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justalovelyblackgf · 3 days

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BEING NEIL FAK’S

GIRLFRIEND

HEADCANONS

pairing: neil fak x blackfem!reader

fandom: the bear (2022—)

i feel like no one really writes for fak and i love him as a character, so why not?

summary: neil fak has a girlfriend, but the guys think he’s bullshitting until she shows up for the opening night of the bear.

contains: lots of words, fluff, richie being richie, cursing, two people who love each other, hating ass motherfuckers, insecurity, fear of rejection.

• it was 2 weeks before the bear’s grand opening.

• neil, carmen, richie, and marcus were all having a smoke break outside in the back just kicking it.

• the guys were talking about various topics until carmy started asking for relationship advice.

• of course richie and marcus are putting in their two cents until they hear….

• “to be honest my girlfriend and i wouldn’t even have to go through that shit. we’d just talk it out and stuff our face afterwards! you and claire bear should do the same.”

• there was a deafening silence from the other men because that came from…fak. neil fak!

• what the guys didn’t know was that neil fak has been in an relationship with you for almost 2 months now. he’s been keeping it under wraps because he knew the guys would shit on him for it, but he had to come clean eventually. you always raved about him to your friends because you’re proud of the adorable, loyal, hilarious neil fak, so why shouldn’t he show the same energy?

• he was still a bit in denial that a woman is actually…attracted to him.

• marcus is like “whoa whoa whoa. hold the fuck up. fak…you got a girl?” he genuinely questioned. now, he was curious!

• carmen was confused as well, but he shrugged it off tbh. as long as fak was happy with someone he genuinely connected with.

• richie doesn’t hesitate to think it’s straight up bullshit. fak can’t talk to a woman without crashing out or making a bumbling fool out of himself. let alone being in a relationship!

• ouch! harsh, richie. fak inwardly cringed because he genuinely thought the same thing. he never really felt like he was good enough for that type of thing, but that sinking feeling disappeared at the thought of you when marcus asked how’d you guys met and got together.

• neil could recount that day a million times if he had to.

• you were living it up in your new apartment until your damn refrigerator broke. you didn’t want to go through the hassle of ordering a whole new one, so before doing that you decided to have someone to fix it.

• the only person you ever make an interaction with is your best friend, sydney adamu. you’ve been hyping her up as she goes through the trials and tribulations of rebranding the former restaurant known as “the original beef” to a new type of place.

• you called her up and explained your dilemma.

• “hey, syd. i got a stupid question.”

• “there are no stupid questions, (n/n).”

• you both chuckle at your inside joke, before informing her about the broken refrigerator and asking if she knew anyone who could fix it without charging an arm and a leg.

• “i might know a guy…he’s a bit of a character, but he’s got a heart of fucking gold and he mainly gets the job done. his name is neil fak, but we just call him fak at the restaurant. i’ll see if i can get him to come by tomorrow to look at it. if not, i’ll beat the shit out of him by denying my best friend’s broken fridge.”

• syd’s dry and chaotic humor never fails to make light of the shittiest situation. you quickly agreed because there’s no way you’re gonna let your food rot.

• the next morning, syd sent you a text that fak has accepted the job. you silently cheered and replied by sending her a time and your address to pass on the message.

• fak had been approached by sydney for a side job in the city. he accepted without any question because he could use the extra cash! he told sydney he could go over to your place asap once he knows the time and place. sydney did just that before he gathered all of the necessary equipment before making his way towards your home.

• he went up the stoop and pressed on the doorbell and waited about 10 seconds before he was beheld a vision. a vision with the most alluring, brown eyes and deep bronze toned skin. your natural hair was in the style you desired to be and it looked amazing! not to mention your inviting smile and melodious voice when you introduced yourself.

• “hey! you must be neil fak, right? i’m f/n l/n, i’m a friend of sydney’s.”

• you held out your hand for him to shake. to say that neil was nervous was an understatement. he stammered a bit before getting himself together, giving you an introduction of himself and shaking your hand. something occurred as you two touched hands. fuck, fuck, fuck! he thought as that touch alone made him feel— warm, tingly, safe? but what had him stressed was that his hands tend to get sweaty as shit when he’s nervous.

• “a-ah, y-yeah! i’m neil fak. just call me fak! um, so, uh, you have a broken fridge. let me say this if my fridge ever broke down like that, i personally think that i would fucking explode.”

• you stood there in silence for a millisecond before you burst out in laughter. fak took the words out of her mouth. she couldn’t deny that it was such a huge inconvenience especially to her love of snacks. “i know that’s right! you’re real for that. sydney has told me some good things about you, neil-er, fak. my bad! but seriously— i believe her when she said you’re a trip, but good people. you’re hilarious! ah, damn, i’m rambling. please come inside.” you stepped back to let him in and lead him to the issue in the kitchen.

• you couldn’t help, but catch a pleasant vibe from the mustached man that was rumbling through the inside and back of your refrigerator. as he was working, you guys just conversed as if you two weren’t strangers. you just clicked instantly!

• to some, fak may have looked like a sleaze with his loud voice, numerous tattoos, interesting fashion choices, short stature, and his bushy stache, but his qualities as a person overshadowed all of those things. deep down he’s caring, sensitive, outgoing, and sometimes he has his moments, but who doesn’t? he also wasn’t making any type of insensitive remarks or jokes (ifykwim).

• once he successfully fixed the fridge, you were so hyped that you gave that man a hug and an enthusiastic handshake thanking him for his help. you asked how much he charged and what payment method worked for him.

• he didn’t want to charge you that much or at all because your constant laughter at his stand up material was filling his heart more than his pocket. he really wanted your number, but he didn’t just want to ask for that without looking stupid, so he suggested apple pay and gave you a discount! smooth move, fak.

•you put your number in his phone, sent him the payment, and let him know that you were saving it because you would like to see him again more often whether it’d be for his services or not, so in a way you urged him to keep yours saved in his phone also.

• fak was crashing out on the inside. did you just say that you want to see him? more often? whether he’s fixing something or not?

•he kept his cool, gathered his equipment, and went on home. from that moment fak felt he found someone and someone found him. not just fixing things or cracking jokes, but for genuine company.

• from that day on, you and fak have been texting each other non-stop. checking in, sending memes, having deep conversations about the most insane topics, and laughing out loud late at night on the phone. sometimes he would come over to play a card game, watch a movie, or just kick it with some good food. you’ve never realized how much in common you and fak share. it was just the chemistry that drawn you too closer.

• ya’ll have been talking for about 3 weeks now and you can’t help but to admit that you care for neil…so much! you two are totally different people and to some, you’re built like you’re out of fak’s league. well, fuck whoever says that! looks doesn’t define who you want to spend your time with. everyone’s got their beauty. you could give 2 fucks if people talked about your connection with neil. you were just wondering if he felt the same.

• you invited him to your place to watch a jim carrey double feature of the mask and ace ventura: pet detective. you and fak have always agreed that jim carrey is a comedic genius.

• as you both sit on your couch and watch the credits roll, fak announces that he’ll leave, so that you can get some rest. you can’t sleep knowing you got these feelings and there’s this opportunity right in front of you. you hold on to his hand before he could take another step out of the door. your eyes not pulling from his. he raises his eyebrows as his pupils glint with expectancy, yet worry. he asks you if everything is okay and you swallow before you make your declaration.

• “fak…i need to ask you something. what do you think of me? do you think of me as just a friend? someone to kick it with? or someone to listen to your jokes, fears, hopes, and insecurities? am i someone that you would be proud of the way i’m proud of you? do you see more than just what’s on the outside?” you squeezed his hand.

• you paused to take a breath before you finish.

• “i don’t care what people say about our connection. i need to know because i can’t fucking take it anymore. neil fak, do you care about me the way i care about you?”

• neil was frozen. he absorbed every single syllable that came out of mouth. he has always had those same exact thoughts whether he’s helping to fix an appliance or you two are out trying a new restaurant that one of you recommended. fak thought he was too much of a chickenshit to even cross that line with you. he wanted so badly to express that you mean everything to him. you’re a fucking goddess to him and he’s just…fak. he can’t help, but get a little envious when richie, nat, and carmen had their respective partners while he was although happy for his friends, he was the 7th wheel.

•he’s calmer. he tries to see things with more of an open mind. hell, because of you he’s got a skincare routine! he feels ♾️ % with you if that makes sense. you don’t try to change him because you don’t need nor want to. you just want neil. that loveable person who doesn’t judge you. not just fak the comedian or the handyman.

• f/n…you’re so, so much more than that and i’m so fucking sorry that i didn’t say any of this sooner because i’ve been feeling like this ever since i’ve fixed that refrigerator. i want you to be happy and i want you to laugh a lot. i’ve never really been into this kind of thing before, so i don’t know what exactly i’ll be able to do for you, but i’ll always be by your side…if-if you want me to—mmph!”

•that was all you needed to hear before you pulled him for a kiss. it took him a moment to melt into it, so you started it off gentle and sweet as you wanted to take this relationship one step at a time, so you and neil would always ride the same wave together.

• after fak finishes retelling his friends how you guys came to be. they started bombarding him with all sorts of questions.

• “is she hot?” “what’s her name again?” “what does she do for a living?” “ have you guys fucked?” “do you have a pic of her?”

• fak was overwhelmed trying to answer each question except that fourth one which earned richie a whack to the head by carmen for asking some personal shit like that. “have some fucking class, will you?”

