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notafunkiller · 6 months

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What if I am too much?

Summary: When Sam's girlfriend calls you clingy, you decide to give Bucky some space. What you don’t know is that he doesn’t want any space. None at all.

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, teasing, language, pet names, spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I want to thank @marvelouslizzie for her help!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“Oh, you’re alone?”

You turn your head in the direction of the voice and smile politely. You don’t recognize this woman, but she looks at you like she does.

“Uh, yes. Hello!”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

You instantly blush, ashamed, and search for Bucky’s face in the crowd. Nowhere to be found. Damn it!

“No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says before coming next to you. “I’m Misty.” Brunette, tall and beautiful.

“Where did we meet?”

“Sam’s birthday, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were too busy clinging to Bucky’s side all night.” She sounds serious, and you freeze, having no idea where this came from. She simply laughs, grabbing your arm with some kind of bionic cold hand for a second before letting it go.

It’s not like Bucky’s. It’s more... robotic.

“Clinging?” You ask confused.

“Yeah, you know, always sitting with him, holding his arm, following him around.”

You puff, already annoyed by this random woman. “Following him around? I’m not a dog!”

“Didn’t say you are a dog, honey. Just pointing out the obvious.”

You try to hold your tongue, pushing aside the impulse to start a fight. This is a night about Bucky. Not you or your discomfort. And she is his ex-co-worker-friend’s girlfriend. Your anger can wait.

“Alright, but how does my clinging affect you, though?”

“Oh, don’t take it so personally! I just meant to be friendly. It’s a girl’s advice. Live a little, being insecure is not gonna save your relationship.”

A piece of advice no one asked for. A take you never even considered. You’re not insecure and you’re definitely not keeping Bucky to your side all the time. You don’t… He is free to do whatever the hell he wants.

“Thank you.”

She has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t be so defensive, honey! Gonna get a cocktail, want some?”

You shake your head, feeling a hole in your stomach after she leaves you alone, and you basically run to the bathroom, trying to calm down. What if she is right, though? What if Sam heard or saw something? Maybe Bucky is extra grumpy or unhappy. Maybe he even complained…

You never thought sitting with Bucky is a sign of clinginess. You thought it’d help... he is not the most comfortable person at events. He gets stared at a lot, he hates small talk, and you really like being close to him. Gosh, you are clingy!

The rest of the night passes like a blur. When you come back, Bucky’s waiting for you, and despite your instinct to wrap your arm around his back and let him hold you, you keep a little distance, giving Sam and his nosy girlfriend a fake smile, while Bucky keeps staring at you strangely.

You even manage to avoid touching him all week somehow, except for a few kisses now and then. Your period came, and as he tried to hold you, you had to fight tears while telling him not to. You’re sick and tired and you miss him, but you want to give him some space. You’ve been suffocating him for so long... You make sure to cry only when he’s out because he might hear you even in the shower. He has super hearing after all.

You thought it would become easier every day, but quite the opposite. Every time you’re close to giving up, you remember Sam’s comment that he made a week after you met him about how Bucky always likes his space and what Misty told you, so you fight against your wish.

Until Sunday afternoon.

You’re in bed, scrolling down on Instagram as Bucky comes out of the shower. You try not to stare at him, but how can you not? He looks absolutely incredible.

What you don’t expect is him trying to get on top of you to tickle you with a huge smile on his face. He’s so adorable.

“B-Bucky, stop!” You laugh as his hands get under your T-shirt. He loves making you laugh no matter how he does it. “N-no.”

“Oh, I will,” he says playfully.

But what he failed to tell you is that stopping means sneaking his head under your T-shirt, which starts to rip a little because of the stretch, and resting it on your boobs.

“Bucky!”

He puffs, annoyed. “Why the fuck are you wearing a bra in the house, bubba?”

“Cause it’s a bra?” You ask back sarcastically, but you know this is weird. You always complain about needing to wear it outside. But inside? It’s even worse.

“Unacceptable.” He quickly rips your bra in half, not bothering to unhook it, and you feel his beard on your breast all of a sudden, making you shiver. Fuck, you really miss this.

“B-Bucky, come on, your hair is a little wet!”

“Bubba, please...”

“Bucky! Why did you do that?” He immediately takes his head out of your T-shirt, and you almost cry. He looks do lost and scared.

“Baby, do you not want me anymore?”

“What the fuck?” You groan. This is the last thing you wanted him to think. All you tried to do was to make him happy and feel less pressured.

“You don’t let me touch you. You don’t want to cuddle with me. You don’t wake me up with kisses. You don’t get on top of me You don’t hug me! What did I do?”

Your heart aches for both of you. “Wasn’t that better?”

“Better for who?” He cries. “This was the worst week of my life since Hydra.”

“Unfortunately, that cannot be true, Bucky.” You sigh, getting closer to him. “I thought you like space...”

“I do, but not with my fucking baby!”

You melt at his words, truth be told. He said it so passionately, but you’re so confused.

“I thought I was being too clingy, touching you too much, you know?”

“What? Where did this come from?”

You close your eyes. How are you supposed to answer this without sounding like a petty bitch?

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!” You feel his hands grabbing your face so you can look at him. “It means I did something wrong.”

You frown, upset that he thinks that. He’s been nothing but kind, understanding, and loving to you, and you hate how he feels like he failed you or something.

“Sam’s girlfriend told me I am clingy... always with you, never leaving you alone to breathe basically. And it reminded me of Sam saying how much you love your space, and I just...” You try not to cry, you really do, but you cannot hold back the tears this time, which Bucky immediately reaches to wipe with his flesh fingers.

“Jesus, baby! I don’t give a goddamn shit about what they say, you aren’t allowed to listen to anyone! Just let me touch you.”

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky lifts you a bit so you can sit on his lap. You can hear his heartbeat, and you find that so peaceful.

“I thought you’re gonna break up with me, honey.” He whispers in your ear. “I was terrified when you didn’t let me cuddle with you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” You don’t know what else to say. You hurt both of you for days just because you let some woman get inside your head, but you had good intentions. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

“I should be the one saying that, not you, bubba.” He leaves a kiss on your shoulder. “God, I missed you so much, it feels surreal to touch you.”

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

“Promise to never do this shit ever again!”

“I’ll try,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize you want me to touch you so much.”

Bucky lifts your head. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”

“Punish me?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah, for believing some stranger over your man. For pulling away and giving me a heart attack. And for depriving yourself of my cuddling skills.”

You giggle. “What if I let you suck my nipples for a whole week anytime you wanted?”

“I already do that!” Bucky lifts your T-shirt as he speaks, and you gasp.

“You do not!”

“Yes, I do. Remember when I came home from the last mission and I made you come by-” He lowers his head and licks your right breast, avoiding your nipple.

“Fuck you, tease!”

“I am the tease?!” He snorts, continuing to lick.

“You’re always the tease. Now kiss me and gimmie your cock.”

“I won’t give you anything until I punish you.”

“Jamie!” You scream when he turns you around, ripping off your shorts in half, along with your underwear before placing you on his thighs. “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck to you for keeping yourself away from me.” You feel him caressing your ass for a few seconds before slapping your right cheek with his flesh hand. You squirm, gripping into his hip.

“F-fuck!”

“Count.”

You groan. “Jamie...” He spanks you again but harder, and this time you moan. “T-two.”

“Nope, we start over.”

“O-one.”

“Good girl!”

The third and fourth aren’t as hard as you want and you find yourself wiggling your ass in the air.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” He snorts, amused, and before he can bring his flesh hand in the air, you grab his metal arm.

“Please, daddy, use this one!”

Daddy? It didn’t take too long for you to get back in the mood.

“Can’t use it, baby, I’m sorry.”

“No!” You cry. “I need it, pleaseee. I’ll ride your face as many times as you w-want.”

Bucky still doesn’t agree. “Baby, it would hurt.”

“Let it hurt!”

You want it to hurt because this pain is not unbearable, quite the opposite. It pushes you over the edge faster.

He sighs and listens to you, bringing his metal hand to your ass, but you barely even feel it when he slaps. You groan, upset.

“I said slap! Do you want me to hover?”

“I can fucking hurt you.”

“I told you to hurt me!” You beg. “Please, honey! Please, please, please.”

He does it again, not hard enough for you, but you count anyway. Again and again.

“Jesus, you’re making my thighs so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”

“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”

Bucky’s moan comes somehow from the back of his throat, and the last spanks are perfect. He gently caresses your ass, cooling it off with his metal hand, and you smile. “You’re so dirty sometimes, but also such a good girl taking your punishment perfectly.”

“I am sorry,” you whisper.

“For what exactly?”

You pout, grabbing his face. “For all of it. But you’re you, Bucky. You’re the greatest guy in the world, I just didn’t want to be annoying.”

“You were annoying when you didn’t let me even hug you.”

You know that, but sometimes you can’t help but do dumb things, thinking about him. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“Well, I wasn’t happy, obviously. And neither were you, bubba. Promise me you’ll talk to me first next time.”

“I was just stupid…”

“No.” You feel his thumb all over your lips. “You were worried. I love you and I really need your touch, okay?”

“I noticed,” you laugh.

“Good, now feed me my boobs, and then I wanna see you riding my face as you negotiated.”

You fake sigh and grab your boob. “Open up.”

You’re not sure how to react when Bucky drags you straight to Sam and his girlfriend as soon as you get inside the museum.

“Hey, Buck-”

“Who do you think you are?”

Misty gasps while Sam and you freeze.

“Wow, wow, wow, man. Hold on a sec, what is going on?”

“What is going on, Samuel?” Bucky asks rhetorically through his teeth. “Ask your little girlfriend where she got her audacity from to tell my girl she is clingy. That she basically spends too much time with me. Who the fuck gave her the permission to even speak to her? So she either apologizes and keeps her mouth shut, or we’ll have a big problem.” Bucky turns his head to look at Misty. “From one metal arm to another. Wanna try me?”

“You did what? What the hell?”

Misty frowns, staring at you. “You went to complain to him for giving you a friendly, harmless advice?”

Bucky instantly grabs her metal arm wrist before you can answer.

“You got three seconds to beg for her forgiveness before I snap your hand in half. And I am not bluffing.”

Sam doesn’t even try to get between them, simply watching, and Misty immediately gets teary.

“I’m... sorry.”

Bucky shakes his head, squeezing her wrist. Holy shit! You haven’t seen him like this in ages. “Didn’t hear you.”

“I am sorry. I should have minded my own business!”

“Yes, you should’ve,” you say without regret. “But I forgive you.”

Bucky lets go with a grunt before nodding to Sam and bringing his hand to your hips, leading you toward the exit.

As soon as you are outside, you don’t even care if someone can hear you as you speak. “Fuck, I wanna suck your cock so badly!”

Bucky laughs. “I see. In the car… is that okay for you?”

You get on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Perfect.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #my stories #my fanfics

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stevebabey · 7 months

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Eddie is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever reach a point where Steve couldn’t reduce him to this state.

This state being… transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, he’d probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.

But Eddie can’t move his eyes. Can’t even close his mouth either.

Steve’s talking to him too, which is most definitely worse — he’s totally missing every word. He can see Steve’s lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.

Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?

Or is it Eddie, just a starved man who’s been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, he’s learning, he’s allowed to look.

And by God, is he looking.

Steve’s not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when he’s cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddie’s lingering gaze.

This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.

He’s got some old sport shorts on and he’s clearly grown a bit since he first got them— unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They haven’t. Eddie would know if they did.)

He’s wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. It’s a little on the scrappy side though, considering it’s nearly see-through with how worn it is.

Honestly, in Eddie’s humble and gay opinion, it’s stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steve’s chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesn’t make Eddie happy, he doesn’t know what will.

But it’s not even that.

Quite frankly, Eddie’s rather embarrassed that he’s basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.

But… but he’s yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motions— that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.

Eddie can’t stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and he’s not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steve’s tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie can’t help imagining how they must look when Steve’s got his hand aroun—

“—hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Steve’s voice cuts into Eddie’s dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. It’s the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steve’s arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.

“Hello.” Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. “I mean- yes. I’m—”

Eddie decides mid-sentence that he’s not getting away with the lie. He pivots. “Okay, no, I didn’t hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?”

Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but there’s an adoring grin on his lips.

“Man of mine,” Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. “You just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? I’m just doing this room then I’ll be done, if you don’t like the noise.”

Eddie adores that Steve’s taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.

“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. “I’m just gonna…”

He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (he’s unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.

It’s mortifying. It’s hilarious. He can never tell Steve.

Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie can’t help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.

He decides it’s worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.

Steve teasingly promises that he’ll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddie’s abject reaction (“Don’t you dare.”) looking far too smug— in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.

Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steve’s lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.

Eddie doesn’t mind — he’s too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.

#have; the thought i’ve been having every time i vacuum #i’m one of those bitches who just like pulls out the cord the whole way when i start #and now i say so is steve #just a lil ficlet to get my writing brain up again #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #it’s always just fluff with me innit #<3 #i dunno how active we all still are…… 🧐#guess i’ll find out

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hearts4renaa · 2 months

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HE IS IN LOVE.

summary: things the bsd men do that show how in love with you he is. featuring atsushi, akutagawa, dazai, chuuya, ranpo, and kunikida

contains: fluff, gender neutral reader. based off of “you are in love” by taylor swift

a/n: ahhh bsd they could never make me forget about you. reblogs are always appreciated <3

you can hear it in the silence. you can feel it on the way home. you can see it with the lights out. you are in love. true love.

—

he says “look up”, and your shoulders brush.

ATSUSHI points out anything and everything that is even slightly related to your relationship. you could be walking down the streets together and he’d suddenly point at a restaurant sign while talking excitedly, “remember how we had our first date there?!” or he’d point at a mannequin in a window and go “the color of the shirt is like those shoes you wore at ___!!” he loves you so evidently that you seep into everything he sees. for him, the world has never been so colorful.

—

no proof, one touch. but you felt enough.

AKUTAGAWA squeezes your hand three times to tell you he loves you. he’s fully aware it’s cliche as hell, but that’s never deterred him. he squeezes your hand at the most random times too. talking to a cashier? i love you. watching a film at your place? i love you. cooking in your kitchen? i love you. he may not always tell you with words, but akutagawa never fails to remind you that he loves you. you are always his favorite thing to think about.

—

morning, his place. burnt toast, sunday.

DAZAI wakes you up with three things: a kiss, a coffee, and an attempt at breakfast. keyword: attempt. bro cannot cook for shit, and he knows it, so he ends up just making you toast. it’s either barely toasted or it’s burnt, no in between. but, your coffee is always exactly how you like it, and he makes sure to write you a cheesy little note no matter what. the giggles you have at the sight of his toast makes up for the tiny bit of embarrassment he feels for still not having the toast method down. he loves you, and he knows you’ll always love him, no matter how shitty his cooking is.

—

you keep his shirt. he keeps his word.

CHUUYA swears to you before every mission that he’ll come back home to you. and he never fails. you are always on his mind, no matter how much danger he is in. he makes sure to fight long and hard if it means that at the end of the day, he gets to be in your arms. it even works for simpler things, like if he was too lazy to fill out his reports. all he has to do is remember that you’re at home waiting for him, and that gives him all the motivation he needs. they say home is where the heart is, and his heart belongs to you.

—

you two are dancing in a snow-globe round and round.

RANPO spontaneously dances with you whenever he thinks the atmosphere is pretty. when the first snowfall hit, he brought you out to dance. when there was a soft shower of summer rain, he brought you out to dance. when the sun shone through the clouds, he brought you out to dance. he doesn’t care about the lack of music or coordination. you could step on each other’s feet a thousand times, but he’d still wear the same joyous smile. no matter the weather, no matter how bad his feet might hurt after. he always thinks you’re the most beautiful when you’re dancing with him.

—

and he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown.

KUNIKIDA has a little corner on his desk in the agency’s office basically dedicated to you. he has little trinkets you’ve given to him all laid out nicely, along with his favorite picture of you all framed. dazai teases him every time he walks by. kunikida tells him off each time, but he never removes anything off his desk. he glances at your picture every time he feels a little burnt out or tired. you keep him grounded, in a sense. you remind him about the reason why he’s doing all of this in the first place. there is good in the world. he knows that the world can be good because you were good to him. and he can only hope he’s been as good to you.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #atsushi x reader #ranpo x reader #akutagawa x reader #kunikida x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #ryunosuke akutagawa x reader #atsushi nakajima x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #kunikida doppo x reader #he is in love

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reticent-writer · 3 months

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Hey! Well, actually, I really like the set of stories about Teen!Reader and Alostor where the reader is classified as an assistant, I would like a story that shows how they met and how they get to the point where they consider him an assistant and their confidence to say him dad? Thank you, I'm sorry if the request was very long. (Writing this I remembered the fight Alastor and Lucifer had over Charlie about who she calls Dad, I felt it would still be a good scenario for indignation)

An: I had a storyboard for this exact thing but its messy and if you don't know me you probably wouldn't understand how my mind works but basically i have ocs for this

This took a bit longer because it happens before Alastor and reader dies plus I gave reader a family so...... some basic info

Y/n was born into a family that was picture perfect on the outside

father was a factory worker Mother was a dressmaker

Doll House by Melanie Martinez fits them perfectly

Y/n was the middle child of 5

When Y/n was born the eldest (Atticus boy) was 10, Second eldest 6 (Alma girl), Middle child (y/n)

when y/n turned 4 their parents had twins (Giles boy, Gideon boy)

This is a glimpse into my mind. It might not make sense.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

-1920-

Y/n is 10.

Your parents were perfectionists, especially when it came to the public eye. The L/n family was always the center of attention in your little town, deep in Louisiana.

You and your siblings were constantly dressed in Sunday's best.

"Kids make yourselves look presentable. A client is coming soon." Your mother called out from her 'workspace'. kids aren't allowed in there.

"Can't we just stay in our rooms." Atticus complained from his spot on the couch.

"Get. Dressed."

Atticus groaned as he got up to go to his room. On his way, he knocked on your door before opening it.

"You're supposed to wait for a response, Jackass."

"Next time you curse at me I'm poppin' you." He threatened but you knew he wouldn't do anything, "Mom said get dressed, tell Alma."

He closed the door before you could complain. You heard the shuffling of his feet as he ran to his room.

His room was at the end of the hall. the hall was short with 2 doors on each side. Alma was across from you and the twins were next to her.

Right across from your room is Alma's. She's going into her preteen years and started to spend more time in her room. Your mother says she's adjusting to becoming a woman and needs her time alone. She's also becoming very snappy.

You slowly opened your door to stare at hers. You slowly walk into the hallway and up to her door. You knock three time and wait for a responce. She didn't open the door.

"I heard Atticus." Her voice was horse and strained but you believed what your mother told you.

That was all you needed to get yourself ready.

-------

Your mother made all (except for Alma) of you sit in the living room and wait for the client.

*knock knock knock*

"He's here. You better behave." She says before opening the door with a smile only guests see, "Alastor, It's so good to see you again."

"Good to see you to, my dear and my my look at the children. They all seem to be in good health." He greeted all of you with a smile.

"Hello sir." Atticus spoke for all of you.

"You seem to be missing one." Alastor commented, making your mother chuckle.

"She's been feeling under the weather as of late, come along I need to take your measurements. Atticus, Y/n prepare some tea." She ordered.

Alastor and your mother went to her workspace and she shut the door.

----------

That night went smoothly until your father got home. He didn't like the fact that your mother was in her workspace with a man and the door closed, even if he was a client.

It caused fighting -well more than there normally is anyway- between your mother and father. It's always been easy to make your father mad.

It got worse when Alastor took notice of it he came by more often with the excuse of having gifts for you and your siblings.

He gave you a radio to listen to him when he went on air. Atticus was offered a job at the radio station. Alma got a set of jewelry.

This angered your father more and instead of taking it out on Alastor or your mother he took it out on you and your siblings. Atticus tried to protect all of you.

One day your father and Atticus got into a really bad fight and your brother was shot. He didn't make it.

It was around the same time when a horrid smell started coming from Alma's room. Your parents said she caught a fever and no one noticed but you didn't believe them anymore.

