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bupia · 6 months

Note

prompts 39, 45, and 3 w/ copia🤭 <3 tysm ily

MIRROR SEX

"I'll take care of you." "Will you let me be your first?" "Is this okay?"

There's a smut under the cut, +18 only, please.

(AFAB!Reader: Copia is a VAMPIRE on this one; mentions of blood; blood drinking; dirty talk; Italian swearing; fingering; unprotected sex; breeding)

Available on AO3

Day 19 | Day 21

Today, it fell upon your shoulders to undertake the responsibility of tidying up Cardinal Copia's quarters. While not the most glamorous task within the Ministry, it was a duty that inevitably needed to be fulfilled, and today, you were the chosen one.

Armed with a bucket and a mop, you ventured towards his quarters, entrusted with these humble tools, a key, and a rather peculiar gaze from the fellow siblings.

You approached the door to Cardinal Copia's quarters, taking a deep breath before inserting the key and turning the lock. The door creaked open, revealing a room with dim lighting and ornate, strange decor. It was a space that reflected the Cardinal's unique taste.

You stepped inside, glancing around at the antique furniture and a dark tapestries adorning the walls, with a silly poster of a cat beside it. The room was a bit cluttered, and dust had settled on various surfaces. You couldn't help but wonder how long this room haven't been cleaned.

With determination, you placed the bucket and mop in the corner and began the task of cleaning. As you moved about the room, dusting and mopping, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched. It was an eerie sensation, as if the very walls had eyes. But you brushed it off as mere paranoia and continued with your work.

"Are you the one they sent today?" Cardinal Copia's voice echoed in your ears.

Startled, you spun around, frantically scanning the room from side to side in search of the source of the unexpected voice. You had assumed you would be alone in this task.

"Cardinal, you surprised me," you said, trying to regain your composure. "Yes, I was sent to clean your quarters today."

You responded to him, though uncertainty lingered about the origin of his voice. You continued to search, your eyes darting around the dimly lit room, which offered enough obscurity for someone to conceal themselves in the shadowy corners. As you scanned the room, your eyes eventually landed on a figure emerging from one of the dimly lit corners. It was indeed Cardinal Copia, dressed in his signature ecclesiastical red attire.

"Don't let me stop you. Carry on with your duties."

"Cardinal Copia," you greeted him with a respectful nod, your heart still racing from the initial surprise. "I apologize for not noticing your presence earlier. I was just beginning to clean."

He smiled faintly and approached you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "No need to apologize, topino. I enjoy a bit of mystery and intrigue now and then."

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at his words, and you wondered what exactly he meant by "mystery and intrigue."

"I'll do my best to be thorough with my cleaning," you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

Copia watched you for a moment before retreating to a nearby chair, seemingly content to observe your work. You continued your cleaning duties, feeling his eyes on you as you moved about the room.

The way Cardinal Copia's gaze bore into you began to make you feel a tad uneasy. While there was a certain allure in having the Cardinal's attention directed your way, it was also an unusual occurrence to see him outside of his quarters, and his intense scrutiny was beginning to grate on your nerves.

"Cardinal," you spoke, turning to squarely face him. "Is there something you require?"

"Me?"

"Yes," you continued, resting the mop within the bucket. "You've been fixated on me, and I couldn't help but wonder if you had something to say or needed assistance with something."

"Sometimes, I find that watching is just as pleasurable as partaking," he said, his voice low and sultry.

Your cheeks flushed as you considered his implications. The room felt charged with an electric tension, and you realized that the Cardinal was making no effort to hide his desires.

"I see," you replied, your voice quivering slightly. "I'll continue with my cleaning, then."

You returned to your duties, more aware than ever of his watchful eyes on you, as you tried to maintain your composure in the face of his audacious advances. Suddenly, you felt Cardinal Copia's arm enveloping you from behind, drawing you tightly against his chest. You froze in place, his grasp unyielding. He inhaled deeply as he positioned his face near your neck, his arm securing you firmly. His nose brushed against your skin, then his lips, and something sharp made contact, followed by the gentle caress of his tongue.

"Do you know why they sent you here today?" he asked.

"N-No..." you stammered.

"Because your Cardinal is hungry," he whispered seductively into your ear. "But don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"I-I... I should finish my cleaning," you stammered, your voice quivering, even as you made no attempt to break free from his grasp.

"Don't worry about it, someone will clean up after I'm finished with you," he whispered, his tone laced with mischief.

Your heart raced as he whispered those words into your ear, and you could feel the sharp sensation grazing your skin again. Despite the fear that coursed through you, there was an undeniable allure to the dangerous situation, as if Cardinal Copia's dark desires had awakened something within you. Your breaths quickened, and your body responded to his closeness in ways you hadn't expected. A mixture of fear and curiosity flooding your senses. You knew this was wrong, but a part of you couldn't deny the thrilling attraction to the forbidden. Your body felt trapped in the web of desire and danger that Cardinal Copia had spun around you.

He tightened his grip on you, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. The sharpness grazed your neck once again, and he inhaled deeply, savoring your scent. You couldn't help but tremble, caught between the urge to escape and the inexplicable pull of his presence.

"Excuse me," he whispered.

And then, you felt it, the sharp yearning at your neck, and the realization dawned on you; Cardinal Copia was a vampire.

The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as his fangs grazed your skin. You couldn't help but shiver as he leaned in, his breath hot against your neck, his lips parting. As his fangs pierced your skin, a mixture of pain and pleasure shot through your body. Your hands clung to his arms, and you let out a soft, involuntary moan. Cardinal Copia's lips locked onto your neck, his tongue flicking over the wound, lapping up your blood. It was an intense, intimate act, and you found yourself torn between the fear of the unknown and the strange allure of his touch.

His hold on your waist gradually slackened as he withdrew from your neck. Cardinal Copia's tongue flicked across the bite mark, and his hands settled on the sides of your body. He kissed the mark, sending shivers coursing through you, and you whimpered softly. His hands explored your form, caressing every contour as if he were savoring your essence, worshipping your body. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, his face pressed against your neck, his tongue licking you again, prompting another soft whimper. He repeated the act, as if waiting or testing your reaction, and you couldn't help but moan softly.

"You have an exquisite taste," he whispered. "Your body radiates warmth, teeming with life... Your scent is intoxicating, your heat is driving me wild," he continued to murmur, his hands continuing their journey across your body. "And I can feel it, especially between your legs. What a sinful delight."

"Cardinal, please," you whispered, torn between the need to push him away and the overwhelming desire that made you want to pull him closer.

"Have you ever been touched, topino?" Cardinal Copia inquired, his voice a sultry whisper.

"N-No..." you confessed, your voice quivering with anticipation.

Your breaths quickened, and you couldn't help but respond to his caresses. When his fingers traced down to between your legs, you gasped, your body trembling with longing.

"Can I touch you here?" he asked.

"Yes... Please..." you breathed, your desire palpable in your response.

You moaned softly as he began to explore your heat above your underwear. Your body writhed with pleasure, and you clung to him, lost in the whirlwind of sensations he was unleashing. His fingers danced skillfully, igniting every nerve ending. Your moans grew louder, and your desire intensified with each passing second.

"Is this okay?" Cardinal Copia inquired, seeking your consent as he continued.

"Cardinal... Oh, Cardinal," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "Yes... Yes..."

"Look at you," he murmured. "Look at yourself in the mirror."

Your eyes turned to the mirror in front of you, revealing only your reflection. Cardinal Copia had no reflection, and you saw yourself with a visage of pleasure etched across your face. As you gazed at your reflection, you turned your eyes to see him standing behind you, a wide grin on his face. He slid his fingers inside your underwear, causing you to gasp, and you obediently shifted your gaze back to the mirror as he had instructed.

"Molto bene," he praised you.

You remained transfixed by your reflection, watching as Cardinal Copia continued to pleasure you, his fingers expertly exploring your wetness. The sight of your own face, twisted with ecstasy in the mirror, only intensified your arousal.

"Cardinal," you moaned, "Please, don't stop..."

"I won't," he promised, "Not until you are satisfied."

His words sending a shiver coursing through your body. You whimpered, your hips moving in rhythm with his hand's ministrations. A mischievous chuckle escaped his lips, his fingers never ceasing their tantalizing dance. You continued to whimper, your hips moving restlessly against his skillful touch.

"Oh, Cardinal..." you groaned, your eyes fixed on the mirror.

His fingers quickened their pace, and your breaths came in rapid gasps. Lost in the overwhelming sensation, your body writhed as his skilled fingers caressed your clit. You hissed and bent forward, pressing your hands against the walls on either side of the mirror. With his other hand, Cardinal Copia lifted your habit, reaching down to pull your underwear down to your knees. His fingers then found their way to your entrance, teasing and circling it.

You couldn't help but look back at him above your shoulder, his eyes fixed on your reflection with a devilish glint. Your body felt hot and needy as his fingers continued their tantalizing dance. Your hands gripped the mirror's edges, your knuckles turning white with the pressure, as you tried to hold yourself up.

"Please... Inside..." you breathed.

Cardinal Copia didn't need further encouragement. His fingers slipped inside your aching core, and a wave of pleasure surged through your body. You moaned loudly, your legs trembling as he expertly pumped his fingers in and out of you. Every thrust seemed to send electric shocks of pleasure through your entire being, and you couldn't contain your desire.

"Yes, yes, Cardinal... Yes...!" you moaned softly.

Your reflection in the mirror was a vision of pure lust and ecstasy. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, your lips parted in a sultry moan, and your body writhed with unbridled passion. Cardinal Copia watched your reflection with rapt attention, a wicked grin playing on his lips

"Oh... Cardinal... That feels so good," you moaned.

"Does it now?" Cardinal Copia's voice was seductive and filled with amusement as he continued to pleasure you.

His fingers worked their magic inside you, and his thumb rubbed circles over your swollen clit, intensifying your arousal. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, increasing the tempo, and your body writhed in pleasure. Your breathing became erratic, and your moans grew louder. You couldn't take your eyes off your reflection in the mirror, where your lust-filled expression mirrored the intense sensations building within you.

"Cardinal... Oh, Satan..." you groaned. "Please, fuck me... fuck me...!"

"You want me to fuck you, topino?" he asked, his voice filled with desire. "Will you let me be your first?"

"Yes, please, I need you," you begged. "Please, just fuck me."

Cardinal Copia grinned with a look of satisfaction in the mirror. He pulled his fingers out of you and you whined in frustration. He chuckled at your reaction, stepping back for a moment to undo his pants. Then, he pressed himself against your wet folds, his hardness throbbing as it met your hot, waiting entrance.

"Are you sure?" he teased.

"Yes," you whispered softly.

You spread your legs a little further, arching your back, pushing your hips against him, grinding yourself against his length. He teased you with the tip of his length against your folds before finally thrusting into you, filling you completely.

"Ah!" you exclaimed, feeling a bit of discomfort as you adjusted to him inside you.

"Can I move?" Cardinal Copia inquired.

"Yes," you whispered, giving him permission to continue.

Cardinal Copia held onto your hips as he began to move inside you. His thrusts were slowly, but powerful and rhythmic, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned and whimpered, your body responding to his every move.

"Cazzo!" he exclaimed. "I've just discovered something even more enticing than your blood." He lowered his body on top of yours. "What a delectably tight pussy you have."

"Ah... Ah! Cardinal... Yes..." you purred, lost in the feeling of the moment.

He held you firmly, his hot breath caressing your neck as his thrusts grew more intense. Gasps and moans filled the room as his length plunged deeply into you with each motion. Your arousal had made you slick, allowing him to glide effortlessly inside you.

"Merda, how can a pussy be that good?" Cardinal Copia questioned, his voice strained with desire. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he continued to thrust deeply.

As Cardinal Copia's words of praise washed over you, your body quivered with delight. You clung to him, feeling your pleasure build with every relentless thrust. Your walls tightened around his length as he thrust his member in and out of you with long, deep strokes.

"How can your pussy be that tight and wet?" he mused, his breath hot against your neck. His hips moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust making you gasp.

He continued to move within you, his thrusts unyielding, and the ecstasy he was driving you toward grew more intense with every passing moment. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, mingling with his own fervent groans.

"Is this because of me, topino?" he inquired, his voice husky.

"Yes... yes, yes, yes, yes!" you gasped in response, your body arching in pleasure, meeting his every thrust with fervor.

You straightened up your body, your back pressed against him, and you began to meet each of his thrusts with one of your own. The incredible sensations overwhelmed you, and you surrendered completely to the passionate rhythm, savoring the feeling of his length penetrating you. Each stroke brought you both closer to the edge, and you could sense him growing even harder inside you with every movement. Your walls clenched tightly around him, intensifying the pleasure for both of you.

"Cardi...Ah!" you whispered. "You're so big! It feels so good!"

His lips descended to your neck, kissing you with fervor as he devoured your skin hungrily. His hot breath on your neck sent delicious shivers through your body, intensifying the pleasure. His hands shifted from your hips to your thighs, gripping them firmly, causing you to clench around him once again.

"Giuro su Satana... Your pussy feels even better than your blood," he moaned in your ear. "Satana blessed you with this, and gifted me with you today." His words dripped with desire and reverence for the moment.

He pounded into you relentlessly, the intensity of his thrusts driving you both closer to the edge. Your bodies moved in perfect unison, a symphony of passion that echoed through the room. His moans filled your ears, spurring you on even more.

"Mmm... Cardinal..." you moaned, your voice laced with lust. "Fuck me... Fuck me hard!"

Cardinal Copia eagerly complied, his thrusts becoming faster and more forceful. You responded by pushing back against him, your breathless moans filling the room. Your gaze remained locked on the mirror, where you could see the pleasure etched across your face, your body undulating with each passionate encounter. You yearned to witness his reflection too, to see your bodies entwined as his movements grew more urgent, the rhythmic sound of your bodies meeting echoing throughout the room.

"Yes, Cardinal... Oh Satan, yes!" you cried out in ecstasy. "You're going to make me cum... I'm going to cum..." The intense pleasure building within you was reaching its peak, and you could hardly contain yourself.

Your moans grew louder and more urgent as Cardinal Copia's relentless thrusts pushed you to the brink of ecstasy. The pleasure surged through your body, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to tumble into the abyss of release. His hands tightened on your hips, guiding your movements to match his rhythm as he relentlessly drove into you, each stroke sending you closer to the climax you so desperately craved.

"I'm going to make you cum now, sì?" he said. "And when you do, I want you to look into the mirror."

Your heart raced in anticipation as his hand reached down to your clit, his fingers working it fervently while he continued to pound into you with unrestrained abandon. The combined sensations of his thrusts and his skillful touch sent you hurtling toward a powerful climax. He grunted, and suddenly you felt his length throbbing inside you.

"I- Cazzo! I'm going to cum," he growled, relinquishing your clit and concentrating solely on thrusting into you.

He gripped your hips tightly as his own orgasm overtook him, filling you with his hot release. The pulsating waves of pleasure from his climax and the rhythmic movements of his fingers against your clit sent you into a mind-shattering orgasm. Your vision blurred, and your body convulsed with ecstasy. You both moaned in unison as you rode out the waves of pleasure together.

Copia's hand gently cupped your chin, guiding your gaze to the mirror. You watched your entire body tremble with pleasure, your face a picture of ecstasy, until the sensation reached its climax, leaving you feeling utterly relaxed and weak in the knees. Copia held you securely in his arms, gradually lowering you to a more comfortable position, his gentle hand soothing your flushed face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a concerned tone in his voice.

You nodded and managed a smile, meeting his soft gaze as he looked at you with tenderness, his concern reflecting in his eyes. Gently, he lifted you up and carried you to his bed, laying you down there and sitting beside you.

"Mi dispiace, I guess I was a little too rough and drank a certain amount of your blood," he expressed with remorse.

"T-That's... Okay," you replied weakly.

He offered a gentle smile. "Rest now."

You nodded and closed your eyes slowly, taking deep breaths to regain your strength.

"I'll be here when you wake up," he whispered softly, his presence a comforting reassurance as you drifted into a well-deserved slumber.