• fak refused to show any pictures you two share together. it was definitely not because he thought you were unattractive. fuck, no! you’re the most gorgeous woman he’s ever had the pleasure of breathing the same air with. like he thought before, the guys (especially richie) would think he’s got the pictures of the internet or some shit. he had a way better idea than that: he was going to invite you to opening night to watch him work and make these fuckers eat their words. he told them to watch for the girl in the red dress and the name for the table is f/n.

• 2 weeks til open has passed and the bear is now ready to welcome the community with open arms.

•everyone was shitting bricks, but they’ve worked their asses off for this vision and they can’t pussy out now.

• fak had tingles from head to toe.

• you and him usually had casual outings, so it would be the first time you saw him in his brown suit and you in that red dress you ordered from fashion nova for this event. it looked good on the model of the pic you sent, but fak’s round face flushed with red envisioning the clothing on you.

• the doors flipped open and the patrons for the first night of many are greeted by fak or richie then escorted to their tables as their meals are being meticulously prepared.

• richie’s eyes are perusing around the place before they stop on a feminine silhouette and— holy fucking shit. who is she?

• the red satin accentuated her body. highlighting every bump and curve. the dress had spaghetti straps and was low-cut, exposing the shimmering, melanated skin of her arms and chest. her hair was curled and styled to perfection as the amber hue in her pupils are made noticeable by the violet eyeshadow that was applied on the lid as well as her full lips were painted like a red candied apple.

• goddamn, she was like a fucking…real life jessica rabbit, but hotter. if it wasn’t for whoever the lucky bastard is with her, eva would’ve had a new stepmom a-fucking-sap!

• his trance is broken from a female voice. “excuse me, i have a reservation under the name, f/n. my boyfriend works here actually. i think i see him right over there!”

• cue the record scratching. richie may forget alot of things, but he never forgot when fak told him and the guys about this mysterious girlfriend of his named…holy fuck!

• the girl in the red dress. f/n. it’s you! you’re the one who stole neil fak’s heart. richie was feeling like the biggest idiot in the universe as he saw fak catch your glimpse from across the room before excusing himself from a table and power walking in your direction to take you into a loving embrace before you plant your ruby lips on his mustached ones.

• you just couldn’t help yourself! you know he’s at work, but he looks so cute and professional in his brown suit and slicked back low ponytail. he’s also wearing that new cologne you randomly gifted him and now you really don’t want to leave his side. your man, your man, your man.

• neil took it upon himself to escort and seat you at your table. he enthusiastically explains tonight’s menu with such confidence and passion as you peer lovingly at him through your lashes with a palm under your chin. if it were physically possible, you would have literal hearts in your eyes.

• don’t you just love it when your partner is in their element? he was made for this and you were so proud.

• fak excuses himself back to the kitchen to find richie already crashing out to carmy and marcus.

• “guys! it’s fak’s girlfriend. she’s fucking real…and hot as fuck! look out there at table 9, the broad in the red dress. that’s all fucking fak!”

• fak lets out an exclamation for richie to cool that shit down, but deep down he was eating it up as carmy and marcus peered out to see the hype at table 9 and what they saw had them gagged.

• marcus’ jaw dropped and his heart thumped at the sight of you. “oh…”

• carmy’s eyes looked upon you, his eyebrows raised as his cheeks fluttered with red, finishing marcus’ sentence, “shit.”

• he already felt bad considering the fact that he has a girlfriend. (not for long after tonight)

• neil grinned as the guys gave their envious, but sincere congratulations to him before they got too distracted to get back to work.

• neil fak was indeed blessed as he waved at the woman in red at table 9. his abdomen rumbled with butterflies when you waved back and blew a good luck kiss in his direction.

• yes, you were all fak, but fak was all you too.

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dragons-and-yellow-roses · 2 years

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My coworker and I are both enjoying Adderall today but we're also dealing with starting a project and concentrating so hard that you can't stop, even though it's taking so much longer than you thought you just gotta keep concentrating and concentrating until your coworkers are worried because you've been scrubbing the rack that holds fry baskets for at least thirty minutes and refuse to stop even though it's really not an important task, you gotta finish. You have no choice in the matter.

#this morning i arrived and he was cleaning up the line #like the place where we keep all our bins of food to make the sandwiches and stuff #he took out all the bins and cleaned under them and reorganized and refilled foods #and took out the sauce bottles and cleaned the container and everything #i arrived an hour after he did and he was still working on it #then i started scrubbing cupboards and stuff. i plopped myself on the floor and cleaned the lower parts #where stuff had fallen or there were crumbs. forgotten cubbies #when i finished that i turned to the fry basket holder #its a bunch of metal bars together to throw the baskets on and it gets covered in grease. i mean covered #today i made it my personal mission to clean it up. then i realized how hard it is to clean up months old grease #but i couldnt give up. i got spray. a rag. a scrubbie pad. and just went to town #for like 45 minutes. and my coworker laughed at me because he saw i was stuck with that same problem as him #my manager put me on break a bit ago which is good #because my right hand has given up. i can't properly hold the scrubbie anymore. ive been cleaning for 3ish straight hours now #this restaurant is going to be so damn clean #next im going to clean the side of the fry freezer. its a little freezer we keep in the front to hold our fries and other fried products #its right next to the garbage can so its filthy #see that wouldve been a more useful project than the fry basket rack but whatever #i wish my doctor wasnt a pos and believed me about ny symptoms and gave me my own damn adderall #because i recognize that i shouldnt be using other people's medicine #but its making my life easier and rn I'll take anything that helps

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foldingfittedsheets · 1 month

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When I worked pizza it was a rough gig. I’ve talked about getting fired but the reality was that it was ridiculously easy to get fired at that place. For that reason it was a bit hard to get attached to new hires. Until they passed the two month mark it wasn’t worth forming emotional attachments.

Enter Daisy. There was nothing wrong with Daisy, really, as a person. She just was a bit ditzy and couldn’t hustle worth a damn. For these sins the veteran staff was almost constantly annoyed at Daisy.

But she was blithely unconcerned or unaware of our frostiness. She greeted us with chirpy friendliness every day that was undeterred by our almost blatant ignoring of her. This was fine with Daisy. She’d fill the silence we left by talking our ears off about her dead beat boyfriend, whatever thought was in her head that moment, and the current drama in her friend circle.

One day we snapped. Daisy clearly needed some hazing because we were going crazy. She made herself a pizza for dinner and passed it off to the guy working the ovens, then went to the bathroom.

I don’t remember this being premeditated but all three of us left in her wake lunged for the anchovies.

See. We had anchovies on hand for the very rare occasions someone asked for them on a pizza. It was terribly uncommon but we had them. It stunk up the entire restaurant every time anchovy went in the oven so we all unilaterally loathed anchovies. We assumed Daisy would loathe them too. We poured the fish juice from the can all over her pizza.

We all then went nonchalantly about our work. Daisy’s pizza came out and I sliced it for her as she strolled over from the bathroom. She smiled and thanked me and sat with her back to us, scrolling her phone.

We waited like horrible little imps of mischief, anticipating her outraged and disgusted cries. She lifted the pizza and we leaned closer, malicious in our delight. She took a bite. She chewed. Swallowed. Took another bite.

Slowly we became transfixed. We left off all our closing clean up tasks to watch Daisy’s back as she ate her pizza with every sign of enjoyment. Our malevolence fizzes out into shock. She didn’t say a peep about the anchovy juice. The oven guy had emptied the can over her food and she was unmoved. We couldn’t look away.

We were silent as she finished and brought her plate over to be bussed. We stared at her.

“What?”

“Did you… like… your pizza?”

“It was fine.”

I broke. I was broken. This girl, this annoying cheerful girl, had broken me. “Daisy,” I said in agony, “We poured anchovy juice all over it. How did you even eat that pizza!?”

“Oh! I thought it was really salty! I don’t actually have a lot of taste buds there’s this weird thing with my nose. I really only get like salty, sweet, bitter. You guys put anchovy juice on it!? That’s so funny!”

Reader, she meant it. She thought it was hilarious that we had spiked her pizza with fish oil. She thought it was even funnier that she’d eaten it all without knowing. We all kept laughing together through closing duties, repeating “I thought it was salty!”

That was it. Daisy was part of the team. She had eaten all the malice we had toward her and come out smiling. She won. The following story took place well over a decade ago. I’m aware it contains shitty behavior. You’re supposed to realize it was shitty that’s why I wrote it.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #pizza #food service #funny #writing #story

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reilemon · 5 months

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₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?

♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -

meet up with your friend

shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets

doctor’s appointment

You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.

But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.

Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.

You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.

Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list

get some dessert for Zayne

And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.

☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊

“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.

It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.

You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.

“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.

Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.

“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”

You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.

With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.

Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...

“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.

Busted!

For like a hundredth time.

You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”

He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”

You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.

You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!

In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.

Zayne's voice fades into focus.

"Is everything okay?"

“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"

"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.

You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.

You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”

It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.

When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”

Right, the heat.

You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.

Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?

You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’

Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.

You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.

Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.

Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.

He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’

You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.

“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.

Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.

Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”

You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.

“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.

He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.

He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."

You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.

His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.

"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.

Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."

Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.

Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.

"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.

The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.

Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"

He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.

Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.

Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’

You shrug ‘Just pull out.’

‘That’s not very respo – ‘

‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.

He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.

Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.

‘Yes… I need you.’

With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.

His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.

'Zaynee-' you whine.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.

But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.

His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.

