#worker drone reader

[yammpi3]

𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖. // 𝑾𝑪: 2.2𝑲

— feat. disassembly drone N x worker drone reader

synopsis. Since disassembly drones need oil to keep from overheating they kill other drones to consume it. But.. ever since the alliance between Disassembly and Worker Drones its been a bit difficult to acquire..It’s not a problem for V to randomly kill someone off but it’s a different situation for N now that his views have changed. AKA…reader supplies him with oil :DD

— content warning. Nothing 18+ just a few kisses, neck biting and N being in pain.. gulp?

— authors note. I fear this x reader is a bit..cringe then again that might just be me overthinking it..ANYWAYS tried my best for this, and still have no idea how to write for a robot. (N might be a little mischaracterized I’m not ENTIRELY sure)

At the end of science class, just when everyone was packing up to leave, you noticed N fidgeting more than normal at his desk.

 

"Is everything okay, N?" you asked.

 

He laughed nervously. "Who, me? Pshaw, never better!" But when he spoke, he looked anywhere but at you and the others.

Thad snickered. "Maybe his circuits are loose again." Lizzy giggled. "Lmao, he probably fried something.” Just as V was about to comment on his behavior..

N got up from his chair abruptly; he swayed unsteadily before catching himself upon another classroom desk.

 

By the time you registered what was going on, N had already ducked out of the classroom door, stumbling down the hall. "N, wait!" you called after him, hurrying to catch up. N was unsteady on his feet, swerving from side to side as he tried to put distance between the both of you.

 

His limbs shook with every step he took.

"G-Gotta...g-get a-away..." he muttered, though you weren't sure if he was even aware you could hear him. His eyes flickered erratically, barely being able to focus straight ahead as he tried to get away.

 

You picked up your pace, power walking down the corridor after him. "Slow down!!" you yelled out, but N was quicker, and before you knew it, when you reached the next corner, you lost him completely.

Your concern for N grew by the minute, so you started tracking him down since something was clearly wrong, beyond a normal glitch.

 

An hour had already passed since you last saw N, yet here he was in the maintenance unit stumbling blindly, crashing into something every few steps.

 

"S-sorry!" he slurred after bumping into a support beam for the third time. An unnatural static fuzzed the edges of his voice. Stubbornly, he scrambled back on his feet and lurched forward without seeing where he went.

 

Was he malfunctioning? But his murder drone programming should have kept him sharp, no?? Seeing him this disoriented was alarming.

 

You trailed him at a distance, hiding behind a variety of things as he walked on ahead. Where was he heading in such a panic? His vents were roaring torrents by now, and visible condensation soaked his frame.

 

Finally, he collapsed behind a supply crate, crawling the last few feet. Had he sensed you following? No, his optics were unfocused, so he couldn't have had.

 

Gingerly, you peeked around the crate to see N weakly clawing at his chest clearly in pain.

 

If you didn't act fast, he would shut down permanently. Steeling your nerves, you crawled to his side.

 

"N? Hey..hey! It's me, Y/N. Are you okay??”

 

When you gently called his name, N got startled so badly that his claws scraped sparks from the metal flooring he sat upon. His optics flashed wildly before settling on your face with a look of panic. "Y-Y-Y/N! S-sorry, but I don’t think you should be near me right now…”

 

N let out an alarmed wheeze that trailed off into a pained whine. It took visible effort for his optics to focus on you. You could tell he was losing some sort of control over his strength, but why??

"You don’t look so good..”

 

N broke into a hacking series of rushed laughter that ended in a groan. "Me? Pssh, n-no way! I'm t-totally fine, like I said earlier. Now please just leave me, yeah?” He waved dismissively, or at least tried to, but his attempt ended up flailing limply.

 

He knew he wasn't doing a great job at reassuring you when you glared at him.

"N-nothing to worry that pretty l-little processor of yours over, really.”

 

N's dismissive act was crumbling faster than his resolve. Another hacking laugh turned into a groan as his eyes started to flicker erratically once again.

 

"N, please. You're clearly not alright." You took his flailing claw gently in your hands. His plating was so hot it almost burned to the touch.

 

A whine slipped, “Crap..crap. It h-hurts,

Y/N. M-My core, it h-hurts so F̵̬̏́̏͆̀͝ų̸͙͋̿̃̌͋́̈́̆͑̕͠c̶̜̜̼̥͓̚k̷̫̺̝̈́̀̿̇͐̐͑ḭ̸̧̻̞̻͚̳̘̩̣͋̀̃́̔̊̋̚ň̵̞̪̯̼̟̗̩͈̖́g̸̩̤̩̼̘̪̀́͊͗̋͐́̇ much."

 

You've never seen N this vulnerable before…

"What can I do to help? There must be something." N trembled, fighting some inner battle. Finally, he met your gaze, his optics showing an agony of want behind the discomfort.

 

"T-there is s-something, b-but I shouldn't..." Strangely, another sound intermingled with the strain in his voice now.

Was that...hunger?

 

Stroking his plating gently, hoping to soothe, you pressed, "Please, tell me what you need." His vents hitched wildly. Then, in a strained whisper, he cracked.

"Y-your oil...I ne-need…it."

 

A shiver visibly ran through his frame. His optics darkened as they focused intently on your physic, more so your neck and wrist.

 

"I..." he began weakly, then stopped to swallow. His claws clenched tightly as if fighting the urge. You waited patiently for him to continue, showing concern but no sense of alarm.

 

After a long pause, N dragged his gaze with an effort to meet your face once more.

“T-tell me to stop," he whispered, his fangs peeking out as he talked.

 

"I so badly n-need it, but I don't w-want to hurt you.” His claws lifted toward your face but stopped only by his wavering will. You knew this would be the only way for him to cool down.

 

You looked deeply into N's eyes, past the haze of glitches that overtook his screen.

"I trust you," you said calmly without fear. His breathing became more ragged at your words.

 

In a flash, his restraint broke—but instead of lunging at your throat as you'd expected, his claws tangled in the fabric of your shirt, yanking you flush against his overheated frame. You gasped at the contact, feeling the waves of heat pouring off of him.

 

N buried his face in the crook of your neck, fangs tantalizingly. "P-please..." he stammered once more, sounding close to genuine tears. Raising a hand, you gently clasped the back of his head, threading your fingers through his silver hair.

 

"Take what you need," you told him firmly yet tenderly..After yet another hesitant pause, his screen displayed an X. Then, with a grunt of gratification, his fangs smoothly penetrated the sensitive wiring of your neck.

 

Your breath became unsteady as N's fangs pierced you. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would—just a little bit of a pinch. His hands gripped your shoulders for support as he drank deeply, allowing the oily fluid to course through his system.

 

For several moments the only sounds were his gulping intakes and your own measured breaths; you kept still so as not to disturb him. You watched as the pained lines on his face slowly eased, his eyes returning to normal. His plating, which was boiling hot only moments ago, cooled down to a much safer temperature against you.

 

N withdrew his fangs from your neck, making a small trickle of oil leak from your wound.

 

He leaned back in hastily, swiping his tongue along the twin marks. You shuddered at the foreign yet not unpleasant sensation. But N paused, a flushed look appearing on his screen. “Ah g-geez, is this w-weird?”

 

He glanced away, clearly embarrassed  "What I mean to say is, um, my saliva can help the wounds close up faster? If, uh, you're okay with my germy mouth touching the injury I c-caused? No funny business, I swear! J-just bros being bros, p-patching each other…um up.”

 

N winced, realizing how that sounded. "N-not that we're actually b-bros, unless you want to be? Biscuits. Just—just let me do this, kay?”

With your consenting nod, N gave a short awkward chuckle and leaned back in. His tongue swiping over the wound. It began to tingle as the mark he had left slowly began to close up.

 

"It's strange to think your spit has healing properties," you remarked softly, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment. N hummed in agreement, laving one last swipe across the bite mark before drawing back to assess his handiwork. His optics flicked up to meet yours, searching for any sign of discomfort.

 

"How does it feel? Are you in any pain?" he asked, his tone laced with concern despite his own drained state. You shifted experimentally. "Stop worrying. Just a slight tingling.“

 

N searched your face anxiously. "Are you sure? Nothing else? No dizziness or discomfort?" His optics roved your features, taking in every subtle reaction. When you reassured him again that all was well, the tension melted from his shoulders—only to be replaced with guilt.

 

"Y/N, I could have seriously hurt you," he said quietly, horror creeping into his tone. "My systems went haywire; I had no control. If I had bitten down any harder..." He shuddered, unable to complete the thought.

 

"But you didn't," you said firmly. "You fought off the urge just enough to get the help you needed. I trusted you, N." He shook his head sadly. "Your trust may be misplaced in me. The overheating....what if next time I can't—can’t stop.”

 

N shuddered again at the dark thought. Seeking to ease his distress, you shot him a playful smile. "Well, if it happens again, we're in this together. At least now I have a cool vampire drone friend!! The whole sucking my oil thing was pretty vampirish.”

 

He cracked a hesitant chuckle. "Yeah, maybe I'll sparkle in the sun too." Feeling bold, you leaned in with a faux-dramatic voice, "I vant to suck your coolant..."

 

N actually snickered at that. You beamed, glad to lift his spirit, even if it was only for a brief moment. His smile faded as reality set back in.

 

"But seriously, what if next time I really hurt someone?” On impulse, you threw your arms around him in a hug.

 

N's eyes widened as you suddenly hugged him close. For a moment he sat stiffly, caught off guard. Then slowly, oh so carefully, his arms came up to return the embrace.

 

"Y/N...if anything happened to you because of me, I don't know what I'd do," he said quietly against your shoulder. You squeezed him tighter for reassurance. "Hey, it'll take a lot more than some murder instinct to take me out. Have a little more faith in me, will you? Stop being so edgy.”

 

“Edgy?" N scoffed, "Sorry, nearly ripping your throat out put me in a gloomy mood."

 

"Ripping my throat out?” You echoed with a wry grin. "Well, luckily that didn’t happen, did it?”

 

N huffed, “Maybe. But what if next time I lose it?"

 

You opened your mouth to respond, but he quickly shushed you.

 

“You just leaped right in like it was nothing. Do you have any idea how badly this could've ended?" He gestured vaguely to the drying wound on your neck.

 

"You drones are so..so fragile. One wrong move and I could've—" He cut off, unable to say the word. His arms flexed unconsciously, as if longing to wrap around something and squeeze. To protect, or destroy? Even he wasn't sure.

"You'd never hurt me, N. I believe in-"

 

Your words halted as he glanced up, his eyes searching yours with raw, wavering emotion. An urge welled within you, sprung from compassion more than reason. You leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

 

"Mmmph?!" N made a muffled sound of surprise, his body locking up stiffly. Your tongue briefly caught the tang of the lingering oil before you pulled back with a slight grimace.

 

His faceplate shone a distressed yellow blush. "I-I'm so sorry, I should have wiped my mouth better!“ he stammered.

 

But you simply smiled and leaned in again, pressing your lips gently to his once more. Then, slowly, he began to relax into the kiss.

 

His screen switched to a loading screen. In that moment, all his train of thought derailed off a cliff. N's screen flickered back online, and one of his hands floated up to gently touch his mouth, eyes wide and staring blankly.

 

"Bwuh-wha...you...kissem—I mean, I kissem-no, we...kissed?" he sputtered

 

"We k-kissed. You k-kissed me," he whispered, his optics shrinking to pinpoints before dilating wide again. A nervous giggling burst out of him.

 

"Oh biscuits, what d-does this mean? Are we like..” his tone lowered to a soft whisper.

“Dating n-now?”

 

"Well, uh, I guess you could say we're kind of sort of datingish now," you replied bashfully. "If-if you want to be my boyfriend, that is."

 

N's entire face lit up. "Boyfriend..Awhh Y/N!! Id love that." He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around in excitement.

 

"N set you down gently, his optics still shining with unbridled joy. However, a hint of seriousness crept into his expression as he looked at you intently.

 

"This doesn't mean I'm not mad at you for what you did," he said, his voice low and eyes narrowed slightly. "You could have been seriously hurt, or worse. You really scared me back there."

 

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Next time, I'll call V or someone else—I won't try to handle things on my own and potentially get myself killed." You paused, then added with a wry smile, "I promise."

N's stern look softened, and he hummed contentedly. "Good!" Reaching out, he took your hand in his larger one and gave it a gentle squeeze.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[djljpanda]

Ok could you do V romatic headcanons with a worker drone reader

V x Gn Worker Drone Reader

You two probably met when you were helping Uzi with something

Your guys relationship probably started like N and Uzi

V probably ready to kill any other worker drone but you are the only one she protects

Does like to tease you but when you tease back she just goes quite from embarrassment

When she looks at you she just scared she will hurt you and feel more bad for her past actions

You were scared when you found out you liked V, like yeah after all that beautiful but deadly look she is just a sweet drone underneath

I feel like you would have to make the first move as yes V does seem confident but I feel like when it comes to live she needs to know that you love her as much as she does you

V is ready to sacrifice everything just to make sure you are safe always defending and when you all go on missions she will be like your personal bodyguard

You would always make sure V is okay after fighting even one time offering you oil to her and I think that’s when you both knew there was more than just a friendship

V would definitely go on walks with you as she the stamina to do it and I feel like she has some places to show you

You cuddle and it’s cute very comforting for V

It would take awhile for her to open up about her pass but you would be there if she ever needs to vent

V would apologize as she does feel bad for all the worker drones she killed in the pass and having to make you scared and afraid

Overall V is that girl who would say “They asked for no pickles”

[dontforgetukraine]

Brendan Kelley: Russia’s #HumanSafari in Kherson continues as drone attacks set fire to structures across the city. Osvedomitell Alex posts threats to Kherson’s first responders. Yesterday, he captioned a burning building with a threat to Kherson’s firefighters: “We're waiting for the team.”

Brendan Kelley: He prefaced that with an earlier post: “We warn special services that will be involved in eliminating the consequences. You are guaranteed to be a priority target. Guaranteed.” #RussiaIsATerroristState #HumanSafari

[wafflexdguy]

V SFW Alphabet!

-----------------------------------------------------------------

For people on Tumblr, the book on Wattpad is where you're a worker drone, but you can interpret yourself being whatever you want.

Follow my Wattpad account for more content.

Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

She doesn't really show affection often, but that's not to say that she doesn't show any at all. She'll occasionally do handholding and hugging. If she's really feeling flirty, she'll kiss you just so she can say how much you blushed.

Ignoring the fact that she was blushing as much as you were.

B = Bad Habits (What bad habits do they have?)

She can come off as careless. So much so that it almost seems like she doesn't care at all.

She doesn't really have a solution for this, because despite already being in a relationship, she really doesn't want to get too attached in case someone destroys the planet. It really only around Episode 4 that this ideology gets snuffed out.

Other than that is just that she can be a huge nuisance when it's inappropriate.

"Damn, should have brought marshmallows."

"V, my house is on fire. Not the time."

C = Comfort (Are they a good shoulder to cry on or do they get awkward?)

They get awkward. I mean, wouldn't you?

How she thinks about it is dependent on which episode you place yourself in. If it's prior to Ep.1, then it's more of:

"Ok, I kill Worker Drones for a living, but now I have one crying on my shoulder what do I do-?"

After that, It's more of just actually being awkward, since she hasn't shown affection in a long time, if not years. They'll listen, but their comfort isn't going to be the best.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Does she want to settle down? Mayhaps.

She doesn't really know. She likes the idea of finally being able to relax and just enjoying each others company, but at the same time, is it really even worth it?

If you ask her nicely, she'll probably do it.

E = Energy (Would you have trouble keeping up with them?)

No.

She's generally laid back but also semi-energetic, like what we see in the show. If you're not hugely energetic, you'll have no problem keeping up with her.

F = Fear (What are they scared of when it comes to you?)

Probably just you dying.

She doesn't like to think about the idea of you dying for obvious reasons, but also because she won't really know what to do with herself afterwards.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

She's not gentle per' se, but she's also not really overbearing. Occasionally she'll fuck around with you, getting you riled up and/or get you annoyed if she's really bored. If it gets too much for you though, she'll stop.

Now physically, she's actually kind of gentle when it comes to that. She won't go rough, since if she's showing affection, she's likely just feeling icky or bad. So she'll just want comfort normally like anyone would.

H = Honesty (Do they have secrets they hide?)

Really?

Yeah, she has secrets to hide. Like how she had assisted in killing an entire planet. But other than that, she doesn't have other huge secrets to hide.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Not fast. It's probably going to have to be a major event that happens that doesn't have to be Ep.8 that'll scare her enough to where she'll just say "I love you". It can be just to where if you both somehow get really close to death, or if she gets close to death, It doesn't really matter.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

She doesn't get jealous often but she get jealous enough to where she'll get really annoyed. Why are you spending 5 hours talking to them?

Yeah, it'd take a bit to get her jealous.

If she's jealous for whatever reason, she'll just kill the drone in question. Simple as that. She needs the oil anyway.

If you manage to catch on early enough, you can stop her from killing said drone.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sloppy kisses if she's feeling really teasy and if you're okay with it.

L = Listen (Do they hang off your every word or have selective hearing?)

They don't hang off your every word, but they also don't have selective hearing.

She'll listen to you if she's not busy (obviously) but if she's doing something that isn't major, but still requires her attention, she'll hear you, but she probably isn't listening.

M = Maintenance (Are they high maintenance? Low? Maybe so?)

They aren't high maintenance. They're definitely low maintenance, because she was literally made to take care of herself.

Mentally though? They are also low maintenance, but she can get easily stressed. She might need your help to calm down if it ever gets to a point where she might lash out.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I eventually want to make a oneshot out of this, but basically how she typically sleeps (Upside down) but just hugging you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

They probably won't open up at all. More specifically: she wont just start telling you about her past, since she does her best to repress that as much as she possibly can. But she'll maybe vent to you about how her life sucked before she met you (or N) but that's about it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

If you want to speedrun pissing her off, get hurt. To be more clear, if you ever got hurt by another drone/person, she'll get instantly pissed off. Other than that, just being annoying can also anger her.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

They'll remember all the things you like and don't like that are easy to remember. She doesn't hang onto every little thing you like or dislike, but she'll make an effort to do something nice for you.

"Oh! A... Dead flower???"

"It's the only one they had."

Please note that results may vary.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

"I love you." You said out of the blue, looking away from her.

You and V had been sitting on top of a roof, just looking at the moon and embracing the moonlight above you. V, caught off guard choked on her own spit as she tried to process the sudden surprise.

She looked at you indescribably. You two had been unofficially been in a relationship, but hearing that made her core vibrate. Almost like it was reaching out to you. Craving that affection.

"Okay..." Was all she could say, leaning her head onto yours.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

She's protective over you. She doesn't like seeing you getting hurt (naturally) and typically will be quite murdery when it comes to your safety. Don't confuse her for yandere, it's just her usual attidtude.

You can't really protect her, let's be honest. (Again, you're worker drone in this scenario) So at most you'd be emotional support.

T = Temper (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She'd put her fair share of effort into dates, much to your surprise probably. Gifts, though?

"V, not that I don't appreciate your gifts, but are dead flowers really the only thing they had?"

"Yes."

U = Unwind (How do they relax?)

Spending any amount of time with you probably helps her wind down, and typically just likes doing random bullshit with you. It can be anything, really, but it'll help her relax around you.

V = Value (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Probably not much. Maybe her hair, but that's about it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yeah, but she probably won't show it. This is assuming you haven't died by the way, so she knows you'll come back, but in the meantime, it's almost like there isn't much of anything to do.

She'll probably hang out with Lizzy until you come back.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Random Teasing Headcanon (RTH tm)

She'll occasionally show off her strength by picking you up. It can be anything, from a piggy back ride, to picking you up bridal style. She loves it when you blush uncontrollably.

Y = Yearning (How do they act when separated?)

Already answered, but bored and incomplete.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

She occasionally sleep talks. It can be from anything embarrassing, or just kind of heartwarming.