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sparklingsora · 2 months

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Hi. I would like to know many things about your roleswap au bc I love it very much but I have no idea what to ask I just want to know many things bc my brain has been consumed already

uhhhhh I guess can you lore dump a little bit on backstories? Idk I just wanna know everything about this au

I will be back in your ask box for this au several times most likely

-Spaghetti Brain Anon

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!! i am SO glad that i could get this au to live in someone else's brain rent free too. all i could ever ask for in life tbh i guess i'll infodump about character backstories, dynamics, character arcs, all that juicy stuff putting it under cut because HO BOY THIS IS GONNA GET LONG

as a heads up, take the timeframes i give you with a grain of salt, because i still havent completely figured out the timeline so first of all, vox!! he's a sinner, died in the 1950s, as per canon. he's a businessman, but less stable than in canon. he's always jumping from job to job, business to business, which results in him having a lot of connections with various people around hell. soon after arriving in hell, he met and became friends with alastor. cut to, i'd say around 7-10 years before the events of the story? alastor disappears without a trace during an extermination and vox assumes him dead. having now been personally touched by the effects of the extermination, the idea to try and solve overpopulation another way is planted in his head, but wont come to fruition until much later. in the meantime he meets velvette - finds her bleeding out in an alleyway after getting too cocky and trying to fight back to an exorcist (bad idea). he nurses her back to health, they become friends and eventually start dating, yada yada yada. one day vox and velvette find a funky little cat (keekee). keekee takes a liking to them and leads them to the old ruins of a building up on the hill on the edge of pentagram city. they figure out that the cat turns into a keyblade that can be used to magically build shit (only the hotel though, as keekee is the spirit of the hotel or??? whatever the hell the canon lore is idk???) vox finally decides to realize his idea to try and solve overpopulation more humanely - through redeeming sinners! his reasoning is, if angels can fall (as proven by lute and charlie), then demons can surely ascend, right? though he's not as sure or idealistic about it as charlie is in canon. he simply thinks it has a chance of working, and opening up a hotel means a bigger sample size than if he were to just try and get into heaven himself or something like that. besides, he wouldnt wanna go to heaven, he likes it here. also, im not sure where this is situated in the timeline yet, but he was in a band with adam, lute and possibly eve at some point? the band is called brimstone eden, as mentioned in the comic i posted. im not sure yet whether he was in the band prior to eve's disappearance or after it (eve disappears 7 years before the story starts to mirror canon lilith). swap!vox, like his canon counterpart, is a very reactive person. he follows trends, he's extremely go-with-the-flow to a fault. he never really had any strong beliefs until the hotel - his character arc mainly involves him gaining something to believe in and learning to fight for that belief, 'ready for this' being more or less the culmination of his arc. jesus christ i cant believe i wrote that much JUST on vox. *slaps the top of his head* this boy can fit so much lore in him

now, velvette... she's how you'd expect her to be. same old brave, arrogant velvette. she's a fashion designer and seamstress and runs a moderately sized business which she promotes on sinstagram. she's mutuals with val there, which is how he finds out about the hotel. there's not much to write home about when it comes to val - it's insane how similar angel and him are. like literally barely anything changes when you swap them, it's very clean. he's a prn star, sold his soul to angel dust, yada yada. though a bit on his dynamic with vox - vox is very good at reading people, and doesn't like being lied to (he's a bit of a hypocrite in that regard - he puts on a facade all the time when in professional settings). he can clearly tell val isnt doing as good as he pretends he is, and wants to help him really badly, but val just sees it as vox pitying him and rejects his help (its what they fight about in ep 4, as a counterpart to the whole "charlie going to the studio" thing bc vox wouldnt do that) and now here's the fun part - ALASTOR! oh, alastor, you beautiful stuck up bitch! so turns out, he's not so dead after all! he ALMOST died in that fateful extermination, but husk found him and offered him a "give me your soul right now or bleed out in this alleyway" type deal. of course alastor chose the former, but boy he's not happy about it. he's extremely ashamed of how far he's fallen. so ashamed, in fact, that he hid from the world for those 7-10 years! yeah! he's only pulled out of hiding when husk summons him to be the bartender for the hotel. vox is of course, extremely bewildered and demands answers. alastor doesnt give them and avoids him instead. it takes a sincere conversation with valentino in ep 4 for alastor to finally talk to vox again and explain himself. alastor is basically in extremely deep denial of just how fucked his life is. he clings onto his radio demon persona like a lifeline bc its the last thing that can help him feel some semblance of control over his situation. his tension with valentino is twofold - first they butt heads because of opposing personalities, and second because they both see the other's bullshittery. it's a clusterfuck it eventually bubbles over in ep 4, they both admit how absolutely fucked they are and are friends now. wish i could say more on al & val bc i love them very much but it seems ive run out of eloquency for now. though i know i'll draw some comics of them eventually so maybe it'll come across better in comic form. anyway as mentioned above ive run out of eloquency and im honestly not sure how coherent this whole thing is so you'll have to come back for the other characters some other time, dear anon! until then, thank you so much for the ask once again, and have a nice day/night :)

#askbox #veeswap au

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norithepigeon · 1 year

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I’ve been really busy and unable to post much recently, but Nori and Kombu had their first eggs together and just finished sitting on them! (They were swapped with fakes, the eggs not hatching doesn’t bother pigeons).

More about their setup:

They live in a 48” x 30” x 32” dog crate with double doors, one on the end and one on the side. I hung an old sheet on the back to protect the wall from the birds.

On the left side they have two perches, both from Flat Perch. One is a corner perch while the other is a rectangle attached to the front door. Some various hanging toys with different shapes and textures, along with bells because they really enjoy these sorts of things. I plan to replace some of the older ones soon, I’d like to change them out every so often. They also have some cat toys on the floor, balls with bells in them. They have a mirror, since pigeons don’t have issues with mirrors this is a great option for them to get some brain stimulation as well as to help Nori divide his attention instead of completely focusing on wowing his lady all of the time, because he is very intense, in front of the mirror is a brick, if Nori is bow-cooing in the mirror he spins on the brick which helps him file his nails down so I have to cut them less often

I use a stainless steel dog bowl for their water since stainless steel pet bowls have been shown to harbor the least bacteria, between them and glass + plastic. The bowl is also big enough for them to sit in and bathe if they wish, which can be messy but I would like for them to have the option. For the food dish I use a flower pot saucer, although I would like to get a larger one to help prevent them from flinging seeds out of it more. They are good dishes for food, because they help wear down the beak tip! However they are porous so I would recommend cleaning them with vinegar every so often. They also have a cheap hanging plastic bird dish that I cut the perch part off of, these are intended for parrots but aren’t great because they don’t stay put anyway. I used a soldering iron to poke two holes in the plastic to zip-tie it into place and I just cut the zip-ties when I need to clean it. It doesn’t get dirty very quickly because all I put in it is grit.

On the right side of the cage is where they have their potential nesting spots, since it’s good to offer two. There is a cat hut on top, and a cat bed below. The cat hut is not machine washable which is why it has a towel inside, although I can vacuum it out with a brush attachment to agitate as much of the dust out of the fibers as possible. The bed below is partially machine washable, the cushion being the part that is. The PVC pipe structure used to have its own bed that attached to it properly, but due to that not being machine washable and having a white interior, I threw it out. The moon hanging down is apart of the original stuff the structure came with, as it is attached to the fabric that creates the top “platform.”

There are more toys on this side, some various bird toys including the well-loved seagrass one, as well as some beads I received at a pride festival that Nori seemed interested in. In front of the hut up top I would like to put a concrete perch with a rough underside, to help them file their nails more as well as make it slightly easier to jump from the perches into the nest. On the floor there is a tissue box in which I place strips of cut up cardboard tubes, which my birds like to use as nesting materials. I feel that this is a good way to recycle these otherwise “garbage” objects. In front of the tissue box I placed a brick to give them some leverage over the box, help file their nails, and help keep them from flipping the box.

I am always open to questions or ideas! Thanks for reading.

#pigeon #pigeons #pet pigeon #avian #bird #pet bird #cute

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elizabethplaid · 7 days

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Technically, I -AM- in bed!

Had a leisurely shower Friday afternoon, then spent the evening on the phone. Painted my nails a nice dusty blue; very flat and opaque, though still a glossy finish. (It doesn't shimmer like most make-up and nail polishes do. Just a solid color.)

My phone's already asleep for the night, so we've got a low-light, grainy webcam pic. This gray floppy bunny is not my usual snuggle partner, but it was exempt from the plaster dust awhile back. Just haven't gotten to cleaning up the stuffed animals since then. (Shake them out outside, brush their fur for the older ones.)

Mom and I got our floppy bunnies for easter sometime in the 1990s. Mine was white; hers was this gray one. It somewhat mirrored how my Gund Spanky bear is white (Since) and hers was brown (Gus). They're very floppy, with bean-pellets in the hindquarters but not in the limbs. I'm tempted to restuff at least one of 'em, sans pellets, to substitute for a body pillow.

Think I should look into how best to wash the loose polyester fluff. I've got Since's old stuffing still (planned to make a little stuffed heart with it later), and I suppose it could be reused if washed. There's human and pet dander on stuffed animals, along with whatever skin oils and drool might've seeped through the fabrics. (My old cat Gizmo used to nurse on Since when she was a kitten, back in the 1990s.) So I understand there's a health hazard; I certainly wouldn't stuff anything I intended to sell with this recycled stuffing. It's just... I don't wanna be wasteful if there's a somewhat simple solution.

My best guess would be to stick it in a zippered pillow case (which I have!) and then try to let it air dry, spread out on a table? For pellets, I will either sew pouches or use pantyhose material (those cheap trouser socks you can get, for less than $1 a pair) to help keep them from shifting within the plush body. I bet I could wash those with dawn dish soap and warm water, just by hand.

It takes me a long time before I get around to doing different projects. I may sound ambitious, but it's just the planning process. I have plenty of other projects to do before I get around to this. I mean, remember how long ago I washed Since? Like 2020ish? Yeah, still haven't actually brushed her fur, even though I bought a slicker brush specifically to use with plush. I also misplaced it, then kept forgetting. I mean... *gestures around* This is just me.

#daily notes #picture of me #plush #doll nerd #i already have 2 big floppy plush bunnies but the jellycat one is still a siren's call

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shadow-huntress · 2 years

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I think that everyone saw at least once scenario of a game, book, movie, etc. But I never saw anyone writing about how would they really act if they got into one of these if that would be them in reality. So I decide I will write it with the game Disney Twisted Wonderland.

First I wanna say two things:

first english isn't my first language so sorry for mistakes

second I will be writing from prologue and one post is one chapter or event, events will be done when I write chapters

There will be also ship's:

Ace x Deuce

Kalim x Jamil

Sebek x Silver

If someone is uncomfortable with them don't worry I will be writing them in different colour.

This one is prologue how I would act/do:

- freak out at first but when I realize where am I it will be just screaming and jumping

- Then run from Grim and his flame

- After Crowley will take me to mirror chamber I will curs on him in my native language (polish) and pray so he don't understand me

- if they would talk in other languages then polish or english I will be like „ What the hell" (￣￣|||)

At the mirror chamber

M(mirror) : [...] they are suited for no dormitory

Me thinking: No sh*t Sherlock, from where I am there isn't magic!

Let's skip where dorm leaders are trying to catch Grim.

- I would just be standing ther not knowing what to do + realized that it will be my life from now

- Won't tell anyone about game. At first at least

- I'm a scaredy cat and begin in the dark place, alone will exhaust me mentally so living with grim and ghosts is blessing

- Also curse on Ace when he will be making fun of me and Grim or trying not to cry depending what my mood would be

- Because I have dust allergy like my mom we need to vacuum twice a week and at our detention after destroying Queen of hearts I would not wait for Ace and just start cleaning because I prefer to do it quickly not to start sneezing

- As for Adeuc and Grim when we are at mine probably will try to tell them that this world is a game from where I am

- Of course they wouldn't believe me so I would tell them what will happen next

- And it happens

- Rest of prologue would be the same and no I'm not telling Crowley about their game world

And that's all for this post. I'm still new to this and I still don't know how exactly I want this to look so please if something could be done better inform any way you want but without hate. Next post will be chapter 1 with Heartslabyul.

#kalim x jamil #ace x deuce #sebek x silver #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst ace #twst #twst scenarios #twst deuce #twst grim #twst crowley

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reaperkiller · 2 years

Text

FINALLY. finally. redid the. well. everything. kind of fits into another prompt but also not really bc there’s not much tending to wounds. Maybe A Bit. Emotional Wounds Perhaps. It’s Fine.

_____

2am. Everything is still, silent. The world is asleep. Well, mostly.

A run-down motel, where the neon sign hums and flickers, where the doors don’t lock properly, where you could get railed, stabbed, or both, and no one would care. Most of the rooms are dark, bar one on the first floor. The dim light shines through a gap in the curtains, illuminating all sorts of dust and grime one would generally try to avoid wherever possible.

In the room, a chair is wedged under the door handle, just about solid enough to give the occupants a few seconds of warning if someone were to try and enter. Marcus is perched on the edge of the bed, which is arguably the cleanest part of the whole room. He’s covered in a few cuts and bruises, nothing major - it looks like he got into a fight with a rather unruly cat.

In the bathroom, Jason looms over the sink, white-knuckle gripping the sides. He stares at himself in the mirror, no discernable expression on his face. He’s covered in blood, eyes bruised, lip cut open, nose dripping. It’s hard to tell where the victims’ blood ends and his begins. He coughs and spits out some more blood - not too concerning. Worse things have happened.

Letting out a loud sigh, he turns on the tap, first cleaning his hands, then his face. He doesn’t scrub it all off. His face, his whole body, in fact, is still stained. He doesn’t care. Finally, he runs his hands through his hair, wetting it a little bit in an attempt to tame it somehow. It doesn’t work. He turns the tap off, and leaves the bathroom.

Before he can take another step, his legs buckle, causing him to crash into the door frame, and more blood to poor from his nose. Shit. Marcus seems to move at superhuman speed, launching himself across the room just in time to grab Jason before he completely tumbled. Or, well, he did the best he could. Jason is a skyscraper compared to him, supporting all his weight is a challenge. But he’s still running on adrenaline, and manages - just barely - to shift Jason over to the bed and sit him upright.

Neither of then had spoken in a while until this point, whether it be from exhaustion, or the fact that Marcus was beyond furious with Jason for nearly getting himself killed, it wasn’t quite clear. Surely one of the two. Finally, Marcus speaks up, gently wiping the blood from Jason’s nose.

“Why did you do it...?” His voice shakes, he’s trying his best to hide his anger, but it shines through regardless.

Jason won’t at him, his eyes darting around the room for something - anything - else to focus on. He says nothing.

“Please, Jason... Talk to me.” His voice is still just as shaky, if not more so. He caresses Jason’s cheek, gently gliding his thumb over a nasty looking bruise. “Please.”

A long silence. Jason finally leans in to Marcus’s hand, placing his own on top of his. Their eyes meet, if only for a fraction of a second. “Didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I could have handled them! I could’ve-.”

Jason lets out an attempt at a laugh, but it’s more of a wheeze, which then turns into a sharp breath as he winces. “I wasn’t about to let you die. Not on my fuckin’ watch.” Their eyes are locked on each other. Marcus starts to tear up.

“But you didn’t have to-.”

“Said I wasn’t gonna let anyone lay a hand on you, didn’t I?”

Marcus nods.

“I don’t break my promises. Ever.” His grip on Marcus’s hand tightens.

“But why me? Why me? Why-... Why not... Literally anyone else?” His voice cracks, rage and fear lining every word. He rips his hand away from Jason and turns away from him.

“Because...” Jason’s voice trails off. He doesn’t know what to say. He always knows what to say. Why is it so different now?

Marcus pushes himself from the bed and leans against the bathroom door frame, arms crossed “Because what? Huh? Go on! Tell me!”

All he gets is a glare in response.

“What? Suddenly got nothing to say?”

...

“There is no reason, is there?” He laughs, a crooked smile on his face. “Of course there isn’t! It’s just something to make you feel better about yourself, isn’t it?! ‘Oh, look! I’m not all bad! I’m sparing this guy!’ Yeah? So what? So you can just-,”

He’s cut off by Jason rather abruptly charging towards him, lifting him by the shirt and pinning him to the wall.

“Ohoh, now what’s this? Some sort of intimidation tactic? You don’t scare me, y’know. Just-... If you’re gonna kill me, at least-.”

“Jesus, can you please shut the fuck up?“ Jason finally snaps back.

No time to react. Jason leans in, pressing his lips against Marcus’s. A breath of relief. He pulls away.

“Does that answer your question?” There it is. The usual venom and arrogance that laces Jason’s every word.

“Might need you to go into more detail.” Marcus replies, almost breathless. He wraps his arms and legs around Jason, which ultimately causes him to lose his balance again, sending them both tumbling onto the bed. Convenient landing spot.

2am. Not quite so still or silent now.