From then on you started distancing yourself from your family and growing closer to Alastor.

--------

When you got older (16) you started working with alastor at the radio station. He taught you how to live life without worry.

He treats you like your a person and not just your parent's child.

Your parents treated you like a decoration. Alastor treated you like a child he didn't know he wanted.

You found out he was a murder by accident. You forgot someone at the station late at night and went back to get it to see blood spattered in the talking booth.

At first you thought it was Alastors so you took a gun that the station had in case of emergencies and followed the trail.

Opening the back door you saw Alastor dragging the body. The two of you made eye contact. Your body moved without hesitation and helped him hide the body.

------

Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

This is long and not what I usually write but it's been stuck in my head for a while.

A/n: I've decided to cut the twins and make y/n the youngest. I had something for them originally but it's better for just Alma, Atticus and Y/n

Art by @ghostly-one

#male reader #female reader #gn reader #child reader #x child reader #teen reader #platonic #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #reticent writes #reticent writer

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ph4ngz · 1 year

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BACKSEAT LOVE || mechanic!bkg x anxious!reader

PART 1

A/N : ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED YOU GUYS *HAPPY DANCE* :D

It's been two days since your last encounter with that gorgeous mechanic.

You'd be lying if you said he hadn't been the subject of your dreams, daydreams, wet dreams… all you can think about is him. Him and that perfect face, you still remember every splatter of grease and oil laid out on his features, you think you may have burnt the image into your brain.

His card is right there in the pocket of your denim shorts, just begging you to pull it out and stare at it for the nth time this Sunday morning. Your legs kick up and down on the bed as you lay on your tummy, doing nothing to help your friends pack up and get ready to leave the motel. Glancing back up at them, your eyes only seem to lose focus and any thoughts of packing your bags are, surprise, replaced by a certain blonde.

You wanted to call him, you really did. Would it be odd to show up at his garage again after two days without contact? It's possible you've missed your chance with him now that you've basically been ignoring the guy. You could pretend something is wrong with your car as an excuse to apologise! Nah, because then he'd check it out...

"Whatcha thinkin' about babe?" A mischievous, high pitched voice and a bounce of your mattress breaks you out of your inner struggle.

"I wanna see him…" you admit, realising too late that you hadn’t told your friends about Katsuki.

"See who?" Another voice, much more softer than Mina's, pipes up. Not many things can grasp Jiro's attention, but regarding you and boys…

Oh god, here we go. You and your stupid brain. There's no escaping this nonsense now. You can already hear the giggling and terrible impressions and they haven't even started yet.

But really, should you tell them about him? There'd be nothing wrong with that! However, something is telling you to keep him all to yourself. Jealousy? Panic? Perhaps he's so perfect that you're wary of other better girls stealing him away from you?

"Oh, just this guyyy, y'know… just this guy who gave her his number? And he’s a mechanic by the looks of things." Mina reads off the card he had given you that day, you having been completely unaware that she'd swiped it from your pockets until now.

"Hey!" You squirm under her weight, an elbow leaning on you as if you were an armchair as she carries on.

"Is he hot? What does he look like?" Jiro grins and leaps onto the mattress beside Mina, and before too long Uraraka is straddling your lower back, keeping you pinned down.

"Is he like one of those guys in the movies? Like, all sweaty and dirty and dreamy with a nice smile…" Uraraka's eyes trail upward to the spinning ceiling fan as she describes your mechanic with deadly accuracy.

Your eyes widen involuntarily.

"AH! Ochaco's right! You've gotta go see him again! Did he ask you out? Have you called him?" Mina squeals beside you, but then her face falls into a state of great suspense.

You know what's coming now. Sigh.

"Don't tell me you pulled one of your specials…" she guesses ominously, referring to your notorious moments of Boy Anxiety™.

Jiro smiles menacingly from behind her, "D-D-Did you?"

You find a smidge of respect for Uraraka for not joining in although you know she wants to. Rolling your eyes, you respond with a muffled "almost" after throwing your head into the covers out of embarrassment.

The hyperactive trio share a quick, knowing glance and simultaneously drown out the click-clacking of the old fan airing the motel room with a loud "AAHHH", Uraraka shaking your shoulders and Mina slapping the bed sheets.

"Where did you even find that anyways?" Jiro asks softly amidst the noise.

"It was hiding in one of her ass pockets." The pink haired thief replies proudly, jokingly smacking your asscheek and making it jiggle as your face heats up, still concealed by the covers.

The girls gossip about you as if you're not even there, and you decide you're perfectly fine with that if it means nobody is nagging you, so you let them talk. A few minutes pass by without a single word leaving your mouth until a finger messily taps on your bare shoulder.

Craning your head around to rest atop of your crossed arms, you shamefully eye the cutie straddling your back, internally smiling at the way her fringe is tied back on top of her head.

"Mm?" you hum groggily, awaiting her next words.

"I can always ask 'Zuku to give us all a ride home...?"

Your grumpy pout swiftly fades into a light and appreciative curl of your lips at her suggestion...

"...We aren't the only ones goin' for a ride today-"

...But soon enough the grumpy pout returns.

Excited cackling, thumping of dancing feet upon the floor and a group rendition of "tryna' catch me ridin' dirty" that is least to be desired fill the small room.

"UGHHughhhUGhhhhh," You exhale a tired groan into the back of your forearm, a wavering one at that, courtesy of Uraraka twirling an imaginary lasso in her hand and rocking back and forth on you like she's at a rodeo.

Eventually, an amused grin makes its way onto your face, with their antics (Mina's horrific excuse for dancing) too hilarious to even attempt keeping a straight face.

|| || || ||

"Oh, so you know Kacchan?" Izuku Midoriya's question almost has you jump as you open the car door to your driver's seat, curse him from coming up behind you like that.

"Who?" you furrow your brows innocently, your back pocket feeling particularly empty for some odd reason. You subtly glance behind the mess of green hair partially blocking your view at the three of your friends singing along to the radio in the backseat of his car.

"Whoops, sorry! I meant Katsuki." The thick fingers suddenly shoved in your confused face hold and point at a certain card you'd only just pried from someones grabby hands. God, this guy too!? Is everybody here a damn pickpocket?

Hastily snatching the card from Izuku's hand, you stutter an unnerved answer, "U-Uh! Yeah! No! I mean, we only met the other day, that's all..."

No way this bastard is going back in my pocket, you think.

"No need to freak out, promise I'm not being nosy or anything. I was just wondering, seeing as me and him are... I guess you could say childhood friends! He's actually doing some work on my Jeep, hence the basic rent-out. I knowww, I don't look like a Ford guy." He drawls on cheerfully, ignoring how you stuff the card inside your bra. You smirk at his choice to disregard your actions, and force down the invasive questions you so badly want to ask concerning your beloved mechanic.

"You better go before the girls set up a makeshift concert venue in the trunk." Beaming, you gesture to his bouncing vehicle.

"Shit, you're right. Ah, it was nice seeing you again!" Izuku waves whilst stumbling backwards, making you stifle a giggle whilst lowering into your own car.

|| || || ||

Pesky butterflies erupt within your chest when you finally pull over, the garage you so thankfully came across on your way to the motel stood conspicuously along the deserted highway. The garage door is shut this time around, the worn metal glinting under the aureate setting sun. However, the smaller door located at the side of the run-down building displays a twisted 'open' sign hanging behind the chalky window.

You've done it before, you can do it again. That's what you repeat to yourself inside your head as you hesitantly exit your car and approach the door. After a two minute standoff between your nervousness and the handle, you decide "fuck it!" and let yourself inside. You peer out from behind a brick wall separating the entrance from the main garage and it's nice, just like last time. Slow guitar and heavy bass emitting from what sounds like a vintage cassette boombox, the strong scent of gasoline and copper, fake potted plants hung up in every empty wall space unoccupied by shelves and posters, a huge dusty jeep... you can't see him though.

He's still here, you can hear a few faint grunts and the clanking of metal from beyond your place leant against the doorframe. You wonder, is he fixing some other girl's car? What if he isn't groaning for the reasons you think? The garage door is closed. Is somebody here with him? You're probably stupid for coming here after two days with no contact, he's most likely fallen for someone else thinking you would never come back. Subconscious curiosity leads you into the main room, fretful thoughts diminishing with no wall allowing your train of thought to stray from its tracks.

"Katsuki?-"

Your meek call of his name dies out on your tongue when the man himself emerges from behind the raised hood of the jeep with a "hm?". He's still as breathtaking as you remember, you reminisce about your last encounter whilst he's approaching you, his heavy booted feet seeming to send vibrations to your racing heart.

Your knees weaken when you realise the mechanic threw off putting a shirt on this time, specks of splattered oil glistening on his hard abs underneath the warm sunset rays filtering through the blinds. Forcing yourself to pay attention to his face instead of rudely ogling at his body, you come to find that he's secured his scruffy hair back with a clip, just like Uraraka, allowing you to view all of his features. He's been observing you for about a minute now, silently enjoying the way you're studying him as if he were a stone sculpture. Just give him a second, he'll say something eventually.

"Voice disappear or somethin'?" He asks cheekily, the sudden movement of a smirk emerging on his face breaking you out of whatever pesky trance you fell into.

"Oh! Uh, no! No, it's here! I can speak… yeah…" You spew a panicked sentence that would've been incoherent if you'd forced it out any harder. The anxious smile you’re wearing slowly fades as you start to chew on the inside of your cheek, nostrils flaring at how self aware you've become. Gosh, you're so stupid. Why can't you just speak like a normal person!? Stuttering and stumbling all over your words like this must look really sad. You hurl a mental slap at your face, scolding yourself for being so pathetic. Bakugo chuckles through his nose at your timid state and lightly scratches his bare stomach, deciding his next move. A big hand impulsively moves to your bare upper arm, mindlessly stroking your soft skin with his thumb for a short moment.

"Chill, it's just me. Stop acting like 'm gonna turn around and kill you." The man says casually with his usually downturned brows raised in amusement, removing his arm from you to take a few steps back and continue his work behind the jeep's hood. It's just him? JUST HIM? Being killed doesn't seem to be at the top of your list of worries right now, but the possibility increases as you're starting to picture your heart failing on the spot purely because of his existence. How are you supposed to "chill" when the sight of his broad, shiny, tanned, firm chest is enough to coax your eyes to roll back?!

You're thinking so damn hard about what to say as he's working, but nothing is good enough. Maybe you should leave and apologise, save your last ounce of self confidence. Maybe you should tell him the truth about your little anxiety issue. Nah, he wouldn't get it. Would he? Before you can stop yourself, a few words come tumbling out of your mouth to form the most unexpected question that leaves yourself dumbfounded.

"C-Can I kiss you?"

You stop breathing once Bakugo peers at you from behind the metal, mildly surprised and overwhelmed by your sudden request. That was fuckin' quick, he muses. Amidst a moment of fleeting courage, you will yourself to continue even if it's dizzying due to your heart beating a million miles per second.

"I’m sorry. I wanted to call you. Or at least— text you! I got so nervous and my friends all make fun of me whenever I talk to a guy so—"

"C'mere." The blonde gestures with his free hand while the other supports his leaning weight by pressing his palm upon the edge of the hood, spanner held tightly between his fingers. Now or never, you chant to occupy your brain. Head hanging low, you do as he says and come to a halt when only a few inches are left between your bare arm and his. Without another word to spare, Bakugo takes hold of your waist and veers your body to the tight space in front of him, caging you in. You fit underneath the metal canopy, the jeep's ginormous wheels providing some serious height. You're still staring intently at the dirty concrete area uncovered by either of your feet, unknowing of how to react.

The boombox in the corner of the room provides the only sound other than your ragged breathing, the music doing its best job to calm your nerves. You want this. You want this so bad, so don't fuck it up. Just move your damn head, that's it! Tears eventually cloud your vision, but before they can drip to the ground your chin is nudged upwards, letting the salty droplets slide down your heated cheeks. You're forced to look him in the eye whilst his heavy touch travels to the top of your muddled head, narrowed crimson gaze boring into your own, guilty and utterly captivated.

When he gently pulls you in by the nape of your neck, and his surprisingly soft lips make contact with yours... it's like all energy is drained from your body. As you kiss, you find your weakening form melting into his broad and hard chest, gradually tipping closer and closer until your bodies are pressed against one another's. Any thoughts previously occupying your mind have vanished without a trace, brain completely blank and depending entirely on the feeling of instinct. You're both sighing contently through your noses, each noise emitted from one has the other deepen the slanting of their mouth until a tinge of ferocity is thrown into the mix.

Your knees buckle abruptly at one point and breaks the kiss in a way that's too depriving of elation to bear, although Bakugo doesn't appear to care that much as he urgently hoists you up by your thighs to recklessly brush all the nuts and bolts strewn across his desk and replace them with your ass instead. A smile appears on the man's face when he catches your shoulders jerk at the reverberating clangour of metal hitting the floor. He situates himself further between your legs after making sure to shield the back of your head from the wall, worried that he'll hurt you with his ungentlemanly tendencies. His heavy breathing is causing your brows to bow in a state of pure bliss, the occasional grunt he sounds causing your jaw to go slack.

The amorous mechanic takes advantage of this and hungrily slips his tongue past your plumped lips to slither in tandem with yours for a while, evoking a muffled and greatly pleasured sob to escape into his mouth more than once, all of which he gladly engraves deep within his memory before yanking you forward by the waist once again, this time positioning your lower half close-packed and pressed to his hips. Bakugo is panting once he separates his face from yours, directing an avid ruby-red glance your way before lowering his head beside your neck.

The summer air is so hot, laced with the scent of diesel and unrivalled desire. Everything is surreal. The moody, crackly guitar in the background, the setting sun decorating the paint-splattered walls with strips of gold, the mess of blonde untamed locks you're tugging on brushing along the line of your jaw. His eagerness is evident with how rushed and sloppily his tongue glides across your skin, teeth providing harsh nibbles just under your ear and his lips hurriedly ghosting over any areas left untouched so he can suck on them hard enough to leave an instant bruise.

He's got his hands beneath your loose tank top, thick and skilled fingers splayed out and exploring every inch of your arching back. The hefty, warm touch backtracks to run over the goosebumps that had formed in its wake, sending intense shivers all throughout your limp form that have the muscles in his arms vibrate with your shaky movements. Venturing lower, Bakugo drags his palms all the way to your hips, almost drooling at how your soft flesh juts out the slightest bit above the hem of your denim shorts. He's acting hastily, like he's been set a deadline, moving to skim his thumbs over your ribs to the ticklish area below the cups of your bra.

Both of your bodies are rolling into each other now, sweat glazing the skin left uncovered by your clothes. The dim lamp and other miscellaneous items rocking back and forth on the desk struggle to stay upright or in place when every brusque, heedless motion of the mechanic's hips comes paired with the sheer power of desperation. Before you know it, he's fervently sucking on your tongue once more with a steel grip cupping the back of your bent knees, blunt nails digging in and making you uncontrollably exhale breathy whimpers that have his ears almost twitching to hear more.

Mixed saliva is coating your lips, an outcome of paying less attention to the kiss when your abdomen started to clench with anticipation. Confidence still a bit on the wobbly side, you take his bottom lip in your teeth and lightly tug on it as you pull away for breath, earning a pleased, sexy open-mouthed groan from Bakugo. Neither of you have opened your eyes in a while, much too focused on experiencing every overwhelmingly delectable feeling as they come. Jaws too tired to close your mouths, the taller man decides to give a harder thrust of his lower half and revels in the little gasps you reward him with, the growing bulge filling the space between your plush thighs gyrating into your pulsing core just right.

Long fingers abruptly spread out over your bra, opting for a quick squeeze before eagerly unhooking the clasp and greedily taking a handful of your bare tits from underneath the loosened cups. It seems he can't be bothered to seductively throw it to the ground like in the movie scenes Uraraka forced you to watch on YouTube earlier. And yet I prefer that, you smile to yourself and let out an erotic moan when your excited mechanic's huge palms rub your nipples. The sudden stimulation coaxes your inner walls to aimlessly contract, as if they're yearning to clench around the hardening, clothed length relentlessly grinding on you. His teeth return to the marked surface of your neck.

The steady speed and strength Bakugo infuses his thrusts with is impressive and you would probably be wondering how he hasn't wasted all of his energy if his hard-on wasn't consistently nudging the thick material of your shorts into your clit, the pressure so perfect it's dangerously close to maddening. The swollen bud throbs urgently at the sensation, a warning which you take notice of a mere second too late. The loud, repetitive knocking of wood swiftly being forced into solid bricks only serves to pull on the knot within your abdomen until only a single fraying thread remains intact. Not for long though, all it takes is simply a short and gruff "fuck" from the focused mans chest to snap it.

"Nnnguh!" your muscles tense instantly as you abruptly cry out, barely managing to yank him in further with the heels of your sneakers pushing at his ass. Bakugo hurriedly opens his eyes, vision blurred a bit when he moves to watch your features scrunch up under the control of absolute ecstasy. Although he's pleasantly surprised by your sudden release, his hips keep moving under the greedy pressure of your feet. Soon enough, your facial expression morphs into one of wide glossy eyes and quivering lips following the slow disappearance of your orgasm. He's smitten, without a doubt. Looking down at you like you're the one he's been looking for all his life, almost melancholic with the unmistakeable glint of rapture prominent in the pretty red rings of his gaze.

"Jesus, what brought that on?" he teases with raised, bushy brows. Ready for an embarrassed excuse, one that he'll remember forever. You’re out of breath already, one orgasm enough to render you far gone, too far gone to watch your words. You see the way he’s looking at you all expectantly, waiting for a reason to pick on you and make you burn up. If he wants an answer, he can have one.

"You, you did." your response has the mechanic blushing like a mad man, the three words prompting a sudden few drops of pre-cum to leak into the fabric of his underwear. Acting as nonchalantly as possible, Bakugo clears his throat and straightens his slumped posture with a try hard grin.

"That so." His voice is a smidge softer than before as he contemplates ripping off your clothes and going at you right then and there. The soggy feeling of his boxers rubbing against the sensitive tip of his cock serves as a reminder. A reminder that he's not the type to hold back when he's inside. ...Alright, he'll wait for you, just let him wash away the oily mess painting his hands first. Hastily propping you up so that you don’t fall, he orders you a quick "sit" then rushes to the sink stationed opposite from you.

You scoff at your own impatience whilst you're unbuttoning the shorts hugging your waist, something that Bakugo catches on his way back to you. "Someone's excited," he murmurs like it's second nature and gestures to you with dripping hands. "Take em' off for me."

Choosing to let his attitude slide, you obey willingly. You hardly get to finish removing the denim before your mechanic is pouncing on you akin to a wildcat, bared fangs hovering just below your navel then hungrily clamping down on the lacy material of your panties. It's fucking delicious, the manner in which the man prises the lace waistband away to release it unexpectedly, letting it snap upon the hypersensitive skin with an addictive sting. A devilish smile plays on the man's lips, the adorable sounds you bless him with doing nothing to lessen the discomfort between his legs.

Taking your underwear in his teeth again, he repeats his last actions. However, the stretching fabric doesn’t make contact with your abdomen this time around, instead they're being dragged just below your knees. Ah, you see. Your restricting panties leave enough space for his head to fit between your thighs, but they don't allow you to spread them any further. Swollen clit pulsing, you grip the edge of the desk tighter with anticipation as Bakugo lifts your legs to situate himself underneath and rests them on his broad shoulders.

"Hngh, please please please~" you whine for him whilst twirling strands of his hair with antsy hands. A genuine laugh from the mechanic blows a few puffs of cool air directly over your pussy and the abrupt change in temperature has your body rolling closer in hopes that his mouth will bring more heat. His fingers are still wet with water as they refrain from touching the top of your thighs, the droplets cooling your skin when they land.

"Gah—!" a pathetic, surprised gasp evoked from you makes the blonde's heart melt into a puddle. Did you think he was going to warn you with a sweet kitten lick? Who do you think he is? Of course he'd start with a harsh suck on your clit. Your grip loosens in Bakugo's locks when he opts to suck and flick his tongue simultaneously, the seemingly endless flow of pleasure sending your body into an exhausted state almost straight away. "K-Katsuki, Katsuki— mnnghWAit!"