[liminarystars]

EEEEE HI HELLO

CAN I UHHHHHH.,.,. REQUEST DOLL X READER WHO LIKE. ALSO SPEAKS RUSSIAN..,.,??

(Reader can be any gender)

(you don't have to btw!!)

a/n: watch me fail the little activity spark i got going right now.

character: doll

𝜗𝜚⋆ i think this could be used for both casual conversation and evil a like.

𝜗𝜚⋆ like you two could be having a public conversation about plotting murder but to the other worker drones? it would be like a plain monday at school.

𝜗𝜚⋆ you two would be partners in crime frfr

𝜗𝜚⋆ if you are involved with her and her absolute solver plans, you two would easily work off one another

𝜗𝜚⋆ poor lizzy, like? you and doll talking russian while she has no clue what you to are talking about.

𝜗𝜚⋆ ik i said you two would be partners in crime, but she'd probably still be independant and untrusting.

𝜗𝜚⋆ girl is still self reliant

𝜗𝜚⋆ overall? evil and chaotic.

© 2024 liminarystars - all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate or plagerise my content.

[pialexx]

hiii :33 can u write n relationship hcs with a wd!reader?? thank u in advance!

—A/N:Sure!Feel free to request again:3

—Masterlist

────────────────

╰┈➤UNEXPECTED LOVE!

✧You met n when you were outside to find some stuff.

✧You thought you were gonna die expect n just simply carried you and went up to v and j.

✧He asked if he could keep you with them.Which j scolded n while v was trying to kill you.

✧Surprisingly j let n keep you,which n become happy about alot.

✧That's where your relationship started with him!

✧N is very affectionate,sweet and gentle boyfriend!(you can't tell me otherwise.)

✧If you draw,then n will draw with you.As he shows up his drawings to you!He would compliment your art/drawings too!

✧If you get hurt badly,then he's not leaving your side i mean literally!

✧N may be sweet and innocent but the other side of him is very..

✧N isn't that jealous,posessive but the other side of him is very easily jealous and posessive.

✧N's other side will not show mercy to whoever hurt you.

✧N's other side is only soft for you

✧Either way.N loves you so much!He don't care that you are woker drone at all!

₊˚ʚ 👾 ₊˚✧ ﾟ

[gothcsz]

Dark Room | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~4.9k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Accidentally getting locked in the photo developing room with Javier.

Tags: reader really doesn't like javi, co-worker vibes, era typical sexism/misogyny, he's kind of a smug dick but isn't he always?, smut, oral (f & m), reader has never had her pussy ate so javi changes that, unprotected p in v sex, quick blowjob, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, little to no physical descriptions, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: another javi one shot, what's new?! lol this is a follow up to this ask/prompt i got a few months ago and i just thought this would be very fitting for these two 🖤 thank you to my prima @ovaryacted for reading over this 🖤 hope you enjoy and as always, let me know what you think!

“We need some photos pulled from the photo lab…” Carillo’s voice drones on, his explanation fading into the background as the weight of Javier’s stare settles over you, dragging over your body unabashedly.

He’s slouched over a desk that’s cluttered with maps and reports, an overfilled ashtray perched precariously on the corner, its contents spilling over as evidence of long hours and bad habits.

The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up just enough to show off those strong, brown forearms, veins subtly bulging as he drums his fingers against the surface.

The air is perfumed with cigarette smoke, the stale scent clinging to everything. It’s honestly a wonder you haven’t choked on it yet.

Weeks have passed since your lapse in judgment in the parking garage—letting Javier fucking Peña slide between your thighs to take the edge off this godforsaken sexist job that you still haven’t quit.

Nothing’s changed, obviously. The men in the office are still assholes, continuing to treat you like an afterthought, but you just tune them out because at the end of the day; you know you’re better than all of them combined.

Except it’s hard to ignore Javier. Harder than usual when he’s flashing you those round and soft brown eyes that should be illegal for a man like him to possess. 

He’s tried cornering you—more than once. The break room, after meetings, even the damn staircase when you were in a rush to head home.

Each time, you shut him down. Telling him to fuck off and take whatever cocky, insufferable game he’s playing and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.

You’re actually kind of proud of yourself for pushing back more than usual, even if you do get hit with a wave of horny nostalgia for the way he’d taken you that day. Quick, ruthless, licentious.

You keep your expression neutral as Carillo wraps up his instructions. Nodding politely, you don’t spare a glance at the other agent before turning on your heel and making your way down to the lab.

The room is lit by a red bulb, casting everything in a hazy, bloody glow. You’re sifting through the folders, squinting at the labels, when you hear it—the soft click of the door shutting.

You spin around, and there he fucking is.

Javier leans against the doorframe, the silver watch on his wrist catching the light, his tie loosened around his neck and the first few buttons of his shirt habitually undone.

With his arms crossed and broad frame filling the space of the doorway, he’s the picture of amusement—of quiet, dangerous persistence.

You hate the way your pulse downstairs stutters at the sight of him.

“What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his jaw shifts, a muscle ticking as he weighs his words, like he’s carefully considering how much trouble he wants to get himself into.

It annoys the ever-loving shit out of you.

When he doesn’t reply, you just huff out breath. “I don’t have time for this. Carillo needs these photos,” you snap, as if he doesn’t already know that. As if that’s why he’s really here.

Your fingers tighten around the folder you managed to locate, flipping through the contents to confirm it’s the right one. It is. Thank goodness. Now all you have to do is get the hell out of here—away from him.

“You’ve been doing okay?” He finally speaks, tone deceptively casual. “Your car’s fine?”

You bark out a laugh, loud and incredulous, because really? That’s what he’s opening with?

“What is it that you want, Javier?” You slam the filing cabinet shut, the sound echoing in the small lab.

And of-fucking-course—he’s closer now. The ruby luminescence of the room carves sharper angles into his face, deepening the contours, making his already unfairly handsome features look even more severe.

“What do you think?” he asks with a tilt of his head, tongue dragging slowly over his bottom lip.

“I think you just want to get your dick wet,” you accuse in a quip. “But I’m really confused as to why you’re so adamant about coming to me for that. Don’t you have a list of whores you can call? I’ve got about a dozen of their numbers written down at my desk. Just for you.”

Javier smirks—slow, lazy, irritatingly attractive. “S’not as fun. Not the same.” He shrugs. “I like to work for it sometimes.”

Your brows lift in disbelief. “Work for it? Wow, this really is just a game to you. To all of you.” Immature, arrogant, government assholes. You can feel yourself getting worked up, reminiscent of the last time you were this close to him. 

You don’t give him the chance to reply, instead brushing past him toward the door, reaching for the handle and twisting—nothing. 

You try again. And again. It doesn’t budge.

You exhale sharply, pressing your forehead against the door for half a second before pulling back. 

Right, so this door has been busted for as long as you can remember, locking from the inside at the worst possible moments, clearly.

You should have snagged the spare key, just in case. This is on you.

And since you’ve got unwanted company, the space feels a lot smaller.

“Please tell me you have your stupid phone on you,” you’re still facing the door, voice tight, manilla folder clenched in your hands.

The sound of dress shoes sliding over the floor, measured, deliberate, breaks the momentary silence.

Your body lights up, tensing as warmth ghosts over the back of your neck, sending a shiver racing down your spine.

“I don’t,” Javier murmurs, too fucking smoothly.

And then his hands—those beautifully large hands—press against the door on either side of you, arms caging you in.

You turn slowly, back pressed to the door, looking up at him as your breath catches somewhere in your throat.

He smells like cologne and Marlboros, an intoxicating combination that does something dangerous to your resolve, sinking its talons into whatever shred of control you thought you had left.

You can already feel the telltale weakness creeping into your knees as he stares down at you, the red hue truly making him look sinful in all the right ways.

This is exactly why you’ve been dodging him, shutting him down at every turn.

Because he makes it so easy to give in if just given a second to lay it on thick, no pun intended. Not only have you experienced his sexual bravado first hand, you’ve also seen the way he works his personality and charm with everyone else.

You wanted to be different, you really did. To not be another person to fall for him. Not after the way he treats you in the office, like you’re barely worth acknowledging unless you’re useful to him. Not after the way he just lets the other agents walk all over you.

It’s really not fair that he looks the way he does or that he fucks like he knows exactly what his partner needs. Like he’s got some weird, kinky sixth sense. 

It’s definitely not fucking fair that your pussy is flexing at the memory of him cuffing your wrists behind your back, growling filth into your ear as he took you against the side of his Jeep.

You inhale sharply, attempting to shove the thoughts away.

“I think there’s a landline in here somewhere,” you tell him, grasping at something—anything—to keep your wits about you. “We need to call someone to get us out.”

You try to step away, but Javier moves faster.

He blocks your path effortlessly, stepping into your space like he belongs there, his chest brushing against yours, the heat of him seeping through your clothes.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs, tone laced with that familiar, knowing drawl. It’s so rich that a little bit of his Texan accent slips through. “Let’s have some fun.”

You let out another laugh, except this time it’s thinner, shakier than you want it to be.

“Fucking someone you don’t like isn’t really my idea of fun,” you bite out, but it doesn’t come out as bitchy as you intended.

“Didn’t stop you last time…” He says smugly and you grit your teeth. “It just makes it that much better,” he sounds so indulgent. Like he’s already won.

You open your mouth to argue, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

“C’mon,” Javi coaxes like he’s the devil himself. “You’re always so tense. You work so damn hard, dealing with assholes like me all day. Let me make it worth your while.”

“I thought I told you last time that good dick wasn’t the solution to my problems.” 

“I’m not trying to solve your problems.” 

He ducks his head, the tip of his nose dragging up the side of your neck, a featherlight touch that sets your skin on fire.

You should push him away and slap him. But instead, you just… let him. Frozen, paralyzed by your own traitorous lust.

His soft pouty lips find your jaw, pressing kisses, each one getting you wetter. 

His tongue traces a languid stripe up to your ear, the wet heat of it making you gasp and your thighs press together. When his teeth graze your lobe, you can’t suppress the way your breath stutters.

“Javi—” His name escapes before you can catch it, barely more than a whisper.

You feel his grin against your skin.

“Say it again.”

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut, as if that will somehow lessen the ache beating at your cunt. As if you can pretend you’re still in control of the situation. Like you ever were.

His hands find your waist, thumbs brushing slow, teasing circles over your ribs. The heat of his palms sears through the fabric of your top, burning away the resistance you were clinging to.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he breathes, lips dragging along the shell of your ear. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

You should. But you can’t.

Your fingers fidget with the folder, aching to grab hold of him and pull him closer. You let out a shaky sigh, your resolve finally crumbling to dust.

You really are a weak bitch.

Javier pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression knowing—victorious.

The folder falls from your hands and to the floor as you grab him by the tie, yanking him down, crushing your mouth to his in a kiss that is nothing short of desperate, full of frustration, hunger and irritation.

Javier groans into it, gratified, his grip tightening on you as he presses you harder against the door, molding his body against yours. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming and demanding, and you let him, moaning into the kiss, your nails scraping against the back of his neck as his hands start to wander.

You were always going to give in and you both knew it.

You don’t even remember when his hands started working at the buttons of your shirt, but you feel the fabric coming undone, feel the cool air chilling you as he exposes your chest. His lips chase the newly exposed skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your neck, trailing lower… lower…

You gasp when he undoes your bra’s front clasp, his fingers ghosting over the swells of your breasts before he palms them fully, kneading, teasing, thumbing at your nipples then tugging them until you’re pathetically whimpering

“Mmmm,” you utter, your head tipping back against the door when his lips wrap around the aching peak and he sucks.

Javier chuckles against your skin.“Told you I’d make you feel good.”

Your fingers tangle into his hair, yanking his mouth back to yours, swallowing any other egotistic remark he was about to make. 

You feel the hard line of his thick cock straining in his slacks as he grinds against you like a rutting dog, his hips rolling in slow, instinctive motions that have your pussy clenching around nothing.

Maybe resisting him was always a losing game. 

It’s not like you’re drowning in offers elsewhere, and hell, you should own the fact that a man like Javier Peña—arrogant, infuriating, dangerously handsome—wants you more than any of the easy lays he could get with a single phone call.

Your confidence grows, even if it’s for all the wrong reasons.

One hand slips from the back of his head, trailing down between your bodies, fingers pressing against the rigid length of him through his pants. You squeeze, applying just enough pressure to make him hiss against your lips before he retaliates, biting your lower lip.

The pain blooms deliciously, sparking something even darker inside you. You reward him with another slow stroke, palming him, feeling his dick throb under your touch.

He flips you around quickly after that, pressing you hard against the door, your cheek and tits flattened against the cool surface.

A startled whimper escapes you, but he doesn’t give a damn, too lost in his own haze of desire as he works the button and zipper of your pants.

You quit dressing in cute skirts and delicate blouses to work. You weren’t about to continue to be an office fantasy or easy target for sexist bullshit.

But even in your practical wear and stoic demeanor, you knew damn well these men would find any way to sexualize you regardless. And they’ve proved your point plenty of times.

However, all of your carefully constructed defenses and feminist arguments about power and autonomy crumble the moment Javier Peña drops to his fucking knees behind you.

Your breath stutters, eyes widening as you try to push back against the door, a weak attempt at stopping him—but his grip is firm, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he tugs your pants down, his fingers skimming the sensitive skin behind your knees, making your back arch.

His calloused palms knead into the soft flesh of your thighs, gripping handfuls of your ass like he can’t decide whether he wants to spread you wider or keep you all to himself.

He does both—squeezing, parting you open just enough to make your pussy feel completely exposed, heat licking at her like a slow burn, anticipation curling around your clit.

“Javi—” His name barely leaves your lips before you suck in a sharp breath, body jolting as the wet heat of his mouth presses against the thin fabric of your panties.

Oh shit.

The damp lace does little to shield you from the deliberate drag of his tongue as he licks a slow stripe over the barrier, teasing, tasting, promising you things that make your head spin.

A moan slithers its way up your throat before you can stop it, your fingers twitching against the door as your knees threaten to buckle.

It’s such a foreign feeling.

“Nervous?” he asks, his voice dark, amused, but also curious.

You swallow hard, blinking rapidly against the overwhelming sensation of it all. No one’s ever done this to you before. No one’s ever wanted to. And yet, here’s Javier, on his knees in this dingy basement like this is what he was made to do.

“Just—” You suck in a breath. Fucking hell this is so embarrassing. “No one’s ever…” Your cheeks get hot, making you want to crawl inside yourself.

He stills for a moment, as if letting your words sink in, your panties now pulled down around your ankles. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself, at the realization that he’d be the first to eat your pussy. His fingers flex, digging into the plush curve of your ass. “That just makes me want to ruin you even more.”

And then he does.

His mouth is everywhere all at once—tongue eagerly dragging through your folds, circling your clit dexterously and it’s a miracle you don’t melt entirely then and there.

His aquiline nose notches between your cheeks and the pressure makes you yelp in surprise.

Your fingers claw at the door like a rabid animal, trying to find something to hold onto, something to ground you as Javier devours your cunt.

He works you open by lapping thirstily and sucking on your wet flesh, groaning against you like he can’t get enough.

It’s otherworldly, a kind of pleasure so overwhelming that frustration bubbles up inside you. Why the fuck has no man ever done this for you before?

Your hips jerk when his tongue slides inside your hole, his mustache scraping against your soaked skin, his nose pressing against your asshole.

The contrast of soft and rough, teasing and taking, has you whining loudly, your forehead pressing against the cool wood as your eyes close tight.

The tension in your stomach twists tighter, hotter, tears spilling from your waterline as he sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue until your knees finally do give out but he holds you steady, keeping you from falling as you hit the wall of your orgasm. 

“Oh my god!” The words spill from you in a breathless, wrecked moan, your body pulsing, shuddering, before slumping as pleasure melts into boneless relief.

He takes his time with you, his mouth slowing to match your come down, his tongue kitten licking at your oversensitive sex like he relishes the taste of you.

He presses one last, open-mouthed kiss to your clit before pulling away.

His whispers are hushed, sweet words murmured against your trembling thighs until he stands, rising up behind you, his broad frame looming over yours.

You feel him—his chest, his shoulders—so solid and manly, pressing against your back. You’re still panting, skin heated, body humming, when you finally turn your head to look at him.

Javier Peña has never looked hotter in his goddamn life.

“Hard to believe no one’s ever tasted you, baby. Sabes tan dulce.” The praise sends a violent shudder straight to your freshly ate cunt.

He’s quickly working his belt open, the soft clink of metal making your thighs quiver in anticipation.

He fists his cock, stroking himself languidly, dragging his palm over the thick, velvety skin before his fingers dip between your legs, gathering the slick arousal dripping from your pussy.

Thankfully the door is thick enough to muffle the desperate, broken moans spilling from your lips, and that this basement is hardly ever visited—because the last thing you need is an audience for this shameful, filthy indulgence.

Yet once the lust settles, that same isolation won’t feel so convenient. You’ll be more than eager to get the fuck away from him.

He smears your sticky wetness over his shaft with a groan, eyes hooded and hungry as he watches your body react to him.

All you can do is continue to writhe, legs shaking as you kick your pants and panties off completely, giving yourself room to spread and bend over for him, expecting him to take you as he did last time.

But before you can brace yourself against the door again, Javi moves fast, flipping you to face him, his large hands cupping the backs of your thighs.

It’s instinct to wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles locking behind him as he hoists you up, pinning you against the door.

His lips crash into yours, hot and urgent, teeth clashing, tongues tangling as you flick off his tie and work open the last of his buttons.

His shirt hangs open, exposing his warm, taut chest to your greedy fingers, and you run your hands down the hard planes of his torso, reveling in the contrast of smooth skin and how human he feels despite the sex god aura he emits so effortlessly. 

But it’s his neck that has you dizzy. That sharp jawline, his defined Adam’s apple, how his pulse pounds just beneath the thick muscle.

You make eye contact for a brief, charged second before your mouth latches onto his neck, tongue dragging over salt and cologne, teeth nipping at the tendon.

The way the red light paints him—his bronzed skin darkened by shadow, eyes heavy-lidded with hunger for you, lips slick from your kisses and pussy—it all makes you dizzy with need.

Javi growls low in his throat, shifting his hold to steady you against the door, angling himself just right before pressing the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

The stretch is immediate, slow and torturous as he sinks into you inch by inch, your walls fluttering around the intrusion of his dick, the burn mixing beautifully with pleasure.

Your jaw falls open, but no sound comes out, only ragged breaths and a strangled whimper as your cunt struggles to accommodate around his girthy cock.

His gaze is locked onto yours, dark and molten, his lips curling at the way you tremble in his hold.

You’d slap the smirk right off his face if your hands weren’t too occupied with digging into his shoulders to keep you sane.

“That’s it, puta madre,” he groans, voice wrecked. “Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good.”

“S-Stop talking and just fuck me,” you breathe as you yank him closer, pressing your tits against his bare chest.

Javier doesn’t need to be told twice.

With a sharp thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, slamming you back against the door, the impact rattling through your bones and knocking the air from your lungs.

The obscene sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoes through the cramped room as he sets an unforgiving yet utterly satisfying pace.

Every stroke of his cock against your walls, every graze of his pelvis against your swollen clit, sends you spiraling higher.

The heat of the red light, the scent of sweat and sex thick in the air, the filthy sounds between you—it’s all too much, too good.

His hands grip your thighs tighter, keeping you right where he wants you as he fucks you hard and deep.

He plants one hand next to your head while the other slides between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, teasing circles, you break.

Your body seizes, nails raking down his back as your orgasm slams into you, pleasure blinding and unbearable.

Javier groans, hips stuttering as he chases his own release, as he fucks you through your climax. “That’s it. Fuckin’ come for me—mierda, so fuckin’ pretty pinned up on the door like this, fallin’ apart all over this dick—”

“D-Don’t finish inside.” The words spill from your lips between gasps, your foggy mind barely catching up to the reality of what you’re doing.