#oc tag #THIS is what i was trying to write augfhrhrhhh #the other version was nice but this one? this is the canon that has been living in my brain for so SO very long #guy thats so so deeply in love and unbelievably h*rny that he forgets he was ever in pain to begin with

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teaganxnott · 9 months

Text

mirror, mirror on the wall don’t say it, 'cause i know i’m cute. louis down to my drawers, lv all on my shoes. i be dripping so much sauce. lit up like a crystal ball — that's cool, baby, so is you. that’s how i roll. if i’m shining, everybody gonna shine — yeah, i’m goals. i was born like this, don't even gotta try. heard you say i’m not the baddest bitch? you lie.

basics.

name: teagan viola nott. pronunciation: tē-gan. vī-ō-l-uh. not. meaning: fair, darling, loved one; purple and violet. birthday: november 18th. scorpio. age: twenty-four. pronouns: she + her. sexuality: bisexual, female leaning. siblings: owen cormac nott, estranged. parents: clarence nott (father). eleanor nott neè greengrass. other family: extended nott family. extended greengrass family. languages: english. limited french. current residence: london. born: galway, ireland.

wizard fun.

hogwarts house: ravenclaw. year of graduation: 1975. affiliation: neutral. pretends to support the death eaters. occupation: model. pet: hairless cat named kismet. blood status: pureblood. species: witch. patronus: leopard. this cat is probably behind the phrase “death from above!” they are so at home in trees that not only do they pounce from up high, but they are also known to pull their kills high into the branches so that they aren’t snatched by other predators. these big cats are strong and graceful. boggart: teagan covered in filth and clothing ripped to shreds. amortentia scent: chanel N°5. clean and pressed clothes. floral tea. parchment and ink. wand type: mahogany. unicorn core. 10½ inches. sturdy.

appearance.

height: 5’ 9” hair color: black. eye color: black brown. hair style: changes with the day and outfit. fashion style: high class. fashionable. labels matter. heels.

personality.

positive traits: + well liked + independent + perceptive negative traits: – cocky – manipulative – theatrical theme song: juice by lizzo.

quick facts.

a princess who gets away with everything.

estranged from her older brother, owen. she wants to be close to him but whatever she tries it doesn’t work. she became the golden child while he was essentially cast out of the family.

traveled after graduating college. when she got to france she was approached about being a model. she loved it so much that it became her profession. her parents don’t like it but still adore her.

had a big head but still had plenty of friends from a variety of houses. however, she wasn’t scared to put people in their place. and get away with it.

pretends to support the death eaters for her family’s sake but really doesn’t care about the war.

headcanons.

to come.

bio.

although the nott family had their so-called prized family heir, owen, just two years prior, they knew at once that royalty laid in their arms when teagan viola nott was born. clarence and eleanor gave her everything. they deemed her a princess and treated her as such. she took etiquette classes from a young age and was always dressed to the nines. her parents never allowed teagan to lower her head to anyone. her cheeks, lips and eyes needed to be seen by all, resonating with the name nott. teagan viola nott built upon the nott name under everyone’s noses – more than owen. teagan may have been unexpected but she was unexpectedly everything the family needed.

the fact is that owen was left in the dust. he had become a problem child and their parents didn’t know what to do with him but because teagan responded so well to their parenting, they focused on her. this caused a rift between the siblings. as much as teagan hated seeing owen’s hurt and angry face, she fed off being doted upon. her young mind wanted to know how to fix it but couldn’t come to a conclusion. it didn’t help that their parents did their best to keep them apart, not wanting him to rub off on her. she felt a very real pain inside due to this. pain and guilt. it was almost a blessing when he left for hogwarts because she didn’t have to see his suffering every day. until she got her letter and would be at hogwarts with him.

thrilled to have the beneficial mind of a ravenclaw in the family it wasn’t a mind the notts cared about curating with school work and mere curiosities. no, they wanted her to learn tricks and trades. there were many ways intelligence could be interpreted, and clarence and eleanor corrupted it as much as they could. teagan had been taught how to act and what she should be, but part of what they taught her was to be manipulative, something she would use not only against her peers but also her family. she knew what they wanted to hear, knew what they wanted her to do and knew what they expected. teagan used it to her advantage. she twisted professors to her every whim, creating stories and showing emotions to get what she wanted. teagan could do whatever she pleased if she kept her manipulation and lies in check — at school but not anywhere else. teagan was the master of her trade, whatever trade she wanted it to be. ravenclaw did give her the chance to rely on books to help learn trades as she had to prepare for her work at the ministry following graduation. she had to be educated. this was the reason she was sorted into the house. she was wise. she knew there were more reasons than just the education she received at home.

when she got to school teagan tried connecting with owen. it didn’t go horribly but didn’t have the effect she had hoped for. in her dreams they would have fallen into each other’s arms and say how much they’d wished they could have done so all along. alas, owen was hesitant. after all, she was the golden child when he was not only the first born but also the heir — “unless that had changed too,” he’d say, which stung teagan to the core. as she got older, he introduced her to some parties in his house’s dorm. they had fun, but it was fleeting. “at least it was something,” she had to tell herself.

after graduation teagan was expected to get her job at the ministry but decided she wanted to travel. reluctantly, her parents agreed, giving their princess what she wanted. when her travels took her to france, she was approached and asked if she was a model. teagan laughed at the pick-up line. “no, seriously.” it gave her pause. she was never given the chance to think of a career in anything aside from a ministry official. the more she learned, modeling sounded fascinating. teagan agreed to give it a try and see how it went. she was a natural. even she was surprised. after working in france, the talent scout eventually got her a standing gig in london. the tides had changed. it was time to tell mommy and daddy. clarence and eleanor weren’t pleased with her for the first time but that didn’t stop teagan. but it didn’t stop their money flow.

teagan knew clarence was a death eater and eleanor to some extent, but she didn’t care about the war. teagan was still a master manipulator but now from a different angle. no marks on her perfect skin. no unnecessary drama concerning the war. she played along with their little game of pureblood madness but never carried it with her because she just didn’t care. there were more important, interesting, and fun things to do in life than fight, get bloody and scarred. all for what? something that would go on and on and on. nothing would ever change. but teagan would go along with her family, make them think she was on their side, waiting to have to come up with a cover story for the day they expected her to do something – but she would be prepared. it might’ve been said that teagan was the nott doll, but really, she was a puppet master all along.

#bio.#about.

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meowriam · 2 years

Text

Float: Day 0

She's arriving tomorrow. Fuck.

I mean, she bought her tickets months ago, yeah? I had plenty of time to get my act together. We started counting down the days, I've been telling everyone I know that she's coming, gushing about my dear friend whom I love very much. I've taken two weeks off, just to float with her. And yet...

I'm a mess, my thoughts are all over the place. I had no time to clean up at all before her arrival. She's going to see my home in its natural state: abject squalor. Welcome to our pandemic home, feel free to hang your mask on the hooks, and oh—check the expiration on any snacks you want to eat.

And yet, I'm calm. Because it's not embarrassment that I'm feeling. I want to be a good host, I want her to be comfortable, but I'm not worried about her judging me. I have no fear that her perception of me will change by being here. That's my personal definition of intimacy, and I suppose that's what this is.

It also helps that we discussed this. How having someone over becomes a second set of eyes, helps you see your own house clearer. How one can take on others' perception and notice things-out-of-place, how the dust sharpens and the book titles jump off the spine. Someone comes over and, oh that's where I left the shredder oil, hmm those cat scratches must be new, I suppose this room is smaller than I imagine, huh.

Curiously, my partner is also calm. She said she was mirroring my energy. I hadn't even noticed how I was feeling until she said it. Is this intimacy-by-proxy? I've been inviting internet friends over for years at this point, but this is the calmest my partner has ever been before a visit. I'm glad she's not stressed, and I hope we can sustain that.

If I'm worried about anything, it's getting in the way of myself, of becoming my own obstacle to spending quality time together. We've long since established rapport in video calls, settled into a familiarity, developed a cadence, and calcified in our minds each others needs, fears, dreams and triggers. But there'll almost surely be, as always, a second awkward phase, as we get accustomed to each others physical presence. What stands to change by meeting in person for the first time? What's one extra dimension between friends?

Okay, I'll focus. The plan tomorrow is simple: Pick her up from the airport, and take her home. It'll be a long flight. She'll want to stretch her legs. Or maybe rest. Or maybe drink coffee. How does jet lag work? I need to stop overthinking it. For now, I must sleep.

As soon as I can, though, I'll be cleaning my home.

#journal #diary

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Velvet and Lace

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: anon, i love you. Enjoy!!! (i also headcanon dia (and the rest for that matter) to be like really tall so if he kneels down, just know its because he’s tall)

You wait in the shared room for Diavolo, standing in front of a mirror, the glass clean without so much as a speck of dust allowing you to fully look at yourself without having your gaze torn away by something so small. A part of you is grateful, allowing you to admire yourself while the other part regrets it, hating that you have to focus on your bare skin, the way that the nightgown falls onto your body, the fabric thin enough to see the skin that should be hidden. You tug at the hem of the nightgown, trying to cover more of yourself only to have your chest exposed, the soft, supple skin heated with anxiety. Your heart beats with vigor, every beat an ache in your bones and making your mouth feel as if it were stuffed with cotton.

“It’s fine,” you murmur to yourself, your fingers playing with the lace at the bottom edge of the gown. “It’s just our first night together and that’s all it is.” You force for saliva to form in your mouth, only to come up short when nothing comes out. “Virginity isn’t a big deal, it’s a made up thing and-” your voice cracks, stomach flipping with anxiety as you fret nervously waving your hands in front of you. “It’s Dia,” you tell yourself, “I know him. He’s my partner and I’m his and it’s going to be alright.” You sick in a breath through pursed lips, your nerves calming for a second. “All I need to do is just say the words and-” you suck in a deep breath, already breathless before anything has happened- “and I’ll enjoy myself.”

You give a final look at yourself, eyes fluttering to where the hem barely covers past your underwear, the matching underwear pulled tight against your hips. Your hand goes to cup your breast, the cups of the gown only barely covering your nipples, the lace of it, threatening to expose more than you would like so early on. You pull your fingers to straighten the small bow, between the cups. With an encouraging nod given to the mirror, you go to rest yourself on the bed, your legs pinched together, fingertips tapping on your thighs. The clock in the room chimes at the hour, a soft tune that rings into the air. You’re tempted to spray more perfume on you, but you falter, your legs stiff as you contemplate wondering if it’ll only overwhelm him.

Ever present and ever moving, the clock continues, minute passing after minute, until just one is left. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that Diavolo is precise in his timing; whether it be because of Barbatos or because as a future king, he’d have to be precise, you still have yet to ask. But you do know that he comes to the room at eight minutes after the hour, every day without fail, unless a meeting happens to run long but even then, he’s messaged you long before the hour has even neared. Now, you wait, the minutes ticking by and never have you felt time more slow, excruciating as you wait for him to arrive and every second that passes, your nerves start to build. You can’t seem to trust the clock, wondering if it’s been messed with, you reach for your D.D.D., the screen flickering on with the time displayed only for the door to open. You drop the item, returning it to its place, as you stand. Your hands straighten out the nightgown, the lace unruffled and returned to it’s delicate position.

He takes a step inside, his eyes immediately finding you. Your fingers fiddle with the hem, only to pull them away when you decide that you want to be seen as someone with confidence rather than a nervous wreck when trying to initiate something past just teasing touches and kisses. He closes the door behind him, carefully removing his suit jacket and hooking it over his forearm. His smile ever growing, eyes flickering to your frame, resting at your breasts before rising to meet your gaze.

“What do I owe this surprise?” He asks, removing his shoes, eyes off of you for a moment. You smile nervously, interlacing your hands together to avoid them from touching your gown once more. He walks to stand before you, his hands gripping at the jacket and with him being so close you can see the glint in his eyes. “Cat got your tongue?”

You chuckle nervously, breaking your gaze from him. “You’re getting better at human phrases,” you say in a whisper, your gaze locked at the corner leg of the nightstand.

“Is this my reward for learning more about human culture? I must say, if this is what I get to have as a prize, I’ll be more committed to my studying.” His hands go to hold you by the hips, thumbs rubbing circles around the fabric, a small smile on his lips when you let out a quiet yelp. “Now, while I’m not saying I don’t trust you, I don’t believe my understanding of idioms is something that’s encouraged this presentation of yourself to me.” He takes a small step closer to you, his chest flushed against yours, his hands circling to your lower back. You can feel the warmth of his hands through the thin fabric. It’s comforting, his arms around you remind you of being hugged by a blanket fresh from the dryer- safe and warm. You still look at the chipping wood, your gaze focused, a frown playing at your lips when a hand leaves your back, coming to cup at your face, turning you to look at him. “Sweetheart? Is something the matter?”

Your hand comes to hold his hand, sliding your face downward until your mouth is covered by your hand, your face burning under his grasp. Your lips brush along his palm as you speak in a quiet whisper. “I want to have sex.” There’s a gentle squish against your face, his fingers pressing lightly into the fat of your cheeks, your eyes flickering upwards to his that are wide with shock. Staring into his, you press further. “Is that okay?”

“Of-” his voice catches and he clears his throat, turning away for a moment, returning with a flushed face. “Of course it is. I’m- Are you sure? I’m happy with our arrangement as is, we don’t have to rush if you don't’-”

You pull his hand downwards, letting it go once it passes your chin. His hand falls and rests on your chest, over your beating heart. “Dia?” He closes his mouth, brows raising in a questioning expression. “I really want to do this, please.” He nods excitedly, lowering himself, his hands brushing against your breasts as they return to your hips. His lips ghost above yours, his breath sweet and hands holding onto you tightly. Your hands rest against the swell of his chest, hands gripping onto the tie, pulling him lower to you. “Just, be gentle, okay?”

He lets out an amused scoff, nodding his head, eyes fluttering close. With a guiding hand, he pushes you gently, until the back of your legs hit at the edge of the bed. “Of course, my love,” he mutters, pressing his lips against yours.

You whine, tugging on his tie, a silent request for him to remove his clothing before you both rest on the bed. He nods into the kiss, briefly pulling away from you to loosen his tie and toss it backwards to the couch that is pressed against the wall. As he undresses, your hands come to the hem, tracing the lace underneath your fingertips, as before you can pull it off, his hands grab at your wrists.

“Forgive me,” he mutters, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips and despite him being so close to you, you miss him pressed against you. “But I wish to be the one to remove your gown.” He kisses you, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip, pulling away, a smile on his face when he sees your pout. “Will you do me the honor of being allowed to see you?”

You swallow nervously, nodding at his question. “Of course.” You kiss him once more, his hands teasing at the bottom lace of your gown and arousal begins to leak, thin and sweet as it pools onto your underwear, staining the cotton. Your hands rest against his shoulders, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin, eyes flickering to see faint scars curve against him.

You mutter his name between your lips, his hands rising to fiddle with the straps of the gown, letting them fall past your shoulders. A rush of adrenaline spikes throughout your body and you press yourself further into him and the kiss, desperate to feel him. He kisses you feverishly, pulling your hands away from you, a silent nod to lift your arms. The thin fabric flutters above you like a kiss from a phantom, your body covered in pricks as a shiver runs down your body. The lace touches against your nipples, the soft buds beginning to harden under the light touch.

Diavolo kneels before you, his breath hot against your breasts, your body burning as your mind clicks together as what he’s about to do. His lips latch onto a breast, the nipple sucked into his mouth. You let out a noise of surprise, your brows knitted together as his hands go to hold the breasts- one hand fondling at the breast that isn’t in his mouth while the other holds the breast closer to him, finger pads digging into the fat of the skin. His tongue is coarse, the wet muscle teasing at your sensitive bud, cheeks hollowing as he nurses on your teat. When he pulls away, a string of spit connects his mouth to your puffy nipple, his face flushed and your legs pinched together, hands tight on his shoulders to avoid you from touching yourself. He goes to the other dry breast, quickly latching on and sucking, letting the tip of his tongue nudge at your pebbled bud. Your hips stutter, your hands going to cover your mouth as your chest rises and dips with heavy breaths, a surprising high approaching from the sheer touch and play of his mouth with your breasts. You whimper his name under your touch, but he remains fixated on your breasts, his hand sliding down and grabbing at his member, his arm moving in slow and steady motions, his moans vibrating against your bud. Spit dribbles down the soft curve of your breasts, latching onto your abdomen and slipping to your tummy, your hands trembling as you peel them off of your face and go to cradle the back of his head.

“It feels so good, Dia,” you murmur, shuffling your legs bit by bit, desperate to gain any sort of friction. “It feels too good,” you whine, tears beading at the corners of your eyes, face heavy with a burning heat with your lower belly strains with a knot pulled tight. You muffle a whine with your hand, feeling a heavy discharge leak past your virgin entrance. “Please,” you croak out, heavy with lust, “just touch me already.”

He pulls away with a smack, his eyes drooping heavy, and his hand stopping its movements. “Would you like for me to touch you?” His eyes glance down to your spit coated breasts, a smile on his lips as he returns his gaze to you. “More than I already have?” You nod, grabbing his arm and trying to edge it closer to you. “Ah, ah,” he tuts, pulling his hand away. “I want to hear you say the words.” He smiles at your reaction, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “Humor me, and I’ll promise it’ll be worth your while.”

You stand straighter, forcing confidence to form in your nervous body. “Diavolo-” his smile turns wicked at the use of his full name- “please touch me. I want you to touch me before anyone else.”

He gives you a quick nod. “As you wish, my love.” He pushes you to lay down on the bed while he crawls between your legs, his eyes focused on your hidden cunt.

His mouth presses against your covered cunt, tongue running flat against your leaking slit. Your legs kick, your hands going to clutch at the covers, when your arousal leaks in heavy discharge, sliding out of your cunt. You can feel his lips suck against the fabric, teeth at the cloth carefully and slip his tongue out to taste your essence that has seeped into your underwear. It’s teasingly slow, as he tastes your cunt, slurping heavily on you, his hands tugging on the waistband. He slides your underwear past your thighs, your cunt still leaking and shining against your inner thighs, the fabric is heavy with your scent, pulled down your legs and against your ankle, and finally you are bare in front of him. Your body is heated, flushed with flames and excitement, burning your from the inside. He stares at your exposed sex and out of instinct, you go to close them, only to be stopped by his hands.