Finally, his skilled mouth detaches from your overwhelmed bud with a muted pop and you can take a deep breath. So it looks like having your legs forced to remain in a relaxed position heightens the effects. You're mind-blown, nobody's ever done something so confidently, so assertively to you before. If he had continued whatever that was then you might've…

"Too much f'you? Shorry shweetheart," the muscular fiend muffling apologies beneath you is still gliding his tongue over your saturated entrance, swallowing greedily and peering into your fucking soul with those ruby eyes. "Mnnbut you shoulda known, m'nothing like anything you've ever had before…"

Without a second's notice, Bakugo easily slides his dripping middle finger inside of you, a hot and amused laugh vibrating through you due to his face still being pressed into your throbbing cunt. "Sho eashily…" you hear him comment. You're squirming with every movement he makes, the digit creating pressure within your contracting walls coaxing animalistic moans from your chest that even you don't recognise. It's when his eager tongue begins to lap relentlessly at your clit too that your focus wavers, poor brain trying to acknowledge everything at once. Eventually, the euphoria has you doubled over with your mind seeing nothing but crimson stars studying you from between a pair of weak legs.

"Good girl, yeah yeah yeah," the blonde praises whilst savouring the view above, his jolting cock demanding for him to push three fingers inside just to hurry things up. "So f’ckin tasty and wet for me, think you can take three fingers?" he asks lowly, almost states it. You nod rapidly, barely in the know of what you're agreeing to but you get the gist. It's slightly embarrassing how his thick fingers slide in without an issue, though it doesn't look as if Bakugo has anything to say. Instead, he's elated. If only you could see how rock hard he is right now in this moment, how much of an effect you have on his body. If his dick could get any bigger it would tear a damn hole in his clothes!

"Like you were goddamn made for it." he confirms to himself and nuzzles his face further.

Twisting, turning, tapping, your horny mechanic bullies your narrowing inner walls with his heavy touch. You're holding your breath again, you can't even help it with how insanely good he's making you feel and he's not even inside you yet. The mere thought of his cock draws a long, somewhat frustrated groan from your throat, voice cracking softly when his plumped lips close over your heated pussy to suck on your overstimulated clit once more. On cue, your mouth opens in a silent scream before the words can come out prepared.

"Katsuki! Too, huh, good! I-I think—" you try to warn him as best as you can in such a state but Bakugo proceeds to dart his tongue, coated heavily with your sweet arousal, back and forth over the sore bud until you're clenching on his fingers so much that he can't move them. "Hhhhhoh my god! Again-n! M'cumming!"

And with that, the man between your thighs swiftly withdrawals to stick his tongue out and carelessly skim the convulsing bundle of nerves by shaking his head. Somehow the mechanic expected the clear liquid to come spraying from your sopping cunt, he'd just prepared himself and you saw it. Your body is tensing in ways you've never experienced in your entire life as your juices hit the concrete with an obscene splat. The fact that you're squirting everywhere is shocking enough, but the fact that the man who's face you're currently cumming on already knew exactly how to make it happen...

Your walls are vicelike around nothing as Bakugo savours the flavour present on the tip of his tongue, the fading end of your release enhancing the emptines within. Did he do that on purpose too? To keep you wanting more? Your widened eyes immediately search to be met with his own narrowed and lust-tainted leer, and then you realise something. This guy really does know what he's doing, so much so that you're almost scared by how good you feel. His head certainly would've been crushed if you hadn't tried to keep your legs open. After retreating from his spot in front of you, the mechanic mutters a "let's get these fuckin' things outta my way" breathlessly and proceeds to rid of your cute panties. Your cunt drools arousal as he dangles them in your face, giving his wrist a little twirl before pretending to throw them to the ground. Little do you know, they're actually stuffed nice and cozy in his pocket. How sneaky.

"Need you…" whispering sweetly once he's stood before you again, you reach over slightly to cup his clothed and ever-hardening length. The low-key gasp that's sucked past the burly man’s lips is then exhaled as a deep "ah", the forceful back and forth motion of your palm causing him to feel as if his spirit is about to ascend to fucking cloud nine and beyond.

"Need me, hah?" he asks rhetorically. You don't stop as he's soon hurrying to unbuckle the belt looped around his waist, in fact his visible determination has your blood sparking with newfound energy. A kind of energy that influences the muscles in your legs to feel unused, begging you to ride him until they give out. Bakugo is moments away from letting his leaky cock breathe, finally able to free himself from the painfully claustrophobic material that is his underwear after removing the first layer—

"Wait, wait, in the car... can we? In the back sea-"

The sound of a car door opening hardly registers and you're being thrown playfully into the velvety backseat of a spacious jeep before you can even finish your question. Luckily, you're given a mere few seconds to reposition yourself until the unruly blonde sits beside you, bare legs spread to make room for one hand lazily grabbing and shaking the base of his hard-on beneath damp fabric. Observing his current state, your half lidded eyes are drawn to his shiny pink tip poking out from under the soaked cotton briefs you so badly wish to yank down. It's swollen, trying to jolt whilst being pressed into his abdomen and causing even more cloudy, sticky pre to droop in a string of small beads. The desperate mechanic is also watching with bowed brows, eventually turning his head to you as if to silently plead, simultaneously lifting his ass up to fidget halfway out of his underwear.

Holy shit, he's big. You knew he was big, but… he's big. And veiny. His huge fingers wrap around his bare member for a second time, influencing him to throw his head back and toy with himself. You’re stunned for a good moment, zero thoughts as you play witness to Bakugo’s solo pleasure. You hadn't seen his features contort in such a manner before, as his face had been hidden from your eyes whenever they were open. He's got this look about him right now, like he's totally losing himself in rapture for you. Mesmerising, truly. Those rock solid abs rise and fall at quite a fast pace, you shouldn't keep him waiting but… This guy is fucking delicious, you could just lick him right now. You bet even the sweat coating his face in a pretty shine tastes like salted caramel. You want a taste. Without hesitation, you straddle the man's lap, a firm grip stationed on his shoulders with his cock bobbing involuntarily into your puffy clit. Daringly, you grab him by the chin to lick a clean, wet stripe along his pink cheek.

Such a salacious action offers no small reward, you realise this when a clenched fist in your hair pulls you back just enough to have your noses bumping into one another, a dangerous growl fleeing from behind gritted teeth, straight from the tasty mechanic's dick rather than his brain. You're rather puzzled as he slowly ghosts his mouth over your own, until he speaks.

"M'I okay to rough you up a little? Hm?" Voice gravelly and deeply smooth enough to have your head spinning, he asks impatiently and narrow-eyed. You're most likely getting yourself into some kind of trouble judging by the sheer size of him, but how can you say no to something so utterly passion stoked? Answering with a simple nod and another teasing lick over those talented, wetted lips of his, you lower your already bucking hips. It burns, it fucking burns. Yet it's intoxicating. How odd for such a searing pain to have you wishing time would stop. Whimpering and grimacing, you've just about managed to fit half of his length past your soaking entrance.

"Want me t' rough my pretty baby up in the backseat?" He's asking you rhetorically, almost tauntingly, though somehow there's more than a hint of soothing behind his words. "Take it easy, baby. That's it…" he's being so gentle with his tone, breathing shaky as he memorises every damn detail of the view in front of him.

Fuck, it's stretching you out so much! The slippery, warm tip is squished between your succulent inner walls, gradually nudging them further apart to accommodate more with the shallow rise and dip of your body. "Hngh... fuck— nngh!" your pained grunts and contracting around him both have Bakugo digging his front teeth into his tender lower lip, ruby gaze tracking a lone drop of sweat trickling down your temple. Hyper-aware of your existence, of the velvety soft ridges massaging his length, a subtle smile enhances the shamefully mushy blonde's features and a thumb swipes the rolling droplet from your face.

With every inch nearly a struggle to slide past your tender, wet entrance, the longer and less frequent your trepidatious gasps for air grow. It's the pure fervour dancing in the depths of your abdomen to blame for your lack of air intake, for this overwhelming lightheadedness that makes you feel as if you might just pass out on your mechanic's fat dick. Then it becomes apparent, you've been so focused on easing the pain that the rapturous inferno spreading within yourself has been stealing your breath away. A flustered giggle is pulled from you when Bakugo cracks a stupid joke regarding your breathing pattern.

"Damn, I knew- ah, shit..." he shudders when the sensitive head of his cock reaches deeper parts of you, canines chattering together with a moan before carrying on. "I knew I was hot, but fucking breathe, heheh..."

However, your embarrassed grin flickers in the presence of intense enjoyment as you sense your frame succumbing to the man's increasing touch located at your sides. Rough hands are guiding your hips from their ongoing gentle bob to a faster, shorter and heavier bounce. This new movement finally drives the remaining inches of the mechanic's length inside of you, the harsh impact producing a pornographic splurt to sound as your arousal caves into the building pressure and escapes from your throbbing, stretching entrance.

"GAH—!"

"Oh-hohoooooh, baby..."

He doesn't stop there, either. The back of your thighs smack upon the top of his own, the lewd noises increasing in volume every time Bakugo lifts himself up to brutally slam you back down simultaneously. Strings of your slick connect to his sticky skin, linking the both of you together like some filthy double meaning in a movie. Your insides experience a sinfully pleasing ache with the continuous and vigorous moving, the way he's ramming in and out so fucking fast and rough and perfectly— God, there's absolutely no way that you can delay another orgasm like this, no chance in hell. How are you even supposed to function right now when his cock is so amazingly able to stimulate your over-sensitive clit from the inside?

"Ka-a-at'ski-i~" your near sing-song-ish moan of his name is prolonged by the drag and drop of your weight. It's the whiniest shit he's ever heard, the wavering of your wobbly voice positively addictive to the unruly mechanic.

"I can't stop, can't stop it!" a hurried, raspy whisper into his pink-tinged ear indicates the unstoppable approach of another brain-melting orgasm on your end, and Bakugo really can't help himself from pistoning his long dick as deep as your spasming cunt will allow before the involuntary push of the juicy walls clamping over him can render you empty again. This is the hardest one yet, this time causing your form to lock up as soon as your palms caress the prickly stubble on the blonde's jaw. He's fucking delighted, peeking up at your distressed features from beneath your weak hold. It's so adorable, how you can barely handle the pleasure he's gladly supplying you with, slutty little body already so drunk on sex.

"Ugh-huh! Plea—easeeee," you cry out and impulsively bring the mechanic's head forward to bury your sobs and babbles into his natural, soft spikes. "Mmnn- please, so good..."

He notices that you're not fidgeting anymore. Instead, you've been ultimately paralysed by ecstasy. Your back arched and your trembling thighs raised, needy body in prime position to just fucking take it. You're doing exactly that, perky tits jolting into his chin whilst you let him pound your sweet pussy however he wants. Narrow eyes rolling back, a husky moan breaks the hold of his lips. There's no need to see your face to know how far gone you are, but just in case, Bakugo checks in with a dirty laugh and an utterly sexual "don't even know whatcha' beggin' for, do ya?"

Hardly capable of a simple yes or no, you can only respond with a long, broken hum into his tear-dampened hair. Fuuuuck, the car is rocking with the man's thrusts and it has the act of jutting his hips upward becoming so much easier. After a short moment of sucking on one of your pebbled nipples to have you squeezing his length, he decides a slight change needs to be made before he can cum. Without warning, Bakugo hastily manhandles you so that you're facing away from him with your lolling head leaning upon the headrest in front of you, arms around the seat and gripping on for dear life.

The musky, intimate scent of sex has an incredibly intoxicating effect, neither of you able to get enough of the lusty, hot air filling the vehicle. It influences the mechanic to ram his cock in you once again, but this time he doesn't pull back, choosing to drag you into his broad, glistening chest and guide your tired hips to gyrate in his lap. You're absolutely fucking destroyed down there, he notes pridefully when he lets his fingers slip back and forth over your numbing clit. At this point, you can only feel the pleasure his fingers are bringing you, rather than his actual digits themselves. Your mind is completely de-railed, train of thought tipped over onto its damn side. This guy is literally going to fuck your brains out!

"Keep goin', gorgeous. M' almost there," Bakugo groans whilst one of his hands trails to your throat. He can feel his dick stirring within your tight cunt, he can feel your entrance squeezing the base as your walls attempt to milk him for all he's worth. To be honest, hes lost count of your orgasms. You have, that's for sure. In fact, he doesn't think you could count to 3 right now, even if you tried your hardest. Let's make that 2, he muses to himself just as your clit starts to pulse beneath his dangerously intense touch.

"Ka... Kat'ski..." you mumble through the pressure situated under your jawbone, unable to keep your head from falling back into the crook of his neck with a silent scream. The contracting of your mellow insides circling his blunt tip has the tense mechanic blurting:

"Cum for me, baby. C-cum f'me, m'gonna cum for you too, n'kay?"

Another splash of clear liquid is sprayed from between your legs as soon as Bakugo's words register, his endless rocking and thick fingers creating gaps in stream which only makes everything that much messier. You're still in the end throes of your release when the man behind you loses control of the curses previously sat at the tip of his tongue, all of them falling from his quivering mouth within a matter of seconds.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck— cuh—! Cumming!" he strains into your tangled hair, the hold around your throat gradually tightening with each forceful spurt of white from his jumping cock. Hips bucking lightly during the fading continuation of his orgasm, the brawny man removes his hand from your neck, allowing you to inhale a deep breath.

Then.

Reality kicks in.

Full throttle.

"Oh my fucking god. We need to fuckin' get out."

Slowly coming to your senses, you angle your tired head to peer at your mechanic who seems to be troubled.

"Why's that?" you question and kiss his flushed cheek, face plastered with cute curiosity. However, that cute curiosity is quickly replaced with utmost panic when Bakugo doesn't reply, instead observing the mess surrounding the two of you. "Shit! This is..."

Izuku's fucking jeep.

|| || || ||

Hours pass, all spent scrubbing the entirety of the jeep's backseat area. You'd prefer not to remember the chosen method of exiting the vehicle whilst being impaled and full of cum, although it was pretty hilarious at the time. Oh, right now? Right now you're on a stealth mission, currently waiting for Bakugo to signal your leave with obvious hand gestures whilst Izuku asks about his car. Hm... you feel like you're forgetting something— Woah, shit! He's signalling, okay. Refraining from letting a giggle escape at the blonde's tight-lipped and wide eyed expression, you sneak out from behind his childhood friend and quietly leave the building.

"So it's all good now?" Izuku pats the hood of his jeep, emerald eyes eager for his answer.

"Mm, yup. Stay there a sec while I go get your keys, loser."

You're on your way to your own car, still wondering if maybe you'd left something back there when Bakugo appears from behind the door in the corner of your vision. Spinning on your heels, you tilt your head at the cocky smirk he's blessing you with. You're confused, until you clock him dangling your lacy panties on one finger.

'Wh— HEY!' you mouth at him with a frown of disbelief. So that's what you were forgetting! You're about to storm right back over there, but the manner in which the blonde peers over his shoulder with an awkward face tells you that Izuku's waiting patiently. He doesn't mouth anything back to you, just opts to blow you a mischievous kiss, a kiss that he plants on the fabric of your panties, before cheekily shutting the door on you.

"Unbelievable." your hands flail around as you murmur with an amused smile. Guess you'll have to come back for those.

|| || || ||

Taglist :

@artdumpsstuff @endlessfreaky @passionateuchiha

#bakugou smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #mha smut #mha bakugou #my hero x reader #my hero acedamia

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

Note

hi there! (ok FIRST AND FOREMOST i need to tell you that i am obsessed with your writing. you are by far my favorite jamie tartt writer, you characterize him perfectly and nail his speech mannerisms! not an easy feat! so thank u for writing what you do and for sharing it with us!!!! <333333 ok now that i've gotten that off my chest) if you're taking requests right now i'd love to see your take on a (slowburn?) enemies to lovers fic with jamie!!

I don’t know why I take simple little prompts and turn them into angsty monstrosities. This one makes up for the lack of plot in my other fics, and I’d like to apologize in advance😬

Oh also I am the queen of commas, in case you didn’t know 😇😇

flipped the script

It cannot be considered murder if you’re provoked. It would be considered doing the world a favor.

And by god, you are going to fucking murder Jamie Tartt.

He does absolutely fucking nothing but make your life fucking miserable and you’re fucking losing it.

The only thing you’d agree on is when it started. It was 4am and he was yelling at someone called Roy and you had to be awake in two hours for a fucking conference, and you’d only just fallen asleep at 1am.

So you marched out of your house to the sidewalk where your prick neighbor was arguing with his prick coach and told him to shut the fuck up or I’m calling the police.

He opened his mouth to retort, changed his mind, then made a snide comment about your choice of outfit while you glared at him. His prick coach had the decency to apologize and smack Jamie on the head, so you said, “You’re fine, Roy, I’ll see you at work next week,” and Roy said, “Ah shit, you have that fucking conference, yeah?” and you said yeah then flipped off Jamie as you walked away.

You really hadn’t had many interactions with Jamie before, but you knew him before you started your job as an administrative assistant for AFC Richmond since you were, after all, living right next to each other.

Your last job had paid incredibly well; you were basically the go-to girl for your last company for two and half years. You compiled all relevant information from the day and presented to your boss so he would be caught up on the company’s inner workings. You were observant when it came to valuable (or toxic) employees, and had gained a reputation for being an invaluable asset.

But your old boss was retiring and you were ready for something new, so you began looking around. You found a job at AFC Richmond, assisting a Mr. Higgins and just generally making sure his job ran smoothly so the club could run smoothly.

It was mostly paperwork, but you enjoyed it. You collected data from all different departments and then ran it by Higgins and Ms. Welton. You weren’t above coffee runs; it was nice to get out sometimes and Ms. Welton would put your coffee on her bill. You got to take your lunch breaks with them and talk and laugh, and be appreciated, which is something you didn’t often get.

The nature of your job demands a certain level of… professionalism, shall we say, which can be misconstrued as coldness. You’re not. You’re just young and trying to be taken seriously, which is why it’s nice to be known both in a personal and professional capacity by Higgins and Ms. Welton. Higgins has even invited you over for family dinner and you’d invited his family over to yours. His boys had absolutely lost their minds at the amount of nerf guns you had stashed in each room, courtesy of your brother who often liked to drop by unannounced when he knew you were home and get you in the back of the head. Sometimes you regretted giving him a key, but not enough to take it back.

All that to say, it was a relatively seamless transition to AFC Richmond. You and Jamie would exchange a neighborly nod if you saw each other, but that was absolutely it.

—

The next incident is, uh, kind of your fault.

Remember the brother-and-nerf-guns thing?

Yeah.

Your brother had sneaked over on a Sunday (parked around the corner so his car wouldn’t be seen on your security cameras) and you were chasing each other around the house. Your sister-in-law had warned you he was coming over (he asked her to drive him), so you were prepared and hiding in the bushes. He was nonchalantly walking on the sidewalk, hands in his hoodie, when you popped out and got him right in the chest then booked it into your house, which led to a solid fifteen minutes of running and yelling, with the occasional, “Ow, you jerk!” that siblings are always saying but never really mean.

The incident occurs when you’re once again in your front yard running from your brother. You look back to assess how far away he is when smack, you run into someone and feel their beverage go flying.

It’s Jamie, and his bright pink drink is now all over his clean white hoodie.

You both stop and glare at each other.

You had stopped feigning civility after the 4am thing, so the glare is standard procedure.

Jamie says, “What the fuck?” as your brother comes careening to an abrupt halt.

You’re still glaring. “Why are asking me ‘what the fuck?’ You’re the one walking around here with that fucking awful drink that’s probably going to kill your internal organs. I mean seriously, it cannot be safe to consume something that bright.”

“Says the girl who’s addicted to diet soda.”

“Says the girl who’s fucking pissed that her sidewalk is stained fucking bright pink. How the fuck am I supposed to clean this?”

Jamie’s face is red now, and yours is too.

“A), it’s a fucking public sidewalk and b), what about my fucking sweatshirt? This cost more than your shitty car!” he shoots back, and that’s the moment a line is crossed.