You thank whatever shred of sanity is left in you for speaking up before it’s too late—because fuck, you almost forgot.

A part of you chastises yourself for even letting it get this far, for not making him wear a condom either time he’s had you.

You know better. You know Javier gets around, that his reputation in bed is just as legendary as his skill with a badge and gun.

He groans, a deep sound of both pleasure and frustration. He wanted to finish inside you. You can tell by the way his thrusts falter, how his fingers dig into your hips a little harder.

The idea of filling you up, of making you take all of him, has him on the edge, his control hanging by a thread.

“Fuck,” he grits out, and suddenly, he’s pulling out of you, his cock slipping free with a wet, lewd squelch that makes your empty walls clench around nothing. Before you can catch your breath, he’s pushing you onto your knees, the roughness making your head spin, your lips parting in surprise.

He takes full advantage.

Javier’s hand grips the back of your neck as he guides himself between your lips, pushing his thick cock into the heat of your mouth with a sharp hiss.

You barely have time to react before he’s thrusting in deep, the heavy weight of him stretching your jaw, his scent overwhelming your senses.

Your hands fly to his thighs, nails digging in as he fucks your mouth the same way he just fucked your pussy: relentless, desperate, filthy.

Your tongue flattens beneath him, taking him as best as you can while he pants above you, his breath ragged, his curses slipping into Spanish as he chases his release.

And then you feel it how he stiffens, the pulse of his cock against your tongue before his salty release spills hot and thick down your throat. Javier groans as he holds you there, making sure you swallow every drop.

“Goddamn baby,” he rasps hoarsely, his fingers easing from your hair as he strokes your cheek, his softening cock still twitching between your lips.

When he finally pulls out, you’re left breathless, your mouth swollen, your body still thrumming with pleasure and exhaustion.

You look up at him, and the sight alone makes your stomach flip—his chest rising and falling, his shirt completely undone, his tie hanging loosely around his neck,  hair falling in front of his face and gaze hooded and dark as he stares down at you.

He looks wrecked and you’re the reason why.

The fog of lust dissipates all at once, replaced by a feeling akin to cold water washing over you. Your lips are swollen, your knees ache from the hard floor, the unmistakable taste of him lingers on your tongue, and your pussy is sticky with the remnants of his pleasure.

You rise quickly with a sharp breath, ignoring the way your thighs still tremble. He offers a hand, fingers curled in that lazy, confident way that suggests he thinks you’ll take it.

You don’t.

Instead, you swat it away, reaching for your discarded clothes with sharp, jerky movements, yanking your panties up, stepping into your pants, and shoving your feet into your shoes without grace.

Every button fastened, every piece of fabric back in place feels like reclaiming a part of yourself, like stitching together the resolve that had crumbled the second he put his mouth on you.

You allow yourself moments of weakness—you’re only human, and he’s too good of a fuck to deny. But moving forward, you’ll have to be more resolute.

This? This was a mistake you can’t afford to keep making. The last thing you want is for him to think he has an in with you just because he’s made you see stars with his dick… and tongue… and fingers. Goddamnit. 

“You gonna keep this little act up,” he drawls, redressed himself, half ass fixing his belt, “or am I gonna have to chase you down just to get you to fuck me again?”

You snort, shaking your head as you adjust your bra and start buttoning your blouse. “You do realize how predatory that sounds, right?”

He just smirks, unfazed, and leans against the desk nearby as if he’s lounging. “And that whole thing about no one ever going down on you… That true, or were you just trying to get a reaction out of me?”

You ignore him, not about to stroke his already inflated ego by admitting he’s the first and only person to ever taste you so intimately.

Instead, you snatch up the forgotten folder from the floor, shooting him a glare through the red lighting of the room. “Help me find the landline so we can call someone to let us out.”

Javier just chuckles, shaking his head as he finishes tying his tie. “Won’t need to.”

Your eyes narrow. “What?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the spare key.

Your jaw drops. “You had that with you the entire time?”

His only response is a shrug, like it’s no big deal. Which, truth be told, it isn’t. But the realization that this was all orchestrated is enough to make your blood boil. You wonder if Carillo was in on it too. 

Your teeth clench, fingers curling into a fist at your side as he pushes off the nearby table and steps forward, unlocking the door with an infuriating lack of urgency.

He swings it open, then leans against the frame, motioning for you to go first with an exaggerated flourish.

“After you.”

You consider punching him, it had felt so damn good doing it last time. You don’t, however, instead storming past him, ignoring the way your skin still hums where he touched you, ignoring the smug chuckle that follows you out into the hallway.

You’ll let this go, you have to if not it’ll prick at you until you snap. You really don’t know how many more crash outs you have left in you before you do something more reckless than fucking the DEA agent.

Though one thing becomes sparkling clear in this moment—you’re going to have to find a way to resist Javier Peña. Even if he’s dead set on making that impossible.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz . @manuymesut . @biapascal .

[green-butterfly-writes]

Little Thief

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

this is from Jason's perspective, but the next part will be a more standard 'x reader' fic. the reader is a fox, in case that isn't clear. there will be more parts soon, I promise. the yandere is a bit slow burn-y with this story.

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely.

“What do you mean something happened? We’ve got all the guys pinned down over here!”

“Red hood, who took it?”

“That— it’s fine don’t worry about it, I’ll get it back”

“Red-“ *click*

Red Hood disconnected his com, before creeping closer to the small fuzz ball.

“Nowhere to run you little thief. Just give it back,” he bit out, while reaching for the flash drive in the foxes’ mouth. The fox was not happy, being trapped in an alley with a large man blocking the only exit, but it wasn’t as unhappy as one would expect, looking more annoyed than scared. 

Red Hood continued his slow approach until the flash drive was finally in arm’s reach, his hand shooting out to grab it, only for the little fox to dodge and dive right under a large green dumpster. It emerged a moment later— without the flash drive.

“OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!! I NEED THAT YOU LITTLE SHIT!!” Red Hood shouted, already realizing he’d need to move the whole dumpster to get the drive back. The fox sat in front of the dumpster, staring him down with a blank expression. It brought one of its front paws up to point at the metallic back door stapled into a wall of the alley. Red hood paused. That door led to the back entrance of a restaurant, he recalled to himself, did it want food? The fox sighed with such an attitude its full body sagged a bit, before pointing to the dumpster, and back to the door.

“A trade then…” Red Hood translated hesitantly, and the little red fox perked up with excitement, “I’ll get you some food and you’ll give me back my flash drive?” The fox nodded enthusiastically. 

Red Hood sighed, before walking around the building and into the generic burger chain before him. He was greeted with abused plastic tables, torn red booth seats, a singular front end worker who looked like he lost his will to live years ago, and a strong stench of weed radiating from the kitchen area.

“Welcome valued customer, how may I serve you,” the worker droned out. Red Hood looked up at the menu plastered on the wall above the dead eyed boy at the register. ‘What do foxes even eat? They eat chicken, right? There are a few chicken options… the chicken sandwich has vegetables on it… vegetables are good, right?’ Ya, he’s going with that. “Can I get a regular chicken sandwich and cheeseburger with fries?”

Once he had the food, he returned to the dumpster where the little fox sat expectantly with the black flash drive hanging from its mouth. Red hood approached, sandwich in hand, and this time the fox didn’t run. He placed the sandwich at the fox’s paws, and held out his hand, where the fox delicately placed the drive, before trotting away with its food.

*click* “I got it back”

The coms immediately flooded with admonishments; for turning off his com, for not telling them what happened, for disappearing for ten minutes without explanation, among other things. He listened without comment, much more focused on his surprisingly delicious burger.

A week later he found a familiar looking fox dumpster diving along his patrol route, and decided to give it some fries during his break.

At a certain point sharing his mid-patrol meal with the little fox had become a daily occurrence for the Red Hood. He found its presence soothing, the way it chirped in excitement adorable, and the few times it would let him run his gloved hand down its back were the highlight of his week. 

The fox was currently resting near him on the roof, devouring a box of chicken nuggets, while he reread some case files on his phone. The penguin was up to something — one of the goons that was apprehended last week had slipped up and mentioned a ‘secret shipment’, and then promptly died in his cell before he could be questioned. 

There was other suspicious activity too; he had been spotted with Twoface several times over the past week and a half, his underlings were more on edge than usual, and he had been quieter lately. He was planning something. Something big. But nobody could figure out what. There just wasn’t enough evidence.

Exasperated, Red Hood turned to the joyous little fox beside him.

“You know anything about what the penguins planin’, little fox?” He chuckled into the thought, not really expecting an answer of any sort. If he didn’t know, how could his little friend? 