Diavolo murmurs something too low for you, his lips against your legs, peppering kisses upwards, until his breath is fanning against your sex. You wait with bated breath, legs slowly coming up to a bend. He takes a hesitant lick, running from your slit to your clit, your hands bunching the covers under you. Your arousal is thick, slipping onto his tongue, sweet like honey, and thick like molasses. His tongue invades your sex, his hands going to grab your hips, holding you down to the bed. You whine, bucking your heat into his face, desperate to feel the heavy weight of his tongue, the harsh feeling of it that tugs against your pulsing clit. His lips wrap around the sensitive bud, sucking it gently into his mouth, akin to how he suckled on your breasts just minutes ago. He holds you close to him, never seeming to take breaths as he ravages your cunt, leaving it wet with spit and cream. His tongue is rough, the muscle larger than any that you have seen, teeth sharp and yet they avoid your delicate cunt. He takes his time, patient with no real motive to pick up the pace, no matter how much you beg, the hold on your hips steady when you begin to buck your hips, desperate for more of him and the pleasure that he’s giving to you so freely.

The more that he continues, the deeper that his tongue pushes, the more that you can feel the knot in your lower belly start to tighten, a building pressure that presses against your body. His hands finally let your hips go, two thick fingers rubbing lightly against your clit, nothing more than a ghost over you, touching and loving your body in such a teasing way that the edge of your orgasm seems to mock you. His tongue is inside, the muscle squished by your virgin walls, the feeling of his tongue so deep in you awkward and welcomed. He curls himself inside of you, his fingers rubbing in circular motions, only to replace his tongue inside of your sex.

His fingers are thick, deep inside of you. They stretch you in a sharp pinch of pain, your eyes watering and hands going to tug at his rust colored hair. You pant his name, so desperate to have him push himself further inside of you. His tongue circles around you, flicking at the bud that twitches; spilling with arousal, creamy and warm sliding onto his fingers. Your body tense, your eyes pinched closed as the knot in your stomach snaps, waves of pleasure washing across your body. Your moans are loud and broken, sung unto the room of his, only for his ears as he keeps a steady pace, only to remove his fingers at the last second to replace with his tongue. You taste sweet, slipping down his throat in syrupy strands until his belly is full. He suckles in your slick admiring at how it slips down his throat easily, every bit of it better than anything he’s ever tasted and he wishes for this to be his meal, to have the taste replicated until he’s drunk off of it, the toxin so imbedded into his body, that he is unable to live without it.

He rises above you, his chin glistening with your orgasm, pupils dilated and there’s sparks in the air, his eyes hungers and tongue out as he pants, heavy drops of drool that stick to his tongue and drip slowly onto your chest. “Did I do good?” You nod your head, gasping for breath, your eyes fluttering to a close. He hums in satisfaction, his lips against yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. “We’re not done yet.” You slowly open your eyes, coming to rise on your elbows, him peeling away from you, sweat thin on your body. “I’d think we’d both enjoy it if you took over for a bit, hm?” he lifts you to your knees, laying back down, his arms bent behind his head, looking up at you with a kittenish smile, his erection beading out with pearly buds. “You’re free to go at your own pace.”

You’re slow to rise above him, your body weak and shaking with post-orgasm waves, and you’re sure that he hadn’t expected for you to move given his wide eyes. You perch yourself on his lap, arousal leaking and staining your inner thighs and his outer thighs. You look at his cock, seeing it much larger and thicker than what you’ve witnessed in the media. You swallow nervously, hands going to wrap around his cock. The head of it ends in texture bumping around, flaring it at the end ever-so-slightly. The shaft of the cock is layered in thick ridges, plump veins that run across his cock, the member hot in your hands, pulsing as beads of pre-ejaculate slide down and stick to the side of your index.

“Dia, love, I don’t know if it’ll fit,” you murmur truthfully, examining the cock in your hand, giving it a slight pump, your lips parted as it twitches in your hand. “It’s er, a lot bigger than what I had imagined.”

He rises to his elbows, and you meet his golden eyes. There’s a smile on his lips, playful and eyes sparkling like the sun that you miss. “So you’ve thought about me before?” He lets out a laugh when you frown. “I’ve stretched you with my fingers so there shouldn’t be that much of a pinch. Just take what you can princess, I know you’ll do a good job either way.”

You rise above him, the tip of his cock, pressed against your entrance. You can feel the weight of it, pressed so close to you. You slowly slip yourself down, eyes brimming with tears, the cockhead stretching past what his fingers had. The ridges and small bumps that flare against his cockhead add waves of pleasure to you, the bumps presing close to your walls and molding your walls to your shape. He curves mid way, a soft curve that is barely distinct, but able to feel as it’s inside of you. You let out a hiss, clenching tight around him, your hands on his abdomen, digging into his skin.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. You feel so good. You’re almost halfway in, love. Come on, keep going.” His hands grapes your thighs, nails pressing against the skin, as you sink lower, a cry escaping past your lips when you reach the swell of his cock. You lean down, hands sliding to grab onto his chest, nipples hardened under your touch. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs over your thighs in arches. “Keep going, let me see you with my cock inside of you.” You can feel every inch of him inside of your body, pulsing and squishing against your velvety walls.

You whine, gripping onto his breasts, his nipples, pressed against your palm. You slip to his base, moaning at the feeling of him inside. You lower your head, moving your hips pitifully against him. “Fu- Full,” you murmur, your hands loosening their grip on his chest. “I feel full, Dia.” Tears curve down your face, your cunt clenching around him. You feel as if he’s invading your body, pressed against everything inside of you.

“Then allow me.” His hands are on your hips, raising you and letting you drop back onto his cock. You whine loudly, calling his name and letting your head loll forward. “I wish you could see how cute you looked right now.” You whimper at his words, your breasts bouncing at the movement, but you are too weak to cover them. “So completely fucked out of your mind and I’ve only started.” You clench around him when he thrusts his hips upwards, burying himself deep in you. “You’ve taken my entire cock despite only being a virgin-” his eyes flicker downward, and he glances upwards- “I hope it isn’t too painful, love.” You shake your head, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth. “What a good girl, you are. Taking me entirely without a complaint, truly something to be proud of. It’s quite a sight to marvel seeing you like this. How long would it take you to be fucked silly, hm? To have you drooling over the thought of my cock, to have you beg for my seed?” Every word is met with a thrust deep into you, your cunt clenching and seeping down with arousal, another wave of pleasure riding throughout your body. Your cunt quivers, clenching tight around him as you spill. “So darn cute, it really should be a crime.” He situates himself, sitting up right, pulling you close to him in a lover’s embrace. “Thank goodness, you’re fucking the Lord, huh?” You can hear the smile on his voice and you retaliate by biting his shoulder, resulting in a chuckle.

He wastes no time, fucking you deep and hard, loud clicking echoing in the room, the bright light of the lamp illuminating your body. For a brief moment, he wished this were on the beach, where his sun would shine against your body, everything that is his surrounding your body and giving you warmth all at once. But for now, He has you in his private chambers, held close as he takes his time, feeling every way that your cunt closes and wraps around him. You’re so soft, so cute and small compared to him that it’s almost as if he were with something so delicate, so pure and untouched that he shouldn’t even be here in this position. But you call his name, pleading and begging for him, so close to him that he can feel your heart.

He spills inside of you, thick and creamy. It fills your body, swelling ever so slightly, thick with his seed as he stays buried inside of you, hands held tightly onto you, nails that threaten to turn into claws are restrained, hoping that no skin breaks. Bruises are left, large and in place of his fingertips and he holds you still. He keeps himself inside, pulling out when he’s drained for the moment, and instantly, everything inside of you, gushes out. It’s frothy, spilling out in copious amounts, his cock still erect and resting against your belly. You spill his seed onto the bed covers, a frown on his lips at the waste of it. Nonetheless, he keeps you close, watching as you gasp for breath, your hands going cup your stomach. He peppers your face with kisses as everything spills out of you.

You can feel your body lowered, shifted and turned, pressed and covered by something warm. Diavolo asks, holding you close in his arms, your body limp above him. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He presses his face against the soft curve of your neck, kissing at the exposed skin, suckling softly until marks are left in his wake. You murmur a soft “no”, pulling yourself closer to him, laying beside him. “Do you want to take a shower?” Your words are slurred together and he chuckles, turning his body to welcome you into his arms. You bury your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around him- as much as you can. “How about I wake you up when you’ve gotten proper rest?” He can feel you nod, your movements slower and heavier than moments before. His lips peck at the top of your head, eyes gleaming like gold smiling down at your sleeping frame.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #om swd #obey me diavolo #lord diavolo #diavolo smut #diavolo x reader #i love him #i just #i wish we could have like true monstorus forms #i want to be ruined by like a big monster #okay #enjoy!!#love you!!

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norieoncrack · 2 years

Text

ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕖 𝟘-𝟝: 𝔸 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕕.

@kimura-uzuri

(Y/n)'s POV

-"It's very charming..." You sweatdropped at the nearly falling apart building. If this was the definition of 'charming' then an average 'normal' would look like a garbage dump. How were you going to survive the night here? Not to mention the creepy 'This is totally not a haunted building' vibe you get from the said building.

-"Indeed, so much that I can't help but shake in fear," Yuu said bluntly grabbing your wrist.

-" Wonderful is it? Do come in!" The crow headmaster said before opening the door, it fell off, we need safety insurance cuz you are so suing the man-bird. Yuu just seemed like he lost it, sulking in the corner but still very adorable if you do say so yourself.

-"Now you two be good kids and stay here, I know this place might not be the best but at least it would keep you rain-free and indoors," the man said apologetically while you were patting Yuu on the back.

-"If you two need anything just go to my office, I'll be there doing paperwork. Also, don't go wandering the school at night, especially you (Y/n)." the crow disappear. As the door shut closed something else crawled on your skin, oh, you nearly forgot about the cat that had to ask for help earlier.

-"Get in you little midget, also here," you said handing it a towel, Grim, the cat-raccoon had entered the building just after the sky started pouring. Yuu wasn't really bothered by the cat's presence as he was finding old cleaning tools to at least clear out the cobwebs and dust in the room.

-"(Y/n) here, you might need this, there are a few rooms upstairs that are being unused right now. You'll be needing to clear out one of the rooms, also what are we gonna do with the cat?" Yuu asked as Grim glared at the said boy. "For your information, I am not a cat!!" Grim shouted in anger while almost causing another fire hazard.

-"Settle down you two, Grim you're coming with me to clean some of the rooms. Yuu you can start cleaning down here." The three of you split up as you and Grim started to walk on the creaking wood floors and old staircase, you might need a renovation for this place.

-"Nee Grim, Why did you want to come to this school?" you asked opening the door to a seemingly nice enough bedroom.

-"It's simple, I'm a genius who was destined to be a great magician," he said before pausing for a bit. "I've been waiting for the Ebony carriage to come to pick me up but... Gah, who cares the Dark Mirror just doesn't have an eye for this, I came here on my own. Though even if it didn't really bring back anything it would be a loss for the world. You humans just don't get it"

-" You did well, for a magical cat that is"

-"Not you too--!! Kyaa!! The roof is leaking!! Do something henchman!!" Grim said running to your spot hugging your knee. You sighed looking at the roof above you, "God are you there?" you said before earning a bite from Grim.

-"let's just go find some buckets, I'm sure we have some in this old building," You said grabbing the cat by its collar.

-"Can't you just use your magic? I was sure it was you who used the ice magic on me" Grim said making you raise an eyebrow.

-"No I'm magicless, last I remember I wasn't born into a magic family nor a family familiar with magic," you told him.

The hallway creaks as the cold wind blow by, whispers were heard but no one was around, finding something in a place this dark and drenched would be a problem. Just then a figure from the shadows appears before quickly disappearing again, uninvited guest or... ghost? A figure drew close, its presence was known after a loud shriek from Grim.

-"Calm down it's just me!" Yuu said holding several old buckets.

-"Pfft, not gonna lie Grim that was pretty out of character for you" you snickered just before getting a bite on the knee. But then someone just taps behind you on your shoulder not before realizing that something felt wrong.

-"Oh did you- WHO THE FRAP ARE YOU!?" you hissed at the ghost behind you. One of them just suddenly started laughing like a maniac before the second one and then the third. Was this a prank?

-"Oh that was a good one, *snickering* We haven't had a guest for so long."

-"I've been itching for some action, shall we gentlemen?" another one said as you quickly back away standing in a defensive pose.

-"Henchman who are you--?! Gyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaa--!? Ghooooooooost?!" Grim shouted you need medical insurance or else you might lose your hearing in the near future.

-"The people who lived here got scared of us and left."

-"We've been looking for more ghost pals, how about you guys?"

-"I'm good with crossing over but, I don't think my friend would like that so I gotta roll with it for now," Yuu hit on your head for saying that. But you weren't joking on that matter either, sometimes you just really wanna sleep forever then just wake up not remembering a thing.

-"Grr!! The great Grim isn't afraid of anything, ghosts are one of them!" Grim said trembling, you're giving him a point for effort though. And then fire.

-"Where are you aiming!"

"Over here~"

"Not us Grim, open your eyes!"

-"Shut up!! Don't try to give me orders!!" the cat-raccoon screeched in confusion and anger at the same time. Let's test out a few cat facts, shall we?

-"Oi! If you win this battle under our instruction we'll give you a tuna can!!" You shouted at the confused cat who immediately shot back to look at you only to refrain himself.

-"Wah!?... Geh. I-I'm a genius animal, I won't let some measly tuna can persuade me!!" Grim said continuing to fire at the ghosts. "Stop moving around so much!! Bunch of cowards ganging up on me!"

-" We'll get you three!!" Yuu shouted just before you.

-"Gah!? It's a deal then! Now tell me which direction to shoot!"

-"On your left!!" You and Yuu shouted influencing Grim. The cat proceeded finally hit a ghost.

On and on as the ghost continue to regenerate and then get burned by Grim's flames, you're still wondering how the building didn't burn down yet? The ghosts weren't doing any better trying to get a scare and not getting hit by the cat-raccoon's magic. You and Yuu had also constantly dodged the flames and magic that had was flying in the air. In a fit of rage that you couldn't dodge properly, you took the magic pen within your pocket and randomly shouted something.

-"The Fall of Ice: Protection!" You shouted not realizing any of your movements. Immediately the room turned cold and whenever the ghost or Grim tried to hit you or Yuu the ice shield would be able to help block it.

-"(Y/n)! You didn't tell me you had magic?!" Yuu shouted.

-" I just found out recently dimwit!"

-"Can't you help Grim?!"

-"No, the cat will handle it"

-" Why me?! And weren't you the one who froze me during the ceremony?!"

-" Sorry can't help it!"

-" Hot, hot, hot, hot!!!" A ghost shouted, it was just pure chaos and you being the centre of it.

-" Let's hit Em' one last time! Drive them out before the building gets more damaged, " you told Grim while also dodging some of the ghost attacks.

-" This is going to take forever if we don't stop, (Y/n) if you can use your powers try to work with Grim to usher the ghost away, I'll try to clean up most of the mess going on around here"

-"Fgnah!! You two are going to have to give me five cans for this type of work!!" Grim blew out fire turning around and up. "Sure! As long as we don't die!!" You said irritated and just waved your wand in the air.

The battle finally came to an end as the ghost begin flying away, the place wasn't too damaged as you and the others fell on the floor tired and beaten up. Icicles began falling on the ground, luckily they didn't shatter or anything else.

-"*Huff, huff* you humans *sure knows how to use *huff huff* me to do *huff huff* all the dirty work"

-" We'll still get you your tuna cans,... as promised"

-"Hey (Y/n) about your magic?"

-" Keep it a secret for now, once I find out the reason behind me having some and you not having any, we'll talk to Crowley about it"

-"And Grim, keep what you know a secret, I don't want to stir up problems right now"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

:))

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Friendship, Love, Courage

MY FIRST EVER COLLAB!! HOSTED BY THE WONDERFUL @danishmiilk

Characters: Renjun x reader, NoMin!

Fluff romance

Warning : mentions of “stealing”, quite a broken trust but its ending nicely

TW : Stress (?)

HERE WE GO!! I worked so hard on this (even had 2 other friends checked on this and they approved this thanks to both of you #they’re_not_in_tumblr

word count : 12 pages idk how much but come on finish it for me 🥺🥺🥺 thanks

tagging @yutahoes @neopalette @full-hd-sun @swagmonsterofficial @nini-eexxo @hen-marks99 At this point I'm just tagging my moots coz this was my first attempt of collab and i deadass worked so hard on this... it better be read by someone even if they don't like it but they read it 🤭💖 @superm-net @multifandomnet @trashlord-007 @ahsshilee-me @charmingyong

You smile shyly when the cute prefect in blue robe tosses a small smile to you when you pass by him on the moving stairs. He continues his tour of guiding the new wizards and witches into the magical castle, telling them stories, showing them the common room, and helping them adjust to the new living area.

You gasp when you feel a slap on your shoulder, quickly you turn your head to face the now annoyed friend standing beside you.

“Really (y/n)? You’re once again frozen in place when that honey boy you adore walks by.” Jaemin, in his green robe, slicks his blonde hair away while throwing some flirty smile to the younger girls passing by the two of you. They chuckle and blush at his action, unaware of the fact that Na Jaemin already has his eyes on someone.

You glare at him, quickly covering his mouth before catching attention of the living paintings hung on the walls. No, not even the paintings should know about your feelings to that cute Ravenclaw prefect.