“We live in the same goddamn neighborhood,” you hiss, “so shut the fuck up with your stupid elitist footballer bullshit.”

“Oi, at least I’m not a fucking stuck-up, self-righteous big-shot with no friends!”

You’re not sure what would have happened next because your brother grabs you by the arm and hauls you back inside, waving apologetically to Jamie. All the fight goes out of you as soon as the door shuts.

“What the ever-loving hell was that?” he asks. He never did like using the word “fuck.”

—

What the ever-loving hell was that? Well, it’s actually quite simple. In the seven months you’ve been at Richmond, you haven’t really made any friends.

Yes, you have Ms. Welton and Higgins, but that’s not the same as having people the same age as you to go out with and watch movies and drink and dance and just be stupid and unwind with.

You’re not even necessarily looking for friends at Nelson Road, just friends somewhere. The problem is, you’re not even sure how to go about it. You’ve spent the last decade of your life (yes, decade) working your ass off to get where you are now. Fourteen year-old knew what she wanted and was determined to get it. You had hustled through school, made connections, grew your resume, and saved every fucking penny until you landed a job that you were definitely under qualified for, but you had nailed the interview. You weren’t sure why your boss decided to take a chance on you, until he told you later he saw the same spark his daughter had in your eyes.

His daughter, who had become a multi-millionaire on her own by the time she was twenty-seven.

So, because someone saw the grit in your eyes of all places, you had a chance to make a fuck ton of money and have a fuck ton of benefits.

You made more connections, including a realtor who set you up with your current home at a price that was insane to normal people, but a steal to the rich. You were signing papers before it was even officially on the market.

It had been labelled as a “fixer-upper,” but that meant a little bit of scuffed paint and slightly outdated utilities.

And it was yours.

It all came at a price though, didn’t it?

That price was not seeing your family often, sleeping poorly, and no real friends.

That’s why your brother makes it a point to come around. He knows that your lack of contact does not equate a lack of love.

Not everyone saw it that way. You’d lost all your friends at this point, labeled a bitch and a workaholic. So, you though, why the hell not just lean into it. You could be a bitch and a workaholic if it got things done. It was easier to harden the shell around your heart than let people in again.

—

Ok, maybe taking out all that anger on Jamie isn’t healthy, but hey, he’s the one fighting back so hard.

Things keep happening. His foot is stuck out just enough to make you stumble as you pass each other in the hallway, your car is parked on the street just enough so he can’t get into his garage, ferocious glares are exchanged. Any conversation you are forced to have is laced with sarcastic, biting remarks that only serve make you close off even more.

The worst part? You’re both fucking brilliant at hiding it.

You’d have to be, especially at AFC Richmond under Ted Lasso’s command. If he got wind of this, he’d be all over it trying to fix it and neither of you want that.

You see, Jamie’s a little bit fucked up too.

—

You’ve been at AFC Richmond for a year, and you’ve hated Jamie Tartt for eleven months.

Yet somehow, you’re in fucking Paris.

Not with just Jamie, of course, but the whole team.

Rebecca’s basically given you a paid vacation because there isn’t much for you to do here. It’s great, the city of lights or something, but you can’t enjoy it.

You’re in your room on the floor, becoming slowly dehydrated from crying.

Everything is all fuzzy and you’re incredibly disoriented, so you think you might be hallucinating when you hear a knock on the door.

It happens again, more insistently, and you think it’s probably Rebecca so you drag yourself up off the floor, wipe your eyes, and open it to find Jamie Tartt standing in front of you, clearly wishing to be anywhere else.

He’s staring at the top of the doorframe as he says, “Coach sent me to see if you want to go out with the lads tonight,” looking down only when you’ve left his statement unanswered for far too long.

His look of annoyance changes as he clocks your puffy eyes and red nose.

“You alright?” he asks and you don’t even have the heart to say, obviously, don’t I look it? so you just nod and move to shut the door.

Jamie blocks it with his hand and pushes it back open, then past you into the room.

It’s pristine, all marble and gold; and far too big for you. You would have preferred something smaller, something less empty. Something less cold.

All you can do is stand there mutely in your t-shirt and sweatpants, watching your worst enemy clatter around in the room’s fridge looking for a water bottle.

He retrieves one and hands it to you, cap unscrewed.

You don’t ask if he’s spit in it, just take a sip and look at him with dead eyes.

“You look like shit,” he observes, breaking the silence.

It’s not a dig. You’ve heard enough condescension from his lips to know when he’s fighting.

You shrug.

“You gonna say something?” Jamie asks, and that’s enough to get you going.

“You’re the one who’s in my room,” you say and instead of firing back, Jamie grins.

“We can go to mine if you want, love,” he winks and in a terrible, awful, panic-inducing moment, you are thrown completely off your guard.

How the fuck are you supposed to reconcile this Jamie Tartt with the awful neighbor you hate? And is he- flirting? Surely not.

He registers your face going through a million expressions in an instant and sobers.

“Go sit,” he says, and you comply without thinking. You’re cross-legged on the couch and he thumps down next to you. He’s not close enough that you’re touching, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body. It’s funny, because you feel so cold. You wonder for a moment if your heart has actually turned to stone and that’s why you’re shivering.

You hear someone say, “My ex is here,” and are horrified to realize that you’re the one talking, and not only that, but you’re continuing.

“He fucking… knew I’d be here. I saw him in the lobby. He acted like it was some great coincidence, but he was never a great liar. And… he’s here with his girlfriend. Fiancée, I guess. Because he’s proposing to her tonight. They’ve known each other less than a year, and he’s proposing to her. I saw him in the lobby looking like this while he’s in a fucking suit and all I can think about is the fact that he broke up with me because I wouldn’t put out because I wasn’t ready. And how he said he wasn’t the marrying type.” You pause.

“I broke my back making time for him. Everyone thinks I’m a workaholic and maybe I am, but I make time for the people I love. I made time for him. It sounds funny to say, especially how I am now, but he’s why I don’t anymore. Make time, I mean. Nobody notices I’m gone anyway. Or when I’m around. Or anything I do unless I’m doing something for them.”

You risk a look at Jamie. He’s studying your face with an intensity you’ve never seen and you look down to find his hand in yours, and you wonder how that happened. Your knuckles are white from gripping it but he’s holding it back and it gives you just enough of a boost to keep going.

“I don’t even want the money for myself. Like, I’m able to buy expensive shit and that’s cool, but the only reason I have a house that big is because my brother and his wife have a shit-ton of kids, and sometimes they need a break. So they can come over to mine and run around and have space and be wild for a week and I don’t care. They won’t let me give them money, so I have to think of creative ways to help them out. I only have nephews- they each have their own trust fund. It’s not that big right now, but it’s growing. It’ll be a lot by the time they’re each eighteen. And my parents… They died when I was fourteen. It was a stupid car accident, this freak thing with the brakes even though they’d just had the car serviced a week before. My brother was twenty one and newly married because he’s an idiot and he was in love. He and his wife let me live with them.”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not right, they didn’t just let me live with them, they took care of me. Bought me clothes and fed me and let me have my own room even though I said I could sleep on the couch. They could barely afford things for themselves, but they made sure I had what I needed. That’s why I threw myself into work and pushed people away. It’s for them, because I know I can never repay them. But I want to, even if they won’t let me.”

You’re done speaking, finally, and your face is bright red. It normally is when speaking to Jamie, but that’s from the sheer anger you usually feel from having to deal with him. This time it’s different. It’s from the embarrassment of being vulnerable in front of someone.

Jamie hasn’t said anything the whole time, just let you hold his hand. Your knees are touching now, and you realize that one of you must have shifted to make that happen.

You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “Why are you here, Jamie?” you ask softly. “You hate me. I don’t even know why I told you all that.”

He looks straight into your eyes. “I don’t hate you,” he says simply.

That’s enough to fully shatter the shell around your heart, and you’re shaking with silent sobs again as Jamie pulls you closer, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

—

You fall asleep like that, and you’re not sure at which point Jamie left. But when you wake up, you’re in your bed under a blanket. You think maybe you dreamed the whole thing until you see the note on your nightstand in messy handwriting.

I meant what I said.

—

Neither you nor Jamie comment on it, but something has changed. You don’t hate him anymore. He sits next to you on the plane back and cracks jokes, and you have a weird opportunity to apologize. He tells you he’s sorry too, explains about his dad, and you form a strange bond of repressed anger as a way to deal with hurt.

Ted is right, forgiveness is the way to go.

—

Jamie Tartt makes it a point to ask you to go out with the lads every time they do group activities. You meet Rebecca’s friend Keeley, basically the only other girl, and pretty soon she’s invited herself over for girl’s nights. Jamie recognizes Keeley’s car the second time it happens and walks over to say hey. She invites him in, and suddenly he’s a fixture at girl’s night. His movie recommendations are shit, but his skincare products are not.

Since things at AFC Richmond aren’t as hectic as you’re used to, you start to pick up some of your old hobbies. Cooking, for example. You get your hands on a copy of Jamie’s diet plan and start experimenting with ways to make it more interesting. So now he’s at yours for dinner more often than not.

He pops his head over the fence one Saturday afternoon, hearing young voices all morning. Your nephews are over and playing football in the backyard while your brother and sister-in-law deep clean their house. You’re sitting under an umbrella with the baby in your arms and a pitcher of water, when you hear Isaiah, the oldest, say, “Whoa! Is that Jamie Tartt?”

You look up from Daniel’s tiny giggly face to see Jamie hanging over your fence and waving. You roll your eyes and grin back.

“Wanna come over?” you call, and the words are barely our of your mouth before he’s hopped over and starting to steal the ball from your four walking nephews.

They’re at it for a good thirty minutes before he calls time-out and is jogging over to you, all sweaty and grinning.

“Didn’t know you were good with kids,” he says.

“Could say the same thing about you,” you shoot back.

He grabs water then makes a silly face at Daniel, who giggles and waves his arms. You laugh and kiss the baby on the top of his head, which makes him gurgle. You look up to see Jamie watching you strangely, so you wrinkle your nose at him. “What?” you say, but before he can open his mouth to respond, Jesse is pulling on Jamie’s hand, telling him the time-out is over.

—

Your next interaction of note happens after your third consecutive Richmond match. You don’t usually go to them, as it’s not required and you didn’t really care. But since you’ve been hanging out with the team, you find yourself taking Rebecca up on her offer to sit in the owner’s box. It’s three days until the next match and you’re looking for Jamie so you can eat lunch together. You find him in the locker room of all places and hand him his bag of food, yet another one of your experiments.

You’re starting to get really good revitalizing Jamie’s meal plan.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and you both miss the looks exchanged between Ted and Beard in their office.

Jamie puts down the lunch and says, “Oi, I got you something.” He reaches into his locker and pulls out a Richmond jersey.

“It’s new, it ain’t one of mine, but now you can wear it to matches.”

You shake it open to see it’s a Jamie Tartt jersey, and this makes you unreasonably happy.

Jamie’s grinning too, and it’s the rare kind of grin where his teeth look sharper and his eyes flash.

You hug it to your chest and say, “I’ll be sure to wear it Saturday,” before you and Jamie head to the café to eat.

—

Keeley, of course, has comments about the jersey. You pretend not to understand what she’s saying.

—

It’s girls night again, and you and Jamie are pulling snacks out of his cabinets when your phones ding at the same time. It’s Keeley on your groupchat.

Can’t make it babes, something’s come up.

You make a comment involving the words “Roy Kent,” and riffing on her excuse, which makes Jamie laugh.

“I guess I’ll head back to mine,” you say, but Jamie tilts his head and says, “Or you could just… stay,” so you do.

You’re on his couch again, like the night you stopped hating him: your back agains his chest as you rub your thumb absentmindedly on his tattooed forearm.

You’re midway through the movie and explaining to Jamie the limited plausibility of it happening in real life, when he says a soft, oh shit as you pause to take a breath.

“What?” you say, sitting up. “Is everything alright?”

Jamie rubs a hand across his face. “You’re gonna fucking hate me again.”

You squint. “Not sure that’s possible. You’ve got too much dirt on me.”

Jamie just groans. “Nah, you’ll hate me. But I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

He grabs your hand and looks you straight in your eyes, giving you goosebumps.

“I’m fucking in love with you,” he says, and your brain still functions just enough to crash your lips into his.

You’re on top of him and his fingers are tangled in your hair, but as your fingers ghost his waistband, he stills and grabs your hand.

You freeze too, afraid you’ve crossed a line, but Jamie says, “I’m not fucking you for the first time on my couch. We’re going to do this proper,” and then he’s whisking you off your feet and up the stairs.

—

You know that fucking someone you work with is a line you said you’d never cross. But he was your neighbor first, and you’re in love, so it doesn’t count. You’re lying on Jamie’s bed gasping for air after god knows how long and all you can say is, “fuck me.”

Jamie smirks. “Thought I just did, babe, but I’ll go again,” and you’re seeing stars for the third time that night.

He’s sucking a line across your collarbone when you say, “Wait!”

Jamie is off of you in a moment, and you feel strangely empty.

“You alright?” he asks, all concern.

“I never said it back,” you explain. Jamie’s still confused.

“I love you too. You said you’re fucking in love with me. I’m in love with you too. Just thought I should make it clear.”

Jamie’s looking at you all strange again, eyes dark, so you roll him back on top and let him devour you.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine

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leclsrc · 8 months

Note

a charles drabble with love language/s pls.... its all i want its all i have ever wanted

real love baby – cl16

You express love differently, but it’s love all the same.

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy it! this is a scheduled post – my brain is so wonky and i absolutely needed to get back into writing before my hands atrophied and i wasted away into dust …. so i worked on a months-old req that i previously scrapped. am i happy w this? well i’ll answer that honestly and say

It happens first when you’re still friends.

Charles gets off a late meeting that’s wormed its way into the late hours of night, costing him hours of rest or training, and the paddock is empty save for staff members setting up for Sunday. He’s still got Sauber merch slung over his arm when he clicks on his car keys—when the lights flash, he notices a shadow by an adjacent car. “Hello?” He calls out, apprehensive. They let anyone into the area these days.

“It’s me,” says your voice, amused at the clear nerves his voice exhibits. “Why’re you leaving so late?”

“I couldn’t leave without making sure everything was set for tomorrow.” There are circles under your eyes, obscured by the lens of your glasses, the ones you wear when you’ve been staring at text or a screen for hours too long. You work a lot in the crux of a season, coordinating investors for Mercedes and making sure money is where it’s supposed to be every single day. “We’re getting budget breach accusations.”

“I planted them,” he jokes half-heartedly, leaning his side against the trunk of your car. You laugh, rolling your eyes. It’s not the funniest joke in the world—it wouldn’t pass at all if he did that at an open mic—but something makes it easy to do so, to throw your head back and affirm his attempt at comedy.

Charles is so tired—from driving in the morning and results in the afternoon to a meeting that lasted hours and discussed basically his entire fucking future—but he enjoys having you laugh at something he’s said. He doesn’t really know why, just savors the way your necklace glints in the dim light of the parking lot and the leftover lighting from the paddock several metres away.

“Funniest joke I’ve heard in a while,” you say mutely, sarcastic. Your car is on but you’re not getting in.

“Does Henry not entertain you with jokes of his own?” He asks lightly, smiling. “Henry? Harry? Or is he busy with… what was it, an online rap career?”

“Harvey.” You’re not laughing, and in fact displaying some expression that’s half amusement/disappointment, but he can spot the beginnings of a smile on your lips. “You knew that. And he’s not an online rapper.” Anymore, you leave out.

“Oh, that’s good. Was worried he was out to get Drake’s career.” You raise a hand to threaten him playfully, a genuine laugh escaping your lips. Your teeth flash and your eyes crinkle and his head doesn’t hurt so much anymore. “Appreciate the jokes while you still can,” he says anyway. “My migraines lately have made me very sluggish.”

You blink, reaching into your patterned handbag and producing a tiny bottle of Advil. “Take it,” you tell him, lips pursed. “Can’t have this year’s best rookie having chronic headaches.” You push it into his hand and smile tightly.

“Thanks,” he stutters, his throat dry. “I’ll see you around. With Harvey, maybe. You could introduce us.”

“Hah. Not sure that’s something I’d… I’d really want,” you dismiss quietly, watching him round the space to open his car. Louder, you add, “Let me know when you’re okay.”

He looks at you then downward. Then at you again, smile on his face. “I will.” He raises the Advil and gives it a shake. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you say, grinning.

—

The next time it happens (the next time you can both remember well, at least) you’re in the sweet little in-between of being friends and something else. He calls it his courting stage; you, your begrudgingly allowing it stage. At that point things had gone awry with Harvey, since he’d decided to jump back into his pursuit of Soundcloud fame.

“Hey.” You duck into the gym room, your head just in between the door and the frame. Seb sees you, bumps his teammate to catch his attention further; Charles jogs to you and leans against the wall, crossing his arms to hear you continue. “I’m leaving early today. No money issues.” You nod squarely. “Parce que I stole the funds.”

“I warned you. If you keep talking about embezzlement I’m going to have to kiss you,” he whisper-jokes, smiling.

He watches you hide a laugh, visibly flustered and stuttery, and he swears his chest hurts from how much it affects him, how strong his attraction is to you. He’s almost terrified of it, comforted only when you open your mouth to respond: “Are you gonna be in early tonight?”

“I, uh—” He turns to Seb. “We’ll be done in an hour, but I’m driving so I’ll wait around ’til later. Just… I’ve been too sore to properly get these moving for long so I need to rest for a bit.” He wiggles his arms and fingers. “It’s, well. The price you pay for being very muscular.”

“Jokes write themselves with you,” you scoff, cocking your head. “Okay, then. Um—I’ll see you.”

An hour later he leaves to take a piss and dick around while waiting for the dull ache at the nape of his neck to relax, and instead finds you in the Ferrari motorhome, close to sleeping. Your eyes snap open when they hear the pad of his sneakers against the floor. “Oh.”

“Oh?” He smiles, his heartstrings tugging. “What’s… what are you doing here?”

“Waiting.” You mirror his expression with quiet grace. “I can drive you back, Charles. It’s—you shouldn’t be driving yourself in this condition. I got Andrea to drive your car to your hotel.”

Despite his protests, he does end up becoming the passenger, and by extension the navigator and deejay, queuing up songs for you both to sing along to. In the unfamiliarity of the city and the dull exhaustion seeping into his bones, though, he’s asleep to a Police song before long. His hand rests softly on the centre console.

At the red light right before the hotel, you interlock your pinkies to wake him up. “Mmmff?”

“We’re near,” you notify, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Thank you,” he yawns. Then for good measure, “Didn’t know I was in such good hands.”

“You ever gonna stop with the jokes?” You ask amusedly, turning right.

“Not if they make you laugh.”

“They do,” you murmur, fond. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says quietly, holding your hand fully.

—

Life became a blur of little moments like those after that night.

Sure touches, words of assurance from Charles; little deeds from you. Whispered in French or Italian or English while he wrapped you in an embrace on bad days. A spout of cheers on the better ones. A water bottle with a Post-it: Finish before noon!!! when he’d gone to bed mouthing off about being thirsty. A cup of coffee on the counter the way he liked it on days you both had the time.

Sometimes it would switch: that time you were sick and he showed up to the Mercedes motorhome, Evian and meds in hand every six hours to make sure you were up to sched with your cold medication. That time you wrote him a letter for your third anniversary and watched him wipe tears off his face before he even made it halfway. Another time he organised your flat’s entire bookshelf according to all your standards (only to ask you to move in a week later and redoing the organisation at his place). And another time you gave a speech on Charles at a gala and he accepted the award, again, tearily.

But every action, every word, every joke, every hug, has always been motivated by love. The kind of tender love, that was unfamiliar in the same way it felt so much like home. The kind of love you read about or your parents would send you off to sleep talking about. Love so foolish, but so sure—neither of you have ever needed to doubt for a second. The kind of love so big it should be confusing, but you’ve both come to find it’s anything but, that you always seem to be on the same page, or at least capable of getting there. Closeness, intimacy, friendship—that’s all it’s ever been.

