between his teeth. He tugs the chain experimentally, like he's forgotten it's attached to Oliver at all. He's in his head again; Felix is always in his head nowadays, but there's still often echoes of who he was, echoes of what Oliver has fallen for in the first place.

And he's finding himself falling more and more for this version of Felix too. So he tell himself that it was all worth it.

"Love," all these pet names - Love, Darling, Sweetheart - because if he slips up, tries to call him Fi, Oliver knows he'll only get ice in return, "is everything okay?" Oliver carefully reaches up to cover Felix's large, warm hand by his throat with his own. Felix meets his gaze, and gives a faint smile, an attempt to reassure him when he says he's fine. It doesn't work, but Oliver lets it go, and lets Felix tug him in by his chain for a kiss.

"Tea sounds lovely," Oliver murmurs against his lips.

There's something about this visit has Felix alive and buzzing the he way he hasn't in a very long time. Still he's quiet, but his eyes are bright as he follows behind the staff members setting up tea and biscuits in the garden. He goes through all the DVDs the family has and picks out a stack he thinks would be suitable, making sure they're all perfectly stacked by the DVD player. Oliver floats along behind him, and simply allows himself to admire Felix's energy.

Still, Felix finally takes a moment to breathe right as it becomes noon, and decides to have a bath to freshen up before his guest's arrival; two hours before she'd be here, Felix reminds him.

Two hours.

Oliver feels drawn to his own room. He doesn't allow himself to be alone in Saltburn often anymore, doesn't like the thoughts that crop up when he does. Perhaps it's a kind of punishment, a painful reminder, penance for what he's done.

There's a scrap of paper that he keeps tucked in a book in his nightstand, his own handwriting stuffed amongst a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, words he'd clung to and scribbled out the minute he'd gotten the chance so he'd never forget them exactly.

From the coroner's report, according to Duncan and Sir James. Time of Death; around 2am. Cause; narcotics overdose, and there were signs of alcohol poisoning.

On the back, he'd written '12:07'.

"Mum and dad both say it was a tragic accident," Felix's voice in the dead of night, the night they'd gotten the full report, riddled with guilt and unspilled tears, betrays his disbelief regarding the sentiment. Felix doesn't talk about how his last words to you were shouted with anger. Felix doesn't talk about how your last words to him were a desperate plea for him through tears. Felix doesn't think that it was an accident; only Oliver knows that he's almost right, just not in the way he thinks. Or dreads. But he has to bite his tongue on the truth, and let the man he loves live with this unjust guilt.

The water starts loudly draining for the tub, and Oliver isn't sure how long he's been sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but he scrambles to stuff the page back into the book, and toss it back into it's drawer. He can smile again, and admire whatever outfit Felix chooses for the rest of the day, and pretend like he doesn't feel your rapid heartbeat or hear your shallow breathing every time he touches that paper, like he had the night he left you.

With the hour drawing ever closer to two, Felix keeps checking his watch. The minute he deems it to be time, he gives up all pretence of small talk - which had been another thing severely lacking as of late - and snatches Oliver's hand, pulling him through the house. They even outstripped Duncan and the footmen by the door when there comes a firm knock. Its the only time Oliver has ever seen any of the Cattons open the doors for themselves.

And it's not Felix's grandmother.

"Hi, nan," Felix sounds so genuinely happy as he hugs the older woman at the door with a warm smile and your eyes.

Oliver feels like he's frozen, like he's seeing a ghost. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Duncan actually standing aside, giving Felix and your grandmother a quietly fond smile.

"I swear you get taller every time I see you, oh, my lovely boy," she says with a warm laugh that sounds so damn familiar, "or maybe I've been shrinking, you get to my age and people tend to do that," and Felix laughs, actually fucking laughs. Oliver realises it's been a long time since he'd heard Felix give a proper laugh like that. As the hug ends, Felix let's her tuck her arm in his as she continues, "just you wait, one day you'll only be six-foot tall." Another laugh, and Oliver can see how genuine and broad he's smiling, how his eyes shine when their gazes meet. She's surprisingly sprightly for her age, it seems. Oliver recognises your grandmother from your funeral, but hadn't made the connection at the time, so he's surprised when Felix goes to introduce him and her eyes sparkle with recognised.