“Shut that big mouth of yours please. Don’t you know the walls have ears here?!” you dust off your red robe and continue walking to the dining hall. Shaking aside the cute smile of Huang Renjun away from your head. You’ve met Renjun from the first day of school, he was pure blood with the Hatstall incident at his sorting ceremony. The sorting hat spent a good five minutes pondering if he should be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Alas the house of the witty won the cute half-blood. As much as you wish to get sorted into the same house as his (mainly because he is cute), once the hat is on, it sorted you to the house of the brave. You’re still happy though to be one of the brilliant half-bloods in the Gryffindor house.

Renjun was very nice of you, when you first felt lonely in the big school (funny how you, a Gryffindor can feel lonely eh? But that’s your life). When you were struggling to find your way through the halls you had to thank Renjun for accompanying you whenever you had to move classes. But your relationship with him is purely just as close as a stranger. Renjun never sits beside you, nor does he hang out with you, he sits with his own smart gang. For two years he purely just helped you get around the halls. Instead of befriending Renjun, you become friends with the two wizards in your batch, the generous Hufflepuff who helps you ace your Herbology class: Lee Jeno. He is your first bestie, and since he enjoys your loud and fun personality, he calls you one of his friends.

The handsome blonde in green robe by your side earlier is your other best friend, Na Jaemin. A pureblood descending from the Slytherin family. You don’t know how Jaemin wants to be friends with you, a Gryffindor, but here you are. If Jeno helps you with herbology, Jaemin is there for you in potion classes. Though at first you think Jaemin is just using you to help him pass transfiguration and magical creatures. Turns out it was the total opposite, Jaemin is interested in Jeno, and the only person he sees is nice enough to be his wingman is you.

You don’t mind this though since you’ve seen how sincere Jaemin is when it comes to defending you and cheering you up. You know it’s just his ego that doesn’t let him say he is being friends with you because you two click. Screw anyone who made the unwritten rules that a Slytherin and Gryffindor cannot be friends. Well you understand since he is a Pure Slytherin. No one expects Slytherin to befriend Gryffindor even worse a half blood.

Back to the mean time, you walk with Jaemin on your side to reach the library where Jeno has reserved a place for you two. It’s your fourth year in Hogwarts which means you and your friends have to start preparing for the O.W.L test to be taken in your last fifth year. Although the three of you are gifted with brilliant heads, no one can slack their O.W.L and expect to pass. Here you are, limiting your free time and getting your ass dragged by Jeno to always study when you have free time.

“I miss playing quidditch.” You whisper after one hour of sitting down in the library and sticking your nose into the lines and lines of scribbles.

Jeno snickers, “You miss quidditch or you miss being in the same air as Renjun?”

You slap his hand that lays on the table and the young boy groans, “You’re evil! You could be in Slytherin, gosh thank heaven you’re not there or you’ve turned me into a stone.”

Jaemin just smirks, well he likes this side of you. The semi-evil part in your innocent-like façade.

“Dramatic, Lee Jeno. I love flying on the broom and chasing the balls.” You lied and if someone had given you the Veritaserum, Jeno’s guess was right. Your team likes to practice with the Ravenclaw’s team; don't ask why when your team captain is clearly flirting with the Ravenclaw’s captain.

“Come on, no one will buy that lie. It’s been four years of secretly crushing Renjun, why don’t you try to at least “befriend” him.” Jaemin sets aside his book and rests his chin on one of his hands.

You focus back on your book, trying to not fall into Jaemin’s hypnotizing eyes that can make you spill truths. “I am his friend. He never calls me an enemy.”

“Yeah not like that, I mean bring him here to our group study, ask him to sit with you during mealtimes. Invite him to join us when we’re strolling around Hogsmeade.” Jeno whispers.

The three of you shut up when a shadow appears on your table and drop a pile of books.

“Excuse me, mind sharing the table? The place is full and yours is the only one available.” A soft voice greets three of you and like robots, you turn your heads slowly to widen your eyes and gasp when the guy of your gossip is standing here.

“Oh Renjun, yes you can. Please,” Jaemin kindly brings his books to his side and you throw him a death glare. Well, the available space is the one on your side.

“Thank you, hey (y/n)! It’s been a while,” Renjun smiles at you. You just smile and nod, well yes you rarely see him in class, mostly because your schedule didn’t match his and both of you stopped playing quidditch.

You swear, that was the longest one hour in your life. Renjun’s soft sweet fragrance of sweet baked vanilla from the side is enough to make your heart beat faster, not to mention how cute he looks with his glasses when he is focusing on the charm textbook. You know if this guy is going to sit here all day, none of the materials written in the book will be planted in your brain. Still, Jeno and Jaemin had the audacity to invite Renjun into your small study group.

“Hey Renjun, next time why don’t you join us to study for O.W.L?” Jeno asks when all of you clean up your belongings and head for dinner.

Renjun’s smile lights up and he laughs nervously, “Well if that is okay with three of you, I don’t have any friends to study with yet.”

“You’re most welcome here! Just ask (y/n) later about our meeting times. Jeno can help with herbology and I can help with Potions. You can help us with charms! (y/n) here is the queen of transfiguration.” Jaemin welcomingly says all of this. Though most people may be blinded by his sweet words, you want to smack the life out of him when you see his glinting eyes taunting you.

You want to object, saying that his schedule won’t work with yours, but the cat has your tongue and all you can do is stay quiet as Renjun thanks Jaemin for inviting him to the group.

With that, Renjun chooses to walk around the grounds for a while before dinner. Your heart is bursting any second whenever he looks up to glance at the sky and you can see his perfectly sculptured face. No, it is not awkward, he casually talks with you about how he also misses quidditch, he also shares funny stories of the first-year students getting lost in the hallways just like you. Is he teasing you about getting lost in the hallway? Well since it is Renjun you just smile, had it been Jeno or Jaemin their hairs would already be in your hand.

“They’re just like you. Looking so cute when they’re lost and confused, afraid to miss their class.” Renjun stares at you and you laugh.

“I know, it was hard okay memorizing this big hall! Not to mention the moving stairs.” You finally feel less nervous and you can start talking with less stuttering.

“Well, if you’re ever confused just call me. I’ll assist you again like back then.” He chuckles and you laugh.

Well, you sort of have to treat Jeno and Renjun for a butterbeer maybe, thanks to them you finally get to walk around and talk with Renjun on the ground after four years.

That night on the paved grounds. You sit down while playing with your wand, swishing it while practicing some chants (without actually doing it). You sit on one of the grounds, leg straight while you lean on one of the pillars there. There is a soft footstep coming to you and someone took the opposite part of the pillars. You turn your head to catch Renjun’s body mirroring yours, but he is holding a book.

“Complicated.” He shrugs coyly.

You toss your head to the side and smile "Renjun, how did you find me? " Your easy-going Gryffindor traits show up and Renjun calmly looks up from his book to look over his shoulder to you too. “Maybe from this?” he offers you a Marauder’s Map and you gasp.

“How can you have one?” you want to take it from his hand, but he is faster.

Before you can ask more questions, Renjun diverts the topic and asks you about the group study. "So, are you sure your Slytherin and Hufflepuff boys want me to be in the group?" Renjun bashfully asks you this.

You laugh "They're more than happy when you accept their offer. Truth is we all suck at the hard charms. We need a tutor and we also need one more friend to make the space full. You're on our first list."

"I am honored to be first in the list, and I also like having friends to study with. So, tell me what the schedule is." With that, you wave your wand to bring you a piece of paper. "Accio schedule." The schedule paper lands on Renjun's slender fingers from your small pocket and the soft looking boy runs his eyes through the timetable. "Great, I can adjust my classes for this." You feel your heart can't take it anymore when he looks into your eyes deeply.

"So, see you tomorrow afternoon." You stand up trying to leave the ground, since the sleeping hours are coming, but his hand reaches for your wrist. "Sorry, do you want to go watch the quidditch practice between our team tomorrow? It's after lunch." Renjun scratches his neck. You nod "I will!" He smiles "Great, see you! Good night."

You raise your eyebrow "My hand" And he gasps as he lets go of your wrist. "Sorry" Both of you laugh and you finally go back to your room. Things were great, you and Renjun slowly became closer.

You hate the silly rules of staying over your own common room. Like dang you want to meet Renjun in his common room, but you know you’re not the smartest one to unlock their password. Not to mention you are not ready to have eyes pierced on you as you enter the room (if you ever succeed)

So, you end up only able to meet Renjun when he sees you on the hallway and with Jeno and Jaemin. He sometimes appears to you in the garden and you once found him chilling on the school’s astronomy tower in the middle of the night. He’s daring enough to leave his bed and you found him stargazing.

After your one encounter on the astronomy tower, that becomes your regular meeting place with Renjun.

Like tonight, both of you sneaked out of your beds, tiptoeing perfectly through the stairs. Somehow escaping the ears of Mr Filch and voila both of you are smiling ear to ear as the moonlight glows through your faces.

You sit on the porch, suddenly regretting your stupid head for forgetting the scarf. The wind is pretty harsh, and you try to hug your body. Renjun is busy watching the sky through his binoculars. You gave him your binoculars when you discovered he also loves space and the galaxy.

“Want to look at the stars?” Renjun looks at you and hands you the binocular. You nod your head while trying your best to not shake from the cold, but it is cold.

“Silly, forgot your scarf?” he unwinds his own blue silver knit scarf and steps closer to wrap it over you.

“What about you?” you feel worried about his condition. Renjun only shakes his head, “I wore warmer clothes. Also, you shouldn’t fall sick. You need to prepare for your O.W.L tomorrow. Just watch the sky.” He quickly changes the topic when he sees your annoyed face of bringing up O.W.L

You take his advice when he pushes your body to face the sky and you bring the object to your eyes. He was right, the night sky is always mysterious and calming, somewhere out there two of you believe another universe with aliens exists.

Renjun secretly watches you in admiration. He never expects to get this close with you, physically and mentally. By now, he knows your most embarrassing story, your favorite food, and your favorite star.

“Renjun! Quick make a wish!” you tug on his sweater and pull his hand when your eyes catch a shooting star.

Renjun is quick to realize your hand is still squeezing his arm, but he closes his own eyes and makes his own wish. You wish with all your might, things will be better for you and Renjun. You want him, you love him and basically, you’re so ready to risk everything just to get him. Creepy? No, that is love.

“So, what did you wish for?” he whispers near your ear, you see him shivering so you naturally take off the scarf and try your best to share it between both of you.

Renjun’s cheek blushed, “Didn’t think of that. You sure are smarter at things like that.”

You giggle “About your question, don’t you know a wish should remain secret or it won’t work.”

The young man scoffs, “You believe that?”

You nod “Well I thought you do too.”

Renjun smiles, “Fine. I will also keep mine.”

You can no longer hold back your yawn and you realize if both of you stay in this cold air, you’ll need to call in sick and that is not happening. Not when you need to catch up on all class materials.

“See you Injun-ah,” you wave as you drape the scarf back on him. He smells your sweet musk perfume and something tingles Renjun’s mind.

He remembers he had smelt that same hint of scent somewhere, but where. In confusion, the Ravenclaw walks back to his room. Only when his head hits his pillow does he finally remember where he encountered that smell. None other than that silly amortentia potion class. Take a whiff and you’ll know who that special person is.

“Tell me again how he always managed to find you?” Jaemin asks you about how Renjun always finds you. Both of you are sitting in the garden, taking a whiff of fresh air.

You sigh, you know you shouldn’t be telling him this, but you think Jaemin can keep secrets.

“He has a Marauder’s map.” You whisper under your breath.

Jaemin’s eyes lighten and his jaw drops. He really looks glowing with happiness like he won a lottery.

“(Y/n)~” his sing-song tone comes out and you mutter a curse under your breath. Oh no, he is going to ask you something. Which is true.

“Is it possible if you borrow the map from Renjun? Just for a second.” He pouts and draws random lines on your arm. You pull your hand away and slap his hand “What are you thinking? Go borrow by yourself.”

He drives his eyes to his feet, “I really need it, but I guess Renjun won’t let me borrow it.”

You scoff “You know it already. I never even touched it Jaem, it’s really precious after all.”

Jaemin, a total charmer, looks you in the eyes with his sickening puppy eyes “Please, I need it to meet Jeno secretly too! He seems tired but he is hiding it from us…”

“Your point?” you cut the crap out of him.

Jaemin smiles and you see his cunningness really popping up when he bribes you to help him “Point is, can you just take the map from him for a while and then I’ll use it to find Jeno, then you return it to him. Simple!”

You groan “How is that simple? That’s stealing!”

“Borrowing, just that he won’t realize it’s ever gone from his hand.” Jaemin shrugs his shoulder

“It’s not an honest game. You said ``borrow not steal and return.”

“Then try borrowing it from him, he doesn’t talk to me about the map so it’ll be weird if I ask him about that. He will be mad at you for spilling secrets and I know you love him so much.” He smirks, knowing that he won your internal battle.

You sigh, Jaemin really traps you in the mouse trap eh?

“Fine, let me try to borrow it from him. What will I get in return?”

“Woah you're so calculative! I thought we are friends and friends help each other?”

You really regret not joining Jeno to study with Renjun, this Slytherin man is really cunning… luring you to leave the library to “take in the fresh air” but ended up dealing with a dangerous project.

“Okay if you insist, I’ll say if the map worked, I’ll be able to accompany Jeno and he will be happier and you want to see Jeno happier right? Also you’re my best greatest courageous friend, isn’t this like a challenge?” he stares at you with great compassion plus hitting your chivalry ego and since no one is there to slap you, you nod your head.

“Okay Jaemin.” The Gryffindor spirit of not thinking about an action carefully is here.

Jaemin smirks and waves you goodbye after slipping a small tube of potion to your hand. He disappeared like that and you start to think of a way to talk with him about the map, while staring at disbelief for the Felix Felicis in your hand. Dang that Slytherin boy really is questionable.

You spend the afternoon thinking of a way to get Renjun’s map and you finally choose to ask him slowly.

“Renjun! What are the things you always keep in your bag?” you ask randomly but Renjun and you did this a lot of time, so he doesn’t smell your smoke.

He thinks for a while, “Nothing much, books and the map, some quills and chocolates? Why?”

You nod “It’s okay, just curious.”

He doesn’t pester you about it, only talking more about different things.

“Hey, tomorrow is Sunday. Mind to just sit and enjoy the day off? We sit in the fountain courtyard.”

Your brain finds a chance to take his map and so you nod your head.

You drop the Felix Felicis potion on your breakfast tea that Sunday morning and you meet Renjun who is looking so good in his casual outfit.

You’re nervous, though luck is favoring you, you are still battling yourself whether you should just snatch the map or ask him nicely.

After talking about different things and driving his attention to other things, you inch closer to Renjun and stare at his lips. Somehow your brain is focused on his lips and oh did you forget you took a potion this morning?? Because your silly head wants to kiss his lips so bad and luck is really on your side.

“Why are you staring at my lips? You really like them don’t you?” Renjun boldy asks, something so uncommon about him.

You gulp and blush, but your heart secretly wants to kiss him.

“Come here,” he pulls your hand closer and once your shoulder crashes with his, he kisses you right in the middle of the day when everyone can see you two sharing a slow kiss.

Your head almost stops working but suddenly Jaemin’s shadow appears in your mind and you quickly put your hand into Renjun’s bag. You didn’t know the lucky potion could be this wonderful because once your hand enters the bag you find the paper already.

Renjun was so focused on the kiss that he didn’t notice your hand slipping the map to your pocket. Only when you’re done did you finally break the kiss.

He blushes and you chuckle “That was intense.”

Yes the kiss was intense but the reason your heart beats super-fast is because of the action you just did. Stealing.

“I love you Renjun,” you whisper, feeling a bit sad for lying to him… but you don’t want to be embarrassed after what you did go well.

“I love you too, I didn’t know our feelings were mutual.” He innocently rubs his burning face and you want to die from lying with him.

“Renjun, sorry for suddenly leaving, but I have to go, I got something to do.” You stand up from the grounds.

“Huh? Oh okay I guess you look rushed.” He stands up too, “Where do you have to go? I can walk you there.”

You shake your head and reject his offer, “No, it’s personal. If you don’t mind, I’d rather go by myself. Bye Injun! See you!” you run away from him and disappear before he can even bid his farewell.

The ravenclaw just shrugs his shoulders and returns to his common room. When he kisses you earlier, he feels so fuzzy and fireworks are popping in his heart. As weird as it sounds, the kiss made him come up with a new imaginative creature.

Yes, Renjun is a ravenclaw who enjoys imaginative creatures. He is talented in drawing, so he spends his time sketching and naming creatures he has in his head. Though you may ask how a Ravenclaw believes in uncertain things with no concrete proof, Renjun has been hiding this guilty pleasure from anyone.

He hums as he sits on his chair and starts arranging his paints. The sun is angled perfectly at this time and he is more than excited to paint the new love creature he has in his mind.

On the other hand, you are running to meet Jaemin.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no goods.” You tap your wand and open the map to quickly find Jaemin.

There he is, somehow lurking in the dining hall. Weird.

You pocket the map and make your way to him.

“Use this quickly. I don’t know how long it takes for Renjun to notice.” You stuff the map into Jaemin’s pocket.

His eyes twinkle “Oh gosh you did it. You do this for me? Thank you!” he taps your shoulder and flies away “I’ll return it to you once I am done. Promise.”

You just wait for him with anxiety crawling in your heart. Something about stealing, lying, and using potion is just not settling well in your Gryffindor heart. You let out a deep breath, and relax a bit.