As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.

He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Zayne - I'm close”

“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.

'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'

You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.

You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.

You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.

‘I’m gonna come soon –‘

You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’

His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.

His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.

His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”

You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”

“I can show you later.”

#my writing needs to be hornier #guess i'm back to writing #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne smut #love and deepspace smut #zayne x you #lads zayne

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six-eyed-samurai · 4 months

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SUMMARY: The three times Giyuu really wishes he was loud about his opinions because god damn if he wasn’t fed up with all the people hitting on you. A/N: You can read this as a part II to this fic, or simply standalone. WARNINGS: Reader is female and has already started a family with Giyuu. TAGLIST: @flogflower MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS

Tomioka Giyuu was known for being a very silent wallflower, a mysterious man whom no one knew much about, not even the rest of the Hashira, as shown by how they never knew he had a wife until very recently. Usually that worked in his favour, as he hadn’t liked to be hounded by busybodies for his marriage to you or the birth of your first child Koji, but sometimes there really were moments where he wished he was as loud as Rengoku or open about his opinions as Shinazugawa because god damn if he wasn’t fed up with all the people hitting on you.

THE FIRST TIME:

He finally found the time to secretly surprise you by taking you and Koji to that restaurant you were always raving about. You’d always wanted to have a meal with him there and to this day he was still very sorry he never had the time to go. It would be the first time you all would be out as a family and understandably you were very excited (underneath Giyuu’s mask of stone he was as giggly as baby Koji at 3 a.m. in the morning). Understandably Giyuu spent a lot of time planning and perfecting this outing from reserving a table to predicting exactly how much he’d have to spend on dessert (your pregnancy no longer excused your crazy cravings, but Giyuu was long used to it…perhaps not his wallet though).

Understandably Giyuu was rehashing the 101 ways to get rid of the patron flirting next to you. It looked like the first way, aka staring at him intensely in the most uncomfortable way, was not working as well as he hoped.

The audacity! Giyuu couldn’t even savor his salmon daikon now, not when he was fuming so quietly as he was forced to watch the brunet drop hint after hint of his interest in you. When he. Was. Right. There.

The sheer audacity!

…he wasn’t sitting that far from you, was he? Maybe the man assumed you both were strangers? Giyuu slouched in his seat, as unaware of how obviously he was sulking as the man shamelessly hitting on you of your marital status. Koji turned his head up in surprise at his father’s sudden stop at tilting the milk bottle into his mouth, babbling sadly.

Did he not see the ring or something? Giyuu wondered if he should’ve bought something flashier like Uzui had said some time ago. You were barely offering the man a fraction of your attention but even Total Concentration Breathing couldn’t accelerate his heart as much as it did now.

Go away, Giyuu chanted in his head, go away.

“Mamamammamamamamamamamaamam!” Koji suddenly squealed, squirming around in Giyuu’s hold, reaching out for his mother. You turn immediately, cooing at your precious boy. At other times Giyuu would be put out by how his son was choosing you over him, but today he couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching into a smirk when he watched the man’s priceless expression as he handed over Koji to you.

“Pass me the bottle, Yuu.” You cuddle your baby closer, oblivious to the staring match Giyuu was winning between the man and him over your bent head. “Aw, don’t fuss, don’t fuss, Daddy sucks at feeding you, doesn’t he?”

“Hey!” Giyuu’s eyes widened, speechless. You giggle and press a quick kiss to his crumb-stained cheek (Giyuu was rarely one to gloat but he couldn’t resist when he flashed a triumphant smile to the man uncomfortably making some excuse to get up and leave.

“Here, hold him, I need to clean up your face.” Giyuu happily took back Koji and let you wipe at his face, reveling in the tenderness of your gaze. “I swear, Giyuu, even Koji doesn’t make such a mess - it’s like I’ve got two babies to take care of.”

“I thought you liked taking care of me!”

“I do!” You roll your eyes at his indignant expression.

“Mmmm!” Koji cooed and the corner of Giyuu’s lip twitched as he looked down. Saved by his baby to protect his other baby - oh well, better than the plan of extreme torture Giyuu had been dreaming of when that tiny spark of jealousy ignited.

THE SECOND TIME:

He thought that jealous, angry spark was smothered and put out after a week or so went by with nothing else like that happening, but hell was he wrong and like the flames of hell the spark was bursting into.

How the hell did so many people not realize you’re married to him, for goodness’ sake? He wondered. For that matter why did this always happen the moment you handed Koji to him for even just a moment?

Giyuu trailed around you like a lost puppy, pathetically trying to remind you of his existence while you walked around town with your recently reunited childhood friend. After the initial introductions and usual hyped excitement at seeing a cute baby you and Aya had fallen to catching up on what the both of you had been doing for the past years and recounting silly memories. You were so delighted at meeting her again Giyuu had offered to take Koji from you and leave for privacy.

He was content with the bonding time he had spent with Koji, of course, but it was rather spoiled when he returned after the tuckered out child finally curled against him to take a quick nap to find the topic of conversation had turned to one of romance and relationships.

“Your fiance sounds like an amazing man! I’m so happy for you - you better keep your promise of making me your maid of honor!” Out of habit you slipped your hand into Giyuu’s when he sat down on the bench next to you.

Aya giggled, as lovestruck as Giyuu at the moment. “Of course I will! But eh, (y/n)-chan, haven’t you gotten married yet?”

You didn’t notice the slow turning of Giyuu’s head in her direction with a disbelieving face, only to beam and reply. “I am! He’s -”

“If you want I know someone, he matches your personality very well! He’s a close friend of my fiance actually. I mention you a lot to him, to be honest, and he said you sound like a lovely person. If you’re okay with it I can help set you both up!”

“Are you stupid?” Giyuu suddenly blurted out, unable to control himself anymore. “I’m her husband…”

***

“Can you tell Mama I’m sorry for me, baby?” Giyuu sighed, gently nudging Koji away from the edge of the futon. He cocked his chubby head to one side, blinking, then flopped over to wriggle his way closer to Giyuu. “She’s not talking to me but she won’t ignore you.”

Giyuu was dying (from the lack of cuddles). Ever since his childish outburst (a justified defense of himself) that had severely taken Aya aback and caused you to give him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. He had been banished (sent off to go sleep in the living room) and starved (denied your delicious cooking and made to go find cold soba from a nearby food stall). At least he had one ally left (Koji had no idea what was going on; Giyuu had simply kidnapped him from his cot for company).

“Bwa.”

“Mmm. I’ve already apologized about ten times though. I still can’t believe Aya somehow thought I was just a friend following her though.” It was nice to pretend Koji could actually understand him, though he’d never admit it. “Hey, hey, don’t drool there.”

“Mmph! Bweeeh!”

“Maybe I’ll go buy her flowers?”

“Sssss!”

“Are you talking to the baby, Tomioka?”

Giyuu sat up straight and whipped around fast enough to crack his neck. You stood by the hallway with your arms crossed and lips pursed. Koji giggled.

“…no.” Giyuu frowned. “Don’t call me Tomioka.”

“It’s your name isn’t it?”

“Not for you.” He looked on the verge of tears. This man really knew how to tug on your heartstrings; you averted your gaze. “It’s Giyuu. Or Yuu. Anything but that. Are you that mad at me?”

“You didn’t have to be so rude, you know.” You crossed the room and sat down in front of him, helping Koji roll over to you. “I didn’t know she didn’t know we were married and that’s is kinda silly of Aya not to notice, but that’s not really a reason to be so insulting.”

“I’m sorry.” Giyuu lowered his head. “…am I not good enough to be your husband?”

“What?!” Your jaw fell open. “Why would you say such a thing? You’re the best thing this world’s ever given me! I love you so much I’d actually choke on air if you’re not there! I’d kill myself if you left me! How can you even say such a thing?”

“Not like that! I’m just -” Giyuu shrugged miserably. “Why doesn’t anybody see that? Is it because I don’t show affection to you a lot? You could do a lot better, everyone seems to think.”

“Giyuu. You’re going to look at me and have what I said drilled into your head.” Well, at least you weren’t calling him by his surname anymore. “When we started going out I already knew what I was getting with you. So what if you don’t feel comfortable kissing and hugging and holding hands out in public? I don’t know any other guy who’d buy me bouquets for no reason, try to cook me my favorite meal when I’m sick, make sure I don’t overwork myself during training. Whether people think I could do a lot better or not is their problem. I’m already doing the best there is, so don’t ever say that to me, Yuu.”

Giyuu definitely was not crying.

“I’m serious, Giyuu. If you do you’ll be sleeping out here for a week.”

“Bwa!”

“And this time I won’t be letting you bundle off our baby for yourself either.” The closeness of how much you were leaning into him and the way you were smiling though said otherwise. Giyuu chuckled, pushing away your hair from your face and pulling Koji onto his lap.

“Can I go back to the bedroom then?”

THE THIRD TIME:

Giyuu was reasonably confident if someone were to repeat this mistake he’d be able to handle like a mature, grown man and not throw another childish remark around.

The universe didn’t seem to think so.

Shinobu had advised you to not go on any missions for the time being, reasons being you should be recovering after Koji’s birth. Giyuu and you were more than happy about that, both having agreed at the start that you didn’t want any babysitters. So for now you were saddled with minor jobs like scouting out an area or mostly, giving extra training to the lower-ranked slayers.