"Nan, I don't know if you've been properly introduced, but this is -"

"Your Darling, Oliver," and it's said with such warmth; her hug feels almost like home, "you strange, little thing," she laughs, "it's called a hug; are you not a hugger? I should have asked," but she doesn't apologise, nor does she let go for a few more beats. Oliver gives into this moment, closes his eyes tightly and hugs her back.

"Our Darling Oliver," Felix echoes with such admiration, and when Oliver opens his eyes, it's the first time since you'd passed where his gaze has held only the love and pride Oliver had been craving since he'd first laid eyes on him.

Once Nana - she'd insisted Oliver call her that too - lets him go, she tucks her arm in his, and is waving Felix over to her other side, briskly asking where tea was to be held. Duncan leads the way and she fawns over him too, apparently downright overflowing with love for Saltburn and everyone and everything in it. She talks more than she doesn't, but considering who Oliver is and who Felix has become, that suits them both just fine.

It's been too long since they've had tea together, she insists, and doesn't talk about why exactly that would be. She doesn't bring you up, not while you were all making your way through the house, but once she's settled outside, she takes a moment. The way she looks at Oliver in this moment makes him queasy; the smile, that look in her eyes, the way her gaze takes all of him in. A woman, whose time is so precious to her, taking her time to make him feel seen. Felix is quiet, intrigued by the exchange.

Your phantom heart beats beneath Oliver's fingertips.

"You're Y/N's grandma," Oliver says quietly, breaking the tension. Present tense still, they all play pretend. She smiles, and finally leans back. The moment is broken; Felix pours them each a cup of tea. Nana takes a jammy dodger and looks over the gardens with a smile.

"Of course, dear," she says sincerely, taking a bite of the biscuit, but being so eager to talk that she spoke through half a mouthful, "and when they were thirteen they told me I was Felix's grandmother too, because they'd overheard Felix's mum talking about how she hoped they'd get married some day." Felix snorted a laugh at that, turning pink around the ears as he prepared everyone's tea, as if on autopilot.

"Does that -" Oliver begins awkwardly, but he tries to smile, "do you think in time, they would have ask the same of you about me?"

"Considering how they spoke about you," there's a twinkle in your Nan's eyes as she turns back to him, smile knowing, "there's absolutely no doubt in my mind, my dear." All you had ever done was love him; love him and stand in the way of the love he desperately craved.

Oliver watches his tea for a long while, spinning the ornate cup on its matching saucer, while your Nana almost immediately picked hers up and took a tentative sip. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver notes the way her face goes on a journey of emotions, from pleased, to confused, to a sudden realisation as she looks to her cup.

"I should have asked you how you liked your tea," Felix realises too late, apology in his voice as Nana puts her cup down with a forlorn, yet fond look.

"No, darling, it's nice to know you know how my grandchild liked their tea," and she holds her cup delicately, looking into it's warm, brown depths, "just the same as I always made it for both of us when they were much, much younger."

"I am so sorry to ask," Oliver hears himself blurt out, unable to help himself, "but how does all this love just skip a generation?" It comes out far worse than he intends it to; he means to ask how someone so loving as you come from parents so uncaring, yet how did either of those parents turn out the way they did when the woman in front of him was clearly bursting with just as much love as you had been. Thankfully, instead of being offended, your grandmother laughs.

"My daughter is a wonderful, intelligent, compassionate, impressive woman," she begins, but sighs with unmistakable disappointment, "but my late husband was never capable of even trying to be a father over pursuing his own interests, and it's one of the few traits she actually inherited from him," she shook her head, "and she went on to fall in love with a man who loved her but suffered from that exact same defect," after a beat, she looked up with a warm, reassuring smile, "it's why I love Y/N so fiercely, and so hard," her grin turns soft and adoring, looking between the two boys before her, "the only way my daughter has ever disappointed me is as a mother, but I will never be disappointed in Y/N as my grandchild."