However, and much to his surprise, the little fox leapt from its spot, and pranced over to the opposite corner of the roof, before looking over its shoulder. Getting the message, Red Hood grabbed all the trash from their meal and followed. The fox led them from rooftop to rooftop, down back alleys, and between cars, before finally reaching an office building. It was a newer construction (relatively speaking) and bustling regardless of the time of day. It housed several different businesses, ranging wildly in specialty. “You're sure it’s here?” The fox nodded, “you know which one?” The fox shook its head, “well thanks for the lead, little guy,” the fox smiled as Red Hood ruffled the fur between its ears. He was already dreading telling the others he got a tip from a fox of all things… unless, of course, he didn’t. Plan formulating in his mind, he returned to his patrol, satisfied.

~~~~~

well, that's all for now, please let me know what you think! my ask box is open, and I'd love to hear from you 💚

[ttjisung]

CANCUN p. jisung

richkid!park jisung x richkid!fem reader (e2l)

in which a trip to southern mexico along with your brother's obnoxious friend becomes more than you can handle when you both release your stress.

cw: MDNI! SMUT! (wc: 5.7k)

For the past week and half, you’ve woken up smiling with a pep in your step – it was finally summer! The only time available to feel somewhat happy as a college student had arrived, after months of long lectures and painfully boring labs, and you weren’t looking to waste it droning miserably around an isolated campus. The opportunity to travel was offered to you the second day of your break, in the form of a message from your brother, Chenle.

Yo. We’re hitting up the beach house in Cancun if you want to come. You can invite someone too, just let me know. Dad’s paying 

Not even ten minutes later, you and Ningning were at the mall scouting for cute bikinis. Deciding on a light pink two piece with a flared miniskirt on the bottom, you didn’t bother looking at the price tag before passing it to the worker. Truth be told, you hadn’t looked at your bank account since you were allowed to get one. You knew it was always covered, and you had sworn to never be one of those rich kids who are ashamed of their wealth and call themselves “comfortable”. You figured if you could enjoy life and travel with your best friend every semester, why fight it?

“Lele better have gotten us each a first class window seat. If I get middle I will slice his throat.” 

Ningning mindlessly nodded to your obnoxious complaints, holding her phone up high to record a pre-trip transition tiktok, not bothering turning her volume down as the noise rang out loudly. “-Ugh, and then he was like, you only get to check in two bags but like, Ning that’s so unfair. Like I need more so I can bring back gifts for the girls.” This time Ningning actually looked in your direction, voicing out a small mmm to let you know she agreed.

The both of you sported similar airport outfits – comfy pink sweatpants alongside a white shirt, the matching outfit a tribute you had planned for the trip. Chenle spotted you immediately, yelling out your name and throwing his hands up in the air. As your eyes locked, you rushed over, shoving your bags onto the bench and hugging him. “Ewww, get off me.” The attempted-sweet moment was tarnished as he pushed you off, deciding to not greet Ningning either.   

Rolling your eyes at his annoying antics, you waved at his friends who were scattered along the same sitting area. Scanning their faces, you didn’t miss the way one particular friend didn’t wave back – Park Jisung, who for some reason swore you were his mortal enemy. He simply looked your way, scoffed, and pulled his phone out again. Your plans of slapping him and pulling him by the hair were interrupted as Jaemin, one of your brother’s nicer friends stepped in front of you, smiling widely. 

“Little Zhong, it’s been so long. When’d we last see you?” “Umm… I don’t really… know.” He laughed, and you giggled along, engaging in small talk. Had Jaemin not been blocking you, you would’ve seen the way Jisung’s  eyes squinted sharply at your direction, spanning between you and his friend quickly before averting his view. 

After leaving your bags with your brother, you pulled Ningning along to go airport shopping. It was a higher end company, and of course you were part of the membership, meaning you all shared a private lounge. The company offered many stores for members only, ranging from Coach to Chanel, and that’s where you immediately headed together. 

“I think I need a bag for the trip, I looked up the trends in South Mexico right now and my purse just isn’t aligning.” “Oh my God, same. I don’t know what I was thinking bringing that five month old red one, it would’ve been so embarrassing.” Your snobbish comments blended in with the echoes of older women who had access to the same membership, and after one hour of touching authentic leather clutches to Greek weaved trendy tote bags, you were finally satisfied with your three new bags (Nigning with her two). 

The whole group decided to meet up an hour before necessary to sit together until the boarding time, an effort encouraged by Mark who said he ended up in a small bug-infested motel next to an airport once because he lost his group and missed his plane. That scenario being unironically your worst fear, you were quick to hop on board and agree, pulling Ningning by the hand to head towards their lounge.

Unsurprisingly, all of the others were gone, probably also shopping or stuffing their faces at the supreme sushi buffet, leaving you two alone. As the minutes passed by, you were starting to get annoyed, not wanting to end up in the small motel Mark described. “Ning, go look for anyone else. I’ll stay here.” “What the hell? Why do you get to stay here while I look?” “Umm, because one of us has to, dummy. Did you forget about like… bombs and stuff? Airport rules. Duh.” Rolling her eyes, Ningning crossed her arms and stormed off, muttering under her breath as she walked out of view. 

You grinned as she was finally completely gone, pulling out a sleeping eye mask and moving onto the chaise lounge, on your back. A looming shadow was what woke you up, so intense you swear you could see it with your eyes closed. Pulling your eye mask up, you were awoken to the sight of Park Jisung hovering over your body on his knees, head over yours casting a shadow.  

“What?”

The question made him scoff once more, looking away and shaking his head before simply getting up and walking away. “Hey! Don’t walk away! You were watching me sleep, creep.” You rushed to get up, fully discarding the mask and standing up to follow him around the medium-sized room. “Don’t flatter yourself,” his deeper voice rang out, continuing to walk away, “I was just checking cause Chenle asked me t-” He was interrupted as you finally caught up to him, holding his arm in your hand and tugging him around. 

A swelling frustration built up in you as you saw his eyes, full of disinterest and boredom. It was one thing to bother you constantly, it was another to do so while feigning nonchalance. Somehow, your brother’s best friend had managed to get on every single nerve inside of your body, and you seriously began to worry about what would happen when your body would run out on the trip. 

“Look, it’s already annoying enough that we have to be near each other these next three weeks. Can we please just avoid each other?” The truce you offered was your last hope, pleading at him in a desperate manner. Jisung looked away with a hand on his chin, as if to seriously think about what you requested, looking at you once again before his smile cracked, eyes squinted slightly as he shook his head, floppy bangs swaying side to side, “No.”  

You huffed before letting go of his arm with a strong force, turning around and walking towards your new stack of bags, choosing one off the top to hold before attempting to storm off in the direction of Ningning. At this point you were seriously starting to consider cancelling the trip. You’d probably be able to convince your parents to send you two to France instead for the fourth time; yet one thing that your summer house in Cancun had that your three story, antique French apartment didn’t was Mango, the orange fat cat who resided on the property that you adored. Since you were a kid, you looked forward to every Spring break because it meant visiting Mango and sleeping on the beach with him under the hot Mexican Sun. Now though, it seems like he’ll have to be your distraction for Jisung’s aggravating antics.

If you had to pick one thing about the male that infuriated you the most, it’d be his hypocrisy. Even you admitted that you were spoiled, not defending yourself when the topic came up, yet Jisung wouldn’t miss a chance to look down at you in disapproval, acting like he was superior when he was the exact same thing as you – an entitled, superficial rich kid who ended up with everything he could dream of.

Ningning was paid for by your parents, but Chenle revealed to you through text that his friends provided for their own selves, using their supposed money that truly just came out of their parents pockets instead, including Jisung who never failed to remind you you were nothing but a product of wealth. 

Although you had half a mind to curse him out, you were honestly tired and just wanted to find your best friend to complain to. Jisung had to ruin apparently every one of your plans as his larger hand wrapped around your shoulder, this time stopping you from marching away. “Wait, hold on. My bad, okay? I’ll agree with you,” his voice sounded smoother, more empathetic as he pulled you back near the couch he caught you sleeping on. “Really?” Your hope was restored as he nodded his head, “Yeah, on one condition.” “What would that be?” 

Rather than answering you, he simply pushed you onto the seat, getting on his knees again and hovering in between your legs once more. You felt his breath on your face as he stopped, his eyes scanning your face before lowering to your lips. A grin grew on his mouth, though he tried to hide it by biting his own lip. 

Without a warning, his hands moved to your shoulders, pulling you into him as he left a small peck to the corner of your mouth. Still in shock and confusion, you didn’t push him off which he took as encouragement to place another one on the other corner. Finally regaining your consciousness, you shrieked and pushed him away, looking at him with wide eyes. 

“What the hell, Jisung? What is wrong with you?” The male rolled his eyes at your loudly yelled questions, leaning into your ear instead. “You can act like you haven’t felt any tension between us all you want, but I won’t let you ignore me this time.” He whispered, standing up on his feet and staring at your face before walking off to where his own bags were. 

The rest of the hour was spent in the bathroom, frantically retelling the story to Ningning who was just as shocked as you were, yet according to her it was only a matter of time before that evil man tried something on you.

When you two rejoined the larger group to finally board, you were weirdly quiet, avoiding the stare of Jisung who was watching you intently. It was the first time he’d seen you so panicked, so distraught. It was then that he realized he really liked the feeling of having control over you. While he was smiling to himself, predicting what a great trip it would be, you were shivering in your seat, dreading what was yet to come.

All of your worries faded away as you stared at the green sign displayed above the road Chenle was driving on, Bienvenidos a Cancun. It had been a while since you were last here, the humid hot air and the bright sun almost unfamiliar to the point where it would’ve upset you. Unfortunately, your group was too large to commute together, so you split up into two groups. 

You waved goodbye to Renjun, Haechan, Mark and Jeno at the airport parking lot, entering the backseat of a large black vehicle that adorned a sign with your last name on it, clearly dedicated to you and your brother. Jaemin sat next to Chenle in the passenger’s seat, leaving you sandwiched between Ningning and Jisung. Chenle insisted you’d sit there, saying your guest should have the window seat. You nearly choked him out through the console of the car. 

Ningning was asleep in minutes, clearly jetlagged from the plane ride, the soft chattering coming from the front of the car probably lullaby-ing her into slumber. This left you awkwardly pressed to her side, trying your best to avoid contact with the male next to you who had been observing you ever since you all landed. 

A bump came up ahead on the road, causing you to shift up slightly into the air, landing next to Jisung’s legs. Thanks to the microshorts you were wearing (curse the torturous summer weather), your bare thigh was pressing against Jisung’s choice of long jorts. The length of his attire stopped your skin from touching his, leading to a relieved sigh, yet it was interrupted by a heavy breath as he nonchalantly moved his closer hand towards your thigh, awkwardly placing it between yours and his. 

Confused by his choice of placement, you were about to complain yet words no one would ever hear were caught in your throat as the car came into contact with another speed bump, this time lifting Jisung’s hand directly onto your bare, plush skin. “Hey! Take it off.” He simply shrugged at your whispered demand, “It’s the car, I can’t control it.” 

The daggers in your eyes simply egged Jisung on as he lightly pinched your thigh, chuckling lightly to himself as you smacked his hand away finally. 

Once the car ride was over and Ningning was shaken awake by your own hands, the two of you ran inside the large house, speeding into the hallway to choose your rooms first. You settled for one of the two rooms on the second story, opting for the one with a balcony facing the blue crystal water of the beach. Ningning ended up on the first story in the room closest to the indoor pool, yelling something about her daily morning laps. 

One by one, Chenle along with his friend group entered the large house, claiming their own territory quickly. Jeno, Haechan and Jaemin decided to stay in the rooms in the basement, and a large part of you believed it was due to the theater room that had a PS5 connected to a surround-sound speaker system. Mark took the room next to Ningning, the two of them bonding over their swimming exercise routine. Renjun took the room furthest into the hallway, followed by Chenle who chose the one in between his and Mark’s. 

It was a pure coincidence that Jisung ended up residing in the last room available, upstairs and right next to yours. You hadn’t even realized it was him until he knocked on your door, pushing it open before you could say anything and leaning on the frame. 

“There is no way you’re next to me. Switch rooms with someone now!” Your words were pointed and firm, suddenly covered in the confidence you lacked at the airport as you stood up, throwing your unpacked clothing onto the king sized bed. Jisung simply snickered to himself, “It’s cute that you think that’s up to you to decide. I’m comfy here though, and I already unpacked so no can do, sorry.” “Why do you enjoy making my life a living hell?” “Because it’s funny.” His responses only angered you further, causing you to stand up and slam the door on his face. 

Choosing a better method to unwind than yelling in your brother’s best friend’s face, you put on a cute bikini with a lace cover-up, rushing out into the hallway when the coast was clear and heading towards Ningning’s room, who was also already unpacked and dressed in a cute sundress. 

No words were exchanged as you two ran through the back door onto the beach, giggling with each other as your feet met the warm sand. Ningning placed her tote bag down near the water, laying down two towels and sitting on one of them. 

It was no surprise when you heard the shouts of the rest of the group, each male running towards the beach as well. They all placed their miscellaneous beach items next to you, not bothering to place down a towel and simply sitting in the warm sand in a circle. 

Truthfully, you were already sick of the overwhelming testosterone that engulfed you both, and apparently your best friend was as well as she shouted out a challenge, “Last one to dive into the water has to do everybody else’s laundry.” Ignoring the fact that your vacation home came accompanied with a house maid, which of course it did, the large majority of the men stood up, racing through the sand until you could barely see their heads in the water. 

Three stayed back – Jaemin, Jisung and Renjun. The last had already occupied himself with a book in his hand, laying on his stomach on his towel (he was the only one that brought one out of all of his friends). Jisung was simply staring at you with a blank expression, causing you to roll your eyes and look away. He momentarily looked away as well, although your next words pulled his attention back quickly. “Jaems, can you help me put some sunscreen on?” The older male next to you nodded, smiling and grabbing the bottle from your hand. He shifted so that your back would be facing him, squirting out a generous amount of the lotion before nudging your hair aside, spreading it onto the back of your neck first. 

His hands roamed towards the small of your back, spreading the lotion all over you before gently rubbing it in with his palms. Soft sighs escaped from your mouth, your eyes closed as you leaned into his hands that were essentially massaging you. 

Jisung was annoyed. It was one thing when you provoked him specifically, but to display your content sighs so loudly was another. He’s not sure why the sight of his close friend’s large hands running up your hips, under your arms, everywhere, had him so riled up. It couldn’t be jealousy – you were the most infuriating person he knew, yet as he quickly stood up, rushing over to the water, it was clear that he was more bothered than he let off. 

Soon enough, the hot sun faded out into a serene, dark sky, and the group had once again returned to the house momentarily. Tired from several hours of messing around in the water, Chenle announced that he would order food. It was Ningning’s suggestion that they eat it on the beach chairs settled right outside of the house, under the balcony of your room. Although you hadn’t swam as much as the others, you were honestly tired of the socialization and chose to head to your room instead. Jisung was confused – and maybe even disappointed – when he noticed you weren’t outside with the rest, deciding he’d check in on you (and aggravate you a bit more).

His long legs carried him upstairs, leading him to the familiar door of your room that was slightly ajar. Inside, you laid on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. His grin grew, the palm of his hand pushing harshly onto the door until it opened completely.

Your eyes were quick to look up at the source of the noise, rolling once you realized it was Jisung. “What is it now?” “Nothing, can’t a guy just want to hang out with his dear friend?” Your nose scrunched up as his response, “I’m not your friend, you’ve made it clear with your relentless bullying all of these years.” He pushed himself off of the door frame and into your room, stepping until he was right next to your bed, standing still next to your laying body. 

“C’mon, I’m not that bad.” He joked, hoping you didn’t catch the way his eyes roamed down your barely clothed stomach to your smooth legs. You did catch it, yet refused to mention it in fear of a scenario like the one in the lounge repeating. “Look, come here.” He leaned down, grabbing your hand in his and pulling until you were unwillingly sitting on the bed. He didn’t stop until you were completely off of the mattress, dragging you towards the open doors that led to your balcony. 

You could hear the buzz from below it, belonging to the large group eating some authentic tacos that costed a hundred pesos each. Jisung stopped once you both were fully outside, and you stared up at him, confused by his actions. 

He caught your gaze, smirking down at you before lifting a finger to his lips, as if to motion you to be quiet. That confused you even more, you weren’t even being loud?

You suppose his next actions explained his weird antics as he flipped you to lean against the railing of the balcony, your nearly-naked back now facing his clothed chest as you were forced to look out towards the beach. He used the hands he flipped you with to hold onto both of your hips, pushing you flush against him and placing his head on your shoulder, almost looking down at the crowd from behind you. 

“They look so busy, hmm?” You squinted your eyes at his question, wondering why he even cared. “I mean, I guess so…” “Would truly be a shame if they were to look up and see us right now, right?” You tried to tilt your head to look at him, yet he took one of his hands and placed it on the back of your neck, forcing you to look down. “We aren’t doing anything… so not really.” You wish you could ignore the way the laugh he let out didn’t run straight to your core, yet it was hard as his grip on you grew, pulling your body closer into his until you felt the pressure of his hands build up.

You jumped at the feeling of his hand leaving your hip, instead roaming towards the end of your ruffled bikini bottom. Nothing could hide the small gasp that released from your mouth as it snaked over towards the front of your body, slowly lowering itself until he was fully covering your clothed core. “Shh, don’t want them to hear, do you?” The small twinge of pleasure along with the ache building inside of you blinded you to the small smirk heard in his voice.  

His voice was muffled with your hair as he pushed his face closer to you, his breath evident against your ear as the grip in his other hand grew, applying more pressure to the base of your neck. 

His long fingers were now gently rubbing you through the material of your bikini, ever so slightly moving until they met your clothed clit. Your breathing grew heavier, knuckles turning white as you held onto the railing, praying that the dark sky covered the possible view your friends had downstairs. The view of Jisung’s hand finally pulling the fabric aside, fingers gliding against the slick that had built up from his actions. A small moan was muffled by his other hand that moved from your neck to your mouth, now confidently rolling your sensitive clit with his thumb as two of his fingers drifted lower, slowly but surely finding their way inside of you.

You had truly underestimated the size of Jisung’s hands as he built up his pace, thrusting the two fingers in and out. It was only when you felt an unfamiliar, cold sensation that you realized he had left a ring on one of them – probably the friendship ring Chenle forced all of them to buy and wear. 

His breathing grew as a reaction to the way your body instinctively bucked against his, your ass now pressed against his painful erection. He lightly whined into your shoulder, increasing the speed at which he moved his fingers inside of you, hoping you’d continue to build the friction between the two of you. 

Your moans quickened as well, fading to breathless gasps as the cold of his jewelry met with the warmth of your walls, leaving you a mess at his mercy. Just as you continued to press into him, craving more than just his long curved fingers, you heard a voice from below. “Should we go check in on Ji and N/n?” 

Curse Jaemin and his thoughtful concern, you began to pull away from Jisung, afraid of getting caught. What you hadn’t expected was for Jisung to push back into you, the hand that had covered your mouth now holding your hips, bucking his own to the fast pace he set, desperately searching for release as his fingers continued to bully their way inside of you. 

“Ji… Jisung, stop! They’ll… Th- They’ll catch us…” You struggled to let your words out, growing desperate as well, his fingers reaching so deep inside of you that you felt like you were going to pass out from the pleasure. The added danger of knowing you might get walked into was your final push as your mouth released a final whine, folding against the railing you held onto as you attempted to catch your breath. 

Jisung was too focused to stop, continuing to rut into you, his fingers sliding out and moving towards his mouth instead. He lifted his head off your neck to suck onto them, swirling his tongue to fully enjoy the taste of you. Without a warning, and quite frankly ignoring your pleas of overstimulation, he thrusted his covered bulge into you once more, groaning into his own fingers as he came in his shorts. 

He stood against you for a minute, the two of you catching your breath and attempting to process what just happened, yet the sound of several footsteps rushing up the stairs and near your doorway had you pushing him away, running into your room and picking up the closest pair of pants to put on. 

Ningning’s eyebrow was raised when she stepped into your room, suspiciously locking eyes with you before looking at Jisung, continuing to observe the two of you harshly. Your heart beating almost covered the noise of Chenle, who was demanding you and Jisung to join them all downstairs to bond. Wanting to escape the heavy atmosphere hanging around you two after what had just happened, you were quick to agree, running down the stairs and out the door. 

The morning after came soon, the bright sunlight that poured into your room waking you up from a scandalous dream about Jisung that you would never share with anyone. You were so embarrassed –  you were supposed to be the one to bitch Jisung, not the other way around, so to admit that you came on his fingers, more importantly that you enjoyed it, proved difficult. 

Both Ningning and Jisung stared at you weirdly as you announced you felt sick, therefore you would not be able to join them on their trip to the cenotes. You refused to lock eyes with either of them when you rushed back up the stairs, slamming your door behind you. 

You spent the day lazily relaxing on the beach alone, sipping on several glasses of agua de horchata with an audible book blasting through your Airpods Max. Your peace was only disturbed once the sun began to set, and a hand was placed onto your bare shoulder. You recognized the large hand, unfortunately too familiar. 

“Was it that bad that you had to avoid us all?” Jisung’s deep voice rang out, his body finally coming into view as he sat next to you. It took everything in you to not stare at his upper body, now bare as a result of the adventures the group went on. You shrugged his hand off, shaking your head and looking off towards the water as you took your headphones off, placing them on your bag. “No.” “Then why did you magically get sick this morning? Scared I would harass you in front of your brother too?” You didn’t want to admit that it was true, but harass wasn’t the term you’d use, considering you woke up wet and reminiscing the feeling of him thrusting into you.