Giyuu was fortunately free that day, so he had decided to go stick around and if nothing else enjoy watching you relentlessly push the slayers into doing better. Somewhere along the way, however, Koji had somehow dropped his beloved stuffed rabbit and to prevent the inevitable temper tantrum and crying fit Giyuu wasted an hour looking everywhere for it.

Finally successful in finding the worn toy and putting Koji to sleep, Giyuu headed off to go find your training grounds.

“(y/n)-sensei is so pretty, isn’t she?”

“She doesn’t look married too.”

“Bet she’ll say yes if I ask her out!”

“You wish! Someone like you, stand a chance with her? Dream on! I’m far better than you, she’d say yes to me for sure!”

“Hah, wanna bet? You sure have an ego the size of Japan to think that.”

Giyuu stopped in his tracks with a scandalized expression on his usually stoic face.

The slayers you had been training were clearly on break. The two he had accidentally eavesdropped on were older than the rest, perhaps around the same age as him and clearly a whole lot cockier. You were too distracted answering some questions from others and calling out encouragement to a group of sparring slayers to hear them…but he did.

He walked in and everyone fell silent.

“Isn’t that the Water Pillar? He looks so scary!”

“What’s he doing here? I’m not going to be able to do well with a Hashira breathing down my neck!”

“Woah, whose baby is that? It looks so much like (y/n)-sensei!”

“Koji missed you,” Giyuu said abruptly, stopping in front of you and ignoring the circulating whispers, handing over your child. You quietly laugh - since Koji was born Giyuu started using him to express his feelings.

“Are you sure it was him or you - mmmph!”

Giyuu took a particular relish in seeing the looks of shock, embarrassment and horror on the two slayers as he yanked you into a heart-stopping kiss and flashed the hand with his ring on it at them.

“You’re done training for the day. All of you are dismissed.” He grabbed your hand, gestured listlessly at the others, and dragged you away firmly.

“Giyuu!!!”

***

He made a special point to invite the two slayers to the Water Estate a couple of months later. They were very pleased indeed to be trained by the Water Hashira himself per personal request! Honorary Tsugoku!

“Why are you both so weak? You move so slowly any demon would eat you before you even draw your sword. Have you not been listening to my wife’s training? If you aren’t, don’t ever waste her time ever again. Even my son could do better than you both.”

There really was something very humiliating about being compared to the cooing, drooling baby pushing around his toys in the corner. Tomioka must really hate them to be speaking so much…

“Well? Get on with it!”

#giyuu x reader #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x you #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka x y/n #kny x reader #giyuu x reader fluff #giyuu x reader jealous #Sunny's Works

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papaya-twinks · 2 months

Text

just an assistant - l.n

Warnings: angst, swearing, smut (SMUT?!), fingering, (oh lord almighty), 18+ (jesus, what if I die), degradation (god damn), one night stand-ish vibes (hey this isn’t the free robux website), belittling stuff (I don’t know the word, I’m dumb ahh)

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - TWENTY QUID TO WHOEVER GUESSED IM DRUNK 🤪🤪🤪😎🥸🤪🤓

Lando. Being nice. Too good to be true? Too good to be true.

You were way too hopeful to expect him to stay nice. The next morning, you walked into the kitchen with a smile on your face, only for it to immediately fall when Lando ignored your radiant grin and your ‘good morning’ quip.

Ah, some things are too good, no? Instead, you chose to busy yourself with house work, when your phone dinged, much to Lando’s annoyance. “It’s ‘Jason’,” Lando said, almost looking to the name in disgust, “who’s Jason?” he added.

“Some guy,” you muttered, moving from dusting to peer at the message instead, your eyes on the words. You’d spoken to Jason a few times on dating apps, and he’d seemed the only decent one, and he’d finally asked you on a date. God, maybe you could finally get over this sexual frustration you had going on.

Jason (tindr dude): so wear, like, pref nothing

‘Pref?’ Who the hell said ‘pref?’ And wear nothing? Jesus, it was the first date, this guy needed some decorum. Lando hadn’t read the message as he slumped onto the sofa, still scrolling through his own phone. You responded with a single ‘sure’ and closed your phone, going back to working.

Jason didn’t know you worked for Lando, he didn’t really know your job, and you weren’t all too keen on telling him either. In case it scared him off, or anything, right? “Lando..?” you said, now that it was fast approaching 4pm. “What?” he said, as if annoyed when he looked up to you.

It surprised you how one person could seriously sit in the same spot for hours on end, all focused on a tiny little rectangle. How did he not have glasses, for gods’ sake? “I was just wondering,” you said, trying to muster the confidence to say it. “Well? Spit it out,” Lando said, rolling his eyes.

“If I could have tonight off?” you finished weakly as your gaze dropped to the floor. “A date? Who the hell asked you on a date?” his words were full of venom as you winced. It wasn’t that he thought you’d were ugly, oh, hell no.

But the thought of some other guy with their filthy little hands all over your gorgeous little body? The anger just happened to land on you, rather than Jason. “Uh, some guy, Jason,” you said, not quite hearing it was a question he hadn’t actually meant for you to answer.

“It was a rhetorical question,” he muttered under his breath, “finish off the work, and I’ll think about it,”. You nodded, rushing to complete the tasks. Lando didn’t want you to go on the date. At all.

Tasks

dust the bookshelf

make dinner

clean the couch

Three tasks. You could finish that if you tried quick enough. So you multi-tasked - you left the pasta to boil as you dusted the bookshelf, and cleaned a few pillows too. It was all well and good - and very much frustrating to Lando. Very.

“Go on your stupid date,” he muttered when you stood in front of him proudly with the pasta bowl. You arrived at the restaurant, looking gorgeous as ever in your baby pink dress, your hair untied, looking radiant. God. You were gorgeous.

“Hey,” Jason smirked when he saw you, “looking good, a little covered though,”. Ew? Straight with the dirty jokes? What the fuck? “Uh, thanks,” you said, eyeing his hoodie and sweats. Lando pulled it off much better.

Wait.

Lando? Why were you thinking of him? This was a date with you and Jason, not Lando, for fucks’ sake. Though a date with Lando didn’t sound too bad…no! Snap out of it, Jason needed your attention, not Lando. “Uh, hey? Bird?” Jason said. Wow. Way to objectify too. Jason was a little ass.

And he looked nothing like this profile picture. The dinner went okay, albeit, it was only 15 minutes into the 6 quid pasta he made you share due to his ‘budget’. “So,” Jason grinned, with what he probably thought was an attractive smirk, “wanna head home and get…busy?”.

Oh how you wanted to say no. But you were sexually frustrated and there was only so much a vibrator could do. So you begrudgingly agreed, following Jason to his lousy car, sitting in and avoiding the fast food bags on the floor, trying not to touch the grease marks along what could have been a decent car seat.

Thank god Lando’s car was better. No! Fuck, why was he always coming up? You didn’t like Lando like that! Surely not, right? Jason’s apartment was just as icky as you expected, as he led you to a gross bed, the sheets sticky and full of crumbs as he worked at removing your dress.

Wow, congratulations. His dick was small too. Great. This, ladies and gentlemen, was a man who thought taking off a girl’s bra was adequate foreplay. In the end, this lousy excuse for a ‘man’ was so ridiculously shit at sex, that you faked it and made an excuse to walk your goldfish, and left for Lando’s.

“Nice date, he must’ve finished fast,” Lando said, checking his watch. You hadn’t even been gone an hour, the damn drive had been longer than the experience. You grumbled something incoherent, crossing your arms as Lando eyed your mascara.

“You’ve been crying,” he said, his words more a statement than a question. “Might have,” you mumbled begrudgingly, eyes on the floor as you sank into the sofa. “Was he that bad?” you were surprised Lando wasn’t even belittling you anymore. “I faked it,” you said, pointedly refusing to look him in the eye.

“Couldn’t even make you cum?” he said, your eyes wide at how blunt he was. “Well, I’m gonna say it how it is,” Lando said, an amused twinkle in his eyes. He didn’t even seem bothered by your surprise. “What was the reason? Too small? Couldn’t even pleasure you right? Couldn’t find the clit?”.

Lord, you’d never heard it out more lewd than Lando had just said. “All of it,” you said, cheeks rosy as he frowned. “So…you’re horny and you faked it,” he said, summarising the events pretty well. You nodded as he tsked, his eyes trained on you.

“Well,” he said, like he was expecting something, making you look up with a frown. “I’m not having my assistant all worked up and horny, deal with it,” Lando grumbled. He wanted you to get off? Here? In the bathroom? Somewhere else? “I…uh,” you said, looking down to your thighs before back to him.

“You’re fucking incapable, Y/N,” Lando said, using your first name instead of ‘you’ or ‘assistant’. Your breath hitched as he moved in front of you, lifting you up with ease as he admired your body under the dress. You let out a little huff as he dropped you onto the sofa properly, your legs splayed across the pillows, subconsciously wrapping round his waist.

“I have to help you with everything, don’t I?” Lando scowled, his voice laced with mocking as he looked down at you. “You’re useless, Y/N,”. You would’ve protested or said you weren’t had it not been for the closeness, or the fact that his hand was trailing up your inner thigh, tugging your panties down.

“These are small,” he mused, looking at the thin lace in his hand as you blushed, “I’ll keep them for later,” he pushed it into his pocket, moving his attention to lift your dress. “Holy shit…” he gasped, his scowl falling off as he looked between your legs.