Oliver knows there's tears in his eyes, and Felix has ducked his head. Immediately Nan begins apologising, realising she'd set both of them off. Despite this, Oliver tries to wave her away, insisting it's fine, before he asks about her; he's heard bits and pieces he thinks, but Y/N had always been so cagey about their family. Honestly he's surprised that your grandmother knows so much about him when he feels like he's barely heard about her.

Despite turning out to be an incredibly decorated artist, with paintings selling for more than Oliver's pretty sure his own family's house is worth, your Nana is quick to downplay her own successes, simply insisting that it took decades of hard work. Again, he sees you in her eyes.

"We've got a few up around the house," Felix adds, "most of them actually from before we even met Y/N," and your Nana gives him a shove, as if flustered and embarrassed by the idea. But Felix is beaming, happy to be showing off her accomplishments, just as he always took joy in celebrating you; "there's one in your room."

"What?" Oliver asked, and your grandmother also seemed surprised, though touched by the thought.

"It used to be their room, actually, but Ollie moved in there, so Y/N was staying with me," he explains a little awkwardly, wanting to skim around as many implications as he could. Thankfully she doesn't comment. All she asks is which one. Felix and Oliver both think about the room; Felix about the few pieces of art on the walls, Oliver about your time of death in the drawer. You were alive when he left you -

"That one of the stars, and that person smoking; I think you actually gave it to them as a gift," he frowns for a beat, "for when they turned seventeen, I think?"

Oh, Oliver knows that one. It's enchanting, blues so deep, so rich it's like you could swim in them, stars that seemed to actually glow on the canvas, and the hazy, dark outline of the window in the foreground, and part of a figure against the windowsill, lit cigarette the lone spot of fire, of red or orange, that makes everything else warmer for it.

"That one really surprised me actually," Nana admits, giving Felix a shrew smile, though he only seems confused, "did they ever tell you anything about it?"

"Said you painted it for them; pretty sure I remember them crying about it," he says fondly, reminiscing, "one of the best gifts they ever got, I'm not lying, they say it every year. It's beautiful." Then, as if recalling what she'd actually said, he looks at her curiously, "surprised you?"

Her smile widened into something both knowing, and endeared.

"I asked them to send me a photo, a postcard, their very best drawing, anything, as long as it was their favourite place in the world - do you really not recognise it?" The tea and biscuits are gone by now, the tea portion of their afternoon is coming to a close. Felix shook his head, almost looking like a lost child, as if he was aware there was something he was supposed to be understanding but couldn't quite get it, "Felix, my dear boy, they sent me a photo of you; that's their dorm room window from boarding school."

Felix looks winded, and a bit like he's about to cry.

"Oh you two were impossibly sweet," she reaches over and holds his hand tightly, looking over to Oliver earnestly, "you take care of this dear boy and his heart, you hear me?"

"Yes," Oliver all but trips over his words to agree, "of course, nan." And she gives him a pleased grin.

They move indoors after this, Felix quiet but lending his arm to Nana, which she takes, while she explained that usually you and Felix would visit a few times a year when they were on break, but she thought it would be best to come to Saltburn this time, given the circumstances.

"You should come see the place when you get the chance," she insisted, patting Oliver's hand.

"It's mostly where Y/N was raised before they ended up staying at Saltburn," Felix supplied with a grin, piquing Oliver interest.

"Y/N's childhood home? Oh I have to see that," he grins, and your grandmother grins brightly for a long moment.

"I'm sure Y/N would love that, they can give you the grand tour -" but her face falters, falls, as if she'd just remembered. Sombre silence, the spell is broken. "I'd love to have you around, dear," she corrects, much softer this time.

Felix lets her pick a movie, while Oliver settles himself awkwardly on the sofa. He wants to reach out to Felix, to touch his cheek, feel his boyish smile and know that it's real. But Felix isn't really even looking at him. There's something childlike about his enthusiasm here, about how he sits on his knees on the floor, watching with rapt attention as your grandmother pores over them. He practically glows as she praises his choices. When she picks one, she hands it over and he scrambles on all fours across the short floor space to the DVD player, fumbling with the case like he can't put it in fast enough. There's a softness in your grandmother's eyes as she watches the boy who has seemingly forgotten the man he is; when she looks at Oliver, its like he sees her asking how easy is he to adore, what a beautiful young man.