And everything, punctuated with the same sentiment, the same words, ever since the first time:

“Thank you,” he says in one breath, his voice heavy with love, with overwhelm. “Thank you, thank you.” He finds your ring finger and slides the diamond atop it.

“Anything,” you say, smiling in-between kisses, “anything for you.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #f1 x reader

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damiansgoodgirll · 3 months

Text

i felt like i needed to write this as this is basically what it’s going on in my life with the guy i’m dating

damian priest x reader

reader is in her twenties! we need the age gap cause me and my “bf” have a huuuge age gap lol

fool me once

“i’m dating someone else…i just wanted to let you know” was what he texted you when you first met.

it pained you a little but in reality you didn’t even know him so you agreed of just staying friends.

he was happy about that, he liked you but not in the way you liked him back. you prayed every night you were the girl between his arms, you prayed he wouldn’t take that long to answer your text messages and you prayed every night that he would realise what he was really missing.

yes, you were friends and you liked the idea of having him in your life, even if he wasn’t your boyfriend.

in the end, he was a good person and you preferred having him as a friend than not having him at all.

one beautiful day he texted you that it was over. the girl he was dating was gone and that he was now more comfortable in seeing you.

you should have said no. you knew it wasn’t right for him to make you the second option but the crush you had for him was too strong and your brain couldn’t say no.

you agreed on that date. and everything went perfectly. he took you out for dinner, he paid for you, he took you to the cinema, he gently kissed you when he brought you back home.

everything was good.

and silently, in your mind, you finally said “fuck, something good is finally happening to me…”

you texted each other every single day and secretly you loved the attention he was giving you.

your friends didn’t like him. they said he was bad news. maybe because he was older than you, maybe because he chose you as his second option and not his first one or maybe because he was only using you in trying to forget her.

you knew all they said was true. deep down, you knew it but you didn’t want it to be real. you felt too good and too safe when you were with him that you thought for a second that all of your friends were jealous of you.

so a second date happened.

it was better than the first one.

he took you out of town on a beautiful but cold sunday night, you went to an amazing restaurant where he paid for you and let you enjoy your time together. the ride back home was amazing, you talked, you laughed and joked and before letting you go, he kissed you again, and again, this time it was more passionate and sensual and if it wasn’t for him, who had a show next monday, you would have invited him in.

you promised him that on the third date you would have offered him dinner.

a third date that never came.

you waited for him to remember it but when you got tired of waiting, you simply asked him. he said he was busy with work and in all honesty, you believed him.

he was a busy man, why would he lie?

he had a full career, a full time job. he was a grown ass man with his life and compared to him, you were just a girl in your twenties who’s in reality is a complete mess. you didn’t have a home to call 100% yours, you had only three real friends and you were always so busy that you barely see each others.

that’s when you realised how different you were.

you knew something was wrong the moment his text messages became slow, like he wasn’t texting you but just replying to your questions.

it came to a point where you got tired of that situation and asked him what was wrong.

“you know the girl i was daring before i met you…she came back…she told me she was sorry, that she knew she fucked up everything…i didn’t see her yet because i was not in the right mood but this made me think…” he texted you.

you felt your heart break.

everything was so good until it wasn’t.

you expected him to say that everything was fine, that he was just busier than usual, or maybe that he didn’t like you anymore. you were ready for that outcome. you weren’t ready to hear about her.

not what you imagined. not what you expected.

you knew, from the way he talked about her that he liked her…that he still likes her…and you knew that if he had to choose, he would choose her.

why would he choose you when you weren’t his first choice in the beginning?

“can we please talk about it? do you want to talk about it?” you texted him. you needed to know what he was thinking about the whole situation.

“not really…”

“okay…” you texted back “just to let you know, damian, i’m here in case you wanted to talk”

“i appreciate that…i just need time” he replied.

time.

time for what?

time for what when you already knew he would choose her.

you weren’t supposed to cry for him because he never was yours to begin with but you still cried. you cried every night before falling asleep. you cried when you saw he wasn’t replying to your text messages anymore. you cried because for the first time in your life you felt safe in someone’s presence.

and it wasn’t fair.

for you. knowing you would have given him all.

you’re still hoping that he would choose you, because, in the end, you didn’t make him suffer, you didn’t make him cry. you hoped that he valued those things.

he texted you good morning on a random tuesday morning and that little message made you hopeful.

of course, you texted him back, asking him if everything was okay.

it’s been three days and you’re still waiting for his response.

to be continued…

(if he answers)

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estxkios · 8 months

Note

I was just wondering if you could write a one shot or something where basically Bill, from 2007 because I love his hair and it becomes a key point, is at an interview with the boys. The interviewer asks if they have any celebrity crushes. Bill says Reader, who’s from an American pop group, later the same interviewer interviews Readers band and ask the same question. Obviously telling reader that Bill from Tokio Hotel has a crush on them. Reader didn’t know who he was at first by name but remembered when a member of their band reminded them of a song they had played for Reader. Reader of course gets excited and is all like, “The one with the big spiky porcupine hair?! Someone get me in contact with him ASAP-.” And soon it gets back to Bill and how he’d react. Kinda long, I’m sorry.

CRUSH ੈ✩‧₊˚

bill kaulitz x fem!reader

summary: read the request loll

warnings : fluff, celebrity chrushes, reader is in a band!!! and also its not proofread, that should honestly be a warning.

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

It was probably the 6th interview of the day, and needless to say, bill was bored.

he was bored of being asked the same questions all day long, “what is it like being a twin? or “what do you guys look for in girls?”

frankly, he was totally over it. he could’ve sworn he was about to fall asleep when suddenly the interviewer said, “okay, bill! it your turn to say who your celebrity crush is!” she paused an looked the rest of the boys while saying, “who could be the lucky girl?”

“oh! well..” bill softly chewed his bottom lip as he thought. “hm, i would have to say y/n/l/n, yeah.”

the room filled with ooo’s as bill giggled.

“really? wow, what a coincidence..” the interview laughed to herself and bill cocked his head

“whats a coincidence?” tom butted in.

“we are having her on our show next weekend, such a shame. you could have shoot your shot if you were scheduled for sunday!” the interviewer obnoxiously laughed at her own sentence, pointing at the camera and staring into it.

although the others laughed with her, bills heart sank to his feet at the interviewers words.

‘i could’ve met y/n/l/n if we had just scheduled for sunday?! fuck.’ he cursed himself.

———————————————time skip - a week later.

"Alright y/n, last question for the day!" the interviewer enthusiastically said, into her microphone, but moving the microphone away to clear her throat before talking.

you chuckled at the interviewers unique personality, although you werent even sure if you were laughing to make the interveiw less awkward, or if you were actually enjoying the experience.

"sorry," she cleared her throat once more before starting again, "so, the question every man wants to know.." she dramatically paused and stared into the camera before turning back to you, "who is your celebrity crush y/n?!"

you looked over to the drummer of your band, valerie, who chuckled, she knew you didnt have a celebrity crush, which made the suspense of the interveiwers question very awkward.

"well.. you see, she doesnt really have a crush." your bandmate connie said, adjusting her miniskirt.

"wow really? the fabulous y/n doesnt have a crush?!" the interveiwer made a suprised face at the 3 girls sitting on the couch.

her face made the 3 of you chuckle lightly, but soon your face twisted into a look of curiosity when the interviewer said, "well, y/n i know someone who has a crush on you!"

you perked up, slightly taken aback by what she had said. "oh, well.." you smiled lightly, "who is it?"

"bill kaulitz." the interviewer paused to look at you, and connie grabbed your arm while valerie's jaw hung open.

there was an awkward silence until you squeaked out, "..who..?"

"ohmygodhowdoyounotknowbillkaulitzwhattheacctualffuckheslikethehottestrockeronearthrightnow!!" Valerie shouted, almost breaking the sound barrier of the mic that was fixed onto the ceiling.

connie shot her a look that said 'slow the fuck down'

so she did exactly that.

"okay, y/n hes the guy who sings durch den monsun!! the song i was playing earlier on the way here..!" she shook your thigh as she spoke.

oh. my. god.

"THE bill kaulitz..? the spiky hair guy likes me?!" you squealed, realization hitting you like a bullet.

"yeah, he's totally smoking, shoot your shot girl!" the interviewer chimed in.

"oh yeah, he is hot.." you said slowly, lost in a long train of thought.

"alright guys! well thats today's interview with, connie, y/n, and valerie from b/n!" the interviewer giggled as the camera guy zoomed in on your dazed out expression.

you laughed out of embaressment and squeezed connies hand once you realized what you were doing.

and soon after the interview was over, your asistsnt came running to you.

"shit, you loook hot! like, you know, temperature hot!" she paused and looked you up and down, "do you need water? a wet towel?..."

but you accidentally drowned out her talking and brought your hand up to your cheek, which was in fact extremely temperature hot.

fuck, were you blushing?

------------------------------------------- time skip - 3 days later.

it was late at night, bills face was sticky with makeup remover and his hairwas pushed off of his forehead, he turned to his side to face tom, hoping he would have someone to talk to.

"tom?" bill whispered and smacked toms shoulder

"halt die klappe.." tom groaned in annoyance and rolled over, turning away from bill.

bill whined loudly and layed on his back, looking at his ceiling for a breif moment before reaching to the hotel nightstand, groping aimlessly until his hand landed on his computer, witched he swiftly grabbed and put in his lap.

he opened his computer and instantly he computers bright light hit his face.

bill squinted as he typed in his password. he waited a moment before he opened his browser, letting his eyes adjust to the light.

finally, he opened google and searched 'teen.com tv/(y/n/l/n)' and clicking the first video that came up.

he looked at your band members before laying his eyes on you and smiling like a fan girl.

he bit his manicured nail as he watched you talk, completely and utterly consumed by every word you said, and he giggled when he thought about the fact that he had sat in that exact interviewing room the weekend before

bill was lost deep in his thoughts when he heard someone a name that seemed extremely familiar.

his jaw dropped and he paused he video, staring at the screen for a few moments before rewinding the video.

had he heard that right?

he watched the video again.

"THE bill kaulitz..? the guy with spiky hair likes me?" your voice echoed out of his laptop

he watched in complete shock as you said this, blush creeping across his whole face.

his eyes stayed wide and his jaw still dropped as he played he video over and over again.

he couldn't watch the rest of the video.

he closed his browser and immediately went to his gmail, and pulled up his managers name.

he wrote faster then he ever had before, with all the typos it was hard to decipher, but he wrotr something along the lines of "hey!! please get m3 in contact with y/n/l/n!"

he attached the video clip of you saying "THE bill kaulitz..?" along with your manager's email address.

he shut the laptop, too stunned to eeven move.

he threw his head back and ran a hand through his hair.

bill fought the urge to shake tom awake and tell him, but knowing tom that wouldn't end well, so bill just laid splayed out on the bed until his phone buzzed

"bill? its me, y/n. my manager gave me your number. :) let me know if u wanna me up sometime, yeah?"

"holy shit" bill practically shouted

"mmm..." tom groaned and punched bill in his sleep.

but bill couldn't care less, THE y/n had just texted him.

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

2/18 drafts posted !!

and anon i know this isnt exactly what u wanted but i still hope u enjoy!!

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honeyhotteoks · 1 year

Text

sunday mornings (j.yh + p.sh)

summary: one sunday morning yunho and seonghwa decide they want more than just coffee, they want you; a husbands story deleted scene

note: this is not an official installment in the husbands series, more like a deleted scene of just straight smut, no real plot. still... it's feral and i figured you might all enjoy it still. however, please read the warnings, this is one of the most intense dom/sub scenes i've ever written.

warnings: non idol!yunho, non idol!seonghwa, fem!reader, established relationship, established dom/sub dynamics with hard dom seonghwa, hard dom yunho, sub reader. specific content warnings for: slight somno vibes, dub-con vibes though truly there is nothing but boundless consent here, pet play and use of the pet name 'puppy', collars and leashes, ball gags, bdsm, restraints, overstimulation, use of latex gloves, spitting, mean language like slut and whore, taunting and humiliation play, with a lil praise we gotta get our 'good girl's in there, intense fingering, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, rough and i mean rough sex, slapping of all kinds, impact play of all kinds, use of dildos, squirting, multiple orgasms/pussy torture.... basically the husbands fuck the hell out of her and engage in lots of pain play.

pairings: seonghwa x yunho x reader

genre: smut and more smut

word count: 8.2K

my masterlist || read it on AO3

You wake on Sunday morning to kisses along the back of your neck and familiar fingers slipping under the hem of your underwear. The warm weight of your husband’s body behind you in the yellow glow of the late morning sun. For a minute you let him explore you, let his hand part your thighs and the tip of his middle finger gently flick across your clit. He’s breathing softly, your hair shifting with his every exhale against your skin. His teeth pull gently at the necklace around your throat.

You don’t remember how you made it to bed last night, the last clear thought you have is the movie playing in the background and your head on Seonghwa’s thigh. Someone must have carried you upstairs, and judging by your bare legs and lack of bra, someone must have undressed you before tucking you in.

Yunho’s arm tightens around you, adjusting his positioning, reaching around as he searches you more, sliding one finger further through your folds and seeking some wetness to spread over your sex.

“Sweetheart,” He murmurs low, soft like he’s trying to ease you awake.

You keep your eyes shut, letting your body stay relaxed and pliant. You sigh softly as he pushes the tip of his finger inside you.

“Come on, my love,” He returns his fingers to your aching bud and circles softly, “it’s time to get up,”

You’re not sure if he knows you’re awake, normally if he does he teases more than this. He turns the moment into a punishment and holds you down on your front while he takes you rough and quick from behind, but this morning he’s moving slowly. This morning he has plans.

You stretch a little, your thighs parting.

“There’s my love,” He kisses down the exposed skin of your upper back, fingers rocking more firmly with every shift of your body into consciousness.

“Hi, baby,” You sigh, letting your eyes open finally.

“Morning,” He nips at your shoulder.

“Where’s Hwa?” You ask through a yawn as you realize he’s not on your other side.

“Coffee,” Yunho explains, staying focused on touching you.

You exhale slowly, letting him move you onto your back so he can touch more of you, “Did you just wake up?”

“Mhm,” He pushes his hand up your shirt and over your stomach, up further to cup your breast, “I had a dream about you,”

“Yeah?”

“And I woke up needing you,” He explains, lips traveling across your throat.

He’s rock hard against your thigh, his hips pushing against you to feel some friction and you slide your hands under the covers to find his bare chest. His teeth catch against your necklace again, tugging softly as he sighs hot across your pulsepoint.

“What about Hwa?” You tease him.

“I need him too,” He dismisses, “but that’s not what I want right now,”

“W-what do you want right now?” You ask, your voice caught when he pulls his hand out from under your shirt and cups your cheek, fingertips dragging down your neck.

His hand closes over your throat in an instant as he leans back to watch your eyes, “Can we play, sweetheart?”

A shock of warmth fires through your belly, heat pooling in your core and you wet your lips before nodding, “Please,”

His fingers squeeze just a little and then his hand releases, and despite the way you can see in his face that he wants to move so much more quickly than this he remembers himself, voice softening, “Are you sure?”

“Why?” You murmur, your fingertips coasting up his bare ribs.

“The other night,” He says, nodding, “I know we were rough, you can say no if you’re not feeling up to it,”

Three nights ago they had been rough. Your body twisted up and locked in place with silk ropes affixed to the hooks behind the headboard, their words had been harsh and demanding, and the way they both took you after what felt like hours of denial made your head spin and your legs numb by the time they released you into the soft sheets.

You crane up just enough to press a kiss to his lips, “I’m sure, baby, I feel fine,”

He studies your face for a moment, “You were sore Friday,”

You smile, “It’s Sunday,” you nudge him, “but if you don’t want to fuck me,”

He laughs and drags you up to his chest, kissing you soundly and shaking his head as he does, “No, no, I’m just checking,”

“Thank you,” You squeeze his hand, “but I feel good, and we don’t have any plans today,”

“True,” He murmurs

“You two do what you want to me,” You grin, pressing another kiss to his lips, “I’m all yours,”

His hand tightens on your hip and he swallows hard, “You might regret that, I’m in a mood,”

“I doubt that,” You roll your hips against him, catching his cock between your bodies.

“Yeah?” He smirks, “You do like my moods, don’t you,”

You can practically feel his words making you wetter. Downstairs the sound of the cabinets and dishes echo up and Yunho glances over his shoulder at the closed door.

You kiss his chest, just below his throat and sink into his skin, “I love your moods, Daddy,”

He groans at your words, his breath caught in his chest. You smile against his skin, knowing you’re giving him the perfect permission. You want him to put you on your knees so badly you could beg for it.

Yunho presses one more sweet kiss to your lips once he recovers and then pushes you off him and back into the center of the bed, “Take your panties off,”

“Yes, Daddy,” You respond, anticipation building as you slip them off and kick them beneath the sheets at your feet.

Yunho crosses to the closet, pulling open the doors and locating the long shelf where all your toys and gadgets are laid out ready for use. He slides it open and selects his favorite collar and leash, and then steps back towards you. His face is starting to even out, gain that smooth, dominant passivity that you love and you’re sure that you’re in for some punishment today.

In preparation, you gather your hair up high in a ponytail and secure it back and push yourself up on your knees.

He stands before you, thumb rubbing against the leather of the collar, “Tell me, what are you, baby?”

“A good puppy,” You respond with practiced ease.

“Who’s good puppy?”

“Daddy’s,” You answer instantly, “and master’s,”

“That’s right, pretty girl,” He murmurs, his tone slightly exaggerated like he’s speaking to a child. He unhooks the collar and places it around your neck, securing the black loop of leather around your throat. He slips a finger in between the fabric and your skin to ensure it’s not too tight or too loose, and then he clips on the leash to the front loop.

He gives it an experimental tug, just enough to ensure it’s latched properly and then he smiles, “How’s that, puppy?”

“Good,” You promise him, “perfect,”

“Alright,” He murmurs, “let’s surprise Seonghwa,”

He steps away, stretching as he does and adjusting his black t-shirt, and you watch him carefully, waiting for instructions. It’s so easy to get into this headspace with them after so much time, years spent growing your levels of comfort with each other. In moments like this, every ounce of stress and worry falls away from your mind, and you know they’ll lead you safely into everything you need. Years ago you would be bubbling with nerves, but now you can just feel your skin tingling in anticipation, so you wait patiently.

Yunho turns back to you and lifts the leash in his hand, beckoning you forwards, “Come,”

“Yes, Daddy,” You answer with ease and a flicker of a smile passes over his lips before he clears his throat and lets the smooth mask of play fall into place.

He leads you down in front of the bed with the leash, not pulling but guiding, until you’re squarely at the foot of the bed on your knees with your head bowed in supplication. Yunho settles himself behind you, seated on the bench in front of the bed, and he opens his legs to place one on either side of you.

The leash pulls softly at your throat and you straighten up with its guidance.

“Show him how pretty you look, pup,” He instructs until your back is perfectly straight and his hand slides over the front of your neck, dragging up to hold your jaw steady.

You hear the creak of the stairs from the hall.

“That’s right,” Yunho’s other hand wraps around the leash to keep it in his grip before he moves his hand hotly over your body through your thin sleep shirt, his fingertips tugging at your nipples. You whimper at the harsh tug, “Shh, shh, I won’t hurt you,”

A pretty lie from his lips as he pinches your skin, but you lock lips shut and breathe slowly through your nose at the sensation, pleasure bubbling in your core again at his attention.

Seonghwa’s footfalls are audible now as he crosses the landing to your bedroom, and then the door opens. He’s paying absolutely no attention, three cups of coffee balanced in his hands as he pushes the door open with his hip and keeps his eyes trained on the liquid in the cups to ensure nothing spills over onto the floor.

“Good morning,” His voice is soft and pleasant, quiet so he doesn’t inadvertently wake you, “I hope you didn’t steal all the covers,”

Yunho’s fingers tighten on your jaw and you hear him laugh softly, “Not exactly,”

“So then you’re,” He finally looks up, the words dying in his throat and you watch him struggle not to dip the coffee out at the sight of you and Yunho.

You’d laugh if you thought you’d get away with it without punishment.