Surely this was a slice of heaven, no? God. You were beautiful. You hissed as he ran a finger between your folds, you were so damn wet and for what? His words? “Desperate, huh?” Lando smirked, mirroring your thoughts. “I have my finger on your clit, Y/N,” he said, a gasp leaving your lips as he planted his finger with just the right pressure.

“You’re really gonna be embarrassed now?” Lando said with a mock pout, his tone belittling as he dipped his finger into your hole. “Wow, Jason was real shit, wasn’t he?” Lando mused, “couldn’t even stretch you out,”.

A small mewl left your lips as he curled his digit, his thumb stroking across your sensitive clit. “Wow, so responsieve,” he hummed, his movements becoming easier and easier with your wetness. “Is that a good enough demonstration? Or need me to help you finish it all?” he raised a brow.

“Are you that pathetic, Y/N?”

Yes. You were so desperate for him, you didn’t care about your own dignity anymore, just the way he curled his finger so perfectly, how he hit places you could only dream off. Fuck. “Lando, god,” you choked out, his other finger pressed in as well, stretching you out. “Need me to do it for you?” Lando repeated his words.

“Y-Yes,” you gasped, eyes rolling as he sped up, your high building in your stomach. “Pathetic,” he clucked his tongue, “useless, pathetic little girl,”. Lando was meant to be scolding you, and any normal person would feel ashamed or annoyed at the words but you? No, it just helped build up the heat.

“Gonna cum, now?” Lando gritted his teeth, leaning forwards, his fangs bared slightly. “Go on, then. Cum for me,”. Your back arched at his words, your release washing over you as you shuddered, a satisfied smirk across Lando’s face. “Good,” he said simply, moving his fingers as you clenched.

His jaw went slack as he watched you, his olive eyes scanning your oh-so gorgeous, spent body. “Learn to do things yourself,” Lando said through gritted teeth (though he didn’t mind awfully helping you in some areas), “or if you need me to do it for you, just ask,”.

A/N - a h aha ha ha ha ha ha haha remember when lando won a race? last week jn miami? ha ha ha hé was so good, btu when’s oscar gonna win a race, ive been waitign soooooooooo logn ha ha ha hahahah. my friend hda to proff tead my fic hahahaha ha ha

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #f1 #lando norris smut #just an assistant

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raceydays-hopelesshaze · 2 years

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Being a hater is all fun and games until the stupidity of what others had to say in class haunts you

#people are so goddamn stupid #WHY ARE YOU PROPSING BUILDING A MOTE IN A RESIDENTIAL AREA PRONE TO FLOODING????#*moat #IF YOU USE THE DAMN THING TO CLEAN USED WATER ITS GOING TO SMELL YOU BAFOONS #‘‘no cars in our idea little town 😌’’ ok how are stores/restaurants gonna get their shit? what happens when there’s a fire or medical?#IF YOU CHARGE PPL FOR USING A TRASHCAN THEY WILL THROW THAT TRASH ON THE FLOOR OR THE RECYCLING #ETC ETC ETC #AHAGHHHHHHHHH #dear lord… the layouts they had… literally hostile #å

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oreo-creampie · 1 year

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𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮/ 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫 & 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vibrator, fingering you in the car, cock sucking, public/caught (kind of), light begging, jerking off, small hints of handjob, light dacryphilia, overstimulation, satoru records you sucking suguru’s dick, praise & degradation, calling toji daddy, hints of embarrassment/humiliation

You’re leaning over, with your ass partly in the air. Your legs angled to dangle off the back car seat, with your panties around your ankles. Bobbing your head, gliding Suguru’s thick, veiny cock along your tongue. Keeping your throat relaxed, taking him deep with every other bob.

Slick sounds come from the front passenger seat. Satoru glides his thick fist down his long, veiny cock. Holding his phone up, angling it to record the sloppy, eager head you’re giving Suguru.

He pans over to your drenched, stuffed cunt. “Her beautiful cunt is so damn loud. Both lips look so pretty.” Satoru's breathy groans mixed with Suguru’s rough groans, getting you off. Shifting his phone's front camera back to your face.

Toji grumbles, “One of you fuckers is driving on the way back and I get to ride with our horny pretty mama. Her beautiful body in that damn dress is making my cock fuckin' ache." You gag around Suguru, and fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

Spit covers your chin. Fondling his balls, too big for your hand, hanging off the sides of your palm. You groan around his cock when Suguru strokes your sweet spot, Your cunt clenching his thick fingers filling up, stretching out your soaking wet, tight cunt.

You couldn’t enough of the three of them. Their brawny arms, chiseled abs, thick thighs, large cocks, and heavy balls full of cum. You've been hornier than ever.

Satoru lets out a loud groan, this cock throbs, thick cum spilling onto his fingers. "Nnng fuck!" Giving his sensitive cock a few more strokes until it's too much. Lifting his hand up, staring at his creamy white cum.

"Sweetheart should lick my cum off my hand." Groaning around Suguru's cock, deep-throating him, he holds your head down. Thick, warm cum spurting from his cock.

You gag hard around Suguru, your body tensing up, your soaking wet cunt clenching. "I'm almost done with her mouth. Fuck right there, her mouth feels so hot, and her hands are so soft on my balls." Suguru pumps his fingers faster, curling them at just the right time.

Your eyes roll back, tears streaming down your cheeks. Suguru lifts you off his cock by your hair, messing it up partly. He croons, "That's it, good girl." He kisses your forehead, slipping his fingers out. Holding them in front of you for you to clean yourself off.

"You gonna be a good cum slut and suck my fingers clean too?" Suguru's fingers leave your mouth with a soft pop. Moving towards the front, leaning over grabbing his sensitive cock, lifting it up. Wrapping your lips around Satoru, taking all of his softening cock into your mouth.

You slowly glid Satoru's cock out of your mouth with a loud groan. Reaching over, rubbing Toji's hard cock through his baggy sweats. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Suguru slaps your ass. Nudging your tight, soaking wet cunt with a small vibrator.

Suguru offers, "Toji how about this, I'll let you use the remote for the vibrator I brought. You can decide if she cums or not." Pushing the toy deep in your cunt. Your sensitive cunt clenches when he brushes your g-spot.

Suguru uses the hand sensitizer attached to your mini backpack. He passes the remote to Toji as the car slows. "We've been spoilin' our pretty slut a bit too much. She should beg to cum." You move from cleaning Satoru's cock to his sucking on his long, thick fingers.

The car turns into the parking lot. Its tinted windows are too dark for anyone to see in. Giving you a moment to straighten yourself out before going into the restaurant.

Satoru points out. "She'd have to keep her voice low, so no one finds how much of a pervert she is. Dinner with some entertainment." He slips his fingers out of your mouth, cleaning the spit off with a tissue.

He grins, putting up his cock. "How ya balls feel?" You moan when the vibrator flicks on. Its overwhelming vibrations make your toes curl. Whing when Toji switches the setting, making it pulse every few seconds.

It's winding you up enough to keep you bothered without ever letting you cum. You break instantly, whining, "Please Daddy let me cum again! I'll jerk you off under the table. Gonna make sure you cum too. Please." Satoru grabs another tissue and gently grabs your face, carefully cleaning up your tears.

"Love what a nasty pervert you are for us mama. Keep that up and I'll give ya whatever you want." The pulses steady out into a continuous strong hum. Your cunt is still so sensitive from cumming on Suguru's fingers. The pleasure is perfectly overwhelming.

You bite into your bottom lip. Satoru croons, "So beautiful, seeing your tears makes me want to fuck you in the backseat till your sobbing." He kisses both your cheeks, then your lips. "But I want to see you struggle with how hard you're cumming even more." Suguru fixes your hair, adjusting your clothes the best he can.

Toji orders, "Fix your underwear and get out, Daddy wants his cock jerked off n' some food." Satoru and Suguru pull away, getting out of the car. Along with Toji, leaving you to struggle to pull your panties up. Soaking them more with your drooling cunt.

Your legs are shaky, your knees threatening to buckle. You grab onto Satoru, and he croons, "Aw our poor darling is struggling to walk already. Don't worry I'll help you, want me to order your favorite for you too. So you don't accidentally moan talking to the server." You focus on keeping quiet and walking. Toji slaps your ass, making you stumble.

Toji states, "She shoulder order, she's a big girl, she can handle it like how she handles us." Satoru steadies you and Suguru urges,

"Tell us how your beautiful, sloppy, tight cunt feels darling. " Toji turns up the intensity of the vibrations when you try to speak. Forcing you to cover your mouth, stifling your groan.

Toji insists, "Answer him mama, be a good girl of us." Satoru slips his arm out of your grasp to wrap around your waist. "Hurry for we reach the entrance or you're not cumming till we get our food." You're too close for him to stop now.

You whimper, "It's too good!" it's not enough, Toji urges,

"Keep going." Glancing down, admiring his large bulge Toji isn't bother to hide. His sweats would make it easy to jerk his cock off under the table when you got inside.

"I'm a dirty pervert who wants to keep cumming. Want the three of you to keep playing with my pussy." Your cheeks burn with embarrassment when you gain the look of a passing onlooker.

The older man's gaze lingers until Toji grunts, "Problem?" The man walks faster, casting his eyes down. Satoru tucks you into his side. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You mutter, "Oh fuck." Bitting into your bottom lip, humiliation flashing through you doesn't stop the toy’s vibrations from forcing your sensitive cunt to cum. Your slick dripping down your thighs. Wrinkling up Satoru's shirt in your tight grasp.