"You don't mind watching a movie do you, Oliver, dear?" She asks, though it's clearly an afterthought. He's already shaking his head, assuring her it's fine. Felix is already scrambling back, remote in hand. Oliver tries to make space for him on the sofa between himself and your Nana, but he seems content to sit on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the sofa with her knees gently pressed against either of his shoulders. Handing her the remote, Felix twists to give Oliver an expectant smile.

"Come here, mate," he insists, patting his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him. At Oliver's obvious confusion, Felix blinks for a few moments. It's like he's waking from a dream. His face falls, he goes to apologise, strained smile on his face, "sorry, I know that's weird, you don't have to -"

Slowly, Oliver moves from the sofa, sitting beside Felix on the floor. Your grandmother's knee is pressed gently to his back, but he's not quite sure if he's capable of relaxing enough in this moment to mind. She's playing with Felix's hair, having already started the movie.

"This is what you and Y/N would do," Oliver said softly, and rested his head on Felix's shoulder. Felix takes his hand, and laces their fingers together.

"Do you like it when people play with your hair, Oliver?" Your grandmother asks idly.

"Um, sometimes," he answers, still feeling rather awkward. He hears her chuckle warmly.

"It's okay if you don't want me to; Felix likes it so much he lets me braid it when it's long like this."

"Oh, I know Felix loves it," Oliver hears himself agree, "if he were a cat he'd be the kind to purr any time someone scratched between his little cat ears." And while both he and your grandmother share a fond laugh, he can hear Felix's smile in his words. He gives Oliver's hand a squeeze.

"I can't even argue; I wish I could purr right now."

Oliver wants to bottle this moment forever, keep it locked tight in his chest.

But the movie is a long one. One hour and fifty six minutes. Two hours rounded up. A whole two hours. Enough time to fall asleep with his head in Felix's lap the way they both said you used to. He wakes with your heartbeat in his ears, rapid, alive, left for dead.

"You okay buddy?" Felix looks at him with genuine love and concern; it's been such a long time since he'd seen that look, even with everything that had been happening, "I'm here, you're okay," he assured. Over by the television, putting the remote back, your grandmother glances over at the interaction with a warmth that makes Oliver feel queasy in this moment.

And he'll look up from the book, from his notes from the coroner's report crammed in, obscuring the end of one story while The Tell-Tale Heart begins on the other. Felix will be getting ready for bed in the other room, but he won't sleep there. He can't sleep there. Can't sleep in that bed without you, can't move the costumes from that night that hang side by side as a reminder of the hole you'd left behind in his life. Oliver will read approximately two am in his own messy handwriting, and look at the digital clock on his bedside that had read 12:07 when he'd crashed into his room and locked the door and sunk down against it. The numbers had been shining red in the darkness. On the wall behind, that starry night sky and the hint of Felix and his cigarette; a home you'll never return to hung up in the home you'll never truly leave.

He put enough coke in that bottle to kill a fucking lion. He'd given you the bottle. He'd told you he loved you. He'd left you like that.

He knew you were dying.

He'd left you alive.

Two hours.

The book snaps shut. In the silence he thinks he hears your breathing. Please, Ollie, help. Paranoia is a cruel thing, he has to tell himself; paranoia and guilt.

"Can I ask you something?" Felix joins him just as he's putting the book back in it's drawer. Oliver, heart beat racing - never as fast as the memory of yours, oh now it's all he can think about again - nods quickly. Felix sits on the end of the bed, clearly preoccupied, fussing with the buttons of his pyjama shirt. The days are getting cooler now; Oliver misses his bare skin against his, but he still feels too precarious to make such an observation.

"It's about Y/N," Felix swallows, can't meet his eyes, "about that night." Oliver feels his mouth go dry; the worst fucking night of his life. The night he doesn't know if he'll ever figure out if he regrets all he'd done.

He nods again.