Only that it didn’t even last long and things are going downhill from here.

While you wait nervously in the dining room, you find yourself face to face with a fuming and disappointed Renjun. “You stole the map, didn’t you?!” he holds back all the anger inside to avoid reaching for your collar.

You gulp, of course he noticed. It’s been almost two hours. Couldn’t Jaemin find Jeno, bring Jeno to return the map to you then go disappear somewhere. Why should you wait for this long.

“I-“ you stutter “I’m sorry.” You apologize, your heart tells you lying more will just bring you to a deeper pit.

Renjun shakes his head, “You stole but I’m hurt you tricked me! Did you mean the kiss or not?”

Your eyes widened, he was just confused about the kiss? Oh how cute. You want to open your mouth, but it looks like the cat got your tongue again and Renjun was faster in assuming things when he is angry.

“You know what? I don’t care about your kiss, I don’t even care about your explanation. Give it back.” His palm opens up to you and you bite your lips “It’s not with me.”

His eyes would pop off from his head “You what? You lost it or gave it to someone?”

Damn Ravenclaws and their quick brains.

“I’ll give it back to you, I promise.” You reach out for his hand, but he snatches his hand away to his chest before you can appeal to him.

“You know what? I found it already.” He looks over your shoulder and sees Jaemin coming to you with a troubled face.

“And by the look of Jaemin’s face, I guess this is not my day.” Renjun sounds super sad and you hate yourself for actually starting all of this. He was in a super good mood earlier and you ruined everything. Now will you ruin your friendship too? and love interest.

You heard Jaemin apologizing (something so uncommon) about something and the next second, you don’t hear anything from Renjun’s lips, just an eerie silence between them and suddenly the man in blue sweater runs away from you and Jaemin.

“I may or may not have accidentally been caught by some other Slytherin, and they wanted to see the map. It ripped.” Jaemin mutters slowly and you feel your world has stopped turning and you should just leave Hogwarts before facing Renjun.

Renjun left both of you and there’s nothing you can do. There is, but your brain stops working and your Gryffindor heart cowers and runs away. You sit devastated on the ground and Jaemin copies you.

“We can try to fix this map,” Jaemin tries to cheer you up but you shake your head “We can’t. Even if we can, I don’t think the bond of our friendship can be fixed.” you pull your knees to your chest and put your chin on them

“I’ll find a way to fix this. I promise, I broke the map so let me take the blame for this.” Jaemin stands up with the ripped map and he casts the repair charm.

You just stare at it soullessly. Well the map did come back into one piece, but Renjun’s disappointment can’t leave your head.

“I am sorry (y/n).” Jaemin sincerely apologizes to you and you just hum a silent reply

“Look, I believe Renjun will forgive you. He might not forgive me, but I deserve this. This is not your fault. I made you trick him. I am the guilty one.” your best friend tries to cheer you up, but your mind keeps on thinking Renjun.

That young ravenclaw did come into dinner, well he has to as he’s the prefect. But when you leave your chair to tap his shoulder and talk with him, he already leaves with the big group and you find yourself alone, losing your chance.

You ask around where he is, and everyone says he’s in the prefect bathroom enjoying a long bath. You hate how he has a hideout you can’t come to. So, the only thing you can do is wait.

You think of ways to apologize and how he can forgive you. Should you do his chores? Should you do his essays? gosh no he’s smarter than you. Should you buy him some new paint and drawing books? He likes to draw right, but you bite your lips when you remember your allowance this month was finished for good when you bought that new broom.

You go to the toilet, and come back to ask where he is on a passing Ravenclaw, only to curse when they said he is already in the common room.

Great, now you really won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Hey (y/n), I handed him the map already and asked sorry.” Jaemin suddenly taps your shoulder when you are walking to your room.

You just nod “Lucky you, looks like he is not that disappointed at you. Must be because he is afraid you’d turn him into a frog.” you try to tease Jaemin but even your own joke doesn't taste good in your tongue.

Renjun tries his best to avoid you, or more likely avoid hearing your apology or explanation about what happened that day. It’s as if you’re a deadly plague! He did show up a couple of times to the group study meetups, but he never talks to you about anything other than asking your question about the lesson or when the boys ask him about his nerves about the test.

You feel sick from all of the studying, but most of your stress comes from Renjun’s constant ignorance towards you. He did talk to you about other things, he explained to you the lessons you’re still struggling with but he never speaks of that day as if it never happens. Though some people like that better and just brush it off, like Jaemin for example. You’re not satisfied with this. You need his real acceptance of apology or you can’t feel ease in your heart.

You tried all you can, sending him a message filled with handwritten apology, a chocolate of his favorite brand, a chocolate frog, some badly drawn apology painting, a poem, and even try to bring up the conversation whenever you meet but he always finds a way to smile and drive the topic to another thing.

His playful gaze can still be felt by you and he still helps you occasionally in classes you struggle in. He even helps until the last days of the O.W.L test and the guilt in your heart is just piling up.

“Good luck on your O.W.L '' Renjun one night smiles at you after cleaning up the books and quills. You gasp “Thank you, you too and Renjun I am sorry.” you finally get the chance to utter your apology intimately without anyone else near you.

Renjun sighs “You’re still sad about that?” you bite your lips and nod “I can’t take it off my head.” The man in blue robes chuckles and messes your hair “Silly. Stop worrying about that. Just focus on your studies okay so that you can pass this O.W.L” you turn red from his action, heart beating super fast upon seeing his cute smile and hand touching your head.

“Alright, I need my sleep. You go to bed too okay, see you for breakfast tomorrow.” he tucks a hair away from your face and bops your nose. You see him walk away after saying good night and when you want to go to your room, you notice a blue scarf he left on the chair.

“Renjun forgot this.” you wrap it around your neck because you have lots of stuff to bring back and slowly you walk to your room, enjoying how his scent softly brushes your nose when the wind is blowing in your direction. You feel calm now that Renjun told you not to worry about it and seeing how he’s back to playing with your hair makes you feel less guilty.

“I’ll return this tomorrow,” you mumble to yourself only to wrap it tighter to your neck when you sleep.

The O.W.L this year is nerve consuming and stressful. You and the other students are all squeezed and no one is having their energy other than studying, eating and sleeping. You’ve talked less with the boys, you’re busy isolating yourself in the study room or just in the garden to study and focus on yourself. You also forget about Renjun’s scarf and he seems to forget it too, judging by how he is using another scarf.

All of you made it through the excruciating exam and finally you’re packing your suitcase.

“Are you ready to go home?” Jeno puts his face into your face on the morning of the beginning of the holiday. You have a beaming smile on your face and you happily hug him “Thank you for your help! I did my O.W.L nicely because of your help!” Jeno only chuckles and laughs at your remarks. He only plays with your hair and pushes you away only for you to hit Jaemin’s chest and the cheeky guy is not ready to catch you. You close your eyes, preparing yourself to hit the hard ground and be embarrassed for the rest of the year in Hogwarts, but you didn’t hit the ground. You open your eyes and see Jaemin already standing next to Jeno, eyes running through the hall as he winks and waves his hand to the passing students. So, who is holding you?

“Hoah easy Jeno, you pushed her too hard!” A soft voice you missed. A voice that sounds so cute when he whines or complains. A voice that has been whispering all day all night in your head. Renjun.

“Renjun! Sorry.” you brush yourself as you stand up and tidy your looks. Suddenly feeling conscious if you’ll look good. Renjun smiles, he has his trunk by his hand too, looks like every one of us is going home this Christmas.

“It’s great to see you before the long holiday, (y/n)!” Renjun pushes a small smile and you are busy reaching into your backpack for something. “I need to return this! You left it in the library last time.” you hand Renjun the neatly folded blue scarf which surprises him. “Oh it’s with you! I thought I lost it.”

You laugh “Sorry, I forgot to return it to you.” you extend your arm to him. Renjun quickly takes the scarf and opens it, the next thing you know is that he inches closer to you, wraps the scarf softly on your neck and his lips hover above your own lips. When you look into his orbs, you see how he’s waiting for your permission and while Renjun still has his hand holding on to the scarf on your neck, you close your eyes and feel him pull you by the scarf and seal your lips with a long quiet kiss.

You feel butterflies in your stomach as he gently keeps his hands moving to secure your neck and your heart is thumping so hard.

“I forgive you, go enjoy your Christmas.” Renjun sincerely laughs and kisses your cheek “So, from today is it day one?”

You nod “Day one!” Your heart feels light, the heavy guilty feeling in your heart is gone, his kiss shows how he is not angry at you and you feel his passionate and sincere desire to have you as his significant other.

Jeno and Jaemin pretend they don’t see both of you, just waving their hands to any passing students, telling them to send owls, saying they’ll see them next year and all the season greetings.

“Alright, my train is leaving love. I’ll see you next year. Send me an owl , okay!” Renjun pinches your cheek that’s super red from his sudden actions. You just have a big smile on your face as you nod and wave “See you soon!”

Jeno and Jaemin help you put your stuff into the car your brother has sent to pick you up. You thank the boys, hugging them for being here with you through ups and downs and you’ve made peace with Jaemin. That guy promised you he’ll bring you back your favorite candy from his hometown.

As you sit down in your car, head looking back to the majestic and mystical castle, you smile when you remember how Renjun pulls you into a very sweet kiss and that’s enough to show you how he’s not mad or disappointed at you. You were overthinking, but that’s you. That’s something about your gryffindor heart, always wanting to be responsible for your faults and it feels good to finally see Renjun saying he forgave you already.

Magic and love. Might work side to side, might not. Whichever that is the potion or your attitude, Renjun loves you the way you love him too and that’s what matters.

end

#hogwarts au #nct hogwarts au #renjun x you #renjun x reader #renjun fluff #renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #jaemin x reader #nct dream fanfic #renjun x y/n #renjun angst #nct dream x you #jeno #jaemin #jeno x you #jeno x jaemin #nomin

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snackhobi · 4 years

Text

pairing: namjoon x reader / word count: 9.3k / genre: pwp/smut

summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand.

warnings: sexually explicit content, masturbation, edging (kinda), unintentional voyeurism (briefly), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), bigdick!joon, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation (reader gets fucked dumb), praise, aftercare (please heed the warnings, and let me know if I need to clarify/add any!)

For most people, Sunday is a day of rest. But not for you.

Sunday means chores. Sunday means tidying up, dusting, vacuuming. Sunday means finally doing all the Adult Things you’ve been too busy/lazy to do for the rest of the week (or even longer than that, as evidenced by your overflowing laundry basket). Sunday means work.

You slap at your vibrating phone, fingers sliding uselessly across the screen as you fumble to cut off the chirping alarm, and then you groan. “Ugh." You bury your head into your crumpled pillow. And then, once more, with feeling: “Uggggggh.”

You roll around in your bed, thrashing a little like a child having a tantrum, before you flop on your back and stare at your ceiling with your limbs akimbo, a starfish.

“Why?” You whine out to no one in particular. “Why me?”

Fortunately you live alone, so there’s no one to witness your sulky behaviour. You would put off getting all your errands done, but you’ve already been doing this for so long that you’re practically out of clean clothes to wear. That’s one part about living alone that’s a double-edged sword- you have your own space where you can act however you please, which is Great, but also you’re the only one responsible for keeping on top of things, which is Less Great. You can’t rely on other people to get things done for you.

You’ve never been a morning person, and the fact it’s so nice outside already does nothing to brighten your mood; it’s the perfect kind of day, the chilled bite to the air mellowed by the sun in the cloudless, pale sky, and you’re going to have to spend it indoors. Ugh. You eventually grit your teeth and pull yourself out of bed, waking yourself up with a cold shower. Once you force a cup of overly sweet coffee into your system and the caffeine hits you so that you’re fully awake and ready to go, the world suddenly feels a lot more bearable. So you’re unperturbed when your underwear drawer comes up practically empty.

“Oops,” you say. “Oh well.”

It’s practically empty, but not entirely; there, at the back, there’s that pretty lingerie set you’d bought on a whim in a sale and then promptly never worn. Honestly you’d be happy to go without, seeing as no one else is here and you have no one to look pretty for, but you find that you never get anything done if you’re not in a bra. It’s like a Pavlovian response that you've ingrained into yourself: when you get home, your bra comes straight off, no ifs, buts, or maybes. Bra off means it’s Relaxation Time. Bra on? That means it's time to get things done.

But, yeah, if you’re going to wear the bra, you may as well wear the matching thong, right? It came as a set so you’d basically be committing a crime if you didn’t wear them together. You take one moment to admire yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that to appreciate how it makes you look, before promptly ruining the illusion of sexiness by covering it up with a pair of old sweatpants and a too-large tank top. They're the only bits of clothing not in your laundry basket that you don't mind getting dirty while you clean, so, you have to make do.

The worst part about doing chores is getting the whole process started, but you’ve been doing this long enough that you have a routine. Bra on, hair up, mental checklist ready. You toddle through to the kitchen with your laundry basket, picking through for the colours and whites, feeling entirely too accomplished once you get the first load sorted. This kickstarts the whole chore procedure and once you get stuck in, you actually start to have fun; you’ve got your noise cancelling headphones on and your cleaning playlist is full of songs that get you pumped up, and you sing along to the music as you get started on your next job.

You wiggle your butt to the rhythm of the beat while you hoover, pushing your vacuum into the corners of your flat and ruthlessly sucking up the dust bunnies that have gathered there. You're in the middle of belting out one particularly long note when a spider scuttles out from under your sofa and the note rises into a little scream; you act on pure instinct and suck the spider up into the hoover, watching as all the long hairy legs fold together and get schlorped into the vacuum’s nozzle before disappearing forever. You feel immediately relieved but also immensely guilty when this happens- spiders are awful and you hate them but usually you’d try your best to catch them under a cup before flinging it outside, so the fact you’ve maybe just killed it? You really are just awful. (But thank God it’s gone.)

Maybe that's enough hoovering for now.

You empty the dust bag into the bin, mindful of the fact that the spider might still be alive and come crawling out onto your hands. Thankfully it doesn’t, but you’re not going to take any chances; you draw the bin liner shut and tie it tight, before deciding that the best course of action is to put it into your outside bin, in case the spider decides to come back with a vengeance.

You hoist the bag up and pause for a second to glance down at how the straps of your too-loose top have slipped down your shoulders to reveal the top of bra, the intricate lace trim of the cups and extra straps that criss cross your chest- definitely an, uh, interesting outfit choice for a quick trip out of your flat. You make the executive decision to shrug on a hoodie and zip it all the way to your neck to preserve your modesty and save you from the chill outside. Once that’s done it takes two seconds to slip your feet into your (fake) Converse shoes, another few seconds to fiddle with the lock on your door, struggling with the latch- it’s been a bit janky for a while and you keep forgetting to sort it out- before you hop your way downstairs and to the outside shed where everyone's bins are stored.

Ewch. It doesn’t smell that great in here. You make quick work of dumping your rubbish and escaping from the hut, shutting the door firmly behind you to try and keep the stench locked inside, before almost falling over when you feel the telltale sensation of a cat curling around your ankles. He’s meowing up at you but your headphones have been drowning him out, so you slide them off your ears and hook them around your neck so you can actually hear him.

"Oh, hi, baby!" The ginger stray likes to hang nearby the building, always friendly and happy to see you, even if he seems to like sneaking up when you least expect it. He meows at you again as you squat down to stroke him, butting his head into your palm as his tail curls in delight. "Aren't you just the most gorgeous boy? Yes, you are, aren't you?"

The cat ends up putting his paws onto your knee to butt his face against yours, and the next thing you know, you have an armful of cat. You laugh and continue to pet him, cooing at how cute he is as he purrs back. "Awh, baby, you're so sweet," you say. "I wish I could take you home, but my meanie landlord says we can't have pets."

“I was thinking of starting a petition, actually, so the landlord gets rid of the No Pets clause in the tenancy agreement. You’re welcome to sign it if you like.”

You glance up from where you’ve been allowing the cat to shove his nose against your chin, standing up straight to address the man who’s talking to you, cat still clutched in your arms. “Oh! Hi, Namjoon-ssi. That’s such a good idea, I love that. Stick it to the man. I’d definitely sign it. How are you today?”

Kim Namjoon, aka your neighbour from across the hall, is smiling at the cat in your arms. Namjoon’s the perfect neighbour and ideal tenant- quiet, tidy, considerate, although he does have a tendency to lose his keys and gets locked out of his flat on a pretty regular basis.

It’s actually how you’d started to talk in the first place. When you first moved in you’d given him a small box of chocolates to endear yourself to your same-floor-friend, only exchanging small nods and pleasant greetings for a while after that, but after you’d found Namjoon waiting sheepishly on his own doorstep- “My friend has a key but it’s going to take him a little while to get here,” he’d explained- you’d invited him into your own flat to wait, rather than just in the hall.

Since then you’ve started to have chats whenever you see each other, and occasionally knock on each other’s doors whenever you ask to borrow things like sugar or a screwdriver or whatever, and you always invite Namjoon in for a cup of tea when he’s waiting for one of his friends to rescue him from his own forgetful nature. You’re still toeing the line between Friendly Neighbours and Kind Of Friends, but one thing you already know and admire about Namjoon is his ability to actually be a mature and put together adult. Sure, you drink a decent amount of water, you have a skincare routine with multiple steps, and you usually manage to eat your 5-a-day, but a lot of that feels like you do it because you’re expected to, sort of like a child playing make-believe.