Satoru points out. "A second later and he would have seen the pretty look on your face when your cumming." Suguru opens the restaurant's door for you, to walk in with Satoru's hand on your lower back.

The moment Satoru crosses the threshold behind you, you attach to his hip again. Your thoughts vanish, leaving your head empty. The overwhelming stimulation persistent stimulation in your sloppy cunt consuming you.

Toji turns up the vibrations once more, a moan slips out, and your legs give. If not for Satoru your knees would hit the restaurant's entrance.

strawberry brat all works

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webbluvrsugar · 2 months

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was working as a waitress and thought: Rafe Cameron would be a shameless, dirty client.

PART ONE — PART TWO.

You started your shift a couple hours ago, it’s been nice, not too busy, no rude costumers, the evening is quiet, you’re just cleaning around the counter and hey — you’ve even made a few tips, and if that means that you’ll be doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the night while pretending you’re working and get some extra cash, you’ll keep cleaning that counter for the fourth time today.

Everything’s going the way it should, except when a large group of boys barge in the restaurant, you can hear a few mutters, “Nah man, you’re not hearing me this shit’s like the best place in town.” and by mutters, it’s more like a loud deep voice breaking the silence of the place.

You already know that they’re gonna be trouble, but your coworker already escaped to the kitchen and you’re forced to drop the easy task and go and greet them with a smile.

One of them stands tall, you notice his clothing, the expensive watches, the gold chain, the polo with a little ‘R.C’ engraved — these guys are loaded. He checks you out too, bluntly staring at your body through your clothes before his eyes go back to yours.

“Uhh.. table for seven?” He questions, you nod.

“Right this way.” You respond, walking them to the a nice isolated corner with a fresh made table, if he’s going to check you out, you should at least make some big, fat cash from the service.

He’s laughing around with his friends, nudging them one on his shoulder when they talk about how hot the waitress is, loud boyish laughs like they’re teenagers, you’re sure they’re at least twenty.

They sit down, Rafe sits at the edge of the table, closer to you when you drop the menus on the table, the short little skirt flowing and only showing the shorts underneath, Rafe wishes you weren’t wearing any, but it’s not like he can control that.

You come to take their orders, he’s already man spreading on the chair, a toothy grin on his face as he adjusts his polo, then his shorts — on purpose —, you look down almost immediately to the motion, swallowing after a glimpse of his crotch before you look up and finally focus on your job, which at this point, you’re not sure what it is, Rafe chuckles lowly, he waits for his friends to order before he does.

“So, f’me I’d like a coke…” you start to take notes, he interrupts right away. “No, no, wait actually, a cider.” You scratch the notepad and start to take note of that too, he interrupts, again. “Wait, make it a beer, large.”

His friends laugh at his childish behaviour, you sigh, give him a glance before you take note of that.

“And to eat?” You ask, leaning in slightly.

“A blooming onion annnd….uhhh…” he stalls, just for the sake of it, his eyes go up and down at you again before he looks back at the menu, taps on the food he wants before speaking. “A truffled burger.”

He says, you don’t take notes, you only raise a brow at him.

“Are you sure?”

His friends run quiet at the slight defiance you give away, Rafe’s smile slightly fades, but he’s impressed, so he scoffs.

“Yeah babe, ‘m sure.” He adjusts his watch, making sure you can see the expensive diamonds on it, as if asking subtly for some respect.

You finally take note of what he asked for, a genuine smirk on your face playing now, you grab the menus, get ready to leave.

“Thanks sweetheart..” he says as he watches you leave, his friends erupt in laughter, you feel like you’re getting mocked, but why is it so damn hot?

It takes a while for their orders to come, but you make sure Rafe’s last, he notices that, he can see the orders coming and his is just tossed on the back, his jaw clenches, but as soon as he sees you coming in with his order, a soft little smile on your face as you’re pleased with the look on his, it’s almost… cute, so he doesn’t complain, and doesn’t even mention that his burger is a little cold.

You come to clean their table when their finished, taking the multiple drinks and putting it on the balcony, you can definitely feel his eyes hovering over you every now and then, but this time you don’t mind it, especially not when you’re bringing him the bill and lean down to hand him it, boobs almost spilling out your top just for him to see, and he bites into it, scoffing lowly.

“Card or cash?” You ask.

“Card.” He responds, simply, he likes the attitude you put on, it’s nice and refreshing.

You bring him the machine, he pays, you expect nothing of it after they leave, but then when you walk to the table to make sure it’s all clean, you notice a large stack of cash, 300 hundred bucks and a message that says.

‘You got a nice little piece of ass, call me.’

It’s gross.

Disgusting.

But why are you dialling his number after work?

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lilyarchived · 3 months

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too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore. I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days.

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?”

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right.

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten. You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-”

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.”

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic@tf141gloryhole@montenegroisr@princesslikesfanfics@hoelesss

#lily writes #lily writes nights #to suffer is what you want #to suffer is what you get #modern warfare 2 #cod angst #captain john price x reader #captain john price #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #simon riley angst #captain price angst #captain john price x you #cod mw2 fluff #cod price #cod x reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 months

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never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

“What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I’m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut

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appleblueberry-pie · 5 months

Text

sigh can't stop thinking abt him

you love making him mad. he looks so good when he's kneading the bread with a force you haven't seen from him before. he looks so good with those veins popping out of his head and arms. looks so good gritting his teeth and muttering profanities underneath his breath. you ruined his entiiiiire day.

first, you misplaced his work clothes. had the laundry running in the morning instead of the night, so he had to wait for the dryer to be done with his stuff. that made him about 30 minutes late to work. then you didn't make him breakfast because you overslept and 'forgot'. that way he'd come home hangry and cranky. then you didn't even make him dinner either. and as a man that you've been spoiling for years, he gets upset when he hasn't had his fill of food.

so instead of overspending some more at a random restaurant, he decided to make his own stuff since you wanted to be a hardass.

as he kneaded the bread, he tried not to, but began thinking of the other things that you had done throughout the day. you didn't answer to any of his texts today. you came home late. you didn't even make proper conversation with him to fix all of these problems you caused throughout the day, so he knew that you were purposefully causing trouble then.

and even after all of that, you decided to try and get back on his good side again. kissing his cheek to greet him, asking if he needed help and that you'll run him a bath. he promptly ignored you like you did to him all day and continued roughly kneading the dough before quickly placing it into the bowl to continue making his own meal. you fiddled with your cotton night dress before softly saying you'll just clean up around the house instead.

you didn't. you just laid on the couch and watched him cook.

he didn't even want to eat anymore. he was too pissed and horny. his stomach kept twisting and turning and he didn't even want anything you would cook either. he just wanted to bury his face into your pussy and call it a night.

he wanted to fuck you. he watched himself get hard and let out a shaky sigh, gripping the counter with an inch of his life. he couldn't give into you, not like this. not after what you've been doing all day. but in the back of his head, he knew he'd give in like every other time.

as you've said before, you loved to piss him off. but you'd never tease him. you wanted him to come to you, give into you and chase after you. acting innocent when you really weren't was the most amusing thing you've ever done, in your opinion. and it works on him every time. even if he couldn't see, you watched him with worry on your face and excitement staining your panties.

Kento wanted you so damn bad. he turned and saw you already staring at him and he watched you look away. he promptly turned off the oven that wasn't of use anymore and walked over to you, ordering you to look at him. you sat up and stared up at him, seeing his stone cold face and got (fake and real) nervous.

he roughly grabs your soft and warm face, making you whine in slight discomfort at his sudden actions. you blinked your glossy eyes up at him, not knowing what he'd do and wanted to ask. before you could, he let go and sighed heavily, moving your body to make you lay on your stomach on the couch. you tried to sit up, but he had straddled your legs to make sure you wouldn't move. when you spoke out his name, he threatened to shove his sack into your mouth to busy your mouth with his gold instead of nasty words for once.

you were nearly immobile and wasn't allowed to speak as his wandering hands tore your favorite pair of underwear so he could stick two of his thick fingers into your sopping and aching pussy. a long whine was pulled out of your throat as his fingers slowly thrusted in and out, curling in that special spot as he began your punishment that felt more like a reward than anything. he knew you liked when he was rough, so you didn't know what he'd expect if you didn't cry as much as he'd want you to.....not like you'd say that out loud, though.

his hot mouth kissed and slobbered on your neck while his fingers thrusted faster inside of you, creating that delicious feeling of cramps of so much pleasure that made you attempt to squirm underneath him. you moaned louder at the feeling and Kento groaned as his bulge rubbed against your bare ass cheeks.

you wanted to call out his name, but knew it would serve no purpose unless you wanted him to mock you and call you names. he suddenly pulled out his fingers and sucked what was inside of you off of his own digits. you looked back at him slowly and he grabbed the back of your neck.

"I wonder where you get your attitude from."

You roll your eyes at his statement and look back at him as far as you can turn your restricted head. "only one guy i could get it from." he scowled at your answer. "Little girl,"

you wanted to smile so bad at his answer and considered asking him straight up to put it in. "I didn't teach you to talk to me like that."

"no, you didn't, sir." he leans over you and mutters into your temple, "tell me who's pussy this is." you crane your neck back to try and reach to his lips even though you really can't. "yours, sir." you whisper, heart beating erratically in your chest.