"Were you the last person they spoke to?" It's like Felix is forcing himself to not shy away from this moment, giving Oliver the attention he thinks he deserves for such an important question. Then, after swallowing hard, he can't help but drop his gaze, "why," he can barely get it out, there's already a lump in his throat, "didn't they come into the maze too?" Oliver can't even give him that.

You'd been such a mess on your way to the maze, even with Oliver supporting you. Crying, furious, apologetic; you were everything at once. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to go in, everything about you had been sliding from one emotion to the next. But then it had stopped.

"I can wait for Fi here." It's the most sure that he'd seen you all night. It's when he knew. It had to be you, even if he loved you too. He'd never forget how clear your smile was, how sincere you'd urged him into the maze to follow the tail of what he thought was right. The sight of you, waiting, obedient and loyal for your master to return; "I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

Oliver knew before he'd even entered the maze that Felix's return to you would be too late.

In the present, Felix waits too, diligent, expectant. Oliver thinks about lying. Oliver thinks about how the truth will break his heart. Oliver thinks about how close Felix will hold him in his guilt riddled grief.

"I don't think they wanted to interrupt -" Oliver tries to start, but Felix immediately swears, hangs his head.

"Can't fucking believe I did that," he spits, "I was angry, and off my fucking face, sure, but that was fucking low, even for me," he admitted, pitching himself back on the bed, whole face scrunched up with guilt, barking out an upset fuck far louder than the others, prompting to Oliver to tentatively ask what he means. Felix took a moment, as if forcing himself to calm down, before he admits, voice low like he was sharing a secret, "I never even took Eddie into the maze," he sighed. After a beat, he conceded, "no, okay I did, but we didn't do anything - we made out a bit, but -"

"You didn't fuck you ex-boyfriend in the maze," Oliver connected the dots quickly, "but you did fuck your best friend's ex-not-girlfriend who you kind of stole from them, out of spite after kicking them out of your the bed you've been sharing all Summer?"

"Fucking hell, Ollie!" Felix sounds especially wounded when he lays it all out like that.

"Sorry," immediately, Oliver apologises, knot in his stomach when he hears Felix's pained tone. He wonders if this was what it was like for you all through the night of his birthday. Fuck, he can't think about that.

"No, but you're right," Felix admits, eyes finally opening, looking all hurt and vulnerable. Oliver lays himself down next to Felix, going the other way, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Oliver's hands rest on his chest, trying again, softer this time.

"So was a special place to them?" He gets no response other than a guilty nose from Felix, "you think that's why they wanted to wait by the entrance?"

"They wanted to wait for me," Felix says weakly, clearly in his head about that night once more, "didn't want to interrupt even as I was fucking defiling our-" but he catches himself turning bitter again, mouth snapping closed, "after everything I said that night," he mumbles, "fucking hell," he chokes out. The pain in his voice is audible. This is the sweet spot, Oliver thinks.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver whispers amid Felix's faint sobs.

"What?"

"You asked me what their last words were," Oliver told him as softly as he could manage; Felix sits up, eyes wide, distraught, so full of guilt and love and - "only thing they were properly coherent about; waiting for you," Oliver props himself up, reaches out to wipe a tear from Felix's cheek.

"You're not- Ollie, please tell me you're not kidding," Felix practically begs.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver reiterates, making sure to meet Felix's gaze as he holds his face, "'s the last thing they said- they said; I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

God he can see it in Felix's eyes; it's like the man's entire world crashes down around him. But he clings just as Oliver had hoped he would. As Felix holds him tightly, Oliver can't look at the glaring, red numbers of the clock on his bedside, the constant reminder of the two hours where he could have done something. Two hours and those wouldn't have been your last words.

He looks at the painting. At the stars. At Felix and his cigarette and your idea of what home looks like. The stars look just like they did that night. Just as bright. Oliver closes his eyes. Guilt twists people into shapes they don't often recognise; Oliver just holds Felix, hopes they twist into something together.

Except Oliver's guilt isn't the kind that twists, it's the kind that bites. It's like moths, eating him from the inside out. The guilt leaves him with jagged edges and thoughts he'd rather not be having; there are shades of Felix Catton that he loves, but shame and revulsion bites just behind the guilt as the months pass and he realises more and more this is not what he wanted. This is not the Felix he wanted.