Namjoon, meanwhile, manages to just ooze the sort of gravitas that comes with being a fully realised human being, someone who actively participates in the world around them because they’re entirely engaged with things and basically just Super Mature Adult (even if he apparently loses/breaks things on a fairly regular basis). Hence why you’re not at all surprised at the petition thing, or when Namjoon proceeds to tell you that he’s going to spend the afternoon at his friend’s uncle’s strawberry farm, picking fruit, because of course Namjoon is the kind of guy who supports local, organic, free range produce. (Wait. Can strawberries be free range? Or is that just eggs?)

“Ahh, I love strawberries! That’s so cool,” you say. “It must be fun.”

“You’re welcome to come, if you like,” Namjoon says. He’s always gracious so you know he’s just saying this to be polite, but you can’t help but think it would probably be really nice to spend time picking fruit and talking with him.

“Ah, I’d love to, but unfortunately I have prior commitments. I’m catching up on chores,” you admit ruefully. You’re still absently scritching the ginger cat’s chin as you speak, the animal purring up a storm in your arms and shedding all over your clothes, although you don’t notice or care. Namjoon is incredibly endeared- not that you notice that, either. “Hence the runway-ready outfit.”

Your hair is so messy it looks like some sort of wild possum has been nesting in it, your hoodie sleeves are so long they threaten to swallow your hands, and you’re not even wearing your cheap knock-off shoes properly- you’re stepping on the back collar of them in your bare feet so they’re basically glorified flip-flops at this point. Total fashionista. (Not.)

Namjoon, however, seems surprised at your dismissive tone. “You look cute and cozy,” he says.

You snort in an unladylike way, lifting the cat in your arms a little- you can’t gesture properly with an armful of fur, especially when the stray takes this as an invitation to crane upwards and shove his little face into the crook of your neck, knocking against your headphones. “Cute baby,” you coo at the cat, before turning your attention back to Namjoon. “You look cute and cozy,” you echo. It’s a little chilly today and Namjoon’s wrapped up, long scarf curled around his neck, beanie on his head, hem of his coat fluttering around his thighs. Super cozy, and again, a well-put-together adult.

You muffle a sigh. He’s a well-put-together and hot adult, tall and built, so handsome in his casual outfit, effortlessly masculine. You’ve been lowkey crushing on Namjoon for a while now, as futile as that effort is- you haven’t seen any evidence of a special someone in Namjoon’s life, but there’s no way that man is single. Even if he somehow is, he’s like, a bajillion light years out of your league, hyper intelligent and kind and gorgeous, in comparison to your… um… your… well. Yeah. In comparison to that.

He’s nice to you and he smiles whenever he sees you, though, and your weak little heart can’t help but flip flop in your chest whenever you see that dimpled little smile, even if you know you don’t have a chance in hell that he really thinks that you’re cute. He’s just being polite.

The cat in your arms gives a little wriggle, apparently sated for the day, and you carefully squat down to deposit him onto the ground. He gives you both one last little mewl before scampering off and you fondly watch him go. “Let me know when you have that petition written up,” you say, brushing the cat hairs off your sleeves. “I better get back to my flat, I need to finish the rest of my laundry so I can continue the facade of being a functional adult. Have a great day, Namjoon-ssi, and I hope you enjoy the strawberries! You’ll have to tell me how they are.”

“I will,” he says, eyes warm as he smiles, those little dimples appearing in his cheeks. Ugh, you want to touch them so much. “Good luck with your laundry.”

Namjoon’s beautiful smile fuels you for the rest of the day, buoying you up as you scrub the walls of your shower and bleach your toilet, bright yellow gloves a size too large for your hands as you spritz your bathroom counter. You might not be a legitimate adult in the same way that your neighbour is but you can give it a damn good go; even if the rest of your life is maybe a bit more chaotic than you’d like, you can at least get your surroundings in order.

And you do. By the time you’re finished with hoovering and mopping your floors and reorganising your clutter, your flat feels brand-spanking new again, fresh and clean and airy. You’d even lit a few scented candles earlier and you give yourself a pat on the back for your forward thinking as you snuff them out, the delicate smell of vanilla lightly filling the apartment. All that’s left is to go to the kitchen and put the final load of laundry in the tumble dryer and once that’s been emptied and sorted, you’re all finished. Mission accomplished. Chores done.

Once the tumble dryer has started its cycle you reward yourself with a cup of tea, a blackcurrant and blueberry fruit infusion that you’d gotten as a Secret Santa gift at work and hadn’t used yet, saving it for a special occasion. You hum to yourself and continue to wiggle your hips to the music trickling out of your headphones as the kettle boils, watching the purple that bleeds from the tea bag once the hot water cascades over it. It looks rich and vibrant and it smells so good- but then you make a little face when you take a sip. Fruit teas never taste as good as they smell. It’s not bad but it’s a little disappointing, really, a subpar reward after a hard day of work.

You stand in the middle of your kitchen with your mug still in your hand, eyes unfocused as you stare into space, trying to think of things in your flat that you could use to reward yourself. You’ve already used up those fancy gel eye masks that Jimin had given you for your birthday, and you’d let Jungkook have your sheet masks when he’d said his favourite brand was out of stock; Taehyung had pilfered all of your bath bombs as part of an experiment (the experiment being that he wanted to know what colour his bath water would turn if he used all your different bath bombs in it- the answer was ‘an incredibly underwhelming, if glittery, sludge brown’), and he still hasn’t gotten around to replacing them.

Pay day isn’t until next week and you’re tight enough on money at the moment that you don’t want to order out for dinner- living alone means you have to pay more rent so you have to be more careful with money- so you’re out of ideas.

That is until motion out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. You glance over at it, pulled out of your reverie; the old tumble dryer has been in this flat longer than you and it’s showing signs of wear and tear, base warped a little from age, noisy and wobbly as your clothes are being spun inside. You pause, mug dropping a little in your hand as the thought briefly flickers through your mind, before you bite your lip and throw caution to the wind. Fuck it. You live alone and you’ve had a long day and you deserve some kind of reward.

You abandon your unfinished mug of tea in the sink before eyeing the shaking tumble dryer. You hoist yourself up, straddling the corner of the machine, a little shiver running through you when you feel the vibrations through your legs and thighs as you settle into place; it takes time to situate yourself, thighs spreading as you tilt your hips forward and press your heat against the rumbling dryer. You shift on your hands, palms braced against the top of the machine as you wriggle into the best position- the second you get just the right angle you let out a little gasp, eyes squeezing shut when you feel how the shaking machine is sending vibrations throughout your entire body.

You keep your eyes shut as you continue to find the right rhythm. You rock your hips forward each time the machine rocks back, rolling the weight of your body down towards your clenching cunt; the vibrations are so strong that you can feel them through your sweatpants, lace of your thong rubbing against your clit in a deliciously rough way, sending little shockwaves of pleasure through you.

As you continue to work yourself up, your skin starts to feel overheated under your clothes, even with the chill spring air seeping into the flat- you fumble with the zip of hoodie, letting the material sag open before you brace yourself with your palms again. You feel how the hoodie slips down your arms, baring your shoulders, and you tilt your head back, revealing the line of your neck as you arch your spine. Each rumble of the machine rolls through you, wetness starting to slicken your folds as you grind down a little harder. It’s a steady, slow climb towards your peak- you shut your eyes to focus fully on the pleasure building between your legs, the way your clit feels swollen and almost over-sensitive from the strong vibrations from the dryer, the way your pussy clenches whenever you get the angle just right.

You start to gasp, biting back moans when you feel how your orgasm is getting closer. You lift one hand from the top of the dryer to run your hands over your skin- your neck, your throat, tracing over the straps of the bra that are digging into the swell of your breasts. It’s good, really good, but it’s not enough; every time you feel like the peak of your orgasm is about to crest, it ebbs away again, and you let out a little whine from the back of your throat.

With your eyes still shut, you try to conjure up images that’ll arouse you and send you tumbling over the edge. Hands on your body, lips against your skin, your mouth. Normally when you masturbate you try to keep away from thinking about anyone in particular, because you feel like if you see that person in the future they’ll just telepathically know about it and you end up feeling awkward and guilty (even if you know it's illogical)- but today you can’t help it. Your mind slips to the thought of Namjoon this morning and the way he’d smiled at you, and once you start thinking about Namjoon, you can’t stop.

Namjoon’s smile. His mouth. His tongue. His hands, his fingers. His tall, beautiful body, pressing you down against a mattress, trapping you against him. You take the hand that’s been trailing over your collarbones and lift it to your mouth and press two fingers past your lips, trying to imagine that it’s Namjoon. Imagine that it’s the weight of his cock on your tongue, hard and heavy. You bet it’s as gorgeous as the rest of him. You bet he tastes so good, hot and salt and maybe a little bitter, heady and masculine; you let out a low moan around your lips as you run the pads of your fingertips over your tongue, saliva pooling in your mouth.

All the while, your music has been playing on, heavy beat thrumming through you as you forget the outside world and focus on the reality you’re conjuring in your mind. Namjoon’s cock in your mouth. Namjoon’s mouth on your cunt. Namjoon’s skin against yours. Namjoon fucking into you, hard and deep. Your blood rises in your veins, toes curling as you can feel how your orgasm is getting ever closer now that you’re this turned on, your cunt leaking with arousal; the thought of Namjoon wanting you as much as you want him is dizzying, as unlikely as it is. The Namjoon in your mind fucks into you with a particularly rough thrust and in the real world you respond with a moan, garbled around the fingers between your lips. Fuck, you’re so close.

Just as you're nearly there, your playlist ends and everything lapses into silence, your reverie shattered. The moment is gone. Your orgasm slips away from you again and you whimper, unintentionally edging yourself yet again.

Your eyes flutter open briefly when your haze is broken, although you squeeze them back shut so that you can get back to picturing Namjoon and finally bring yourself to completion- but then your eyes fly open again, fingers stuttering in your mouth and hips going still as your entire body stiffens, blood turning to ice in your veins.

The very real Kim Namjoon is standing in the doorway of your kitchen. There’s a look of utter shock on his face, his lips parted, eyes so wide it looks like his eyeballs are going to pop out of his skull, frozen in place. You don’t know how long he’s been there. You don’t know if he’s just walked in on you. Really, though, it doesn’t matter if he’s been there for five seconds or five hours- he’s seen everything, the way there’s saliva dripping from your mouth around your fingers, tank top barely hiding your lingerie, the way you’ve been bucking your hips against the dryer. Utterly desperate and debauched and depraved.

There’s a small, white plastic bag in Namjoon’s hands with a pretty strawberry logo on it, drooping further and further towards the floor as his arms go slack. You don’t notice it until it’s slipping loose from his fingers and landing on the floor.

Berries go rolling out of the sagged plastic and across the tiles but Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice. That single point of motion in the room seems to kickstart your brain into gear, your flight or fight response screaming flight, and you practically throw yourself off the tumble dryer. Your brain is entirely empty of logical thought right now and the only thing you can think of is that you need to get away and hide forever.

You rush past a still frozen Namjoon, stumbling down your hallway towards your open front door- you notice that the latch is stuck, not clicking into place when you’d come back inside earlier and leaving the door unlocked, you idiot. Namjoon always knocks and it must have swung open as soon as he rapped his knuckles against it, and you wouldn’t have heard it over your goddamn music. You absolute, utter idiot.

You’re not thinking about how illogical it is to flee from your own home to get away from someone. You’re just thinking about your escape. Taehyung’s flat is the nearest and it won’t take long to run there and you can survive without shoes; you’re still barefoot but you don’t have time to grab anything. You have to run.

You’re just stretching out for the door when you feel large hands grab you from behind. You flail, door swinging shut as your fingers brush against it before you’re being pulled backwards by the arms that have slid around your waist. You start to struggle, squirming in the hold, pushing at the hands trapping you as you instinctively still try to get away from the shame and embarrassment; Namjoon’s body is warm and solid against your back, his muscles effectively trapping you in place, and you can feel how his voice rumbles through him as he speaks, audible through the silence of your headphones.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never heard Kim Namjoon sound like this. His voice is authoritative, commanding. The part of your brain that acts on pure instinct- the part that just told you to go hurtling out onto the street without shoes- responds instantly, and you immediately go lax in his hold even though you’re still internally panicking.

“I was planning on going to the moon,” you say, unable to cover up how your voice is shaking, even if you’re trying to hide behind sarcasm. It’s your only defence right now. Your skin prickles with embarrassment. “Where else do you think?”

Namjoon lets out a chuckle, and your toes curl at how deep the sound is. “The mouth on you.” He sounds amused. You can’t look him in the eye. “Were you trying to get away from me?”

“‘Trying’ is the operative word.” You’re still staring resolutely at the door- it’s swung shut and the latch has actually clicked upwards this time. Traitor. “As you can tell, I’m not doing a very good job. The sooner I go, the sooner I get the paperwork started for my move to Fiji.”

“I thought you were planning on going to the moon.” Namjoon’s hold on you is still firm. You’re utterly helpless. “Changed your mind?”

“Going to open a diner in Fiji to raise funds for my moon mission. It’s a long plan.” The spike of adrenaline that had burst through you is already dissolving in your system, leaving you feeling limp and strung out. You can’t see Namjoon’s face with how your back is crushed against his chest; when you glance down all you can see is how big his hands are against your stomach. Despite yourself, you shiver. As panicked and embarrassed as you are, arousal is still trickling through you, and you hate yourself for the effect that Namjoon is having on you right now. You try to sound calm and unaffected as you continue to speak, but you feel breathless from the lingering pleasure tingling between your legs. “Can you let me go now, please?”

“Is that really what you want?” You’ve had your hands on his wrists from how you’d been trying to push them away, so you feel how one of Namjoon’s hands starts to slide downwards, slow as treacle, and your breath hitches as his fingers slide under the waistband of your sweatpants. They don’t go any further than that, palm splayed over your hipbone, but you feel your pussy clench at the warmth of his hands on your skin and a whimper slips out of you. “Or do you actually want something else?”

Your fingers dig into his wrists. When you open your mouth to reply, your words fail you and instead you just let out a little breath. You’re in utter disbelief at what’s happening right now, unsure of what’s going on- you’re not an idiot but there is no way that Namjoon is implying what you think he’s implying. Absolutely no way. Not a chance in hell. What?

As you continue to stay silent, brain trying to catch up with the situation, Namjoon doesn’t move.

“Use your words, baby,” he murmurs. “I need to know that you want this.”

Oh, fuck. When Namjoon calls you baby it feels like a switch has been flipped inside you; like he’s slipped a missing fuse into place and your entire body has lit up, full of energy and electricity from his touch. It’s overwhelming. “Of course I want this,” you confirm, trembling, and then: “I want you.”

Namjoon responds by finally moving his hand downwards. You watch as it goes, how he pauses when he makes contact with the fabric of your underwear, the unmistakable texture of embroidered lace under his touch. He drags his fingertips across the straps that cross over themselves, an arrow guiding him to his mark; your entire body goes tense when his fingers glance over your swollen folds, slick through the fabric.

You gasp. You’re still trapped against him by the strong arm curled around you, but your hands are free- you pull your headphones off and let them fall to the floor, twisting your head around so you can finally look at Namjoon’s face. His eyes are hooded and dark. He looks nothing like the cute and clumsy man who waves you good morning every day; he looks like some hungry animal, a predator who’s been waiting for the right time to swallow his prey whole.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. He gives you a small smile that’s more of a smirk, utterly at odds to his usual dimpled beams.

“You don’t have to settle for an old tumble dryer, gorgeous.” He kisses the bare skin of your shoulder, right next to where your bra strap is resting, eyes locked on yours. His lips are so soft and you shiver. “Let me help you.”

“I’ll have you know that tumble dryer was very close to getting me off, actually.” You’re so turned on right now but you can’t help the words slipping out; a lifetime of snark doesn’t leave you the second you start feeling horny. “So it’s less you helping me, and more you giving me something you owe me, seeing as you took it away in the first place.”

Namjoon’s silent for a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far- if you’ve run your mouth too much- when he hums. “Ah,” he says. “That’s true. You’re right.”

“Huh?” You say eloquently, surprised, but then he takes the hand out of your sweatpants and you whine. “Hey, put that back, you’re not done yet.”

Namjoon lets out a little chuckle. “No, I’m not,” he agrees. “But I want to see this pretty lingerie properly. You’re all covered up and that just won’t do.”

He punctuates this statement by taking both of his hands to your hoodie, where it’s been caught at your elbows, and sliding it off you. He drags his large palms down your arms as he does this, cool against your overheated skin; goosebumps appear in the wake of his touch and you shiver again. You have no idea what's going on right now. Everything feels like some sort of fever dream but you're not about to start complaining.

“If you’re about to see me in my unmentionables I’d least like a kiss first,” you say, pout audible in your voice. The truth is you’ve thought about Namjoon’s plush lips more often than you’d like to admit, how beautiful his mouth is, and it’s got to be illegal for Namjoon to have been touching you for as long as he has without letting you have at least one taste of his kisses. “Please?”