"yeah?" your mind seemed to slip into a headspace the more he asked if you were his. and like clockwork, your mouth fixed to speak the words you both wanted to hear. "ye-" you cut off your own words with a gasp as his cock head stretches your entrance, his warm length filling every part of you like you wished he would since a few days ago. that burning desire to have him in you and fuck you like he hated you that burned into the back of your mind, now resurfaced as he continued pushing inside of you.

you couldn't speak, your mouth remaining agape at the feeling and his hands tightening around your neck and waist. he kept whispering praises to you at his first act of the night which managed a small whimper out of you. he pulls back out slowly, the feeling of him being pulled away too, before he pushes back in. your hands find any part of the couch to grab on, clutching it tightly as you automatically grind back into his hips in hopes for him to reach deeper. he calls you little nicknames when even at your most useless state, you find it in you to take more out of him.

a few minutes pass by, and he's already set at a comfortable fucking speed, a soft clap sounding in the air when you two continue to collide. if he looked close enough, your essence covered the base of his dick and would continue to build there until he decided to stop or it would drip down occasionally.

louder moans were pulled out of you, words not even in your mental dictionary anymore since the only thing you could focus on was him. you couldn't answer any questions and didn't even respond to any of the sly comments he made to make fun of your quick submission. you wanted to feel him, this position on the couch making it hard for you to do so. as if he understood your unintelligible jumble of sounds, he leaned down closer to you, his chest touching your back and his hands reaching around to touch whatever he wanted on your body. he stopped thrusting for a bit for you to catch your breath and you softly panted, your hands finding his own. Kento hummed in appreciation and pecked at your face from behind.

"You ready to talk nice to me again?" You nodded and told him yes. He chuckled at how dream-like your voice had sounded and dug his nose into your hair. "We'll see about that tomorrow morning. Until then....you got until later tonight to prove yourself to me again."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #jjk nanami kento #jjk nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento smut #kento x reader smut #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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toxycodone · 3 months

Note

GOD modern Laios would make such a good little trophy/house husband 🥺 he LOVES cooking dinner for you when you come home after a long day of being the breadwinner. you get to spoil and dote on him and he gets to spend all day doing nerd shit and taking care of the house (he LOVES cooking you dinner and seeing the look of relief on your face coming home to a clean house & warm meal after a long day)

on your anniversary you come home and he's cooked a fucking 5 star meal- like the kinda shit you only get at some fancy ass overpriced restaurant . After dinner you suprise him with a huge intricate Lego set you know he's been wanting but wouldn't ask for because it's soooo expensive & he nearly cries.

He spends like 2 hours going down on you out of pure joy alone before letting you tie him to the bed and ride him until he DOES cry- whimpering "thank you" and "I love you"'s over and over before you've even let him cum. tears falling down his flushed cheeks and eyes rolling back in his head as he writhes against the restraints, so desperate and grateful for whatever you give him. such a good boy, your perfect little house husband 😌

GOOOOOOD YES

okay. Since we got minimum wage retail Laios confirmed by Kui. House husband Laios is so fucking real.

Laios who’s a total part timer since meeting you, he works for pocket change and like. Bare minimum benefits just to keep things comfy for the two of you while he basically puts everything in savings. (Until like one day he just quits tbh when yall are really settled in)

But like in my mind he works under the table at Senshi’s restaurant for cash + to learn about cooking! They go on fishing/hunting/hiking trips together and go to the farmers market to get fresh produce and Senshi teaches Laios everything he knows.

He cleans up your apartment every day. Like, he’s not the best or a maid or anything. He’s just a dude. But he does recognize that he’s immensely privileged and does his best to show you hey. He does care. And he wants you to not have to bust your ass after coming from a full time shift. He does basic things like dishes and stuff and on the weekends you guys maybe spend an hour or two maximum cleaning on the weekends together

LAIOS. PACKS YOUR LUNCH. He love love LOVES doing this and he has little sandwich shapers to make them into little dinosaurs or dolphins or something. And he does bentos with cute little pins and molds and he lovingly spends time on this. I think he genuinely enjoys doing this stuff and testing out new recipes.

And cooking in general!! Like that is how Laios shows he loves you forreal. He genuinely pays attention to your tastes and tries to “gourmet” your favorite foods. (I’ve been rereading the manga and when Marcille’s upset he offers to try his best to make whatever she wants to eat out of monsters and it’s so cute…). Like you want grilled cheese? How about grilled Brie on fresh made bread? Bagels? Oh yeah he tried a new recipe at Senshi’s at 4 am, here’s fresh out of the oven pastries. It’s so cute.

I think. He loves like those random ass kitchen gadgets too. He 100% has an ice cream maker and he makes custom flavors for you.

And he just loves watching you eat. It’s such an expression of love. He works so damn hard to make you smile and make you happy. And his food never sucks because 1. Senshi teaches him everything 2. He ALWAYS tests recipes before going way too hard with them. Like he pays attention to your palette so if he made something gross or something just. Not to your tastes you’d let him know in the trial stage.

And GOD. Laios is just a fucking sex toy I swear. He’s genuinely like. A subby service top. He wants you to absolutely use him however you want but he likes to be the one that’s doing most of the work because he likes to spoil you with his body…(also he cums super easily in my hc so if he tops he’s able to like. Pull out and give you head or switch positions when he’s getting too close)

But when you spoil him and ride him…tell him how handsome he is and how much you love him. yeah he’s crying and whimpering about how much he loves you and how you’re just so fucking perfect. It makes your head spin because Laios genuinely makes you feel like you’re the only person on earth for him.

#this. this is beautiful anon thank you so much.#dungeon meshi #laios touden #laios x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

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bahrtofane · 7 months

Text

about time

things have always been easy with trent, attached to the hip since you could remember. your other half, his biggest supporter. things were bound to turn romantic no? everyone was rooting for it, secretly you always were too.

your first date as a couple goes more or less how you planned, awkward and full of teasing.

word count : 3.1K+

watch it : mild jealousy, cuties, fluff fluff, kinda domestic near the end?

—--

“eat your food."

you squint, "what the hell else am i doing, you eat your food."

he scoffs, "im literally half way done with my plate."

"it's literally not even a proper portion of course you're almost done." you point at his tiny little section of steak on about a tablespoon of mash potatoes.

he waves you off and makes a comment about the "liberty of a kitchen."

you ignore this and take another bite of whatever the hell you ordered. you don't remember. you were too busy trying not to focus too much on the man in front of you. the all black outfit is insanity, you know he only went for it because you told him ages ago all black looks the best on him. and now here you are. suffering

you just nodded to whatever the waitress was saying. though she could have done with less ogglying at your date. your trent.

you take pride in knowing your his go to, his best friend, his #1. you've been by his side longer than you can remember being without. he's your other half in every sense. before the fame and money, lavish life and dwindling time. he's always been yours somehow.

maybe you should've known at some point that feelings were bound to be brewing.

everyone and their mother had told you. hell, even your own mother had told you so. but you waved them off. he's my friend, no trent is my best friend, ew no that would be so weird, i can't even stand hin on a good day, he's annoying, nope just friends.

now look at you. seated across from each other, his sleeves rolled up while you eat in candle light. the dark blue drapery of the establishment makes this feel way more intimate than needed. and the chandeliers that hang over your head are enough to make you stare in wonder.

his sharp features almost soften like this, tucked away in a far corner away from prodding eyes and unnecessary media attention. where it's only the two of you in your little bubble, and the soft live piano that travels from the main foye. you enjoy this, but mainly you enjoy him.

you noticed he cleaned up his facial hair for this, it makes your heart melt. the silver jewelry that shines on his golden skin is a mirror of the silver that drapes across you. he told you to wear silver. the maniac. he planned this all the way down to the damn jewelry.

(the both of you are matching in general, which makes you feel something closer to insanity, it gives you a thrill when people’s gazes wash over the two of you and they can so easily tell you are here together. for each other. the stares you got while walking in don't go unforgotten.)

he's the one who dragged you to this restaurant, one much more fancy that you care for. any establishment that calls for floor length dresses to eat is above you, but he insisted. even taking time to tell you how stunning you looked on the way here. your cheeks were on fire the whole time you tried to come up with a counter, failing miserably and just telling him he looked handsome too.

what a gentleman, driving you here and keeping a hand on yours the whole time. you were sweating the whole time. this whole thing is new to you. but you try not to explode while you sit across from him, sipping on your water to avoid eye contact.

trent pretends to suddenly be very interested in the silverware, but you don't miss the way his gaze still manages to shift over to you, landing somewhere between your eyes and lips.

you sigh loudly, your appetite disappearing while you push your plate in front of you.

"do not even start." he warns, fork raised and pointed at you.

"i didn't even do anything ! what's with you tonight. "

"could ask you the same thing," he mumbles between mouthfuls of his steak, "you're being, very weird."

"im on a dinner date with you how else do you want me to act."

he coughs awkwardly at this, "i don't know ! normally. you haven't made fun of my shoes yet. where's the old grouchy evil and conniving friend i know. you're too, " he waves his fork in the air trying to find the right word, "civil."

you snort, "that's a mouthful. i don't know this whole dynamic shift is taking a while to get used to, " you shrug.

"we need to stop saying i don't know so often." he sighs, rubbing his eyes aggressively.

you choose to ignore that bit, "and i need to be civil in public or your adoring fans might have my head."

he rolls his eyes, "that's a stretch."

you wave him off with a hand, "you never know. crazy people do crazy things."

he looks at you fondly at this, giving you one of his signature smiles, you look away and change the subject as fast as you can think. you don't need weak knees in a high end establishment.