You just shrugged, causing Jisung to frown at your lack of rebuttal. It was only fun when you played along. 

He let out a hum of disapproval, staring at you like he found himself doing a lot on this trip. Finally finding the courage to look at him, your eyes locked, and it was then that Jisung really noticed how pretty you looked under the dim sky. He hesitantly placed a hand on your slightly sunburnt face, cupping your cheek and looking down at your lips.

You looked down at his lips too, admiring how plump they were – you had never taken your time to appreciate how pretty he was as well, too focused on his annoying insults and teasing. You both leaned in slowly until there was no space left in between you, mouths finally meeting. It was slow at first, hesitant and almost innocent, yet something unleashed inside Jisung as he heard you sigh into the kiss. It reminded him of the noises he pulled out of you the night before, suddenly feeling desperate. 

He was the first to assert control, placing his other hand on your face as well and pulling you into him, devouring your lips and pushing against them with his tongue, demanding you to let it meet yours. You complied, sick of acting like you ever wanted control over Jisung. You never actually cared for it, you just liked trying to push him over the edge, which you appeared to succeed in as his breathing quickened. Your tongues met, the kiss turning messy. He could taste the sweet drink off of your spit as he let go of your face, instead moving you until you were laying against the soft sand, his body hovering over yours.

Jisung used both his arms to keep him on top of you as you moved yours down, palming him through the blue swimming shorts he chose to wear. The feeling of your smaller hand making contact with his clothed dick had him swelling up, growing needier and needier until he couldn’t take it. 

He pushed himself up onto his knees, looking down at you as his hands roamed to your small bikini bottoms – smaller than the ones yesterday, you knew what you were doing to him. You propped yourself up on your elbows, ignoring the slight sting of the sand grains digging into your arms as you watched him bite his lip before finally pulling the bottoms off of your legs. 

He groaned at the sight of your bare core, glistening against the dim lighting of the moon. He was quick to follow, desperately pulling off his own shorts, leaving him completely bare. The only clothing that remained on either of you was your bikini top, yet it didn’t last long before Jisung ripped it off, ignoring your small noise of complaint as the fabric tore off of you. He leaned over you again, struggling to ignore the feeling of your slick cunt meeting his hard-on.

Finally, you were both completely naked, left with no distractions. Jisung kissed you again, closing his eyes and melting into the feeling as your hand snaked down. He let out a hiss as you held onto his sensitive dick, guiding it lower until he felt your hole. Giving a few small thrusts against the slit of your pussy, he finally sank in with no warning, moaning at the way you immediately clenched around him. You were no better, eyes widening as you felt the stretch inside of you. Yes, it might’ve been Jisung’s personal goal to annoy you to no end, yet he had enough mercy to give you time to adjust. It might’ve slipped from your mind, yet Jisung was very focused on your facial expressions when he got rid of your clothes, noticing how shocked you appeared to be from the size of his length. He always knew he was on the bigger end, yet his ego continued to inflate as you struggled to take him fully. With his newfound confidence, and your small encouraging nod, he began to move, finding a rhythm as he thrusted into you, pushing you further into the bed of sand under your bodies. 

Your hands found his back, scratching down his built muscles as you fought to get used to him. He moved one of his hands that was holding him up, causing him to shift deeper into you accidentally (yet you weren’t one to complain as the new angle pulled an embarrassingly loud noise from you). His now-free hand slid down your body, stopping at your boobs to tease you a bit, groping the soft flesh before continuing down until he met your clit. 

The way Jisung played with the bundle of nerves alleviated the pain in you, now shifting into pleasure as he pushed into you with a renowned force. “Tell me how it feels, baby.” He whispered into your ear, begging to hear your voice. “S-so good, Ji. Need more, please…” Deciding to not tease you for the first time in his life, he complied, thrusting into you harder, the speed of his fingers on your clit increasing until you were a mess under his body, crying out at the combined stimulation.

The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, alongside the reflection of the moon on the water encompassed you both as your passion took over, grinding down to meet his thrusts with fervor. You finally caved when his mouth met your neck, sucking harshly in hopes of marking you up. You reached your climax, riding it out as Jisung continued to thrust into you. “Where do you want me?” “Inside… Please.” He simply nodded, his movements growing sloppier as he sheathed himself into you fully, searching for his own release. 

You decided to mirror his actions, lifting your head to kiss his neck, and that was enough to make him finish, his cum gushing inside of you, dripping out lightly as he reluctantly pulled out.  As you looked over at Jisung who now laid next to you in the sand, you thought that maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all. It wasn’t until he looked at you, basking in your satisfied afterglow that he leaned in, holding your neck with his hand and pulling you into another heated kiss, this time pulling you on top of him, that you realized you had to plan a very long debrief with both Ningning and Mango tomorrow morning.

a/n: is it obvious i'm mexican and this is slightly self indulgent. psa if youre paying more than twenty pesos for a taco its probably not an authentic one :/ this is the longest fic i've ever written to celebrate the very special occasion. park jisung day. ^_^

[scriptseekstories]

Queen Bee’s Hive

Chapter 2- Bee in a Wasp Nest

A/N: Okay, so things will pick up next chapter, just have to set up relationships and personality for Bee!Reader and other characters. And more fort as to what your mother’s research actually does and what she did.

Kinda made yall like Mirabel from Encanto and Laios from Delicious in Dungeon ngl

~Years Later~

Bees were your friend. They work with each other and protect their home. When you had another rough day of school and a torment from Damien, you could always count on the hive planted on your window to keep you company. They had always been your friend.

Sure you had human friends at school who are weird as you, but they just don’t know you like bees. They comforted you at low times, watched over you when you slept, and gave you so. Much. Honey.

The days were somewhat better after years since you were first taken in by the Waynes, but you wouldn’t never say your life got better. You were still pushed aside but your so called siblings, ignored by your father unless you were in trouble, and tormented by your demon brother Damien.

The harsh words, the aggressive shoves, the brutal chases away from his dog Titus, you didn’t know if being mugged was better than living with him. You even considered the other’s snarky comments about you whenever you bumped into them were more bearable.

“Don’t they have anything else better to do than bother us?” You once heard Tim scoffed when you wanted a seat from the kitchen while they had dinner, Stephanie humming in agreement as Dick laughed it off while others didn’t even answer him. Yeah… they all had dinner together while you were in your room eating alone.

Buzzzzz

My mistake, you never ate alone.

“Hey, my beauties,” You slid your window up carefully to avoid crushing any bees that were too slow. You clutched the flower pot in your hands as you stared at at their strong hive, seeing that honey is almost ready.

“I got you some flowers,” You spoke as if the bees understood you, but maybe they do understand you. They never stung you, they always perched on your nose or hand, and they always seem to make your day a little brighter.

“Today we have Lotus flowers on the menu,” You sighed while resting your cheek on your hand, watching the bees snuggle into the petals and collect the pollen. You adored your grown hive, tending to your little creatures for years as you seen generations after generations of bees live past.

Each Queen bee you’ve seen are as beautiful as the last, and you adored how hard she keeps her drones and workers happy. ‘Wish I was your worker bee,’ You hummed deeply before checking your phone to see that it was only 3.

You had time, so you quickly shut the window, apologizing to the bees who were startled before grabbing your travel bag and wallet, stumbling out of your room and racing down the long stairs, where your favorite butler was cleaning the couches.

“I’ll be back Alfred!” You called out to the butler as you attempted to fight your coat into staying on you. Alfred smiled before wincing when you accidentally slid on the carpet and crashed into the umbrella stand.

You had always been a klutz, crashing into objects, tripping over air, even one time accidentally taking out half Gotham’s power. (GCPD and Batman assumed it was an attack by a villain, and Alfred had the love for you to not narc)

“I’m okay!” You called out while stumbling to stand up and attempting to fix the umbrella stand, finally having your coat on before shutting the door behind you. Alfred merely shook his head and smiled softly while truly fixing up the stand as you left all the hats and umbrellas on the floor.

“May Master (Name) always have that bright smile,” He mumbled, before going back to cleaning the couches, just as he quietly check on the carefully written list full of your birthday wishes he had in his pocket, smiling.

You inhaled a deep breath of the Gotham air, which may sound disgusting but since you lived in the rich part of the city, the air was cleaner than most. That thought made you sad for reasons involving people and insects, not much are capable of fixing the air in order to thrive in.

Which is why you must do what you need to do.

Looking around, you concluded none of the family were outside, so you took that chance and crouch around the bushes in the front, and pulled out your skates. Why would you hide them outside instead of your room? Simple, there’s just not enough space in your room.

You replaced your bed frame with a hammock so you could fit your desk for school, you had a small closet boxed with childhood accomplishments and awards, and walls completely covered in posters and research papers.

Yet it didn’t bother you one bit, for it was your safe space, your haven in a house that wasn’t your home. You shoved your foot into your skates, wobbly standing up and securing your ground before rolling down the driveway.

You pushed yourself down into the big city of Gotham, avoiding walking pedestrians and taking turns left and right. Each person you passed by, you always greeted with a bright smile and waved at them, to which they couldn’t help but smile back.

In a place like Gotham, it’s rare to have genuine smiles and kindness that you apparently had. You decided it was best to still show a smile to all even though your life wasn’t that great either.

Why let the darkness and grim life consume you when you could still bring a light to others? That’s what your mother taught you. Sure, it was hard to keep on showing that sweet smile of yours day after day being neglected and tormented by the Waynes, yet you had to.

For your mother.

Each street you rolled into, the less citizens were present. That was due to the fact you were skating right into the heavy crime side of Gotham City. Yet you didn’t stop, in fact, your smile grew as you now saw the figures of the neighbors who all were familiar on the news.

“Good evening, child,” “Though you bit the dust already, kid!” “Avoid that pothole, (Name),” The various voices you heard as you skated pass them, where you stumbled upon the banged on concrete and avoided the destroyed roads that even the toughest tires would get deflated.

“Hi, Dr. Crane!” “Still kicking, Mr. Dent!” “Sharp as always, Miss Kyle!” Each calls towards a villain may have civilians run for the hills, however you on the other hand was either not afraid of these top baddies, or stupid to know your life could be in danger.

It might’ve been the latter, as your anxious personality prevented you from reacting like a normal person. So instead when you first stumbled upon the villain side of Gotham, you didn’t run away. Instead, you used all the fake confidence you had and strutted inside, greeting each criminal, thug, villain, or henchman with a smile.

Needless to say, some were baffled, others were amused, they wanted to see if you would still smile after witnessing them take your teeth out. But alas, there was one particular criminal that had them all to back off, dare they try to harm you they would have to answer to-

Ding

You pushed the door to a shady rundown flower shop, the tiny bell ringing to indicate your presence. Digging into your bag, you pulled out a wad of cash Alfred provided you ever since middle school since you needed permission from jobs to work, and you didn’t dare ask Bruce, so Alfred provided.

“My sweet little Bumblebee~” You looked up with a smile at the sight of the woman who provided you with flowers. Her rose red hair always stood out amongst the plants and flowers, her pale skin kissed with hues of green, and her dark green outfit flowed and tangled with the vines lowering her down from the shadows of the flower shop.

“Hi Miss Ivy!” You held out the bills for her as she lowered herself down and gracefully grabbed them. She placed her feet on the floorboards and leaned against the counter, counting the money with a grin.

“Glad to hear that my flowers are being praised by your little creatures,” She sighed, sensing all the plants you bought being tended to by the bees and other insects who craved the sweet aroma of her plants.

“Miss Ivy, you think you could pre-stock some marigolds for me around a week in advance? I think I actually might have gotten a breakthrough! Just on time for my birthday!” You excited rambled off, jumping in one place like a child as Ivy handed you a bag of seeds just as you paid for.

“Really now?” She grinned, “Well, here I give you a special treat for an early birthday gift~” Using her vines, it reached deep into the hall behind the counter that was suspiciously covered in shadows before it emerged with a box.

“Thank you, Miss Ivy,” It was a nice steal box, knowing Ivy would never use wood for anything. It had carved bees on it and honeycomb patterns. You were about to open it when Ivy placed her green hands over yours, giving you a wink. Right, open it on your birthday.

“Like I said, anything for my little Bumblebee,” She cooed while booping your nose, “It’s only fair to assist the bee’s savior, which also extends you being the flower’s savior too~” Her vines curled at her words, sliding up to you in an attempt to pet you, to which you backed away quickly.

“Ha ha ha…” You let out a nervous laugh, voice cracking midway which made you wanna internally die when you heard Ivy cackle as you walked out of the door, skating down and almost hitting Bane.

Being so deep into the crime filled side of Gotham, Ivy believed you to be stupid and had a death wish when you first came into her cover store. She decided to spare your life when all she saw in you was a clumsy and pathetic ridden teenager who just wanted to actually buy flowers from her.

You amuse her so much. The moment you ate shit in front of her little shop had her hooked immediately, and she fell in love with you the moment you rambled on about the relationship between bees and flowers.

You skated along the roughed up sidewalk, waving goodbye to the residents of this crime filled area. Never actually saw crime here, as you guess Batman had them on a leash.

‘Batman… why couldn’t you have saved her,’ You held to resentment towards the Dark Knight, yet you weren’t a fan of him either. He was just… someone who couldn’t save your mother.

You finally made it to your location, just as the sun shined perfectly down into the building you worked so hard inside.

An abandoned warehouse just right at the edge of Crime Alley. The warehouse that your mother worked in with her team before it was attacked by a crime boss. You moved all her papers and results inside to avoid questions from Alfred or the others.

You grunted while pushing the collapsed door to crawl under, before grasping a power generator and jerked it around. With a simple puff of smoke, the whole place lit up with dim lighting and additional fairy lights you added for personal touch.

“Right, time to get started,” The closer you walked through the warehouse, the louder a buzzing can be heard. Sunlight peering through a skylight, in the middle of the building lay a garden, with flowers planted by Poison Ivy herself and a garden gate built in by Scarecrow.

Inside the garden? Your mother’s bees. The ones that she nurtured for her researched, the genetically modified creatures that made it through everything. You smiled with pride at the fact you kept them alive for this long, generations of bees lived in your care.

Digging through your bag, you pulled out your laptop and an empty jar, where you set them down on a lab table. On the table sat an old tv with a VHS player. Grabbing a tape from the top, you inserted it in and opened your laptop as the video began to play.

“Project: Honey. This research study may very will be the next step in animal kingdom history. We are here to investigate the potential for genetic modification to enhance the physical capabilities of the honeybees, rendering them more resilient to climate challenges and better suited for urban environments to grow our managed earth,” the static voice of your mother rung out in the warehouse, causing the bees to buzz in an almost harmonious way.

“For years, we have concluded that our genetically modified bees are able to gain more muscle mass that not only increase their flight, but their defenses, speed, and strength. Our results have tested our bees to collect 35% more nectar than the average bee, and provide more pollen over a whole continent!” The excitement in her voice made you smile. You really do miss her.

You turned on bunsen burners, tubes filled with essences of the hive and honey made from the bees, listening to each VHS tapes that your mother recorded. Just like what you’ve been doing since you turned 10, you realized you had to do more than tend to the genetic bees.

You had to continue her work.

“However, the side effects to potentially playing god among the bees are a serious risk to take for the better of world. We just need to-,” Yet a harsh SSSSHHHHH sound popped up as the final tape wasn’t fully finished, and it cut off while only playing static.

You turned it off after hours of work, stretching your limps with a satisfied feeling. You rested your arms on the table and turned a picture frame that held a photo of you on your fifth birthday, with your mother in her lab coat holding you in her arms, both of you happy.

“Just one more week, and I’ll finally complete your dream Mama,” You smiled softly at the photo, gently kissing your fingertips and placed them over her face. Everything you’re doing, all the hard work, it was all for her.

She may be gone, but you’re still here. You’ll complete Project: Honey and help humanity your own way. You’ll be a hero, just like what your mother would’ve wanted, be more of a hero to the world like Batman is to Gotham.

It was currently 10, and you had to hurry home before Alfred came up stairs to check on you. You decided to take a cab home and after a solid 20 minutes, you made it home than you usually do when on skates.

You slid your skates under the bush, made sure your jar of honey made by the genetic bees were sealed in your bag, and opened the door. You saw Alfred serving your plate, yet you knew it wasn’t going to be set on the table with the others.

You walked closer to the dining area, seeing that all of the family were together, eating and talking amongst themselves while smiles on their faces.

“Hey… don’t mind me…” You awkwardly shuffled to the side, slowly reaching for a honeydew, then your plate Alfred gave with a sad smile, before mumbling a “sorry” and running back your room, cringing at the interaction. It was as if they forgot you lived here and are uncomfortable with the thought of seeing you.

Just as well, you were just as uncomfortable making small talk to them as they are even looking at you. You didn’t care, right? Yet you still felt your heart ache with hurt. They never seem happy to have you talking to them.

You opened your door, setting the box Ivy gave you on your desk and the jar of honey down as well. You sliced the honeydew into slices and took one to the window, sliding it open to see the bees perching on the sill, almost like they were waiting for you.

“Hello my loyal royal subjects!” You joked with a proud look on your face, though the way the bees didn’t buzz at you, they weren’t impress with your humor. You gave an awkward laugh before placing a slice of honeydew on the windowsill, where the bees practically burrowed into the fresh sweet fruit.

You smiled with joy. Today wasn’t that bad, yet it still wasn’t enough to have you reassured yourself that you belonged here.

The next day you needed another ripe honeydew that Alfred bought you. You peaked from the stairs and nodded when no one was present in the kitchen. Taking long strides from the stairs to the kitchen so you could get back upstairs faster, you grasped onto the fruit when a tsk was heard.

“You don’t belong here, you know that, right?” Dropping the honeydew due to the familiar voice, you dreaded turning around to see Damien, arms crossed and leaning back against the kitchen island. It seemed he was eager to mock me and waited for me to come down like a weird predator.

“Yeah… don’t need to mention it every single day…” You nervously nodded, crouching down to grab the dropped fruit, hoping it would still be fresh enough for your beloved bees.

“I should, because it doesn’t seem that you got it through your inferior mind,” He scoffed, grabbing the honeydew before you could retreat, “You’re not special. You’re nothing but mundane and simple, not worthy to be on the same stone as us,” That damn smug look on his face made you wanna shove that honeydew up his-

“Right, and you supposedly are with your cool sword skills and emo energy,” You muttered, snickering to yourself as if you said something cool. Which you did, of course! However Damien didn’t find it funny as he scowled you suddenly felt pain on your stomach. You hissed in pain when he threw the honeydew at you.

“Watch your mouth, inferior! I am the perfect offspring of the Al Ghul and a Wayne! You don’t belong in the Wayne title!” He snapped, hands twitching as if he was ready to call Titus on you. Fear shot up your spine, making him smirk at the look in your eyes. But what he said, about being a Wayne, anger took over your fear of his damn dog.

“Well, good news, brat! I don’t want a title that makes me as egotistical and stuck up as you guys!” Your voice might’ve been shaky, but this was the most confrontational you’ve ever been towards anyone, it caught Damien off guard with how offended and angry you actually sounded.

“I’m not a Wayne! I’m a Raine, and I don’t need a brat like you destroying what I have left!” Grabbing the now bruised honeydew, you pushed Damien hard. It may not have actually made him fall down, but he didn’t fully expect you to physically touch him, so he stumbled back a little.

He looked at you like you had the audacity to put your hands as valuable as him. His eyes darkened as he didn’t bother to call for Titus, he let out a shout before lunging at you.

You both fell, you pushing his face away with one hand as you held onto the honeydew so Damien wouldn’t use it to slam it against your stomach again. Alfred heard the stumbling of chairs being pushed and shouts in the kitchen, causing him to race in just in time to see Damien scratched your eyes.

“Master Damien!!” He was appalled at the sight, quickly pulling you out of his reach. In a flash, Dick, who was right behind Alfred, held onto Damien and pulled him away as he cursed at you and struggled like an angry cat. A mangy, ugly looking cat.

Dick managed to calm Damien down, but then gave a disappointed sigh before looking at you, giving you a look as if you were the one causing problems and he was tired with you. As if he even had the time to know you and get tired with you.

“You shouldn’t have talk to Damien like that, he doesn’t know better, (M/N)!” He scolded you with a tsk, where you didn’t even bother to mention that he completely butchered your name, “You have be apologize,” You stared at Dick in utter disbelief.

You? Apologize to Damien?! You let out a scoff as you stumbled to stand up, seeing the now ruined honeydew crushed by Jason who gave you an unimpressed look, crossing his arms which added more humiliation.

“L-Like hell would ever apologize to a stuck up baby! He started it!” You stammered, voice cracking in a way that didn’t help your situation as you saw a grin on Steph’s face, about to mock you. Cass merely gave you a look like silently saying that you were to blame.

“Stuck up baby? Look in the mirror,” Tim remarked, nudging Duke, who looked uncomfortable and was about to speak up, but deep footsteps made everyone freeze. Bruce stared at Damien, who was being held back by Dick, and then you, who quickly avoided eye contact and clutched onto Alfred’s hand tighter.

It might have been foolish, stupid even, to think that Bruce would come to your aid, to comfort you and scold Damien for attacking you. But you knew the truth. You never mattered to him.

“Go to your room,” He demanded with his sharp eyes staring at you. “Now,” You felt awful, sick. Every time you get in a tussle with one of them, Bruce will always come in defense to them. Every time you get blamed, you would be sent to your room alone. And every time you see his eyes, they’re always filled with nothing but annoyance and disappointment.

As if you were the one causing a nuisance in their perfect family, as if you were the intruder insect that invaded their hive, as if you were nothing but an obligation. Slipping your fingers out of Alfred’s hands, you tried not to cry.

“Fine,” You whispered, legs pulling my body up the stairs, not daring to look back to see Damien’s stupid smug smirk and the disappointing head shakes from Dick or the snickering from the others.

Your room felt smaller, more closed off than the other rooms. Why did you choose it again? Right, it was because you weren’t wanted by the family, hence you didn’t deserve being in the family hall.