“Well,” Seonghwa grins, his eyebrows shooting up high, “good morning to me.”

“That’s the idea,” Yunho smirks.

Seonghwa laughs softly and spins slowly to place the coffee cups on the dresser, “Did she just get up?”

A thrill runs through your belly at the way he doesn’t even look in your eyes, picking up immediately on the tone in the room and what Yunho wants to do with you.

“Mhm,” Yunho lifts the hem of your shirt to expose your bare lower half, “she woke up so wet and wanting, darling,”

“Is that right?” Seonghwa murmurs, running a hand through his long black hair.

Yunho’s quiet for a moment, and then he taps your cheek with his index finger, “Seonghwa asked you a question, pup.”

“Yes, sir,” You jump at the chance to speak now that you’ve been acknowledged.

His eyes flick down to yours and you see a softness there for the briefest moment before he straightens up and crosses the room to stand in front of you, “I’d like to see for myself,”

“Yes, sir,”

He drops to a crouch, only inches away from you now, and his fingers tap your bare thigh, “Open up,”

Despite the rough drag of the carpet under your knees, you part your legs open.

“Yeobo,” Seonghwa says to your husband, “has our sweet puppy been touched yet today?”

“A little,” Yunho confirms, “just a warm up,”

Without meeting your gaze, Seonghwa’s hand pushes between your legs and his fingers find your wet slit, rocking back and forth to gauge your wetness. You physically fight the urge to roll your hips into his hand or make a sound.

“Perfect,” He breathes.

A small sigh makes it through your lips.

Sometimes you don’t know which of them will take the lead, and given the way Yunho woke you and spoke to you, if you were betting in this moment you would have said him. Seonghwa’s still wearing his sleep pants with a kitschy cute print, he just entered the scene, he hasn’t had more than a minute to adapt and sink into the headspace, and yet when your eyes meet his again you know you’ve never been more wrong.

His gaze is hard, passive and dismissive, and with ease he addresses Yunho without breaking eye contact with you, “I want her in the chair, and I want you both stripped. Now.”

Yunho drops your chin and your leash immediately, his hands finding the edge of your shirt to pull it up and over your head before tossing it to the side. When he moves to strip off his own clothes, Seonghwa reaches forward to take your face in his hand.

“Open,” He says.

Your lips part obediently.

“Wider,” He scolds, delivering a tight slap to your cheek.

You whine, but your mouth drops open wider and you extend your tongue.

Seonghwa angles your face upwards with his hand, spitting directly into your mouth and delivering another quick slap, “Swallow.”

You don’t make the same mistake twice, and you clamp your lips shut and swallow, letting him watch the bob of your throat so he knows you’re being honest.

“Chair,” Seonghwa repeats to Yunho, “Now.”

The leash grows taut suddenly, and Yunho stands and shifts to your side, stripped bare now with his cock standing hard and aching pink before you.

Your lips part softly at the sight and Seonghwa laughs. “Such a little slut,” He teases, “one look at his cock and you want a taste?”

“Yes, sir,”

“Too bad,” He shrugs.

He stands a moment later, moving out of your eye line behind you, and though you hear the shift of the bed, the drag of drawers opening and the rustle of fabric, you don’t even think about turning to look.

“Pup,” Yunho tugs the leash and you lurch forward to follow his hand, bracing yourself on the floor with one hand, “come.”

“Yes, Daddy,” You manage, finding your balance on your hands and knees, scrambling a little to keep up with how tight the lead is and how quickly he’s pulling you forwards across the bedroom floor.

He makes a displeased noise with his tongue against his teeth and then suddenly there’s no tightness in the leash at all and his hands are on you, lifting you up off the ground with ease before depositing you into the aforementioned chair. He pushes your legs open wide and you comply quickly to get into position but he shakes his head, “You need to do better than this, puppy.”

You huff softly as he pulls your body into the position he wants. This chair normally sits in the corner of your bedroom looking nothing but decorative, but it’s a favorite for moments like this. As he locates the silk ropes in the nearby storage ottoman, you realize several things at once. The chair beneath you is covered in plush towels, Seonghwa has shucked off his pajama pants in favor of just boxers, and in his hands he holds a collection of toys.

Your muscles clench.

“Stay still, baby,” Yunho murmurs as he drops down in front of you, winding the silks tightly around your skin.

You’re nervous, desperately so, like you always are before a scene like this. You fell into this morning so quickly it feels especially unpredictable, but that’s always part of the fun. Yunho ties your legs tightly together and affixes you well to each arm of the chair, leaving you spread open, unable to close your legs no matter how hard you try.

He smooths a hand up your shin once he’s done, and checks his knots, “Color?”

“Green,” You assure him.

“Good,” Seonghwa’s voice enters the mix as he steps closer, “now tell us, puppy,” he says with a wry smile, “what do you want?”

Yunho’s hand slowly shifts down your inner thigh.

You swallow hard, your hips jerking involuntarily as Yunho’s finger’s coast over the top of your mound, “I want to be good for you, sir,” you confess, your voice breathy and tight.

“I’m sure you do,” Seonghwa nods and then he reaches out and gives Yunho’s shoulder a squeeze, silently communicating that he should shift away from you.

“Hwa,” Yunho starts to say, but Seonghwa jumps back in.

“y/n,” He steps to your side, “open wide again,”

“Yes, sir,” You lean your head back, mouth falling open.

“That’s a good girl,” He coos.

“Thank you, sir,” You sigh before returning your mouth to its open position.

“Yunho,” Seonghwa murmurs, passing him most of the items in his hands. When Seonghwa reaches out to you, you see the ball gag in his hands and he nods, “that’s right, that’s a very good girl.”

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly, calming your fluttering heart rate and opening yourself up to their desires. He tucks the ball between teeth and watches you carefully as you slide it into the right place and get comfortable with the obstruction. You make sure you can still breathe somewhat around the ball, but mostly make sure that you can freely take steady breaths in and out through the nose.

When he’s sure you’re ready, and you give him one small nod, he wraps the leader around the back of your head and secures it tightly.

“Hands?” He asks, and you know he’s giving you the option but you don’t care, you extend them out and press them together.

“Such a good girl today,” Yunho hums, pressing a kiss to your shin as he leans against you, “maybe we should reward her,”

“We’ll see,” Seonghwa says, wrapping your wrists tightly together with a familiar silky rope of black fabric.

“You’re in a mood,” Yunho chuckles.

“I’m not the one who put our girl on a platter,” He smiles, and he lets your hands drop, “and besides, she likes it.”

“Oh, I know,”

“Now,” Seonghwa takes a step back, gathering the top section of his hair into a bun and securing it neatly with an elastic from his wrist, “one more thing,”

You can feel yourself trembling, your hips already starting to ache from their prone position, and you think to yourself that if he brings out a blindfold too you’ll have to stop the scene. Your skin already feels flushed and tingly, your whole body tight on a razor wire and you don’t think you can handle a single thing more.

But instead of blindfold, Seonghwa snaps up a little cube shaped object from your bedside table and presses it into your hands. You recognize it immediately and without hesitation you press the button on the one curved side, the object strobing a sharp white light in fast flashes. Once you register that it’s on and working you click the button again and extinguish the light.

“Good,” Seonghwa murmurs, “tell me again darling, what do you do when you want to stop?”

You press the button once more, the light flashing white.

“And for an emergency?” He asks, holding your gaze.

You find the small switch on the side and push it to the right and then click the button again. The light flashes red now, an insistent bright hue where there can be no mistaking of your intentions.

“Very good,” He nods as you click the light back off and slide the indicator into the safe position. Seonghwa picks up one more item on the table to your side, “Yunho, behind her, please,”

“Anything you like, yeobo,” Yunho gives you one last squeeze, and then he’s gone from your field of vision.

Your fingers fiddle with the object in your hands. You’ve only used it once or twice to slow a scene in the whole time you’ve been together, but you’ve never flicked it red. Once when you were dizzy, mouth stuffed full and everything in your brain starting to swim deliriously towards unconsciousness, you had flicked the indicator into the red position, but they had noticed the change in your body in seconds and stopped before you even decided to press stop.

Behind you, you feel the heat of Yunho’s chest as he settles close and waits for more, the leash sliding over your shoulder and disappearing behind you as he turns your collar around.

“Hold her steady,” Seonghwa instructs, and then he drops to his knees before you.

You’re trembling in anticipation, your clit pulsing with need between your legs, and you’re sure that if he doesn’t touch you soon, you might fall apart from anxious need alone.

With no warning, he lays one hand over your mound and cups you, and you realize he needed the moment to put on a pair of black latex gloves. Your hips jump.

“She likes it,” Yunho murmurs low, “look at her,”

“Mm,” Seonghwa nods, applying pressure with his fingers and rocking them in a circle once, “that’s because she’s ours. She always likes what we give her,”

A sound bubbles up from your throat and Seonghwa chuckles, “Oh, you do don’t you?”

He taps his hand once, a quick slap against your swollen nub, and your head falls back as you moan.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Seonghwa slaps your cunt again, “eyes on me,”

You breathe through the sensation pulsing through your core and lift your heavy head back up. Yunho drags the leash to help direct your head and then steps close to brace you against his body.

Seonghwa smiles, his hand massaging you a few more times before he lifts it and glances up to Yunho, “Let’s see how quickly our silly puppy will make a mess,”

His fingers are inside you before you have a chance to take a breath, and your teeth clamp down on the silicone ball as you moan sharply.

Seonghwa crooks his gloved fingers just right, and then his hand starts to pulse. He starts off shallow at first, knuckles pressed up to your slick folds as he simply pushes his fingers deeper in short little bursts, the sensations in your belly doubling as he strokes his fingertips over your spongy g-spot again and again.

Your body jerks in the chair, a groan caught somewhere in the back of your throat.

“You like it that much, pup?” Yunho’s lips against your ear send a shock through you, “You really are such a little whore, aren’t you?”

“Our whore,” Seonghwa grins, and he delivers a slap to your inner thigh with his free hand as he picks up the pace of his opposite.

You moan tightly, teeth digging into the ball now, and Seonghwa starts to fuck you in earnest on his fingers, fast and hard and as deep as he can reach at this angle. It doesn’t feel good, not really, it feels tight and humiliating and your chest is broken out in a pink panicked flush, but it only takes a few more moments of that initial discomfort until the bubble inside you starts to build.

You choke a curse around the ball in your mouth, hands gripping together tightly.

“Our whore who’s going to make a mess for her masters,” Seonghwa pants, adjusting his angle and driving into you more forcefully, “over and over again.”

You moan tightly, pressure dropping low in your abdomen.

“Isn’t that right?” Seonghwa groans, never changing the pace of his hand.

You moan tightly, nodding as best you can to comply, but the tautness of the leash keeps you stiff.

“Make a mess,” Seonghwa commands, “come on,”

The pressure in your belly drops further, a tight, tense feeling that almost brings tears to your eyes. You whine desperately, clamping your eyes shut, sensations washing through you, and your body tries to jerk and respond but you’re incredibly stuck stock still.

“Come when I say,” Seonghwa directs you and your eyes fly open to watch him.

You moan, choked against the ball.

“You come in three,” He begins to count, his fingers crooking inside you and his opposite hand pressing down over your abdomen, “two…”

Yunho grips you harder and the sound that leaves you is one of muffled desperation.

“One,” Seonghwa orders you, and your body crumbles, trained perfectly to their commands.

All at once the pressure snaps open and you feel your cunt pulsing, all but forcing his fingers out of you as you squirt clear liquid in a rush.

“Good girl,” Seonghwa encourages, his hand flattening over your clit to rub back and forth harshly, your release splattering across your thighs and his bare chest, “oh, what a good girl,”

Your chest heaves as you breathe deeply through your nose, trying to settle your trembling body, but he doesn’t even give you a moment of reprieve. The sound of a vibrator makes your eyes flash, searching for the source of the noise and then he lifts the wand.

“Relax,” Yunho soothes you, petting your hair and giving your shoulder a squeeze, “be good,”

You nod, pressing into his hand and he hums pleasantly.

“Listen to Daddy, baby,” Seonghwa smiles, a little taunting and you wonder how this is about to go, your conscious thoughts starting to slip back.

The wand connects hard with your clit a second later and you all but shriek against the gag, shaking your head hard and your hips jutting.

“Stop squirming,” Seonghwa orders, delivering a harsh slap to the back of your thigh. The position you’re in has you bent in half, almost in a perfect press and at the flash of pain through your backside from his hand you settle, letting your legs sink back.

He circles the vibrator, rocking it over your clit again and again and your body flushes pink with pleasure and stinging pain. Your hips rock again, just the smallest amount to try and disconnect the powerful vibrations from your aching clit for just a second so you can get your head around the sensations and he hums, displeased.

He lifts the wand and delivers another harsh slap, his slick glove against your bare skin, stinging and turning your flesh redder and more numb, “You’re being selfish, puppy,”

You whimper, shaking your head a little.

“You are.” He insists, “I thought you said you wanted to be good for us.”

You nod, trembling.

“Then you’ll sit still,” He lets his hand crack down against your skin again and you tighten your teeth around the ball, moaning against it.

A hand winds into your hair suddenly and Yunho tugs your head backwards. You yelp in surprise, eyes watering.

“If you want to touch Daddy’s cock,” He says, with no sympathy in his voice, “you’ll take every bit of what you get, do you understand me?”

You make a muffled noise.

“I said, do you understand me, puppy?” His free hand delivers a stinging slap to your cheek, “Answer,”

You whine a yes and then a yes, Daddy for good measure. You try to nod but his fist in your hair holds you too still and you wait to see if he’s accepted your garbled words.

“Very good,” He nods, his hand loosening slightly, “now hush,”

The vibrator lands once again on your pulsing clit and you cry out against your restraints, but this time you don’t move your hips, you take it just like they told you to. Your bound hands have nowhere to go, the cube twisting in your fingers as your arms shake, and Yunho’s hand wraps around your wrists to tug them back up into your chest and keep them out of Seonghwa’s way.

“Better,” Seonghwa says, pressing down harder with the bulbous head of the vibrator, “there you go,”

Everything feels sharp, aching and barely pleasurable, but you trust them.

“A wet little mess,” Seonghwa teases you, rolling the vibrator in a circular pattern, lifting it and spitting once again, this time directly over your sex, “look at that,”

He shifts his hand now, dragging the vibrator up and over your bud and then off it completely before repeating the motion, a rhythmic teasing of your most sensitive parts that leaves you choking moans against your gag.

“Don’t come,” He presses the vibrator down hard and your eyes tighten shut, a keening sound against the gag now, “hold it.”

You can’t, there’s no way, the flood of heat through your body and the rush of sudden pleasure between your thighs is so strong you feel like you might crack open in his hands. You whine, your wrists jerking against Yunho’s wide palm, but all you get in return is a tug against the collar that silently communicates everything you need to know - don’t move.

“Hold it,” Seonghwa repeats, shifting closer on his knees, adjusting the angle of the vibrator, and laying one wet, gloved hand on your tender thigh.

The sound that leaves you is animal, somewhere between a moan and a sob and if you had any conscious thought left in your body you’d be glad the walls are thick in this apartment so that no one can hear you but them.

“Now, come now,” Seonghwa commands and your brain blanks, ears ringing hard as your body responds to him, your legs trembling uncontrollably as the waves of pleasure roll through you.

Your breath is caught, your mind spinning, and you jump with a start when Seonghwa drops the vibrator and pushes something thick inside you.

“Mm!” Your head snaps up, fighting against the position Yunho has you in, and you feel him give you a little slack so you don’t actually injure your throat straining against the collar.

“Don’t whine,” Seonghwa scolds, “you can take more than this any day,”

Your eyes fill with unshed tears, the sudden intrusion of the dildo startling you in a way you really hadn’t expected, and you don’t mean to try and pull away from the toy, but your hips do it anyway. He pulls it free and drops a slap over your core, and you write against them with a tight cry. Your fingers twist the safety indicator in your hands and your thumb finds the curved button, but you don’t press it quite yet, you wait and breathe deep and let your panic settle.

“Tell her,” Seonghwa directs.

The toy plunges back inside you, deep in one shockingly quick thrust and you suddenly can barely breathe. The dildo itself is a standard size, no bigger than either of your partners, but with the position you’re twisted into and the relentlessness of Seonghwa’s attention, you can barely take it. You can feel your walls pulsing around it, hot and fluttering.

Yunho nips at your ear, dragging your head to one side so you can hear his low voice, “We want you to come again,”

You huff against the gag.

“All over,” He kisses your throat, dragging his teeth over your pulsepoint, “can you do that for us, baby?”

You make a noise, just enough to confirm you’re still with them.

Seonghwa pulls the toy back and thrusts forwards again, only this time he doesn’t pause and let you get accustomed to the feeling, this time he goes faster, harder. You squeal against the gag and pull tight again against the leash, and this time Seonghwa reaches up to take the lead from Yunho and drag it forward between your legs.

“You like being our filthy little toy?” Seonghwa asks you, tone laced with mocking sympathy, “A doll for us to fuck when we feel like it?”

Your eyes roll back, a tightening in your gut, the sounds of the room nothing but lewd and wet and careless.

“Eyes up, pup,” Yunho’s deep voice in your ear makes you moan but he punctuates his words with a firm slap against your breast and you jolt up again.

“So rude,” Seonghwa tuts, “can’t even answer a simple question,”

You moan something garbled, but you don’t even know what you were trying to say.

“Is your head so full of cock you can’t even think straight?” Seonghwa laughs, tugging the leash again until you’re straining forward and moaning at the aching position, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Dirty girl,” Yunho bites down on your shoulder.

“Fucking filthy,” Seonghwa curses, letting the leash go suddenly and you fall back hard with a whimper. He slaps your thigh again and you jerk.

For a moment they let you lay back as reclined as you can be in the chair in this pretzel of a position, but the dildo doesn’t stop, the curve perfectly angled to press up into your g-spot over and over again. You’re going to come, the realization slamming into you like a train and with the gag in your mouth there’s no way to ask for permission.

You squirm in the chair, blinking hard and whining against the ball, trying to get their attention so they realize. You don’t want to break a rule, you can’t take much more, but it’s going to happen anyways.

“There we go, there we go,” Seonghwa thrusts the toy as quickly as he can, his fingers digging into your thigh where he holds you steady. He’s talking to himself now, watching his work.

You moan against the gag, and if your mouth was free you’d be asking - Sir, please may I come?

And he’d say yes.

And you’d fall into pieces in his palms.

Instead all you can do is whine, and he drops a hard slap to your thigh, and it’s all over. You release hard, fluid erupting from your abused core yet again as he pulls back the dildo on one of the thrusts, forcing it free. Your bound hands break out of Yunho’s hold and you shove them downwards to try and cover yourself, to try and get him to stop torturing you with the silicone cock. The sounds you make are harsh and wheezing, tears streaming down your temples.

Seonghwa slaps your hands back and drags the head of the dildo over your clit fast, dragging out the intensity of your orgasm and making a wet mess of you both as he does. In the moments after, as your shaking body comes down from the hardest orgasm yet, you realize the rest of the morning is not going to go like any of you planned.

“Disappointing,” Seonghwa’s hand connects once again with your thigh and you can already see how red and aching the flesh there is, “you know the rules,”

You whimper against the gag.

“If you wanted to come on a cock that badly,” He spanks you again, “you should have waited for us,”

You squeak, shaking your head, eager to explain yourself.

“No, no,” Seonghwa hand comes down again, lighting up your skin with pins and needles, “you be quiet,”

You swallow hard, jaw aching against the gag.

Seonghwa reaches up, picking up the leash as it lays down your front, and he pulls it just enough that you have to arch your head up to follow it. He licks his lips and sighs, trading a quick look with Yunho, “I was going to let you out after that last one,” he says, “and take you both to bed.”

“Is that so?” Yunho murmurs, kissing your shoulder.

The tenderness does little to quell your nerves, you feel the way his hands grip you.

“Mhm,” Seonghwa nods, “I was going to fuck you soft, like you like sometimes in the mornings. Maybe make you come on my tongue,”

Your breath leaves you in a shudder.