“Turn around, baby.” You instantly comply, all but throwing your arms around his neck as you look at him with an innocent, bambi gaze; he still has that half-lidded set to his eyes but you can see how that ravenous hunger is softened by his smile. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you say. You might sound like the protagonist to some cheesy romance film right now but the truth is that you’re still aware of the heat between your legs, the ebbed arousal that’s still coiling low in your stomach, and as much as you want to kiss Namjoon, you want to cum, too. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss m-”

Namjoon kisses you. He cuts you off mid sentence by slotting his mouth against yours, open around the word he swallows, and he immediately presses his tongue past your lips; you yield to him, letting him press his lips to your cupid’s bow as you lick his lower lip, soft and full. Just as good as you thought. No- better. His hands stay steady around your waist, but yours keep moving as you keep kissing- his shoulders, his nape, his hair, his jaw. Every part of him is so warm and solid against you and you just can’t get enough.

You slant your head to get deeper, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths in a way that borders on lewd, rubbing against each other as you trade saliva, your mouth full of the taste of Namjoon. You swear there’s a lingering taste of strawberries. You feel better, a little more in control now that you know Namjoon will indulge you even if you’re being a brat, and you can finally chase the thing that got this whole sequence of events started.

“I wanna cum, Namjoon,” you murmur against his lips once you finally part, breathless from his kisses. “Will you help me cum? Please? Pretty please?”

Namjoon’s lip curls back from his teeth in a silent growl, and a shudder runs through you at the sight; seeing your usually composed neighbour act like this because of you is a heady sensation. “You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you,” he says, and your pussy throbs with need at his words.

“Jesus Christ, Namjoon.” Your eyes are wild. “I want you to fucking wreck me.”

You get no warning before Namjoon is literally sweeping you off your feet and you squeal in surprise when you feel them leave the ground, but Namjoon’s grip on you is steady as he lifts you in a bridal hold. You feel breathless at this physical representation of his strength- you’ve only seen his bare arms once (that had been a nice morning) before but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about how thick they are, as evidenced by the way he’s carrying you.

Normally you’d probably be chewing him out for lifting you without warning, but right now there’s a very base, animalistic part of you that goes belly up at the very obvious reminder of Namjoon’s superior power. The instinctual part of you that had initially told you to run away from him now seems entirely content with the fact you’ve been caught, and so you stay quiet in his arms. You cling tight to him as he walks to your bedroom without the need for directions, your flat the mirrored twin to his; you keep kissing his neck as he nudges the door open with his foot, running a hand down his chest, feeling the flex of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt.

He’s so fucking hot, what the fuck.

He’s hot, and strong, but gentle, too. When Namjoon sets you down he’s so careful even though he could easily manhandle you in any way he wanted, and you give him a kiss as a thank you. It’s a brief moment of quiet, that little kiss, but then Namjoon is pulling you back towards him and his hands are all over as he helps you strip; Namjoon’s eyes are heavy on your body as he drinks you in, finally wearing nothing but the lingerie he’s been so desperate to look at.

He sees the way the interweaving straps rest against your skin with the perfect amount of pressure, little swells letting him know that he’ll be able to trace the touch of lace on your body even after he’s ripped it off you. The lace cups of your bra do nothing to hide how your nipples are standing to attention, begging to be touched. But the most eye-catching thing, the thing that Namjoon can’t stop looking at, is how sodden the lace between your legs is; your inner thighs are slick with your arousal, shining, and you haven’t even cum yet.

“Look at you. So gorgeous,” Namjoon says. “Gonna make you cum over and over, baby.”

His hands feel so good against your skin as he skims his fingers over your panties, but he doesn’t take them off, and you let out a needy little noise. “Please,” you whine. “I need to cum, Joonie, been waiting so long.”

Namjoon watches as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra and reaches for your hands, stopping your motions. You blink up at him, confused, but then he’s turning you towards the bed and bending you over it, motions firm and undeniable; not that you would try to defy him, anyway. You brace your palms against the mattress and instantly arch your spine so that your ass is pushed out, enticing as possible.

You’re wondering if you’re going to have to beg for Namjoon to touch you but it seems what little patience he had has run out; his warm palms are immediately against your ass, touch reverent as he slides his hands over your skin, and you press back into that touch, wanting more of it. His hands skim up your sides and his fingers dance along the edge of your bra before reaching for the hooks, unfastening it so that it slips down your arms and onto the bed before you shove it aside.

He bends over you, chest broad and warm against your naked shoulderblades, arms coming around your body so that he can cup your breasts in his large hands; his palms cover so much of your skin, your sensitive nipples, and you gasp at the shock of sensation that shoots through you as he drags his hands over them before using his fingers to pinch the hardened nubs. You twist your head and make a little noise, and Namjoon obliges you with a kiss, grinning against your mouth with each desperate sound he muffles with his plush lips.

Eventually, though, he pulls away from you. You glance over your shoulder to see that he’s gotten to his knees, still staring at your soaking core, before he hooks one of his thumbs into the fabric covering your aching pussy and pulls it aside before pressing his mouth against you.

“Oh, fuck!” Your body goes weak and you slump forwards onto your elbows and shove your face into the bed, and Namjoon follows when this moves you away from him, tongue buried in your cunt as he eats you out with no mercy. He’s utterly shameless, noises slick and lewd as he drags his wet tongue over your entrance and clit, swallowing down all the arousal that’s leaking out of you, ravenous. You reach behind you with one of your hands to grip his hair, and when you grind back against his face he lets out a satisfied hum; you gasp at the vibrations against your lower lips, oversensitive from all your edging.

“Gonna cum,” you say, twisting your head so that your cheek is pressed to your rumpled blanket. “I’m so close, oh, God, Namjoon-”

He’s been rubbing his tongue up and down your clit in a particularly sinful way, and after one more particularly hard stroke, you finally, finally reach that precipice you’ve been reaching for all day. You shove your face back into the blanket as you cum, all your gasps and moans coming together in one long cry as your toes curl and you tighten your fingers so hard into your sheets you almost pull them off the mattress. Your entire body trembles as your cunt pulsates with pleasure, each ripple of your pussy feeling like it’s passing through your whole body, and Namjoon doesn’t let up for a second, lapping down each wave of cum that flushes out of you. You feel utterly weak as you flop forwards against the mattress, boneless and shaky, but Namjoon’s mouth is still on you and you let out a whimper, oversensitive.

“It’s too much,” you gasp. “Namjoon-”

He takes his mouth off you immediately. “Sorry, baby,” he apologises, pressing a kiss against the swell of your ass. You want to sag your lower body against the bed but his hands are keeping you up, fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass and hips. “You just taste so good. Can you lie down for me?”

“Yes,” you say into the blanket, your voice a muffled slur. You’re so eager to please him even though you feel so weak from your post orgasm haze, and your muscles feel like jelly as you try to lift yourself onto the bed. Namjoon obviously notices how fucked out you are because he helps flip you over so that you’re on your back, staring up at him.

You continue to stare at him as he sheds his clothes. You let your gaze shamelessly rove over his body as it’s revealed- the honeyed tone of his skin, the muscles that shift underneath it, his shoulders, his arms, his chest, the long legs, the thick thighs, the trail of hair that dips down to his-

“Holy fuck.” Your voice is reedy with desperation, and Namjoon laughs.

His cock has to be the biggest you’ve seen in real life, long and thick, fully erect even though you haven’t touched it yet- the fact that you’re apparently arousing enough to bring him to full hardness is flattering, honestly. Even as you stare at it, it twitches, a dribble of precum oozing from the flushed head, almost an angry red from neglect. You watch, enraptured, as he circles his fingers around it; it doesn’t look any smaller in his large hands. He pulls on his cock, long and slow, before he spits onto it and fucks into his fist as you watch him, spreading the wetness over himself.

“Gonna fill that hungry little pussy with this cock,” he says. “Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl. Is that what you want?” Namjoon watches you as he thumbs at his slit, precum weeping from his tip. “Does my good girl want this cock?”

“I want it,” you beg. You do, you want it so bad. His mouth and lips and tongue felt so good but it must be nothing in comparison to how good it’ll feel to be filled up by Namjoon’s heavy, long cock. “Fuck, Namjoon, please, I want it.”

You lift your hips so that Namjoon can slide your panties off you. He stares at the strings of wetness that cling to them as he peels them away from your core, finally bare to the cool air of the room, and you suck in a breath. He wastes no time, climbing onto the bed and settling above you, cock swaying between his legs before he grasps it and tilts it towards your entrance.

You lift your hips again, tilting them towards him for an easier angle- and immediately cry out when he broaches you, head pressing past your entrance. You’re so turned on and flushed wet that the initial slide in is easy, but as he gets deeper and deeper you can feel the stretch, your pussy forced open for him, feeling like you’re being split open with how big he is- you’ll feel the burn tomorrow, but right now your body is ripe and ready for him to take you, cunt clenching as he bottoms out in you. You experimentally tense your muscles and the two of you gasp in a breath, shocked pleasure at the sensation.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon groans. “You feel so good.”

He holds still for a moment to let you adjust, leaning down to kiss you. It’s deep and slow, tongue swiping into your mouth as you part your lips for him and let him take what he wants. When he leans back, all that softness is gone- your legs fall apart as he starts to fuck you, hips snapping forward as he ruthlessly presses his cock into you. He’s so big and he’s striking so deep it feels like you can feel him in your stomach, and you arch your back into him and cry out each time he strikes home.

The pace he sets is rough and aggressive, the slap of skin against skin and wet noises from his cock driving into your pussy filling the silence of the room, every part of you hypersensitive to every sensation- Namjoon’s weight pressing you into the mattress, the shaking bed, the rising smell of sweat and sex, the firmness of his hands on you. He leans back and you catch a glimpse of his hungry eyes before he puts his hands under your knees and hitches your legs up so that you’re practically bent in half when he fucks into you again- you cry out at the change of angle, how this lets him splay his large hand over the line of your hipbone as he starts to rub his thumb across your clit, continuing to fuck into the whole time.

“Gonna c-cum again,” you hiccup between thrusts, the air punched out of you each time that hot cock spears into you. “Joonie, gonna- gonna cum aga- oh!”

Your spine arches as your orgasm rips through you, coil of pleasure exploding like a firework as you cum for the second time that day, walls tensing around Namjoon’s cock; he continues to thrust into you, even when your cunt clenches so tight it feels like there’s no space inside you for his length. He keeps forcing your body open for him even as you keep falling apart around him, and you keep taking it, loving it. The only thing you can register is the delirious, mind-numbing satisfaction, sobbing out as Namjoon’s cock continues to fill you- you feel like he’s fucked you dumb, like your body was only made to be fucked by him, sloppy and open and wet. Each time he fills you up again it forces a noise from your throat, sounds of almost animalistic pleasure spilling from your lips, all semblance of coherent words gone.

When Namjoon pulls out of you, even though your body feels weak and limp and entirely fucked out, you whine at the loss. The next second, though, he flips you over, nudging your ankles apart before sliding back into you. The change of angle has him dragging against your sweet spot, balls slapping against your clit, overwhelming off the heels of just cumming, but you just take it, drooling into the pillow as your brain gives over to the all-consuming pleasure.

“So pretty when you cum around my cock.” Namjoon’s bent over you, murmuring praises that you barely register as he litters kisses over your shoulders and the side of your throat. “Greedy little pussy takes my cock so well. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Wanna be a good girl for you.” Your words are a slur, your brain foggy but eager to please, answering the question. “Joonie.”

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he says, lips pressed against your ear as he whispers filth to you, still mercilessly fucking into you. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy with my cum. Do you want my cum, baby?”

“Wan’ it,” you moan. There’s heat curling in your abdomen again, pussy tightening as another orgasm creeps up on you, the promise of Namjoon’s hot cum filling you pulling you closer to the edge. “Want your cum, Joonie.”

His fingers tighten around your waist as he starts to jackhammer into you. His cock feels like it’s splitting you open even as his rhythm starts to falter, and after one particularly hard thrust your eyes roll back in your head as you tumble over the edge again, cumming so hard it’s a wonder you don’t pass out. You let out a strangled moan and Namjoon curses as you tighten around him, your entire body trembling under his hands as you give yourself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through you.

His rhythm falters before he lets out a shout and his cock jerks inside you as your tightening cunt pulls him into climax. Hot cum fills your pussy as he empties himself inside you, aftershocks of your orgasm drawing his seed deeper, painting your insides. You lie there and take it, face turned into the pillow as you focus on the sensation of his twitching cock, the way your body is milking him even in your exhaustion, like it’s desperate to satisfy him even when you can barely speak.

You shiver when you feel him slowly pull out. He’s stroking his hands over your skin, kissing your shoulder blades and nape as he turns you over, gentle as he touches you. “You did so well,” Namjoon praises, smiling at you. “So good for me.”

You still feel fuzzy but you latch onto Namjoon’s words as he kisses you on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. Words seem so hard to string together right now but you try your best, voice small and weak. “Did good?”

“Absolutely perfect, baby,” Namjoon says, and you let out a happy sigh. You stay quiet while Namjoon slips out of your bed before returning with a damp cloth. You let your muscles go entirely lax as Namjoon rolls you onto your back and gently spreads your legs; he watches as his own cum drips out of you before he gently swipes the mix of cum that’s smeared across your pussy, mindful of your sensitive clit. You bask in his touch, feeling like a cat bathing in sunlight as he cleans you up, stroking his hands across your skin.

He gathers you in his arms and continues to murmur praises between kisses and touches. You slowly come back to yourself as he keeps lavishing attention on you, skin warm against his, turning into his touch as your brain starts to flicker back on.

Namjoon brushes his lips against your forehead as your higher thought processes continue to fall back into place, although you’re still a little hazy. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You feel thoroughly fucked out after three back-to-back orgasms and your pussy feels raw and you’re not sure when you’ll next be able to walk in a straight line, but none of those things detract from how fabulous you feel right now. “More than okay. Wow. When I said I wanted you to wreck me, I didn’t realise you’d do such a good job.”

Namjoon smiles at you, and you finally get to indulge yourself, lifting a hand to stroke a finger across his dimples that deepen as you touch them. “I’m always happy to oblige,” he says, and you grin as you brush your nose across his neck, nuzzling into him.

“You really are the best neighbour,” you say. “Did you seriously come over to give me a bunch of hand picked strawberries? That’s what that bag was, right?”

“Of course.” Namjoon’s fingers continue to rub circles into your shoulder. “I thought you deserved a nice treat after a day of chores.”

“Oh, I feel very thoroughly rewarded,” you giggle, before pulling your head back to look Namjoon in the eye. “God. I was so mortified at the beginning, though. I seriously thought I was going to have to pack my bags and move away.”

“The strawberries wouldn’t be enough to persuade you to stay?” Namjoon strokes his knuckles down your cheek before resting his thumb under the swell of your bottom lip, pushing up a little so it looks like you’re pouting at him. “After I spent all afternoon picking them and thinking about you, and how lovely you’d look while you ate them with this pretty little mouth of yours?”

You relax into his touch, letting him rub the pad of his thumb over your lip, all but kissing his finger each time your mouth shapes itself around another word. “You think about me?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Namjoon says, stroking over your lip one last time before cupping your chin in his palm. “I don’t genuinely lose my keys as often as you think I do. Though I do still lose them a lot,” he adds, a little sheepish, and you laugh.

“So you’re saying that if I give you a spare key to my flat, I should have back-ups on hand just in case?” You tease, leaning into the hand that’s cradling your chin. “Good to know.”

“A spare key?” Namjoon looks a little taken aback, and you blink at him.

“Yeah,” you say, like it’s obvious. “Y’know, unless you want me to go back to using the tumble dryer.”

The hand that’s been on your shoulder tightens a little as Namjoon digs his fingers into your skin, possessive. That part of you that’s gone belly up for him preens at the attention, still eager to please him and make him happy, loving the sensation of being so desired by someone who you thought was out of your reach. “No.” Namjoon’s voice is a rumble in his chest. “I’ll make you cum whenever you want, sweetheart.”

“Mm.” You hum quietly before kissing his cheek, and then Namjoon uses the hand under your chin to turn you towards him and presses his mouth softly to yours. “You might regret saying that. I’m very demanding. Starting with this- do you want to go get those strawberries so I can have a taste?” You flutter your lashes at him, and Namjoon chuckles as he indulges you.

You watch the flex of muscles in his thighs and ass as he walks from the room, still in a bit of disbelief that you’ve touched him and kissed him and been so thoroughly fucked by him. Kim Namjoon is a ten course meal (not including drinks or dessert) but here he is, naked on your bed as he feeds you the sweet, ripe strawberries that he picked with his own hands, kissing the taste off your lips between each bite.

You feel utterly pampered and taken care of, reclining against the pillows as Namjoon feeds you another strawberry. You reach out for the largest you can see and return the favour, letting him lick the sweetness off your stained fingers and giggling at the sensation.

“The dryer’s finished its cycle, by the way,” Namjoon says after he’s finished kissing your fingertips.

“That’s nice,” you say as you carefully pick out another strawberry and rest it against the dark red flush of Namjoon’s lips. “But I’m busy feeding the world’s most beautiful man right now, so it can wait.”

Namjoon smiles at you, eyes lovely and warm as he parts his lips to accept the fruit, before leaning down to press his berry stained mouth against your own.

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