You heart your heart twist with hurt and anger, as if you could open your mouth and vomit all the hate and rage building up inside you. Sliding up your window, you watched the sunset from over the garden, where the bees began to settle down and perch over your hand.

Alfred will be coming up to give you your dinner and stay with you. But even with the company of Alfred, he wasn’t strong enough to get through the family, he wasn’t enough to bring the love you craved for years. Despite it all, he was still a bee that works for Bruce.

You concluded a long time ago that this wasn’t a beehive, and you weren’t an invasive insect. No…

This was a wasp’s nest, and you were the bee they taken for consumption.

Buzzzzz

At least your hive will free you one day.

A/N: Yep, you in fact do have villain friends. Yet they don’t know your current situation since you referred to yourself as Raine, never Wayne.

Hopefully they would help you when things get low. They may be evil, but they’re not monsters (just ignore the comic accurate villains lol. And joker)

Taglist: @jellystar-star @moom0goddess @pix-stuff @lettucel0ver @lithiumval @bad4amficideas @degenerates-posts @deathbynarcisstick

[simplygojo]

Friend-Of-A-Friend ⸺ Chapter Two

author's note ⸺ Hello all! Tysm on all the love and support you've given me on just the teaser!! I have begun the series taglist as well (at end of fic) and if you'd like to be added, please comment so I can add you :) pairing ⸺ Suguru Geto x Reader content ⸺ platonic-bestie!gojo, corporate-worker!reader, slight tension, studying mentioned, modern au, reader uses female pronouns, this is an 18+ series - mdni divider credit: @/toastray ୨୧ art credit: @/juziluohai

previous chapter ୨୧ series masterlist ୨୧ next chapter

Morning meetings were always the worst.

Your eyes flicked between the PowerPoint presentation on your laptop and the clock in the bottom corner of the screen. 10:17 AM. Barely past mid-morning, and already your inbox was overflowing, a steady stream of tasks waiting to be tackled. 

Your manager was droning on about Q2 projections, but you weren’t really listening—your mind was elsewhere.

More specifically, back to Geto’s message.

You had responded, the plans had been loosely set in motion, but ever since then… nothing. 

No follow-up text. No details. No confirmation. It wasn’t like you were expecting Geto to flood your notifications—he didn’t seem like the type—but still, there was an odd weight to the silence. Like something unsaid was hanging in the air, waiting.

Your phone, face down on your desk, was an itch you couldn’t scratch. Every so often, between emails and reports, you found yourself flipping it over, just to check. 

No new messages. No notifications. Just the same boring reality of your corporate grind.

You sighed, refocusing on your laptop screen. 

Work first, overanalyzing later.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

By the time the workday finally dragged itself to a close, you were exhausted.

The kind of exhaustion that settled behind your eyes, heavy and dull. 

You trudged back to your apartment, shedding your coat as soon as you stepped through the door, kicking off your shoes like they were the final obstacle standing between you and sweet relief.

Your phone buzzed as you collapsed onto the couch. For a fleeting second, your stomach twisted in anticipation—only for it to immediately unravel when you saw the name on the screen.

Gojo.

You exhaled through your nose, a half-smile tugging at your lips as you answered.

“What, do y’have a sixth sense for when I get home?”

“Obviously,” Gojo said, his voice light with amusement. “I told you, I’m always watching.”

“Gross.”

“You’re gross.”

This was routine by now—Gojo calling you at random times throughout the week, sometimes to tell you about his day, sometimes just to be annoying. You never really minded.

“So,” he drawled, “how’s the thrilling life of a corporate drone? Please, tell me in excruciating detail about your latest battle with Excel.”

“Oh, you know, just living the dream,” you said, stretching your legs out. “Emails. Meetings. Staring at spreadsheets until my vision blurs.”

“Riveting.”

“You know it.”

He chuckled. “Well, you got a busy week ahead, or what?”

The question was casual, barely even a thought, but before you could think better of it, you answered honestly.

“Not really. Just work. Oh, uh—actually, I’m meeting up with Geto sometime this week.”

Silence.

“…Gojo?”

A sharp inhale on the other end. Then, suddenly—

“This guy’s working in the shadows.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“Oh my god.” His tone was deadly serious, but you could practically hear the grin behind it. “I had no idea…He’s been playing the long game. Years of silence, and now—bam. He’s got you exactly where he wants you.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I knew it. I knew he was too smooth, too strategic—”

“Gojo, stop.”

“—waiting, biding his time, and then when I least expect it, he makes his move.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “This is why I don’t tell you things. There are no moves being made.”

Gojo laughed, full and delighted, like this was the funniest thing to happen all week. You could imagine him now—probably stretched out on his couch—taking up too much space, grinning like an idiot.

“In all seriousness, though,” he said, still sounding far too amused, “what’s up with that? Since when do you and Geto make plans?”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around your phone. “I don’t know. He just texted me out of nowhere. Said he was 'working in my area now' and wanted to catch up.”

A pause. Barely a second, but you caught it.

Then—Gojo sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Oof. Wow.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Nah, nothing. It’s just—you ever watch a nature documentary?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“You know, like, those ones where the predator stalks its prey for ages before it finally pounces?”

“…Gojo.”

He let out a long, dramatic sigh. “It’s just crazy. I always thought Geto was a patient guy, but this? This is another level. He’s been lurking in the tall grass for years, and now that the timing is right? Bam. He strikes.”

You groaned. “Oh my god.”

“No, no, I respect it,” he continued, completely ignoring you. “It’s a slow-burn strategy. Like, why rush when you can let the tension marinate, y’know?”

“There’s no tension. Or—ew—marinating. Why are you like this? ”

“Mm.” He made a noncommittal noise. “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Because I dunno,” he mused, “feels like a little tension. Maybe a tiny bit. A smidge. A sprinkle.”

“Gojo.”

“There was definitely a little spark back in university,” he said, far too casually.

You scoffed. “Huh? No, there wasn’t. We barely even spoke.”

Gojo let out an incredulous laugh. “Were we even in the same room? You two had vibes.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“I’m an eyewitness, actually,” he corrected, as if that made it any better. “And what I ‘eye-witnessed’ was undeniable tension.”

“You 'eye-witnessed' nothing.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “This is why I don’t tell you things.”

“I think it’s great, honestly,” he continued, undeterred. 

“You guys should totally bond. Maybe do one of those, I dunno, deep and meaningful heart-to-hearts. Oh! Maybe a romantic little dinner. Candlelight. Soft music. He reaches across the table to hold your hand—”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait! Wait, what are you wearing?”

You froze. “What the fuck?”

“For the meetup, duh.” He sounded way too amused. “Gotta dress for the occasion.”

You groaned so loudly it was nearly a scream, and Gojo lost it, laughing so hard you heard something clatter in the background.

“God, you make this too easy,” he wheezed.

“You’re the worst.”

You were going to regret telling him about this forever.

Before you could dwell on it too much, Gojo spoke again. “Well, I, for one, fully support this development. As long as you keep me updated.”

You snorted. “Yeah, because that’ll happen.”

“Hey! I have a right to know if my best friend is being seduced by my other best friend.”

“No one is being seduced—god are you even capable of shutting your mouth?”

“Just saying,” he said lightly, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “If you show up to our next reunion looking all starry-eyed, I’ll know exactly who to blame.”

You scoffed. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll know Suguru’s lost his touch.”

You groaned, pushing your face into a pillow as Gojo laughed through the speaker. He was ridiculous. 

You ended the call with an exasperated sigh, tossing your phone onto the other side of the couch like it had personally wronged you.

Silence settled over your apartment, but your mind was anything but quiet.

Gojo was just messing with you—he always did. But still, his words lingered, replaying in your head like a song you couldn’t shake.

“Feels like a little tension”—“There was definitely a little spark back in university”

Ridiculous.

There was no tension. Not back then. Not now.

…Right?

You scoffed aloud, as if that would somehow erase the warmth you felt spread across your cheeks.

Good thing Gojo hadn’t FaceTimed you—he’d never let you live it down.

The man had a sixth sense for embarrassment, and your flushed face would’ve been prime ammunition.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

*2 Years Prior: Campus Library — 11:46pm*

The study room was too small for the three of you—Gojo made sure of that. He sprawled in his chair, long limbs kicked out beneath the table, tapping a pencil against his textbook like he was drumming a countdown to his own inevitable failure. 

The midterm was tomorrow, and judging by his groaning, he had barely started reviewing.

"I don't get why we even need to know this crap," Gojo whined, head rolling back against the chair. "I could fail this test and still be smarter than half the students here."

Across from him, Geto turned a page in his notebook, pen gliding smoothly over his notes. "Then fail," he murmured, voice steady, unbothered. "See how that works out for you."

Gojo huffed, but Geto wasn’t paying much attention to him anymore.

His gaze had flickered across the table a few times now, to you.

Your elbow rested against the desk, cheek propped in your palm, eyes flicking between your notes and the thick textbook at your side. The tip of your pen hovered between your lips, an unconscious habit that surfaced whenever you were deep in thought. A line appeared between your brows—concentration. Frustration.

Geto let his pen roll between his fingers, movements slow, measured. 

The numbers on your page hadn’t changed in minutes. His eyes traced the faint tap of your index finger repeatedly tapped your cheek, the subtle way your grip on the pen tightened and loosened, like your thoughts were trying to work themselves out through movement.

He tapped his own pen lightly against the table near your textbook, breaking your trance. "You’re stuck on that problem."

Your head lifted, blinking. "Huh?"

The side of his mouth curled, almost imperceptibly. "You’ve been staring at the same equation for five minutes."

A quiet pause. Then you huffed, setting your pen down and leaning back slightly in your chair. "It's impossible. I’ve tried solving it three different ways, and none of them work."

Geto exhaled, shifting his chair closer. The scrape of wood against tile was barely noticeable beneath Gojo's continued dramatics. "Here. Let me see."

His arm brushed against yours—barely, just enough for him to notice the warmth of your skin through your sleeve. You smelled like warm vanilla and old books, a mix of whatever candle you always burned in your dorm and the ever-present scent of study sessions in the library. 

After a moment, your brows lifted, expectant, seemingly waiting for an explanation.

His gaze flickered to your lips, still caught between your teeth, before dropping to the numbers scrawled across the paper. With a smooth movement, he picked up your pen, turning it between his fingers once before tapping against the right equation. 

“Here,” he murmured, the weight of his voice settling between you. “You skipped a step.”

Your breath hitched—so faint he almost missed it. Almost.

He kept his voice level as he pointed to the equation. "Your mistake is here. You're missing a step between these two lines."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Seriously? Ugh, that’s so stupid. I should’ve caught that."

"You're tired." He said it plainly, matter-of-fact. "That’s all."

Another pause. You tilted your head slightly, watching him  –  Like you wanted to say something.

Then Gojo launched a crumpled paper ball at Geto’s head.

"Hey! If you two are done whispering sweet nothings over math problems, can someone help me before I actually fail this test?"

Gojo’s paper ball bounced off Geto’s head and landed on the desk with an unceremonious plop.

Geto barely reacted, only sighing through his nose like he’d already resigned himself to Gojo’s antics long before this moment. He passed you the highlighter you had been reaching for, his fingers grazing yours—just barely, just long enough that it wasn’t entirely accidental.

You hesitated, lips parting slightly, but whatever thought had been forming was cut short when Gojo's loud voice interrupted you.

"*Phew,* Finally! I was starting to think you two were gonna start privatizing your study notes.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting in your seat. “Have you ever made your own notes? Ever? Once?”

Gojo scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t need to. You are both so lovely I don't need them.”

Shaking your head, you refocused on your notes, tapping your pencil against the paper before absently bringing it between your lips again. It was muscle memory at this point—something you did when you were getting deep in thought, when you were stuck.

Geto noticed immediately.

His gaze flickered down, almost involuntarily, catching on the slight indentation the pencil made against your lower lip. 

For just a second, his fingers stilled where they had been idly rolling his pen, the movement betraying the momentary shift in his focus.

He looked away, back at his own notes—but too late. You had caught the lapse, the flicker of hesitation, and the way his fingers flexed slightly against the spiral binding of his notebook before resuming their casual twirl.

But it appeared as if you hadn’t realized the reason behind his hesitation.

Geto cleared his throat, voice still effortlessly smooth but quieter now. “Fine. Let’s make sure you don’t completely bomb this.”

Gojo immediately perked up. “Thank god. I was losing hope, honestly.”

Neither of you responded.

Geto twirled his pen between his fingers again—slow, thoughtful. His eyes drifted back to you, studying, considering. Then—his voice, quiet yet deliberate—

“You do that a lot y'know”

Your brows knitted slightly. “Do what?”

“The pencil,” he said, tilting his chin toward you. “You chew on it when you’re focused.”

You blinked, seeming caught off guard. 

Gojo snorted. “Wow, Suguru. Riveting observation.”

But Geto wasn’t paying attention to him. His eyes didn’t even flinch—He was still watching you, something unreadable flickering behind his dark eyes, like he was committing the detail to memory.

“Didn’t realize you paid that much attention,” you muttered, sounding unaffected by his gaze.

“Yeah?” His lips curved, the ghost of a smirk. “Guess I just notice things.”

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

Back in the present, you exhaled sharply, shaking off Gojo’s previous teasing as you always did after your phone calls.

Your phone sat beside you, its dark screen reflecting your face—lips pressed together, brows drawn, eyes still distant, lingering somewhere between then and now.

You scoffed under your breath. A little spark? Yeah, okay.

If Gojo had been trying to get under your skin, he’d succeeded. But not in the way he probably thought.

You thought about it some more—what he had said on the phone—there had been no spark—not the way he meant, anyway. 

It was just... familiarity. That quiet, unspoken understanding that came with years of late-night study sessions, shared snacks from vending machines, and the kind of silence that never felt uncomfortable. Geto’s attentiveness and willingness to help was just who he is, it did not mean anything more than that.

If there had ever been anything more, wouldn’t you have noticed?

Your gaze dropped to the phone resting in your lap, thumb grazing the edge of the screen before you realized you had already picked it up. With a quiet sigh, you leaned back against the couch, unlocking it without a second thought.

The message thread with Geto blinked up at you.

His last message was still there. Still waiting. Still unanswered.

"Geto: I know a place. I’ll send you the details later this week."

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating for only a second.

Then, finally—

You: So, when’s this catch-up happening?

The message sent before you could overthink it.

With a yawn, you pushed yourself off the couch, stretching your arms overhead before trudging toward your bedroom. The day had been long, and the weight of it was finally settling over you, making your limbs heavy.

Flicking off the light, you slid under the covers, the warmth of your blankets pulling you in almost instantly. You sank into the mattress, letting out a slow breath as your eyes fluttered shut.

Sleep came quickly, tugging at the edges of your consciousness.

Then—just as you were about to slip under completely…

Your phone buzzed against the nightstand.

Your eyes cracked open, pulse skipping despite yourself.

For a moment, you didn’t move. Didn’t reach for it.

But eventually, you did.

a/n — I hope you guys like this. as always lmk your thoughts <3 taglist ⸺ @killak9mi; @nikilig; @pinkhoneydrop; @armfloaties; @sat-hoe-ru; @you-transfix-me; @kaqua; @rriwyu; @erenspersonalwh0re; @dishs0pe **please note: if your name is striked out, that means I was unable to tag you, please check your settings if you'd like to be tagged**

[yammpi3]

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. // 𝑾.𝑪 1.9𝒌

— feat. Tsundere Disassembly drone V x Flirty worker drone reader

synopsis. Reader makes V agree to go on a date with them even though V treats the reader poorly despite secretly liking them back.

— content warning. kissing!! v being extremely (sorta) rude to reader and the reader making lots of suggestive jokes..not that bad guys I PROMISE.

— authors note. This was a request sent by anon, again THANK YOU SO MUCH for requesting a x reader..ilsym I hope its to ur liking I struggled just a tad with it. (there might be some spelling errors I didn't catch soso)

"Ugh, not again." V grumbled as she saw you approaching her with a stupid grin on your face. She was sitting casually on one of the desks in a deserted classroom, one leg hanging off as she tapped away at her phone. Her other friends had all cleared out for "lunch," leaving her alone with you.

"Why hello there, V! Hard at work, I see?" You said with a wink. She rolled her bright optics in response.

"What do you want now, drone?" V said with disdain, not even bothering to look up from the conversation she was having with Lizzy on her phone. She was always busy, whether with school or just goofing off with friends. But you were a persistent pest that just didn't know when to quit bothering her; in reality, she didn't mind at all; she liked having you near, but the thought of her liking you like that irked her a bit.

"Aw, don't be like that, V.., I just wanted to come to admire the view from up close," you said as you leaned in casually against the edge of the desk, just a bit closer than personal space allowed.

 

V scoffed derisively. "Don't you have some bolts to tighten up or something??"

Undeterred, you simply smiled wider, eternally charmed by her prickly demeanor. "Oh, I do love it when you talk dirty to me."

 

V finally looked up from her phone, swinging her legs off the desk in one fluid motion as she rose to her full, intimidating height, towering over you authoritatively. "Listen here, screw loose. I am not interested; I will never be interested, and if you don't leave me alone right now, I'll turn you into a tasty snack. Got that?" Her eyes bore into yours with fiery intensity.

 

You held V's intense gaze calmly, unperturbed by her threat. "A tasty snack, huh? Well, you do always look delicious yourself.”

"You just don't know when to quit, do you? Y/N?" She sneered, though the edge in her voice had softened slightly.

"What can I say? I'm devoted to my cause."

V hesitated, “Tch, you're hopeless. Scram before I tear you to shreds." She turned away with a huff, hiding her smirk.

You grinned, knowing you were getting under her plating just as you wanted, even if she liked to pretend otherwise. "Aw, don't be like that, ViVi; you know, tearing me to shreds would just be considered foreplay to me.”

 

V whirled back around, optics blazing. "Don't call me that!" she snarled, losing her composure entirely for once.

You held your hands up in mock surrender, still smiling cheekily. "Sorry, babes, I know you like to keep up the 'mean girl' act."  

V closed the distance between you in an instant, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and yanking you close till your faceplates were mere inches apart.

 

"Another word from you, and you'll be just an oil stain." She hissed, tightening the grip she had on your clothing.

You held onto her wrist gently, looking calmly into her fiery optics. "I'll go, on one condition."

V growled impatiently. "Im listening.”

"Go on a date with me this Saturday."

 

An incredulous look crossed her faceplate. For a moment, you thought she might actually rip you apart on the spot. But then she made a noise of disgust and shoved you away.

"Fine, if it'll get you to leave me alone! Now get out of here!"

With a wink and salute, you sauntered off, feeling victorious. But V stood fuming for a moment before pulling out her phone to text someone.

 

V (12:35 p.m.): Liz…

 

Liz (12:36 p.m.): What's up?

 

V (12:36 p.m.): That idiot asked me out on a date this Saturday.

 

Liz (12:37 p.m.): OMG OMG NO WAY!! What did you say?!

 

V rolled her eyes as she sat back onto the desk, with one of her legs casually flung over the side. As if she'd ever actually be interested in one of the worker drones.

 

V (12:37 p.m.): I said fine just to get them off my back. I wouldn’t actually go on a date with them.

 

Liz (12:37 p.m.): Suuure V, whatever helps you sleep at night lol. We both know you'd be sad if they canceled 💀

 

V (12:38 p.m.): AS IF. They're so damn annoying.

 

Liz (12:38 p.m.): Mhmm sure... I think you secretly love the attention you get from them 🤗‼️ But ew romance.

 

V (12:39 p.m.): Shut up! I do not. I'm only going to prove to them that I'm not interested.

 

Liz (12:39 p.m.): Riiight. Well, have fun on your "not date" date! Try not to fall too hard 💕💕

 

V (12:39 p.m.): UGH, you're the worst. TTYL

 

Liz (12:40 p.m.): Bye boo!!

 

V exits the chat and sighs, trying to ignore the flutter in her core. As if she'd ever like that idiot...right?

 

Saturday night rolled around sooner than V would have liked. She found herself hovering outside the door to your quarters, pride and nerves battling within her core. 

V hovered outside your housing unit, glancing around as if embarrassed to be seen there.

She rang the buzzer with more force than necessary. Not even a millisecond later, the door quickly slid open to reveal you looking a bit surprised.

“V- you...” Your voice cracked slightly in your elation. Every part of your being vibrated with anticipation at the sight of her. “You actually came! I was honestly expecting to get ditched, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

Stepping aside, you gestured for her to enter with a beaming grin. V hesitated, shifting her weight as if ready to bolt at any moment.

V's optics roved the inside of your house, taking in the cozy room illuminated by strings of fairy lights in every corner. On the couch sat a pile of fluffy blankets and a tray of oilcakes.

 

"This better not be some lame romcom you've got queued up, Y/N." She grumbled, fighting a smile.

"Only the cheesiest for you,” you laughed, gesturing for her to get comfortable on the couch. You picked out a random romance movie and hit play as you settled in beside her, draping a blanket over both of your laps.

 

V tried to watch the movie, she really did. But she found herself continually drifting to study your face instead of the movie on screen. The way your optics lit up at each corny joke or sweet scene, your smile that never seemed to fade. It was somehow endearing to see.

As the film played on, V gradually relaxed on the couch, the coolant and oilcakes forgotten on the coffee table. Hesitantly, you raised your arm to rest it around V’s shoulders. You saw her tense up, and just when you thought she was ready to pull away...she didn't. PROGRESS. PROGRESS.

 

By the final act, V had completely given up any pretense of paying attention. Her head rested heavy on your chestplate now as your gentle fingers traced idle patterns on her arm. It was so peaceful she felt herself nearly powering down.

When the credits rolled, at last, V reluctantly lifted her head to meet your gaze. Your smile lit up the room better than any fairy light ever could.

 

"So...what did you think? Was it the lamest date ever?" You teased softly.

V averted her eyes, fighting a smile of her own. "It wasn't...the worst, I guess." She admitted quietly.

You beamed, gently cupping her cheek to turn her face back to you. "Then maybe we could do it again sometime?" You asked hopefully.

 

V shoved your hand away but made no effort to move and pull further from your side. She gazed into your optics with an unusual vulnerability shining in her own.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Drone. This changes nothing between us." She huffed, though the effect was dampened by the yellow glow rising in her cheeks.

 

You smiled softly, knowing how much it must hurt her pride to show such weakness, even for a moment. Reaching out tentatively, you brushed a lock of her silver hair back from her face gently.

V's harsh reply faltered on her lips under your tender look. Her eyes searched yours as if seeking something, some hint that this wasn't a cruel joke and that it was in fact real.

"V...you don't have to pretend with me. Not unless that's truly what you want." You whispered.

 

For a long moment she was silent, warring with parts of herself not even she fully understood. Then slowly, excruciatingly so, V lifted a hand to cup your cheek in return.

"Fine. One more date. But if you breathe a word of this to anyone, Y/N, you'll be begging me for deactivation."

"Oh..~ my lips are sealed." You grinned, delighted by this small victory.

 