“I would have let you rut your sweet self on Daddy’s thigh until you fell asleep,” His eyes turn soft, apologetic even, “but I can’t do that now.”

You sob softly against the gag.

“Now you need a lesson,” He pushes away from you, standing and gesturing for Yunho to follow.

You watch them as they work, adjusting your binds so that you tip further back into a proper press and they adjust the chair so that they can access you the way they need to. Your legs are open wider now, the ache in your hips deep, but you wait, you wanted this.

Yunho pulls the binds on your gag unexpectedly, the ball falling loose from your mouth and you groan at the sore state of your jaw.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” He says, pushing a hand back into your hair.

“Y-yes, Daddy,” Your throat feels hoarse and tired, but you clear your throat lightly and let his hand against your scalp support the weight of your exhausted neck.

Yunho adjusts his stance by your side and comes closer, his leaking cock an inch away from your cheek. As Seonghwa moves between your spread thighs, Yunho finds your hands and opens your fingers, checking to see that your safety light is still tucked between your hands. You give him the smallest nod, and he gives your fingers a squeeze.

“This time,” Seonghwa interrupts your thoughts as he braces himself on the chair and finds the right positioning for him to be able to sink his hard length inside you, “you don’t come until I say.”

“Yes, sir,” You confirm with a sigh.

“Good girl,” He says, and then he slides home.

You moan, voice unobstructed this time, your head falling back into Yunho’s wide palm.

“Come on, pretty,” Yunho shakes you a little as Seonghwa starts to work his hips, “you wanted to suck Daddy’s cock so bad and now you’re too tired?”

You shake your head, blinking hard and turning your face towards his aching length, letting your mouth fall open and extending your tongue.

“Good,” He soothes you, and then he dips forwards, sinking his hardness past your lips and down your throat.

You grip your hands tightly together and steady your breathing through your nose.

“Taking it all like a good fucking slut,” Seonghwa sighs, jutting his hips up and forcing the rest of himself deep in your cunt, “God, I can feel it, you’re gripping me like a vice, baby,”

Your head goes fuzzy at the sudden praise.

Yunho adjusts his position, leaning over you and bracing himself on the edge of the table behind the chair with the hand that isn’t cupping the back of your head. He thrusts once, experimental to test your limits and the position, and you moan against his cock as it connects with the soft back of your throat.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa curses his fingers gripping your side, “you should feel her,”

“Mm-mm,” Yunho shakes his head, “I like her choking on my cock,”

“Of course you do,” Seonghwa laughs, thrusting hard and knocking his hips into yours.

“Pretty little cockslut,” Seonghwa grunts as he pistons his hips faster, every thrust stretching you wide and sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, “isn’t that right?”

You moan around Yunho’s thrusting cock, your eyes clamping shut as you try to focus on your breath and let them take what they want from you.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa huffs, mocking, “that’s right, puppy,”

Your eyes roll back, body locking up, another orgasm so close you can almost brush right against it.

“I bet you want me to come inside you,” Seonghwa says hot against your skin, “I know how you beg for it,”

Your body jerks, your hands scrambling against his chest but he ignores you.

“You think you deserve that, baby?” Seonghwa presses messy, angry kisses over your chest, teeth catching on your skin.

You whine, gripping your hands tighter, your head swimming. You’d nod if you could, say yes, say anything if you could.

“I’m,” Yunho chokes, his hips rolling into you forcefully as he drags your head forwards with every thrust of his cock through your lips, “H-Hwa,”

“Make her swallow,” Seonghwa tells him, ordering him just as much as he’s ordering you.

Yunho groans, locking your head against his pubic bone as he spills himself down the back of your throat in one final, shaking thrust. You choke against him, spluttering a little and trying to pull back but he holds you steady. Your fingers find the curved side of the safety light once more, but he pulls back before you have to use it.

You swallow hastily, less in an effort to take his release and more in an effort to take a deep breath of air, but his fingers find your chin to tip your head back so you don’t waste a drop as you sputter and cough.

“That’s my good girl,” He soothes you, “so sweet for letting me use her mouth,”

You sigh, swallowing again and leaning your cheek against his palm.

Yunho takes a deep breath and then reaches past you, reproducing the gag.

“N-no, wait,” You take a deep breath and scramble to find Seonghwa’s eyes, but he’s intensely focused on the sight of his cock plunging in and out of your aching slit, muttering obscenities through his own sounds of pleasure.

Yunho gives you a full second to click on the light and stop things, but when you don’t he moves forwards and stuffs the ball back into your mouth, securing the grip behind your head.

“Shh, shh,” he strokes your hair, “you can do it,”

You’re not sure that you can, but you nod.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa pants, collapsing over you further as Yunho shifts away from you, “you feel like heaven,”

Your walls clench around him, the sudden rush of pleasure building again inside you.

He tugs your hair, pumping his hips in deep snaps that run sharp pulses of pleasure up your spine, “Come on my cock,” he commands, “Now, baby, come on,”

You sob against the gag, so close you want to reach out and take it, sweat breaking across your brow, blush across your body.

“I know you’re close,” Seonghwa taunts, “I know you, baby, I own you,”

Your head drops back, swimming with an explosion of another orgasm, your vision swimming, but suddenly he’s gone, no longer inside you and stimulating you and dragging you up and over the edge. You cry out, harsh and desperate and needy, your cunt clenching around nothing.

Your eyes stay shut, you can’t muster the strength to lift your head.

He says something more, but you can’t quite make it out, and you feel it when he comes hot and wet across your belly.

The vibrator presses down on your clit once more, and he turns up the intensity, and once again you jolt, a broken, raspy cry from your throat.

“Now,” Seonghwa commands once more, “now, hard, come on,”

The pain of your overstimulated clit is almost too much to bear but he rocks the vibrator just right one more time and the orgasm he snatched away from you a moment ago rips you back under tenfold. Every part of you is aching, muscles screaming and joints stiff, but this final wave of ecstatic, orgasmic pleasure loosens the last conscious fibers of your mind, leaving you floating and boneless. You can’t quite feel anything anymore except a dull buzzing through every inch of your skin. The little light in your hands falls free, clattering to the floor.

It takes a moment for your ears to stop ringing, but when they do the first thing you hear is the soft voices of your husbands.

“Get her legs,” Seonghwa instructs, and then his fingers are in your hair uncoupling the gag from your mouth, “Jagiya, can you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” You breathe as the gag falls away, and soft fingers find your jaw to massage warm circles into your skin.

“Open your eyes, jagiya,” Seonghwa murmurs, “come on,”

You blink furiously, fighting with the rush of light and the misty tears that cloud your vision.

“Come on,” Seonghwa murmurs, his fingers sweeping through your hair, “there we go, give me a deep breath,”

You take a deep inhale in through the nose, and Yunho finally loosens the ropes around your legs enough so that they unfurl, an ache suddenly ringing up your thighs through your lower back. On your exhale the pain of it makes you cry out softly and you let your legs fall slack.

“Darling,” Seonghwa cups your cheek, bringing your eyes to his, “this is very important, alright?”

You nod.

“Does anything hurt?” He asks calmly, thumb stroking along your cheek.

“Hips,” You manage, but if you’re being honest your jaw is sore too.

“Okay,” He nods, “anything else?”

Your head floods with dizzy confusion, the influx of oxygen too much to handle and you let your eyes droop closed again, your head feeling heavy.

Seonghwa’s hand cups your head to keep it from lolling backwards and you feel his fingers on the collar, “Yunho, do you,”

“I’ve got it,” Yunho replies smoothly, and you feel his hands on your skin, strong arms lifting you up as the collar falls away.

“Mm,” You sigh, blinking again to open your eyes and get your bearings, “where?”

“Shh,” Yunho soothes you, “we’re just going to bed, sweetheart,”

You suddenly feel like falling, your brain floating and disconnected, and the next time you open your eyes it’s to both of their faces above you.

“y/n,” Seonghwa asks, gently tapping your cheek to get your eyes to focus on him, “tell me again, what hurts?”

This time, your brain seems to start working. You exhale slowly, taking stock of your limbs and stretching against the sheets, “I’m okay,”

“Are you sure?” He cups your cheek, “Think for a minute,”

You shake your head, winding your fingers together with his, “I’m good, for a second I was stiff, but I’m good,”

Yunho’s fingers slide over your bare hips and start to press gentle circles into your skin. He watches your face carefully for any signs of deeper discomfort and murmurs, “You’re supposed to use the light if you feel dizzy,”

“I know,” You breathe, “it happened quick,”

His lips close and he nods, focused again on your stiff limbs.

“Next time you have to tell us,” Seonghwa presses, “alright?”

“I promise,” You swear, “I just couldn’t think straight there for a minute,”

Seonghwa sighs, relieved and exhausted, and he drops lower on the bed to kiss you, “You did so beautifully, baby,”

“Yeah?”

“You were perfect,” He assures you, voice relaxing now that he knows once again you’re fine and responsive.

“Can you hold me?” You murmur against his cheek, “please?”

“Of course, of course, I can,” He peppers kisses over your face, easing down into the covers gathering you close, “how’s this?”

“Good,” You nod.

His hand caresses your back, massaging your sore muscles.

“Yunho, you too,” You sigh with your cheek against Seonghwa’s bare chest, and you reach up blindly for your other husband’s hand.

“I’m right here,” He murmurs, slipping behind you and snuggling close, “how do you feel?”

“Warm,” You murmur, “and so sleepy,”

“You rest,” Yunho kisses your shoulder, “you did so well for us, my love,”

“You liked it?” You blink, trying to find their hands to hold.

Yunho’s hand closes over you and Seonghwa’s entwined fingers and brings them to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles to try to ease you, “I loved it, I love you,”

“I love you too,” You sigh.

Seonghwa caresses your cheek softly, “He’s right, you did so well, and I know you pushed yourself today,”

“Yeah,” You feel a little rush of emotions, thankful that he noticed the way you quelled your own panic to trust that they would keep you safe.

“We’ll always take care of you, my darling,” He kisses your hair, warm hands stroking your skin, “and it means so much to us that you trust us, just don’t push yourself too hard next time,”

You can’t fight the yawn, but you nod, “I will, I’m sorry,”

“Hwa,” Yunho murmurs softly.

“Hmm?”

There’s a quiet exchange above you, but you’re too tired to make it out. Seonghwa’s hand untangles from yours and his fingers rest along your jaw. Slowly he massages the muscles there, giving you relief you didn’t even know you needed after the aching extension of your mouth for so long around the gag.

“We’ll talk about everything later,” Yunho murmurs, “she’s exhausted,”

“You’re right,” Seonghwa murmurs, and then he shifts to soothe you, “y/n, you sleep now, and Yunho and I will be here when you wake up, alright?”

“Mhm,” Your body starts to go boneless.

“I love you so much,” He presses a warm kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” You breathe, your stiff joints relaxing under their hands.

“I know, darling,” Seonghwa murmurs, his voice starting to sound far away, “we know,”

It’s hours before you wake again, but when you do they’re with you, just as he said. Between them you stay held, cherished, never a broken promise between you.

#honeyhotteoks fics #ateez smut #ateez ff #ateez fic #ateez #yunho #yunho smut #yunho ff #seonghwa #seonghwa ff #seonghwa smut #yunhwa husbands #yunho x reader #seonghwa x reader

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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msnanu · 5 months

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Libertine 05 | JJK

Libertines put value on physical pleasures, meaning those experienced through the senses.

❧ Series Masterlist ❧

⏤summary ❧ He has a reputation for being the most promiscuous man on campus, and you, well, you are basically him in women’s pants. It will be the very first time that Jungkook is faced with someone who is gonna make him question his feelings and actions.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ❧ f*boy jungkook x f*girl female reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 ❧ some fluff, smut, mild angst, teasing and lots of sexual tension.

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ❧ mature language, NSFW🔞

❧ banner by: @dojakoo ❧

Jungkook was lying on the couch in his house while looking at the ceiling. It was extremely plausible to say that his Sunday was being a bore compared to his last two days of the week.

His friends weren't planning to leave the house, you weren’t there for him to distract himself, and Seulgi was ignoring his calls. It was a horrible Sunday.

Despite the inertia that Jungkook's body was in, his head felt like a deep well, running at the speed of light.

All his thoughts, or most of them, were on you. He was trying to understand what was going on in your head, and of course, he was failing miserably.

There were no explanations for your actions, he could never know what your next move would be. He couldn’t quite understand how you had sex with one of his friends and then kissed him as if nothing had happened.

Funny thing tho, he has done the same thing various times, sleeping with a girl and then moving on to her best friend, and even worse. He had once slept with the sister of a previous hook up, both within the same week. But he was never the one in this position, it was as if the roles had been reversed. It was weird as fuck and Jungkook hated the feeling of not knowing what to do.

If only he knew how you felt about him, maybe he'd know better how to deal with you.

Jungkook thought you were considerate of him, even if minimally. But he also thought you purposely tortured him because you hated guys like him – which wasn’t too far away from the truth. For Jungkook, it was an unanswered puzzle.

That introspective moment was making him rethink his attitude to Jimin. If you were doing all this just for the sake of your fun, there was no reason for him to take it personally. It was always a problem for him when he got carried away by the judgment of his own dick.

It was new for him to feel that kind of feeling. It wasn't really remorse, but it was a feeling that he could have looked at things differently. This had never happened. Most of the time Jungkook thought he was right and went on living.

He felt weird.

His thoughts then returned to you. Jungkook remembered the girl talking about classical literature in his car. She was a nice girl, a nice person to be friends with, but not something he was used to doing. He fucked and left.

He didn't even know if you would want to be friends with him, but he preferred to ignore any and all possibility of getting closer to you than usual.

The rest of his day was like that: complete boredom, and the certainty that this week he would resolve his "situation" with you. Whether it's finally going to bed with you or ending that chase for good.

On Monday morning Jungkook didn't have his first class, but he was determined to find you. So, he woke up early and, as confident as ever, headed off to college. People had already seen him walking down those halls anyway, it wouldn't make a difference.

Luckily for him, he saw you heading towards the Classical Literature corridors. He hurried to stop you on the way and spare himself any more stares from your fellow humanities.

“Hey!” He yelled, trying to reach you.

You turned to him with a frown. He found it amazing how carefree you always looked.

“Are you lost?” You asked, convinced.

“I don't think so. I think I'm really where I'm supposed to be.”

You chuckled. “God. You’re impossible.”

Jungkook couldn’t help to smile at you, he realized that you had enjoyed seeing him there. Maybe just like him, you liked to feel like you'd gotten attention. If you really liked the attention, Jungkook knew he was on the right track.

“What class do you have now?”

“Latin Literature.” You said looking at him curiously, sounding a little weirded out with that random question. Since when does he care what class do you have?

“Skip it.”

You smiled at the nonsense he had just said, causing him again to smile too.

“What makes you think I would do that?”

This time, it was a different kind of flirtation. Anyone who passed by you could feel the tension involved, but both of you preferred to believe that this conversation was just an exchange of information.

“Well, you're still here, talking to me, aren't you?”

He said smugly while he observed attentively how you bite your lip and take a deep breath.

“Come on, Y/N. Trust me.”

When Jungkook said your name, he noticed that you felt different. As if something had awakened in you. Your posture had softened, and your eyes were steadily staring into his. You were actually considering it. That had to be a win for Jungkook. Finally.

“Fine. Where are you gonna take me?” You asked in defeat while keeping your eyes locked.

“Where do you wanna go?”

It wasn't the best answer he could come up with.

“Surprise me.” You grinned, extremely aware of your own potential.

Jungkook returned the smile and allowed you to lead the way. On the way to the parking lot, several eyes turned to you. He swore to hear people commenting on the two of you but considered himself a little paranoid. It was indeed a crooked path.

Not that he didn't like being seen with a pretty girl, but you were different, smart, you were sure to use that against him at some point.

You walked ahead of him, making your scent leave trails behind. Jungkook was having a hard time there.

The ride in the car was silent. Jungkook didn't dare bring up any subject, didn't want anything you said to be another reason for him to think about the night. Meanwhile, his eyes flickered between the street and the girl next to him. You seemed to be too entertained with the view of the city to start any kind of conversation.

Jungkook found himself staring at your uncovered thighs for several moments. The dress you wore was short and sleeveless, leaving your entire cleavage and legs bare. The feeling running through his head was pure anticipation.

Taking you to his house would be too obvious on his part, so he thought of a place he could take you without seeming absurd and you both could be finally alone.

“Did you just take me to a library?” You said in disbelief when you saw him parking.

He laughed. He recognized it sounded ridiculous at first, but he knew the potential of that place.

“Looks like someone doesn't know how to wait for surprises.”

You got out of the car, still looking confused.

“I skip college and you bring me to a place with more books? What kind of fun is this?”

“Shall we?” Jungkook said, ignoring your little complaints. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he found you cute with that confused look all over your face.

As the two of you walked inside the library, you were surprised by a female voice that seemed shocked by Jungkook's presence there. The woman walked towards you and hugged him.

“Jungkook? How long have I not seen you?”

The woman was older, had a tired posture, and on her face was a huge smile.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, looking over the woman's shoulder at you. You looked scared.

“You can't just disappear like that.”

Gradually your features became friendly. You looked at the two in front of you with a slight smile on your face. It was unusual for you to see Jungkook being dear and kind, and he knew that was weird for you.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Yoon.” He tried to justify but the woman interrupted him.

“Don't give me excuses, start showing up more. How is your father?”

With that question, Jungkook broke the hug. You noticed how quickly his smile dropped but you weren’t going to comment on that. It’s none of your business.

It was a complicated relationship, and Jungkook definitely didn't want to discuss it in front of you or anyone to be honest.

“He is fine. I haven't seen him in a while too.” He said hoping she would wrap up the matter.

“When you see him, tell him I sent my regards.”

“Of course…” He took a deep breath as he stumbled over his own words. “Could you, eh... give me the key to the back room?”

“Sure.” The woman turned to the key ring, and when she came back, she watched you up and down.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry, how rude of me, I didn’t see you there. You must be his girlfriend?”

Jungkook felt he could die of embarrassment at any moment. Gradually he was already regretting bringing you there. You both exchanged glances and he could see that you were enjoying the situation. You were standing in front of the woman, waiting for Jungkook to answer the question for you.

Oh God, this was so much fun for you, it’s amazing how much a single word can make Jungkook blush. Free entertainment for your eyes.

“S-she’s not. S-she is… She’s a friend of mine.” Jungkook hated himself for stuttering and even more he hated how amused you seemed to be while observing how nervous he suddenly got. “Mrs. Yoon, this is Y/N.”

He watched the two women embrace in front of him. He couldn't hear what you said to each other, but you were smiling as if you were the most sociable person in the world.

“Let’s go?” Jungkook noticed that you were getting comfortable there and hurried you along.

He placed his hand on your back pushing you forward.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Yoon.”

“Likewise. I hope I see you again, sweetie.” The woman said watching Y/N disappear through one of the corridors.

Jungkook and you continued walking in silence, until you let out a low chuckle.

“What are you laughing at? What did she say to you?” Jungkook asked, annoyed.

“Wow, what's with that humor? She just asked me to fix you.” You laughed as you tried to formulate your next sentence. “By the way, where are you taking me?”

Jungkook didn't know which phrase he paid more attention to. The fact that Mrs. Yoon thought he needed a girlfriend to be okay irritated him. Your impatience at that moment also annoyed him.

Appreciating the good relationship between you two and keeping in mind his plans for the future, Jungkook decided to remain silent and continue on his way.

When you finally arrived in front of a small door at the end of the library's central hallway, Jungkook pulled out the key Mrs. Yoon had given him and opened the door. You were at his side, maintaining an eager posture.

He made room for you to enter first and saw you gape for the first time ever. Your eyes stared at every point in the room, as if you were scanning everything.

The environment wasn't much different from the library itself, but there were sculptures and paintings scattered around the corners.

In the middle of the room were two sofas and a rectangular table big enough to hold many books. All the lighting was darker, in yellow tones.

“What is this place? I had never been here before.” You turned to him outraged.

Jungkook laughed weakly. “I would be surprised if you did it. It's my father's collection.”