Felix is like an echo, like the sun without it's warmth; he can look just the same, smile, talk, charm just the same if it was required of him, but there was something clearly missing from every interaction. Guests to Saltburn would pull his parents aside and ask if everything was alright. He is, but he is not the same as he once was.

Every day Oliver looks in the mirror and sees something grotesque behind his eyes that no-one else seems to notice. Felix Catton was meant to be the prize, the one who tossed aside everything but the best, the one who made the world fight for his attention, and feel heartbroken when he merely looked the other way. After all this, Felix Catton was not someone Oliver expected to be bored by.

Oliver Quick had lied for, lied to, betrayed the trust of, worked to gain the trust back of, loved, made fall in love with him, and literally murdered the love of his life who he also loved and was themselves also in love with Oliver while still considering Felix the love of their life, just to get a chance to spend his life by Felix fucking Catton's side. He wasn't allowed to not want this.

Felix smiles at him, says he loves him, fucks him, but it's not the dream Oliver once had. Something is always missing. No. Oliver deliberately took that thing away. But he can never admit that, nor can he ever regret that; too far gone. Oliver doesn't want to talk about the past, Felix can't being himself to talk about the future. Trapped together in the present, living lives that no longer feel like enough. Their routine becomes suffocating. Even Venetia, the few times she's stopped back at Saltburn, can barely manage a disdainful look, as if merely inconvenienced by Oliver's presence.

The growing apathy of the estate and it's occupants is exhausting. The cost of this lifestyle has long since surpassed it's value. He's even bored of being haunted. Two hours feels like fucking nothing when the days drag on the way they have been. Behind his eyelids he doesn't see you begging for help, you hiss for him to run, to get out.

He should have listened.

"Ollie, can I show you something I found?" Felix sounds bright today, and though Oliver wants to roll his eyes at the idea of anything in this house being new or novel enough to show off, he smiles back instead.

"'course Felix, what is it?"

Except Felix isn't smiling at him. Felix is looking far more serious and determined, sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Oliver immediately frowns.

"Have you been hiding something from me, Ollie?" It's a trap; a forced confession. Oliver shakes his head, plays dumb. Felix takes a deep breath, the kind that shifts his whole body, his expression remaining firm, "before I show you this thing, I want you to be honest with me; you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, you remember?" Oliver tries to lighten the mood, leaning against the window with a warm smile.

"Of course, my lovely Felix, no more lying," he assures, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with the way Felix remains quiet.

"What's seven-past-twelve mean?" Felix is watching him closely; too closely. Scrutinising his every move. It's like Oliver's been doused in ice water, even his tongue frozen in his mouth, "and what's it got to do with what happened on the night of your birthday?"

Felix doesn't even look at the night table as he opens it; his gaze is solely on Oliver. It's clear he'd done this before, pulling out the book, flicking through it's pages, and pulling the delicate, incriminating piece of paper out from where it had been safe for so many months.

"Felix, I-"

"What does twelve-oh-seven mean?"

Oliver is the deer again, trapped in Felix's accusatory gaze. For just a moment, Felix's voice drops, pleading with him for some other explanation, that Oliver wasn't somehow caught up in what happened, more closely, more malevolently than he'd ever said -

"Tell me," there's tears in his eyes, the furious kind, the ones where he's desperate to love and hope against all odds, "Oliver," he pleads through gritted teeth, "tell me you didn't know."

"Know what?" Oliver's voice is a hoarse whisper; he knows he is caught, all he has left now is borrowed time and a desperately silver tongue he doesn't know if he can rely on anymore. But Oliver's tragically weak denial is enough for Felix to all but jump to the right conclusion.

In a rush, Felix has Oliver by the collar of his shirt, pressed to the window -

"You knew they were dying and you fucking left them there."

This is the tipping point, the end of whatever good this had been. Felix could hurt him, Felix had hurt countless people on your behalf, he'd seen it himself. But Felix had always been the bleeding heart; you were the one who had to be kept on a leash. Felix could hurt him, could probably maim him for what Oliver was about to say, but he never shared your stomach for true Machiavellianism.