V sighed in long-suffering, but you caught the playful glint in her eyes. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

"Yet here you are anyway." You teased softly.

Leaning in, you paused a hair's breadth away from her lips, savoring the hitch in her breath. V closed the final distance with a surge of impatience.

For a few blissful moments you drowned in the taste of each other, V melting against your frame like she belonged there. All too soon she tore herself away, fans whirring loudly in the silence.

 

A [chosen/color] glow rose to your cheeks as V pulled away, leaving you a stuttering, dazzled mess. You struggled to process what had just happened.

V watched you with an unreadable expression, arms crossed defensively over her chest. But you saw the telltale yellow tinge on her screen that gave away her flustered state.

 

"Well, say something??” She huffed when your stunned silence dragged on.

You blinked rapidly, fighting to collect your scattered processes. "I, uh, that was...wow."

V rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Real articulate, as always."

A dopey grin broke out on your faceplate.

"It was amazing. You're—you're amazing…"

 

"It's not like I did it because I like you or anything, stupid!" She muttered, flicking your forehead with a resigned sigh. But you saw the glint of amusement in her gaze again.

Reaching up, you gently caught her hand in your own, marveling at how big and delicate it seemed in your smaller grasp. Stroking over her plating with adoring strokes of your thumb, you watched her reaction carefully.

 

Her fans picked up speed, betraying how affected she was though she tried to maintain her aloof facade.

Slowly, hesitantly, her fingers curled to return your hold, gripping just firmly enough to send a thrill through your system.

 

"We both know you feel the same way I do, V." You said softly, giving her a tender smile.

Her resolve seemed to waver under your earnest look. Lashes fluttered as she averted her eyes, struggling with emotions she wasn't used to expressing.

"And...what way is that, exactly?" She asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

 

Cupping her cheek, you turned her face back to you with the utmost care. "That you like me too. Maybe even more than that."

V leaned instinctively into your touch with a small sigh. Her free hand came up to cover yours, holding you there as if your warmth was the only thing anchoring her.

 

"You're such an idiot." She scoffed, though her words held no bite. Leaning in, she pressed a chaste kiss to your lips that spoke louder than any confession.

You smiled into the kiss, joy threatening to make your very core burst. Pulling her closer still, you kissed her thoroughly, pouring every ounce of love and affection into the contact.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[holycowboytiger]

Poly!141 x Hacker!Reader

Now now now- hear me out..... add a twist ...

GN!Reader

(Autistic!Reader anyone?)

CW: NSFW, Reader sees TF141..doing the sideways tango, Reader is not as harmless as they seem, mentions of murder, canon violence,

You work on base as one of the ''pencil pushers'' one of the useless tech drones who are constantly overlooked despite putting in hours upon hours of overtime to avoid people stealing and potentially selling military trade secrets and keeping classified files classified and only within the contents of the licensed computers.

You keep to yourself, most of the tech drones aren't known for being the most social, but even by their standards you're a shut in, alot of them find you off-putting,, and awkward to make conversation with, but that's ok! you like working alone, by yourself, in your own space.,.. and truth is you hate the majority of the people you work with anyway.

Most of your co-workers absolutely adore the 141, would lick the dirt off their boots of they asked, they're seen as heros, and you're just about done with most of the men you work with claiming they could've joined that taskforce if they didn't break their knee when they were 15, you're actually two seconds from breaking their neck.... but you have to keep yourself in check...

''You don't believe me?''

''You take 25 minutes to recover from walking up two flights of stairs Peter, so I think you should focus on what you're barely good at, which is this job.''

''Woah.. ok damn''

You could care less for the group, were they impressive? yes, from the missions and files that you have access to, their stats and skills were something to gawk at, something to admire, but, the admiration slowly fades when the one by the name of Soap brings his disgusting laptop with sticky keys to you, claiming it has a virus talking about about ''the Russians hacking it''

''I- dinnae mean ta bother- its just been- freak'n out on me and i dinnae know what's happenin with it- d'ya think it's the Russians?''

''erm.... I don't think so..''

The admiration completely disappears when you dig deeper into the laptop and find the various porn sites your dear ''Hero'' Soap had been spending hours on, not to judge, everyone enjoys a bit of porn from time to time, but the fact that its on an actual tactical laptop, military property, that you now have to see, and you now have to confront what the soldier was into.

From ''Masked Military Men'' to ''Office Secretary'' ''Military Captain Punishe- you get the fucking gist. AND! the list goes on, youre pretty sure that the entire taskforce is fucking by the end of your sweep,,,, and it only confirms it when you discover a file that was taking up far too much space.

Soap had actually been complaining about the device running slow too, so you decided to take a look, before deleting the file, incase it was something important...

Jesus fucking christ you should not have, you actually should've thrown the computer at his head when he brought it to you, you should've actually just never signed up for this job and kept with your previous one,,, even if it was quite,,,, dangerous

The file contained 100s and 100s of videos of the 141... together... getting it on..doing the sideways tango? fornicatin- ok they were fucking. They were fucking RAW and NASTY, and you're so sure one of the videos contained a leash, ears, muzzle and a tail, but you clicked off before you ruin your eyes any further.

Now now- before the reader starts squinting, you weren't judging the taskforce for getting it on with eachother, frankly it was none of your business, you weren't disgusted, just,, uncomfortable, you've never met these men- properly, yet you've seen their dick and balls.... you're allowed to feel a little weird, that and- Soap had trusted you to remove a virus, not go snooping into his computer files, you felt as if you had overstepped, even if he was a shameless sex fiend by the amount of porn he consumed- you still felt as if you'd pushed into his laptop too far,, now,, what to do,,,

Do you: A: Let him know that you have seen the videos of him and his taskforce, and apologise to all hell and hopes he doesn't murder you,, or worse- report you to HR....is there a HR in the military...? B: Remind him that this is military property and should not be treated as a personal possession, kind of hinting at the fact that you saw.. something.....?

or C: Pretend you saw nothing and give the device back to him, and just hope and pray you never see him walking around again,, maybe pray that you never see his taskforce wondering the building,, you cannot look them all in the face knowing that you've seen them,,, in their birthday suits lets just say.

....SO- we all agree on C? Good because that's what you end up doing

You find Soap the next day, shove the computer into his hands and hope to god he never needs your help again.

He thanks you, but not before you scurry away to your cave (desk) and hope he doesn't remember where it is.

''Soap-.. Laptop.''

'Ye fixed it!? Thank fuck- it wasn't-''

''No Russians.''

''ahhh, whateve'r it was, thank ye mate''

''mhm.....welcome''

Now, to clear something up, your perception of him isn't ruined by some porn you found on his laptop, for fucks sake you had castrated a man before- oh.......uhhh,,, i mean,,,,,, you've,,, youv'e seen worse.... dark web stuff...Yeah!!! Dark web stuff!

ANYWAY. You didn't judge him, truly, he was still an ok dude, you just never had a taste for the taskforce, never really shared the weird admiration others had for them, and now with , it would just be weird if you adored them as much...

You hoped he didn't take your cold shoulder to heart, and hoped that some of your coworkers would sooner label you as a weirdo introvert so he doesn't take too much offense at your avoidance of him.

You felt a little guilty everytime you saw his smile drop when you didn't wave back at him, or nod at him when he walked past, but- your awkwardness was not enough to deter him, the man was like a damned puppy, he was just too friendly, he just wanted to see you smile at him once..

SO- what did you resort to? Being rude and standoffish,, and no you weren't proud of yourself, from the death glares to the snappiness when he greeted you, his friendly nature slowly faded as he realised day by day that you were NOT going to be his friend, in another life you may have gotten along, maybe you'd have the courage to actually tell him about what you found....

''Aye! Yo! Bon! How're-''

''I'm busy.''

'oh,,,uh- sorr-''

''its fine just,, quit botherin me''

But with your past and the weird barrier you had put infront of the taskforce, you stayed away, pushed him away..

you needed to keep him away, the closer he got, the more danger you could be in,, you could be exposed,,,, or were you just paranoid? being a murde- UHHH doing SOMETHING not so legal will make you that way...

The more upset Soap was, the more eyes you could feel drilling into the back of your skull.. 141 did not take kindly to you being so.... hostile towards their,,, teammate? boyfriend????? LOVER?? HUSBAN-ok lets not get too ahead of ourselves.

But you just couldn't face them ... you saw their penises,,,,,,, yeah no you cant.

From the glares to ''accidentally'' bumping you in the halls and your lunch going missing, you had started a petty office war with the taskforce,, which was hilarious because,,,, these are trained military men- bullying(?) you in work because you made their boyfriend sad.

he even thought they were being a little.. much

''Don't ye think yer being,,, alot?''

''Nah,,, they were being a bitch.''

''ah....''

Admiration for the men? They'd be lucky if you even had a good word to say about them fucking childishimmatureassholeswhoarefuckingeacotherfuckingbitchesughyouhatethemsomuch

Ok calm down you're lowkey going crazy... you are kind of insane, but PLEASE lets try to function like a normal person and ignore these fully grown men acting like school girls... lets focus on your job!!! Please before you go back to your previous one..... for the love of god please stay focused

You do not need friends in here, you need to make sure that people aren't stealing military data, you don't need the taskforce to appreciate the work you do, you don't need to make friends in your workplace, you don't need to eat your lunch with people or stand by the water cooler and gossip you don't need your coworkers to invite you out for drinks at the weekend

You're fully booked,,,, and by fully booked I mean you either have an ,,,,, ''target'' or you're going to rot away at home, bottle in hand while you find dirt on everyone in your personal life for shits and giggles, hey! Peter is cheating on his wife!.... if he pisses you off you should call her- .....maybe- or you could use it when you needed it.

As time went on, 141 slowly got bored of inconveniencing you, thinking you got the memo,, they still didn't like you,, and still glare at you- but hey! your lunch is still where you put it!

The whole ordeal is over, I mean, you're a little more hated in the office than you once were but, that means less people bothering you, and less people in your personal space trying to get you to ''open up''

You are officially alone, you dodged the bullet that is soaps friendship and you can just.. relax... until you realise the sites that your not friend has visited, and you slowly figure with at the rate he consumes porn he will find himself with another virus in his laptop... and he's going to go to one of your coworkers and ask them to fix it since you have proven to not be up for the task again...

Theyre gonna see,,,, oh- oh no the files, the videos,,, the search history-

''aye- Peter-- ' think there's somethin' wrong with me laptop''

oh fuck.

[cornsoupflavour]

Office Space Rivalry (aespa NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

Requested by: @shockbot54

Office!Giselle/Aeri Uchinaga x Office!Male Reader

Tags: 3.4k words, rivals to lovers, wholesome?, romance, creampie, build up, office siren

You sat at your desk. It was yet another day of being a regular office worker at SM Entertainment, surrounded by piles of paperwork. In a world filled with idols and popstars, you can't help but feel a little damp about it all. The hum of the AC droned throughout the silence of the office accompanied by distant keyboard clicking.

You sat at your desk. It was yet another day of being a regular office worker at SM Entertainment, surrounded by piles of paperwork. In a world filled with idols and popstars, you can't help but feel a little damp about it all. The hum of the AC droned throughout the silence of the office accompanied by distant keyboard clicking.

Your eyes occasionally caught glimpses of Giselle, a member of aespa who had taken up a job amidst her break from stardom. Her long, dark hair flowed over her shoulders as she tapped away at her keyboard, her expression sullen and distant. You couldn't help but feel a pull towards her but stopped yourself. Her presence here has squandered your opportunities to gain a promotion, or at the very least made it ten times harder.

Giselle's hiatus from the limelight was a recent and well–kept secret. The public knew little about her personal life, only that she'd be away for a bit and won't be joining the performances. But here at SM Entertainment, the company was aware of her need for a break. She was dressed in a black blazer overcoat and a long flowy white skirt. A silver necklace with a small 'A' charm dangled between her cleavage.

The office manager passed by your desk with an air of importance. "Y/N, you'll be working with Giselle on a special project. It's for a new idol's profile, which includes a short bio, her discography, and a photoshoot concept."

You nodded in acknowledgement as your boss walked over to Giselle's desk to let her in on the same news. As he walked back to his office, you could see the disgruntled visage of Giselle peaking right above your desk divider.

You let out a drawn out sigh as you reluctantly made your way to Giselle's desk. The two of you never saw eye to eye, and your distaste for her was palpable. Maybe it was your jealousy... Maybe it was just that you wanted her so bad and you couldn't admit it to yourself. Giselle, on the other hand, couldn't stand your uppity attitude, regarding you as just another brown–noser.

"Good morning, Giselle. Looks like we've been assigned to work on a project together." you said, your voice monotonous and devoid of emotion.

Giselle looked up, her eyes narrowing. "Fantastic," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

With that, the two of you began to begrudgingly work on the project together. Your dislike for each other radiated from your pores. As you two scrolled through the new idol's information and material. Giselle would intentionally misplace important folders, and you would occasionally interrupt her while she was voicing out an idea to steal said idea. This back and forth would increase in passive–aggressive animosity gradually for the course of the first few weeks of the project.

On the first checkpoint, the two of you presented a draft of the idol's profile. The manager looked pleased and thanked you for your hard work. "It's a great start, and I believe with a few more tweaks, we'll have a solid profile. Keep up the good work, you two."

You and Giselle both nodded, unable to muster a smile. As you parted ways back to your respective desks, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered between you. It was like, despite not clicking on a personal level, you and Giselle complement each other well on a business level. It had been a tiring, stressful and oddly entertaining few weeks, but you two had made some progress... with the project, of course.

As the weeks dragged on, the project began to slowly take shape. You found yourself unable to deny the professional synergy between the two of you. Giselle, as an idol with experience, gave insight into the music industry, allowing you to form a cohesive and realistic looking profile for the idol. This gave you two the edge and even sped up the progress by a substantial amount.

As you worked on the profile, you found Giselle's opinions invaluable, much to your chagrin. Every time you'd disagree, you couldn't help but reflect on it when you got home and realised how right she was. She knew exactly how to word things to make the new idol's story more relatable and engaging. It pained you to agree or even highlight her ideas and opinions but... her knowledge is what helped you two progress this far.

The discography was a slightly different beast. Giselle's experience in the studio helped guide the project in the right direction. You'd listen to the songs she recommended, incorporating them into the discography, and as a result, the new idol's work was steadily becoming more cohesive. Despite still being in aespa, Giselle opted for you to go through the discography of other groups and idols.

The photoshoot concept was where Giselle shined the most. With her fashion sense and styling, she could see the complete picture of how an idol's story should be told through visuals. Not wanting to let the rivalry go, you'd argue over the smallest details, like the color palette and the type of props. Much to your dismay however, you'd eventually settle on something that worked for both of you.

Tensions between the two of you had seemingly eased. You were unable to pick her apart anymore for you never had a reason to. It felt like you might be on the path of... becoming friends... You found yourself laughing at her sarcastic remarks and even cracking a joke or two. The project brought you closer in a way you didn't expect. You could feel yourself wanting to be closer, wanting to be around her, wanting... her? However, there was still a simmering animosity there, like a fuse waiting to be lit.

On the day of the final presentation, the two of you were decked out in your respective work attire. Giselle was in a short, black dress with long sleeves that hugged her waist and curves, paired with black, knee–high boots. You, on the other hand, were in a navy blue suit with a crisp, white shirt beneath. Once again, you felt your disdain towards her challenged as the way she dressed sent an odd feeling surging through your body. It's like you couldn't look away.

The two waited in a meeting room, sat on opposite sides of the long desk. The manager walked in, his expression impressed. "This is fantastic work, you two. You've done an excellent job in bringing this new idol's profile to life. It's a perfect reflection of who she is. I should put you on more projects together."

The moment the manager left, Giselle smirked. "You know, for a minute there, I almost thought we were a team." Her tone was slightly aggravating, and her words were a clear jab at you.

You clenched your jaw, the familiar dislike and disdain for her bubbling back up. "Y–Yeah, well, it was all an act on my end. You're lucky I needed this project to succeed." The words were spoken without a single glance in her direction. You felt an odd ache in your heart, it was almost as if you actually thought things were straightening out between the two of you.

Giselle's eyes narrowed, and she stood from the desk with a huff. "Whatever. I'm going to head out for lunch. I'm too hungry for this right now, Y/N." With that, she stormed off.

You shook your head, letting out a sigh as you stood from the desk as well. You made your way to the desk to lay your stuff down before heading out of the building to grab lunch, you noticed that it seemed to be raining heavily and brought your coat with you. That's when you spot a familiar curvy figure at the building's entrance, hiding just out of sight. You walked over to her as you stepped out of the sliding glass doors.

"I thought you were heading off to lunch, what happened?" you asked, your tone smug.

Giselle looked up at you, obviously not pleased to see you, "...are you blind or something? It's raining, and I haven't got an umbrella. I'm just gonna sit here and wait it out."

You playfully pouted as you too looked out at the pouring rain. You sighed and hung your head. "Get up." You gestured for her to stand up before taking your own coat off and handing it to her.

She hesitated before grabbing it reluctantly and scurrying off into the rain.

"HEY– THAT'S MY COAT–" you chased her as she ran.

You couldn't help but stand for a moment and laugh to yourself as this hiatus–ridden idol ran through the rain using your suit coat as cover. You shook your head before braving the downpour yourself, trying to catch up with, but she seemed to be quite fast. Her black dress hugged her curvy frame, and for a moment, you couldn't help but admire how well it fit her. Wet strands of her hair clung to her face as she turned back to face you teasingly, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of protectiveness.

You ran through the rain as she did the same. Eventually, you caught up to her, finding shelter under a building. "Jeez, for someone in high heels– you run fast..." Giselle glanced at you, a hint of a smirk forming. "Yeah? Well, I'm hungry, sorry if you can't keep up~" she tossed the wet coat into your arms, granting a look of slight discomfort from you.

You began to ring your coat out as she approached you once more, "When you're done, just come and find me. I guess I could let you eat with me." As quickly as she approached, she left, back towards the table. 

About half an hour passed, you sat adjacent to her, enjoying a delicious meal. "Thanks for the jacket... by the way." You raised your head from your meal, nodding with your mouth full. "Don't worry about it. Figured it was the least I could do since you kinda helped us get the project done as quick as we did."

"Sorry for throwing your jacket back at you..." she apologised with a hint of brattiness. It was as if she wasn't really sorry. "It's fine. You don't like me and I was kinda expecting you'd do that."

She sighed before turning to face you, "And what do you want in return?" She batted her eyes, her confidence and sex appeal on full display.

You cleared your throat, feeling the heat in your cheeks. "Uh... Just pay for lunch, and we're cool," you stuttered out, trying to play it cool.

"Fine," Giselle replied, her face returning back to looking void.

As you two continued eating, Giselle started to open up. She wasn't letting you in on her lore, but more of just, coming out of her shell and speaking to you. You found yourself laughing at her jokes, enjoying her quips and sarcasm. The more time you spent with her, the more you realized you were starting to fall for her. You couldn't deny the way her gaze made your stomach flutter, or how her touch sent shivers down your spine.

Giselle, however, tried to maintain her distance. Every time she caught you staring, she'd make a snide comment or change the subject. You could see the unapproving glare in her eyes, but it only fueled your desire to win her over. It wasn't that she hated you, she was just, not into like that... not yet, at least.

However, as time went on, more lunches and work sessions went by, and Giselle began to open up around you. The sarcastic remarks became more playful, and the subtle glares disappeared.

One evening, a few minutes till the end of the work day, your manager approached your desk to let you know that you and Giselle will be joining the new idol on a tour. You looked up, your expression surprised. "What do you mean? You want us to buy tickets for all her shows?"

"What? No– You two will be joining her as she goes around for her tours. I'll book you one extra room for you two to share because that's how much we've got left of the budget. No funny business, or do, I don't really care."

His voice growled at the end as he turned and walked to Giselle's desk to tell her the exact same thing. As he left, you could see Giselle's eyes poking right above the desk dividers, a knowing eyebrow raise etched on her face. A few days go by and you two have found yourself in a hotel room together after the new idol's first performance. Giselle, now much more comfortable with you than before, leaned in close to you, her chest almost touching your arm. "Y/N, I think you've done a great job with this project," she whispered in your ear. You could feel her warm breath, and your heart raced.

"Wha– Huh?" you stuttered, your cheeks burning red.

She smirked before returning to unpack her things. "You wanna go out for a drink?" She asked, her ass swaying in the air as she reached down for her suitcase. You couldn't help but be drawn to her, like she was some sort of siren. You slowly approached her before deciding to grab her waist and gently buck yours against hers.

"What are you doing?" Giselle asked, standing back up. "You need something?"

You snapped out of your trance–like state, "Huh? What? Oh, uhh nothing. Sorry, just uhh– Yeah, it's nothing." You waddled back to your side of the room, blinking sporadically. "Yeah, I'd be down for some drinks." Giselle raised an eyebrow at you, not entirely sure of what just happened, but decided to brush it off.

You both arrived at the bar later that night and ordered a cocktail each. Giselle sipped her cocktail, her hair tousled, and her makeup a tad smudged from the hectic day of watching over this new idol. But your gaze settled on Giselle, entranced. As the night went on, the air grew thick with flirtation.

Eventually, Giselle reached out and took your hand, her fingers entwined with yours. "Y/N, I don't know what it is about you, but you've grown on me," she admitted, her eyes searching for yours, unsure.

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. "And I've grown on you, too, Giselle," you responded, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. It was an odd feeling. You could tell she was still quite reserved but she said it. You'd grown onto her. Maybe... just maybe, you should seize this opportunity, with a kiss...

You leaped into her arms, pulling her close for a passionate, deep kiss. The grumpy and unapproving façade slipped away, replaced by passion and desire. Her tongue began to intertwine with yours, as both your hands gripped onto her ass. Was this the cocktails? Certainly not, right? It can't be that you two got this drunk over one cocktail.