"you know i would've been just fine with takeout and a movie." you mumble softly.

he gives you a soft look " i know, but i wanted to make it special. take you out somewhere nice for a change. we never do that."

"you're not going to let me pay are you?" you muse.

he gives you a look, "im offended you even brought that up. i hope you know you're never going to be paying for things ever again right."

"and i hope you know i'm going to fight you over it the whole way through."

he finds this amusing, "yeah yeah yeah shut up and eat your food, i think my socks are sliding off my foot."

"i don't want to hear about your sweaty foot while i eat trent, gross." you fake gag.

"cry about it." he dead pans.

you narrow your eyes at him, "i'm going to talk about the pimple i popped on my shoulder, in great detail. is that what you want?"

"ew gross hell no. no more socks or feet geez." he scoffs.

you cackle, "problem solved then."

he rolls his eyes but goes back to eating anyway, cutting his steak with way too much force than necessary.

you on the other hand have to play tug of war with the fabric of your dress in order to keep it where you want it.

"you want to leave don't you?" he comments.

"that obvious?" he nods, "yep," popping the p.

"i don't want it to seem like I'm ungrateful for the effort or anything, because i swear it's not like that. i'm happy to be with you regardless and yeah. we don't have to leave." you try to explain.

as much as you enjoy spending time with him this isn't your scene. you're aching to go home, and so are you poor ankles. these heels can only be worn for so long and they are coming up on their expiration date for the night. maybe trent can help take them- no fuck. bad. bad bad. this is a dinner, you're at dinner be civil.

trent seems to be none the wiser as his attention remains on you.

"why would we stay if you don't want to ?" he looks at you confused, brows drawn together, arm propped up against the table while he waits for an explanation.

"because you're the one who wanted to come here?" "so? if you wanna go home then we'll go home."

home. oh. he's starting to refer to his house as home. for the both of you. that does something to you, you're almost dizzy. god how can one person be so sweet.

"we can finish up and head home? i really don't mind." you suggest.

he hums at this, "alright then. we’re stopping by the chinese place you like so much, you didn't even eat. "

"to be fair, the portions are the size of my pinkie and i think they took too much creative liberty in the kitchen." you wrinkle your nose.

he giggles, that shy little spurt of laughter, the one you love so much and always try to coax out of him, "i forget the flavors can be uh, adventurous with most of their dishes. "

you chuckle, "definitely adventurous."

he flags down the waitress from earlier who bats her eyelashes one too many times at him while you roll your eyes. he gives you a glare while he pays, before you can open your mouth. while you get up, dusting your dress down, he presses you flush to him, effectively shutting down any advances. you can't help but grin at the little act. even if your skin is on fire from the contact.

your lead out the back by one of the valets to avoid the busy main section and the endless cameras that wait for you from the front.

you step out to a colder night than you expected, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to warm yourself up. the valet steps away to retrieve his car while you shiver harder than a skeleton animatronic in a halloween pop up store.

trent notices, coming up behind you to wrap both arms around your waist, pulling you close.

"cold?" he has the nerve to ask, flush against you and the damn dress that clings against your skin, his breath tickles your ear while you lick your lips nervously. his arms are much more muscular up close. the whole of him is, you can feel the efforts of his training as they hold you. good lord you're going to lose your mind. and the chest you're pressed up against? do not.

"a little." you whisper back, afraid to say much more.

he hums, rubbing your arms for you, sending goosebumps all the way down your spine, and he has the audacity to chuckle at your reaction.

"cars gonna be here soon."

you can only nod dumbly.

he unlatches when the car comes into view. thanking the man with a clap on shoulder, almost like an old friend, and a generous tip.

he opens the door for you, holding his arm out to help you balance, sweet of him.

you duck inside while he says his last thanks and goodbyes to the valet, turning on the heat first thing when he gets inside.

the drive is silent, not much to talk about after you confessed your love to each other just days before.

you could almost laugh at the complete 180 from this week to the last. youre so so glad it ended up this way nonetheless. you don't think you could handle another second suffering in silence.

how it all went down makes you cry in full honesty. it was an argument. over fucking instagram. you were bitching about the girls who are on his dick and he called you over protective and you defended yourself because duh. that somehow had spiraled into how he's insane, and then your relationship. and then you stormed out, don't ask, you don't remember.

he tracked you down at your place with flowers as an apology and you just lost it, because what kind of friend gets flowers and calls in just platonic?

lucky for the both of you it wasnt platonic, not to him, not to you.

he confessed first, that you were more important to him than any of the women he follows combined and so much more. you're his everything can't you see that? he loves you, in every sense. he hates seeing you upset so please, don't cry.

you kissed him, slow and hesitant while he broke out in giggles.

"does that mean what i think it does ?" he had whispered against your lips.

you nodded, shy and tender.

"i need to hear it. please, say it." breathless, at the cusp of losing his grip on everything.

"i love you trent, more than i think i can explain. you are my other half yeah? my everything."

and so here you are, watching the shapes of the city breeze past you as the gps guides you to your beloved chinese take out. you can almost taste the noodles you're so ready for it you're starving.

a hand rests on your thigh, softly tracing shapes the rest of the way there and you hide a smile. you don't think you'll ever get used to any of this new found affection. things you once only day dreamed of having now right in front of you.

you're drowsy by the time you pull into the familiar parking lot. you giggle at just how ridiculous the two of you look. stepping out of a probably hundred thousand dollar car, if not more. dressed like you're going to the ballon d'or. all while walking into a quiet little family own take out spot.

trent takes your hand again, while you fight to bunch up your dress to get over the obnoxious curve.

he fights a smile while locking the car behind you.

"you try getting over this mountain in heels and this long ass dress i dare you." you hiss.

he snorts but keeps his mouth shut as you inside the familiar space. sighing in glee.

the kind older woman who always takes your orders doesn't bat an eye at your dress, but welcomes you with a warm hug.

“the usual?” she beams, even at this time of night. cheery as ever.

“yes please !”

she smiles, getting to work making your order while you drum against your thigh. bad habit.

you’re very thankful it’s as late as it is, the place is dead empty. a little safe haven.

you reach into your purse but mr “i’ll pay for it all” stops you.

you tsk, “come on this is my spot. i want to tip her well. let me at least have this after that fancy meal.”

“i said i would pay,” he states firmly.

“i know, but paying here is special to me. and i want it to come from my hand. she deserves it after all the kindness she’s shown to me over the years.” you gesture to her wrapping up your boxes.

you remember when you used to be a student low on cash, she would always fill your plate with double of everything or just give you the next size up, and extra dessert, free drink. the little things, life is all about the little things.

he sighs, “fine fine. i won’t take this away from you. “

you smile, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. he waits for you on the side while you go up to the counter.

she smiles at you knowingly, “finally made a move on that one huh?”

you blush, “we both made moves and things worked out well. “

she grins, “finally. i thought it would never happen, you know. maybe i’ll get to see your kids too huh?”

you chuckle, kids with trent huh. not a bad idea, “maybe you will.” you sigh fondly. handing her the money.

you hand a few boxes to trent and motion to the door before she catches on. but it’s a little late.

you sneak out of there while she’s yelling at you to take your change, “keep it ! it’s all for you !!” you shout back. giggling while you and trent make your escape.

the ride to his house is filled with laughter and you don’t ever remember being happier.

its all giggles and shy smiles as he leads you up to his home, hand in hand while you race up the steps and make a dash for the elevator. the door man gives you too a look but doesn’t comment, yet. you know he will sooner or later but you don’t care.

the take out boxes are split in between the two of you as you hold them snug against your chest. humming softly as the elevator opens.

the ride up is filled with soft teasing, and more compliments.

"im serious!" he shoves you gently, "you look, incredible."

your face burns with enough heat to power an oven, his words do a number on you and all you want is to hear them over and over. but you don't say this.

"you look so handsome trent." is all you find to reply back.

a shy smile is what you get in return as the elevator opens. the walk is familiar but your feet are making it feel much longer than needed.

he opens the door and you dont waste a second collapsing on his couch, groaning at the pressure finally being off your feet. he takes the boxes from your hands and sets them on the living room table, kicking his shoes off somewhere as he organizes them just how you like.

"eat first then change?" he takes a seat next to you.

you shake your head, "don't wanna ruin the dress."

"alright," he nods

you attempt to get up but your feet are swollen by the looks of it and you could cry at the though of taking another step in these damned heels.

you reach over carefully to begin the effort of getting them of you but holy fuck is it taking much longer than needed.

"you're taking so long," he groans, scooting down to raise right ankle to rest gently in his knee, hands working slowly.

you sigh in sweet sweet relief when the intricate lacing finally comes undone and your foot can breathe. he does the same to the left, bringing it up to rest against your right.

your head falls back against the couch cushions, eyes closed and relaxed. it gives you a moment to really appreciate it all. to appreciate him.

you crack your eyes open when he gives your leg a gentle tap, all done.

you swing your feet back to the ground, scooting up closer to him. it's a beat of silence where he watches you, wait for your move. and you press gentle kisses on both cheeks, then nose, one on his forehead, and finally his lips.

he can't keep his hands to himself at the end, a hand finds your waist, tugging you closer to him, impossibly close. the other cups your cheek gently.

you won't part till you run out of air, panting gently against each other's skin.

"thank you." you mumble against his lips.

he hums, "anything for you. you know what."

you could reach the clouds like this, could reach the stars.

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