"Of course I knew," Oliver managed coldly, despite Felix attempting to crush all the air from him, "the amount of coke I gave them in that champagne could have killed a rhino-" it needed to be unforgiveable, the confession, so Felix would let him leave, would never want to see him again. He hadn't expected the force of Felix's rage to have the glass behind him give out.

Oliver falls from the second story window into the hedge garden below. Felix's shouting is tearing through the whole house it seemed, making his way downstairs, while Oliver tries to regain his breath and figure out if anything's broken. He's pretty sure it's not, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt as Felix drags him by his feet from the hedges, demanding at the top of his lungs that Oliver get the fuck out of Saltburn.

Every single person who'd been in the house comes outside to view the commotion, to see Oliver struggling to his feet, to get away from Oliver. Elspeth looks helplessly between the two boys, wondering what happened -

"Tell her what you did," Felix demanded, once more getting into Oliver's space, jabbing at his chest, "tell her what the fuck you just told me -" and Oliver's strength isn't insignificant, but Felix is in a fury, flooded with rage and adrenaline, and he grabs the back of Oliver's shirt like he's scuffing a cat, shoving him towards his mother like an offering. Oliver struggles because he feels like he has to, feels wild, feels feral, but it's the most of anything he's gotten from Felix in so long. His mouth stays shut, won't give him the satisfaction of a confession.

"He killed them," Felix doesn't even let Oliver have his power play before he grows bored. He shoves Oliver just a little, grip unyielding despite Oliver's best efforts, like he means nothing to him. Elspeth and Sir James are confused, looking between them both, but Felix isn't done with stringing Oliver up for all of Saltburn to see, "Y/N; he intentionally dosed their drink and left them to die outside the maze."

The Catton parents immediately look crestfallen; it's the first time in months Oliver's felt genuine guilt again. Oliver stops fighting. Felix lets him go. Elspeth asks him if this is true; that heartbroken hope is going to make him sick.

"Just send me away already," he drops his head.

"Oliver," Elspeth's voice is firmer this time; when he looks up, she's stepping towards him, tears in her eyes despite how hard she's clearly trying to hold herself together, "is Felix telling the truth?" Is this it? Is this the final gate to his freedom from Saltburn.

"Yes."

Elspeth slaps him so hard her ring draws blood. Oliver hadn't thought that was even possible, but his head is ringing from the collision.

"Get. Out." She hisses with absolute malice as he's hunched over, clutching his face. Felix is by his mother's side in a heartbeat, arm around her, looking at Oliver with contempt. Behind them, Sir James is ordering Duncan and the other staff members to get Oliver off of the property as quickly as possible, but the look in Elspeth's eyes is burning, "this is my family, you monster."

At first, it almost feels worth it to leave Saltburn. To leave the Cattons and their bullshit and their games behind. He thinks he knows them well enough to trust that they don't want the kind of scandal a murder on their hands would be, and for the most part, he's right.

It's not the Cattons who haunt him after Saltburn, though they may be pulling the strings. It's you. It's you sitting on Felix's bed in his dorm room reading every single detail of Michael Gavey's file with threats on your tongue. It's the casual way you talked about being able to access his academic files to change his grades if he wanted. It's you, tipsy at Saltburn, admitting that you got Eddie transferred without his consent to a university on the other side of the country after he cheated on Felix with Venetia.

There's no place for Oliver to return to at Oxford... He's not entirely surprised about that, however, there's also apparently no record of him ever attending. Any calls or enquiries he makes are shut down with the kind of immediacy that seemed reserved for shows about government conspiracies. When applications open for other universities, it seems websites shut down the minute he fills out his damn name. Nowhere in the world seems willing to consider him.

Having him audited seems like overkill. When it happens the next year, despite no employer willing to even consider him for an interview, the existential dread of his situation sets in.

Felix never had the stomach to finish the job; he'd let you haunt Oliver forever.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick imagine #head heart hand fic #manic writer

275 notes · View notes