But alas, it wasn't the alcohol. It was the gradual build up of desire fostered through business rivalry and the need to be better than the other. You couldn't take it anymore, you lifted her into a bridal carry and rushed her back to the hotel room. Your frantic movements looked as though you were about to piss your pants. You probably were, but not due to poor bladder management, maybe just excitement.

Once in, you slammed the door shut, still holding Giselle in your arms. You could feel her heart racing against your chest, echoing yours. With a smirk, you laid her on the bed, the sheets crinkling beneath her. Giselle's plaid skirt clung to her hips and thighs, and her black lace panties revealed themselves.

She nodded, a hungry look in her eyes. "Then have me~ Take them off, Y/N."

You slowly pulled her panties down, until they reached her ankles. Giselle lifted her legs, slipping them off, revealing her moist, wet folds. Your cock twitched, eager to be enveloped by her. You licked your fingers before gliding two of them over her folds.

You unbuttoned your shirt, letting Giselle gaze at and caress your chest with her fingers. "Damn, you were hiding that from me?" Your pants pooled somewhere on the room floor as you lined yourself up with her entrance. Giselle laid there, her eyes teasing but also begging. She adjusted her glasses and rolled her top up, just enough for her gorgeous twin girls to be seen, still confined by her lacey black bra, but not enough for her top to be off.

"Not yet, Y/N~ You wanna see them? Feel them? You've gotta earn it~" She teased, tracing your jawline with her finger. She reached up and grabbed you by the back of your neck, pulling you in for another, intense kiss. The kiss was deep, hungry, and passionate, your tongues mingling as you plunged yourself into her.

Breaking the kiss, you feel your cock bottom her out, the tip of your cock already dripping with pre–cum inside her. "FUCK– YOU'RE SO TIGHT–" Giselle's eyes widen as she feels you inside her for the first time.

"NNGH~ Fuck yes, Y/N!" she responded, her voice shaky with desire.

You smirked as you began to pound her roughly, your lips unable to pull themselves away from hers. She bit her lip, moaning softly.

"Aahh, Y/N, I'm...", she let out a breathy moan, "...so full. You feel so fucking good, Y/N."

You smirked, thrusting in and out of her slow and steady at first. Giselle's legs wrapped around your waist, her nails digging in.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." Giselle moaned, arching her back, hips moving to match your thrusts.

Giselle's desire is burned brightly within her, and you loved feeling the power of being inside her. You're in control, the rhythm of your thrusts increasing in speed, causing Giselle's moans to grow louder.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don't stop... Mmmf~" Giselle encouraged, her moans garnering more intensity.

You couldn't, you wouldn't stop. Your thrusts quicken, your hips slamming into her, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. You lean down to kiss her, your mouths crashing together, your tongues tangling, each thrust aligning with a sharp inhale from Giselle.

The heat between the two of you was intoxicating, and Giselle's moans grew louder, her grip on your back tightening. You can feel the walls of her pussy gripping you tighter and tighter, milking you for all you're worth.

"You like this, don't you? You like feeling my cock bottom you out."

Giselle nodded, her eyes rolling out as her tongue stuck out. You leaned down and used your teeth to lift her bra off her tits before helping yourself to them. You flicked each nipple with your tongue, letting your head swim onto them like a baby being breastfed.

"Y/N, I'm... I'm gonna cum... oh, God, Y/N," she panted, her walls clenching around you as she reached her climax. "Please– Kiss me–"

She pressed her lips onto yours as she let herself indulge in your taste. She felt your cock twitch and throb within her. "Cum inside me. Breed me."

Hearing the way she begged and commanded nearly pushed you over the edge. "I'm... I'm close, Giselle..." you panted, your thrusts became more frantic, the build–up to climax an intense, heady feeling.

Giselle's eyes fluttered open, her face flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Cum with me, Y/N, I want to feel you cum inside me. Fill. Me. Up."

You gripped the sheets tightly, your thrusts growing more erratic, your cock pulsating inside her.

"Oh God, Giselle– I'm gonna cum~!" you shouted, your cock twitching, the tip of your cock pulsating inside her, spurts of hot, thick cum flooding her insides, your body trembling. Giselle screamed as she orgasmed, her pussy clamping down onto your shaft. She shuddered and gasped.

You collapsed on top of her, chest heaving, a mixture of sweat and lust coating your bodies. "Fuck– Giselle– I– I–" you struggled, pressing a kiss to her lips, spent.

She's panting, her chest rising and falling. "That was... unexpected... We should uhm... do more of that... maybe not tonight, but we definitely should..." Giselle says, her hand tracing your back, her fingertips gentle, her eyes filled with a newfound appreciation for you.

You smile, gazing at her, "I agree, I came so hard... But I'm glad I could... surprise you, Giselle."

Her smile is small, tender, her eyes soft and forgiving. "Yeah..."

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[liesonmytongues]

Hornet Hybrids x FTM reader pt. 2

Summary- What's next after you're kidnapped by a hornet colony, made into their king, and successfully save them from dying out? Repopulation, of course.

Warnings- Trans male reader, obviously, reader's genitals are referred to by 'dick, cock, cunt, hole', mildly possessive hornet people, yandere if you squint, cunnilingus, p in v, breeding, worship (receiving), somewhat rough sex, weird genitalia, monster fucking, let me know if I missed anything

Word count- 2,500

A/N- I wanted this to be realistic in terms of how the hornets looked? For some reason? I don't even wanna talk about how many times I looked up 'bee penis', but they're fucking weird looking. Also, if you want a visual on what I think the hybrids look like, check out the ants from the webcomic 'Hiveheart'. Like that, but with wings and lower back abdomens w/stingers.

It was the next thing to do once the hive was sanitized and rebuilt (and dead workers were removed, and the few remaining larvae were disposed of to prevent another breakout, and comb was re-waxed, and your attendants dispersed your scent through the hive…)–you needed to breed.

It started with some chatter, whispers of excitement at the prospect of new eggs to care for–the strength the new king would bring to the hive, the expectation that numbers would soar–but grew into something very real very quickly.

Workers in charge of the nurseries had been idle for nearly a month with no young to coddle–their clicks and buzzes of discontentment were making everyone stir-crazy, and it was clear as your job as king that you needed to fix things.

Really, with the help and support of your courtiers, all that boiled down to was the actual act of being bred.

Fairly simple compared to everything else you’ve had to do, and with the added bonus of being pampered extensively–an abundance of fatty meals, fruits, nectar, honeydew, and meats laid before you daily; warm baths, soft, soft linens and bedding they stole just for you–the prospect became less another task, and more like just another way your girls could bring you pleasure.

It took weeks to find drones that your attendants approved of–they had to be strong, healthy, introduced to your scent and monitored in temperament. They had to be sanitized in and out, inspected in every possible aspect–plenty embarassing when you were asked for your dick preferences–scrutinized on every flaw.

They were to be worthy of you. They were perfect. They were…a lot larger than you expected.

Your largest subjects, your soldiers, were already massive by any human standards–most of them 7 feet tall, some bigger, with broad, bulky bodies and thick chitin you honestly weren’t sure a gun could get through.

These boys are bigger. Not as hard, not as rough, and lacking the stinger that had you nearly pissing yourself the first time you saw it–but Jesus Christ that is a big insect.

You did your best to keep your composure when they were brought before you in your chambers–you are a king after all–but your girls still noticed the change in your scent. In an instant you were flanked by attendants clacking their mandibles together in worry, petting any skin they could reach in an attempt to calm you down.

“It’s alright my King, they would never cause any harm. They were made for this–for you. They live to give you pleasure.” One wasp comforts, nuzzling you softly and beckoning a drone closer.

The one closest to you–with near-black armor accentuating his sheer size–practically scrambles to your feet, kneeling until his forehead touches the floor in a show of complete reverence. Not quite submission, but worship.

“You are…beautiful, my King.” The drone rumbled, his antennae twitching as he took in your scent up close–followed by a full-body shudder that had his fists clenching and your dick twitch in interest. God, they have that much of a reaction to just…smelling you? What an ego boost…

“Please, allow me the honor of mating with you.” He just barely lifts his head up to see your reaction, and out of the corner of your eye you can tell the rest of the drones are equally as interested–their cocks starting to peek out of slits in their chitin while guards keep a watch, making sure they don’t get too rowdy in their excitement.

“...Alright.” Your voice comes out more hesitant than you would have liked, but you correct it before your attendants can worry, “Ok. I want you to…mate with me.”

Half of you expects him just to pounce as soon as the words leave your mouth, something rushed and aggressive, but you should’ve known better–should’ve anticipated the way he crawls over to your makeshift nest while his wings twitch until he’s close enough to nuzzle your calves.

You can see his own cock–practically clear, looking half like an inflated balloon, with claspers on either side and a large bulb sitting as his tip–more clearly now that he isn’t practically molded to the floor, The drone’s movements are slow, spreading his mandibles so he can freely kiss up your legs to the soft skin of your inner thighs, and god you just want to pull him closer–make him get to it already, make him-

You didn’t even realize your hands were in his hair until he shuddered, clenching the blankets and dipping his head. This is a good opportunity to…

“I apologize my lord, I’m sorr-” He’s really only a couple inches away, so despite how fucking big he is, it doesn’t take much real effort to tilt his face up against your cunt where your dick is throbbing for attention.

Maybe your couriers slipped you something to make this easier, maybe it really does just turn you on this much seeing someone reverently kneeling before you, but when your hornet pulls his head up a bit to look at you, strands of slick come with him.

Fuck.

He looks confused for half a second, but it’s quickly overshadowed when he takes another breath, mouth dropping open far enough to see the adductor muscle peeking out of the corner of his cheek, and shoves his face back down with a guttural moan.

There’s absolutely no skill or tact, the attendants next to you buzzing uncomfortably at the sudden ferver, but the sheer size of his mouth means that each desperate lick and suck easily drags over every inch you need it to.

And god he’s almost pulsing, everything in him clearly trying not to thrust his hips against the ground, to focus on lapping at your dripping cunt like a man starved.

Your dick throbs against your partner’s lips, drawing a moan from both of you. He takes the way your legs relax as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside, stretching your walls for his cock whether or not he realizes that's what he’s doing.

Probably not. You don’t know much about queen hornet anatomy, but you doubt they need to be stretched like you do, size difference and all.

“Please my Lord- I don’t want to waste my seed- allow me, please...” He doesn't even bother with pulling away far enough to be fully coherent, rumbling and nipping at your thighs with his pincers, leaving marks that could pass as hickeys to anyone else.

And with the eager buzzing from all around you, how could you say no? Not that you would anyway, which is…mildly embarrassing.

“Yeah- hah -yeah, please. I wanna,” the sentence is broken up by attempts at getting air into your lungs “I want you inside.” His slow pull away from your cock, the wet pop of his tongue sliding out of your cunt, is teasing in the worst way possible. You have half a mind to command him back down-

The view makes you stop. Aren't wasps cold blooded? How can he flush like that? Are the first things that come to mind. Or, more accurately, the only things that come to mind, as the sight of slick and spit webbing, soaking his face and dripping down his neck causes you to draw a blank.

He sits back on his knees for a moment, heaving gulps of air, digging his nails between the armored segments of his legs while he just…stares. Takes in the view, or whatever it could be called with his eyes so glossed and clearly out of it.

One of the other drones mumbles something along the lines of ‘if he won't do it, I will’ to his companions, but the slight shuffle you do to look over at them snaps the cause of your blocked view out of his odd trance.

He's still gentle when he crawls over your body, pushing his face into your throat even as his back is forced to arch just to bring his hips closer–anything, anything to be as close as possible.

“May I-”

“I already said yes-!” Your voice lilts up when he pushes forward, the tip of his cock slipping against the slick and spit coating your cunt, knocking into your cock a couple of times before he manages to push forward-

And shit, is it even gonna fit? You saw it, you already knew it was, y'know, proportional, but fuck, actually feeling him try to push past the ring of your cunt is quickly making you question if this was a good idea.

But then he shifts, shuffles his hard thighs under your back and raises your hips up into his lap, and you feel his cock…shift? Almost like it's making itself fit.

Er…maybe not almost. You give the best attempt at looking between your bodies as you can manage with him pressed so close, and suddenly the whole balloon analogy seems fitting. He is shifting to make it fit, the seemingly inflated sides of his shaft condensing to push inside before they expand again.

It makes you want to moan and cringe in equal parts–the near painless way he pushes at your walls mixing with the weird body horror of seeing his dick act like a fucking water wiggler–but hey, you're having sex with giant bees, so…

“Jesus-” You grunt as a couple more inches slide in painstakingly slow, your drone’s attempt at letting your body adjust allowing you to feel everything. Every dip and abnormality, every press, every slip against the parts of your cunt that makes your toes curl unconsciously–it only takes a minute before he's bottomed out as far as he can go.

Soft tip(s?) unable to move any further, you can almost feel the way he leaks inside you, strands of his own obvious arousal sticking, stretching, snapping as he pulls back just as slowly until just the head stays spreading you open.

“Oh, god…” A deeper sound escapes his throat, mandibles clicking in a way you don't totally understand yet while he takes in the sight of slick–your slick, his Lord, his King, blessing him–drenching, dripping down his shaft, collecting where his balls would be before plopping to the floor.

“Can't believe I'm really…oh my Lord, I've waited so long for this, so long–I’ll fill you, I promise- I’ll-” Is something…wrong? Is what you were going to ask- had the air not been suddenly knocked from your lungs in a startled moan, his hips audibly slapping against your soft things hard enough to make them jiggle under the force.

It might have been easy to forget just how strong these things are–only holding back for the sake of your ‘frail, human body’ as you'd once been described. You suppose any human would be frail to them.

“Control yourself!” One of your attendants barks, attempting to separate the drone's upper body from yours even while he latches his arms around your head, the only sign that he heard her at all being how his thrusts smooth themselves out, keeping just enough of his throbbing shaft outside your body that he doesn't barrel directly into your cervix.

It might be the best sex you've ever had.

Your girls get more anxious the more fucked out you look, bearing their stingers at the man above you in a threat while you attempt to wave them off. Not exactly the easiest thing, what with your whole body caged in and the desire to move in the next couple days quickly draining out of you.

“‘s fi-ine.” Very convincing.

“But he's-! He's being too rough!”

“Don't argue!” A second attendant hisses quietly at the first. “The King knows what he can handle- don't insinuate his weakness!”

Despite her words, she doesn't completely put her stinger away, only moving back enough to glare disapprovingly at the drone. The way they talk about him like he's not there would've been funny in any other context–the obvious difference in hierarchy not even attempted to be masked–but with your brain currently melting out of your cunt, it's a little hard to think at all.

Your partner barely even seems to notice–too caught up in breeding your hole just as good as he promised to spare any attention at someone other than his beloved King. He's huffing against your neck, interspersed with desperate moans that you swear you can feel vibrate down his mandibles.

The gentleness is almost completely gone–still considerate, still conscious of his size, of giving you pleasure, but not…willful. Whatever instinct is filling him now can't be pulled away from the slickness of your hole long enough to so much as properly breathe.

Which is why when a hand smoothly caresses up your thigh, dipping between your legs and rubbing at your aching cock in practiced strokes, you're a little confused.

“Does that feel alright, my King?” A smooth, much more feminine voice than you expected to hear breathes right next to your head, making you whip towards the cause on instinct.

“Can you feel him? Can you tell how close you are to repopulating us?” The sharp features of yet another aide are suddenly only a matter of inches away from you, smiling as she works you towards your orgasm.

Your drone lifts his head up in a hurry at that, finally speaking up outside of dog-like panting. “Yes, I'll give you su-ch strong young, let me show you, I'll show you, I'll show you.” The desperation in his voice and the erratic pace makes you clench, gushing around his cock in a way that would be embarrassing if you could gather the thoughts.

You hadn't even spoken properly in the past 5– 10? –minutes, but you clearly don't need to. The tightening around his cock was plenty for your drone to buck uncontrollably into your poor cunt, thrusts stuttering as he tries with the last strands of willpower to make you cum before him.

Luckily your attendant understands, speeding up the flicks of her wrist until your body finally, finally relents to the pleasure–stomach tightening and cunt fluttering around your partner's cock.

You aren't sure if you've ever cum that hard before–with your legs shaking and your brain foggy and hips jerking with the aftershocks like your body wants to prolong it just a little more–and only a moment later are you being pumped full, your lover's cock distending before contracting again, just like it had done earlier to fit inside you.

The deep, guttural, desperate sound he makes could've had you cumming again, clenching a second time and milking his already overstimulated cock. Between already being close just from eating you out and the near-vicious pace he'd held, it's a miracle he lasted as long as he did–holding on just to give you the pleasure his King deserves.

At least, that's what he thinks while he flops his head onto your shoulder again, mandibles softly nipping the skin and nuzzling affectionately.

When you look over his massive expanse of a back, the other drones are buzzing–you snort a laugh at your own pun–with anticipation, stroking their own cocks while they wait. A couple tease themselves, the others treat their bodies roughly, squeezing at the sides until the clear sacs bulge part either side.

Well…time for round 2 apparently.

[skzstarl0ver]

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐤

Han Jisung x reader / Secret Relationship / co-workers / smut / one shot

**involves!!** Public teasing, handjob, explicit sexual content, risky, inappropriate touch, tentsion, cursing, dirty talk

enjoy xx (request open)

★.•☆•.★★.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★ skzstarl0ver ★⡀.•☆•.★⡀.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★

[ POV: YOU ]

It starts with a look.

Jisung’s sitting across the long conference table, pen spinning between his fingers, legs spread in that obnoxiously casual way that only he can make sexy. His hair is pushed back, tie loosened just enough to break office protocol—and your focus.

His eyes flick up, and the moment they meet yours, he smirks. That infuriating, knowing, cocky little smirk.

You narrow your eyes.

The meeting’s been dragging for over an hour. A late-night strategy session, half the team glassy-eyed and guzzling coffee while your manager drones on about deadlines.

You’re trying to listen, really. But Jisung? He’s not helping.

Your phone buzzes on the table. A message from him.

Jisung [10:06 PM]: Dare you to rest your hand on my lap. Under the table. 😇

You glance up sharply, heart skipping. He’s staring at his screen like he didn’t just send a declaration of war.

Your fingers hover over your phone.

You [10:06 PM]: You’re insane. Jisung: Scared?

The nerve.

You wait. Ten seconds. Twenty.

Then, when no one’s looking, you slowly slide your hand off your lap… and beneath the table.

At first, you rest it on his knee. Nothing bold. Just pressure.

But his reaction is instant.

His leg tenses. You hear the tiniest breath hitch. Then he shifts in his chair, ever so slightly, spreading his thighs wider like an invitation.

You accept.

Your hand slides higher. His slacks are warm beneath your palm, his thigh solid and twitching under your touch. You keep your face neutral, pretending to scroll through the presentation slides—while your fingers climb, slow and steady, until you find him.

Hard. Already.

You fight a grin. He’s always so easy to rile up.

Your fingers trace the outline of him through his pants, gentle at first, just teasing. You feel him twitch under your touch, and when you risk a glance up—you’re met with fire.

Jisung is struggling.

He’s staring directly at you now. His eyes are dark, jaw tight. But to anyone else? He looks normal. Calm. Maybe even bored. Only you can see the subtle way he grips the table. The way his lips part just slightly as you squeeze him—firmer now.

He looks like he wants to kill you.

Or kiss you.

You lean forward slightly, hand working slower now, drawing circles with your thumb against the outline of his cock. You feel him pulse beneath the fabric.

His hand comes under the table—he grabs your wrist.

At first you think he’s going to stop you.

But he doesn’t.

He guides you. Adjusts your grip. Tightens your hand around him.

And then he lets go.

You almost laugh. But instead, you keep going.

Your strokes are deliberate now, fluid and firm. You can feel his body trembling under your hand, his thighs flexing with restraint. You’re careful with your movements, making sure it’s subtle enough that no one notices—though you're half certain the guy next to him is too deep in his spreadsheet to care if Jisung exploded beside him.

Then the manager calls on him.

“Jisung—thoughts?”

You freeze. But your hand doesn’t leave his lap.

He clears his throat.

“I—uh… yeah. I think those adjustments work. M-makes sense.”

His voice is tight, frayed at the edges. And you can’t help it—you brush your thumb over the head of his cock again, and his breath catches.

You swear his hand fists under the table.

You feel him growing harder. Leaking. Throbbing. You know he’s close.

But you don’t stop.

His thighs are tensing rhythmically now, his abs pulling tight with every stroke. His hand curls into a fist against the leg of the table and stays there.

You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Doing okay?”

His glare could set you on fire.

[ POV SWITCH — JISUNG ]

You're going to be the death of him.

You—sitting across from him like you’re not currently jerking him off in a conference room full of coworkers. Like you’re just taking notes. Like you don’t have your hand wrapped around his cock right now, stroking him slow, squeezing the base, brushing over the tip like you know exactly how to ruin him.

Because you do.

And he’s barely holding it together.

He wants to fuck you against this goddamn table.

Instead, he’s gripping the edge of it like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to Earth.

Your touch is maddening. Soft and firm in all the right places, your thumb rubbing circles over his tip through his pants until he’s about to come undone.

He’s aching. His cock is painfully hard, trapped behind slacks that weren’t meant for this kind of torture. He can feel how soaked his boxers are already—how close he is. And the worst part?

He can’t make a sound.

He has to sit here. Face blank. Voice steady. While you play with him under the desk like it’s a goddamn game.

He wants to growl your name. Wants to grab your wrist and pin you against the wall and ask if you really thought you could get away with this.

But then he looks at you.

You’re not even looking at him.

You're pretending like you're still reading the meeting slides—like you’re not jerking him off with the kind of skill that makes him question every single life choice that brought him here.

It’s unfair.

His breath is coming faster now. He can feel his orgasm building—tight and fast and unstoppable. He presses his thighs together, trying to fight it off.

But you stroke him just right. And it hits.

He comes with a silent gasp, biting his tongue so hard it might bleed. His thighs shake. His hand slams onto the table hard enough to make the intern next to him jump.

“Y—you alright?” the guy asks.

“Yeah,” Jisung croaks. “Just dropped my pen.”

Liar.

He rides it out in silence, thighs trembling, sweat dotting his temple. He can feel the mess in his boxers. The shame. The desperate need to kiss you until you forget your own name.

When the meeting ends and everyone starts to leave, you walk past him like nothing happened.

But you lean in close—just enough for him to hear:

“Meet me in the supply closet. Five minutes.”

He nearly moans.