You continued to walk forward, looking closely at each bookcase. It seemed like it took you a few seconds to process Jungkook’s response when you suddenly stopped and stared at him with surprise written all over your face.

“Wait. Your father has a private library?”

Your disbelief was funny to watch. Jungkook was so used to it all that he didn't understand the appeal. He knew that place would please you and make you easier to talk to. He watched you walk towards a bookshelf in the left corner.

“Do you have a radar?” He asked, referring to the fact that there were Classic books in that corner of the room. He heard your chuckle as you kept observing the books in front of you.

“I still don't believe it, I mean, look at these editions.” You said sounding way more excited than what Jungkook expected.

Jungkook smiled to see you like this. You were like a kid when mom or dad told you that you could have candy before lunch. You were amazed, your eyes sparkled.

In that moment, Jungkook didn't feel like fucking you. It was an almost angelic sight. The level of naivety you were giving off, destroyed all the vision he had about you being a promiscuous girl.

He waited a while for you to leaf through the book in your hand. He didn't want to spoil that for you.

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook remembered his thoughts from yesterday. Maybe this was an opportunity to come clean with you.

“I think I owe you an apology.” The words came bitterly from his mouth.

Definitely not something he was used to. In the last few days Jungkook was doing a lot of new things he never imagined doing. Apologizing to someone was definitely out of character for him.

You closed the book in your hands and looked up to face him.

“Why?”

Jungkook felt the words choke him. The switch in your gaze was insane. You could be very intimidating sometimes.

A silence took over the room before he could finally speak.

“The last few days I... I... I thought very badly of you.”

His breathing was the only audible sound in the room.

“Because I slept with your friend?”

You simply asked without an ounce of embarrassment. Your face was so serene. The way you remained passive in the face of these situations scared Jungkook.

“Well, one minute you were with me at the bar, the next you were with Jimin. Imagine how I felt.” He said in a steady voice.

“One minute you were with your girlfriend, the next you were courting me in that bar.” You shot back in the split of a second with the calmest voice possible. He wished he could sense some type of jealousy in your words, but right now he wasn’t seeing any signs of that. But then again, it was still really hard for him to read you.

He didn’t expect this to backfire. Technically, you were right. He was indeed with Seulgi before approaching to you that night in the pub, but he just wanted you, he hadn’t even invited her. And suddenly he couldn’t even find the right words to respond to your comeback, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

It’s not like you cared…or did you though? You quickly pushed away those thoughts.

You laughed at Jungkook while keeping your gaze on him. “You’re smarter than that, Jungkook.”

For the first time you had called him by his name. Jungkook could feel a shiver down his spine as he heard his name fall from your lips. Your voice was low enough to make him want to forget about the whole argument and kiss you.

He never thought he could win a fight with you, but at that moment he was absolutely sure he had lost.

Your face remained calm; you knew you were dominating him.

“Jimin is my friend.” Jungkook responded, trying to justify what he considered your "mistake".

“So what? I'm single. That’s the beauty of it, I can be with whoever I want. It's not like I'm cheating on anyone.”

You emphasized the last part of your sentence, which made Jungkook realize his disaffection with Seulgi. He didn’t give two fucks if Seulgi slept with anyone else and of course, he himself didn’t care sleeping with others.

He was the same as you, but for some reason he couldn’t pick up, he was feeling insanely annoyed at the fact that you decided to sleep with his friend. And it was even more annoying to see how unfaced you were about it.

“I honestly don't get you. I don't think I ever will.” His voice came out deeper. It was not his intention to argue with you there, but the path the conversation took proved that to be inevitable.

You were a good distance apart, but for some reason the room felt warm.

“It's annoying when someone acts the same way as you, isn't it?” You said narrowing your eyes.

Oh, how well you could read him.

It was so obvious that he was jealous, why? You don’t know the answer to that. And for some twisted reason, that thought alone made you feel so freaking horny.

The infamous Jeon Jungkook was right in front of you, looking hot as fuck at the verge of throwing a tantrum because you decided to sleep with his friend and your panties were getting as wet as possible as the minutes went by. If only he knew.

You didn’t know why your body was reacting this way to his little scene, but you were decided to take care of your horniness right here and right now.

You climbed down a step from the top of the bookcase and walked slowly to the sofa rail in the middle of the room.

Now you were face to face, and Jungkook couldn't hide his nervousness. You watched him swallow hard as his hands squeezed the ledge of the other sofa.

You smiled at him.

“I've seen you a lot, Jungkook. Enough to know how much you love going around teasing girls, hoping they'll run after you.”

You kept walking until you were sitting on the edge of the table between the two couches. “But you should know better by now, I'm not gonna run after you.”

At that sentence, Jungkook let a long, heavy sigh escape his lips. He didn't mean to show how much your words bothered him, but your gaze on him was so strong he couldn't help it.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Jungkook said, taking a step forward.

“I never had to go through this in my life. I never had to go to so much trouble to fuck a girl. You took my peace of mind. You are such a misfortune, Y/N.”

Fuck, he sounded so hot. His voice was barely audible. You both felt all the adrenaline rush through your bodies at that moment.

“Still, you brought me here to fuck me, am I right?”

Your sincerity startled him a second time.

He didn't understand how you could be so rational, so tough to pressure him. The world could be collapsing, and you would still remain passive, with your voice low and your posture straight.

You weren't like him. You were so much better than him.

“Yes.” He replied, without an ounce of shame.

“So why aren't you doing it? Why are you still talking?” You said, holding your gaze on him. “Fuck me, Jungkook.”

That last phrase sounded like music to his ears. He didn’t need to be asked twice.

Jungkook walked towards you, closing the short distance that separated both of you. His eager hands went straight to your face, pulling you in for a kiss. You spread your legs so that Jungkook's body fit perfectly with yours.

For a moment he thought he was imagining it.

As your hands grabbed him by his short hair bringing him as close as possible, one of his hands went to your breast, squeezing it without any courtesy.

The hand that was on your face headed to the back of your neck pulling your hair. With your neck exposed, Jungkook began to alternate between kisses and hickeys, causing you to let out a loud moan.

He was good. Almost too good to be truth. Your body was burning with pure desire. The lust that Jungkook had awakened in you, was something else.

Jungkook took advantage of the short dress you were wearing. In the position you were sitting at the table, the hem of your dress was already at your waist, which allowed him to stroke your thighs freely.

Slowly and deliberately, Jungkook's hand began to caress your inner thighs.

This brat. You knew what he was doing. Or trying to.

“Stop teasing me.” You said through a moan in his ear.

Jungkook smiled while he abandoned the crook of your neck, only to face you. He wanted to see what you looked like when you were losing your mind. When you faced each other, you both felt each other’s hot breaths.

You were a mess, first time seeing you like this and what a sight, your hair was disheveled, your dress was wrinkled, and your face was all flushed.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, returning to attack your mouth.

Something jumped in the pit of your stomach, but you decided to ignore it and focus on fucking him. You were feeling desperate for his touch and you could sense that he was feeling exactly the same.

He could feel your fingernails running under his face and hair, making him shiver.

When Jungkook's hand approached your folds, he could feel your panties heavy with your wetness.

“God.” He didn't mean to express himself aloud, but he couldn't help it.

He placed his hand on the edge of your panties and lifted his gaze to yours. He didn't need permission, but he felt he should have it.

“Please.” You begged as your hands climbed under his shirt. Fuck, he really works out – you think - you catch yourself salivating when your nails run over his six pack.

Jungkook thought for a second about teasing you a little bit more, but even he couldn't stand between his legs.

He pulled away slightly from you to slip his hand under the wet fabric. Looking at you, he could see your reaction when his fingers were finally inside you.

A faint moan escaped your lips. You stared at him with the same intensity as two of his fingers worked inside you. One of his hands gripped your waist, keeping you steady.

With your face resting on his shoulder, Jungkook listened you let out small, high-pitched moans, causing the intensity of his movements to increase. He felt your hardening nipples brush against his chest.

He swore he could cum untouched just by the sounds you were reproducing. He was fascinated with you.

It took no effort for Jungkook to realize that you were almost there. Your body began to shake over his fingers, as if you were hunting for relief.

He pulled your face down and glued your foreheads together. He wanted to see you when you came.

Jungkook increased the speed of his movements, watching you do the same with your waist. You grabbed the strands of his short hair as if your life depended on it.

“I'm gonna… I…I…” Your sentence was brutally slashed by moans that escaped your mouth.

“Fuck, Jungkook.”

Hearing you moan his name as you came motivated him to keep stroking you. It was just like he imagined, even better.

Your face was twisted, but there was a certain concern in your eyes. You wanted him to know that you were going to cum.

“I know.” Jungkook assured you, holding you tighter.

That was enough to make you spill over his fingers. Your legs were shaking, while your breathing was totally uneven.

Jungkook kept his eyes on you, waiting for the moment when you would open yours. Your half-open mouth let out little curses mixed with gasps.

It was Jungkook's personal vision of paradise.

When your eyes slowly opened, and your breathing was steadying, you stared at him hungrily as he licked his fingers deliciously with your scent all over it.

“God. You taste so sweet, Y/N.”

“I want you so fucking bad.” You admitted, taking your hands to his zipper taking him by surprise for what could be the hundredth time already. And God, he was big, so fucking big that you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you.

Unlike Jungkook, you didn't wait for consent. With his erection in your hands, you began to jerk him off as you watched him moan in front of you.

He had thought of this so many times when he was alone. Too many. He had masturbated more times than what he would like to admit at the thought of you. Every time he stroked his dick thinking of you, he imagined that it was your hand instead of his. Imagining how good you would make him feel. And it finally was happening.

He had already given up trying to contain his reactions, his eyes were already closed, and his hands braced around your body, trying to keep steady.

“Oh fuck.” He moaned close to your ear. “I won't last long if you continue this way.”

You pressed the tip of him and saw his body twitch.

“I thought you were better than that.” You provoked him.

“You fucking joking, right?” Jungkook said, gulping. “I've been waiting for this since forever.”

With that, you released him and pushed him away so you could take off your own panties.

Jungkook wasted no time and looked for a condom inside his wallet. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. It was as if that need had been consuming you both.

Duly protected, Jungkook placed himself at your entrance. Teasing you, he played close to your entry, smearing his big cock with all your wetness.

You were losing it. You threw your head back, waiting for him to fill you in. You couldn’t wait any longer.

“I want to see you.” He requested almost in a prayer.

You looked back at him, and this time licked your lips, smiling mischievously.

Jungkook thrusted inside you, slowly, enjoying every inch of you. Your moans and the naughty smile on your face made him increase the intensity.

He was so fucking satisfied.

It was impossible to explain how good you felt. Jungkook pulled your waist, sealing your bodies. You leaned in and the kiss you gave him was now intoxicating him. Every fiber in his body was living to touch and feel your body.

With each thrust, Jungkook felt your walls clench around him, while hearing your smooth moan between his lips.

Jungkook was feeling fucking good. He felt his hands tighten on your body, the softness of your face touching his, your nails digging into his shoulders, into that fucking sleave of tattoos on his arm that drove you crazy every time you saw him.

It was indeed heaven on Earth.

He'd been wanting to fuck you so much and for so long, that he felt his body fail after a few violent thrusts.

“Fuck me, Jungkook.” You repeated like a chant. You knew how much he wanted to hear that.

It felt as if he knew your body from another life. You never felt this horny before and the way he was fucking you was almost animalistic. Just the way you like it.

You brought your hands to his hair, pulling him closer to you. You were practically holding each other as Jungkook fucked you on top of his father's library table.

There was something about that place that gave him the confidence he felt he needed with you. The expectation of someone walking through the door, his father's reaction if he knew, everything in there encouraged him to fuck you harder.

“God. You're so fucking hot.” He whimpered.

A few more thrusts and Jungkook felt a dizziness begin to take over his body. He grabbed you by the hair and kept you looking at him. You opened your mouth and began to moan louder, urging him on.

“Come on, Jungkook. Cum for me.” You begged. “Please.”

Jungkook watched your pleading expression before finishing inside you.

“Fuuuuuuck.”

It was warm, tight, wet.

It was all the possible sensations in the world in one place.

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⏤ author's note❧ okay, i'm not gonna even lie. i admit i had to fan myself as i was writing this chapter 🥵. hope you guys enjoy this new update and as I always say: please give it a lot of love if you like it, reblog, leave your thoughts, send me asks. it will be all very much welcomed 🥰

⏤ tag list❧ @chimsworldsstuff @erica2283 @ahgasegotarmy116

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iovesia · 2 months

Note

heyyyyy i was wondering if you’d do like a continuation headcanon to the in the darkness headcanons basically like after they broke up what john wick would be doing aside from his usual work like i want to see him breaking downnnnn how he is holding up. like is he stalking her, keeping tabs on her, if she’s at a club would he be there too making sure she is protected and like what if she KNOWS he’s where she’s at and she knows that he watches her so she starts to act up in the club idk ANYTHINGGGG i want dramaaaaaaa i want him JELOUSSS AND REGRETFULL AND ON HIS KNEES . thank you ur my fav author ever luv u queen

post breakup, ౨ৎ ex-bf!john wick.

fem reader : continuation of this fic. angst?

john is heartbroken without you. he’s a very sentimental guy, so he can’t bring himself to throw away any of your pictures or mementos he still has. your face haunts the halls of his home, and he has no one to blame but himself.

john’s never one to dwell on his regrets too much— it would make his job a lot harder. but he couldn't stop the aching in his chest, knowing that he now wakes up alone. he won’t hear the sound of your soft singing from the shower, or your laughter in the kitchen when he used to cook sunday breakfast.

he knows its for the better.. right?

your last conversation haunts his every waking thought. the sight of your big teary eyes, heartbreak swimming in those irises, is swimming in his mind. You begged for an explanation, to work things out— for him to just talk to you. talk. be vulnerable.

"you can talk to me, please", your voice echoes.

and he just walked out the door.

john absolutely sucks at the concept of “no-contact.” sure he’s not speaking directly to you, but he’s always keeping an eye on you. He still drives by your favorite places the two of you used to frequent, and just watches you for a while. He manages to last just a few minutes of looking at your solemn face before the guilt hangs too low, and he drives off.

he keeps you safe from a distance, like a guardian angel. That’s all he ever wanted to do— it’s why he broke up with you in the first place. He realises how strange this is, how pissed you’d be if you caught him, but he just needs to know you’re okay.

you haven’t heard from john in almost months since he broke it off. his number stopped working, and it’s like someone wiped him off the grid. he never had many— or any friends or family you could interrogate for his whereabouts. your friends always encouraged you to move on, find a new boy toy, or enjoy the single life.

"he always gave me weird vibes, i called it", one of your friends shrugs.

their comments get met with a nasty glare from you

john wasn’t weird. he wasn’t bad. at least not with you— never with you.

you thought you'd never see him again— until that one fateful november night. after weeks of peer pressure and pleads, you finally agree to let your friends set you up on a date. from what you heard, this guy was the exact opposite of john: aka everything you didn't want. he was blonde, blue eyed, and worked in ... accounting? actuary? something in finance, you honestly couldn't be bothered to remember.

your mind was fogged the entire time you spent getting ready. every flick of your mascara, or lift of tights over your legs reminded you of john. how he’d watch you doll yourself up, drinking in your every gentle movement and sway.

you were too caught up in memories as you left your apartment building, and stupidly got into your uber without checking the licence or driver. You mumble the address to the driver, resting your head back against the window, shutting your eyes.

“don't you know it's rude to get into a stranger's car?" a husky voice jolts you awake.

“john?!”

josie's lil note ࿐ ♡ ˚ . sorry for the lack of angst angst, my brain is really not braining right now 😵‍💫

#divider cred. fairytopea #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #*⠀john wick.#love letters.#john wick angst

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jjkeverlast · 10 months

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okay babe, after working my 2 remaining brain cells I have come up with a request for my boyfiii/hubby joonie (joon's whores™️ pls rise up) 🫣 i'd love a childhood bestfriends to lovers, fluff and smut ofc (if inspo hits, maybe a tiny pinch of angst? if not, it's okay 😌) here are some prompts :

Having so many inside jokes that just the two of them know, that other people often don’t understand their humor. “I’m just scared of losing you.” “Don’t think of it as losing, it’s more like evolving. You’re not losing your best friend, you’re getting something extra.”

and you know i'm extra, so here's some visual inspo (honestly, any excuse show off my domestic boyfriend pics 🫣)

okay okay love you to the moon and back 🌝, i am not sorry for the feral sounds that will come out of me once this thing is posted (i will need to be put down) ❤️❤️❤️

about love | knj (m)

>> pairing bestfriend!namjoon x fem!reader

>> genre/au's childhood best friends to lovers | fluff | smut | crack

>> summary during your trip to the aquarium, namjoon blurts out something that creates an unexpected turn to your friendship.

>> word count 2.8k

>> author's note living for the boyfie pics of joon hehe i hope u enjoy this drabble baby. i included everything u mentioned (minus angst lol) i hope u don't fall more in love with joon after reading this sjdfhcsjd

[keep in mind that i do not have taglists for request, and prompts are marked in bold! thank you.]

Sundays meant one thing for you and Namjoon. It’s the day of the week where you both spend time together. This time, it was Namjoon’s turn to pick and usually he would pick an art exhibition or his favorite museum but, surprisingly enough he picked an aquarium.

You hadn’t been to one since you were five years old. It was on a school trip, you and Namjoon being forced to walk side by side and hold hands like the rest. That’s the only thing you remember — oh, and that silly inside joke that got created that day.

There’s something everyone knows about Namjoon. He’s incredibly smart. Ever since he was little he was always infatuated by random but very important facts — as he called them.

You were determined that jellyfishes were called roundy fishes. Which isn’t really a word but you were certain! It made sense to you, and Namjoon laughed when you shrieked how you were extremely excited to see the roundy fishes, until he discovered it was jellyfishes. Afterwards, he had made it his life mission to, one annoy you with the ridiculous name and two, give you every single fact about them.

Till this day, Namjoon still teased you with that.

The aquarium was the one from when you were small, basically where your friendship started to bloom. The thought of you being here with Namjoon almost 20 years later, made you nervous. A good nervous.

On your 20th birthday, you realized you were in love with Namjoon. It wasn’t even a special moment. He was just suddenly holding a silly tiny cake with a few candles and pushing you to make a wish as you blew on them. In that moment you had looked at him and something sparked in your heart. People would call it butterflies, but you called it a spark.

That spark never left. You weren’t exactly planning on ever telling him, his friendship meaning much more to you than ruining it by a confession.

Therefore, you kept it hidden. But, today he’s making it hard. Especially by showing up with a cute white sweater and his glasses.

Fuck.

“Ready to go see some roundy fishes?” Namjoon says, teasing you by knocking his elbow into yours.

“You’re still on that, I see.” You respond, trying to hide your smile as you both walk inside the aquarium.

The blue lights are all over the place, decorations of every living creature hanging on the walls.

Namjoon doesn’t even hesitate, dragging you by the arm directly towards the jellyfish.

You’re stunned by how beautiful they look. They’re moving in slow motion, creating what seems to be a whole different universe behind glass. It almost reminds you of the clumps of lava, floating in a lava lamp after you turn it on and let it sit for a few hours.

Somehow, you’re just standing in silence, admiring them silently while Namjoon stands next to you. He’s not saying anything either, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s always like this with Namjoon. Just extreme comfort at all times.

You finally decide to turn your head towards Namjoon, noticing how he’s staring at you already. His expression is something you’ve never seen before. You can’t exactly pinpoint what he’s thinking, which is usually your best skill.

“What?” You ask.

“I’m in love with you.” Namjoon blurts out. Your eyes pop open by his words, mouth dropping silently as well.

What did he just say?!

“I—“

Namjoon seems to be getting out of his trance, smacking his lips and returning his gaze on the glass.

“Did you know that jellyfishes are 95% water?” Namjoon changes the subject quickly, spilling out every fact he has on your favorite fish.

“Namjoon.”

“They actually also have really short lifespans.” He continues, ignoring how you called out his name.

“Joonie.”

Namjoon returns his eyes to you. The nickname always does it for him.

“I’m sorry. I was just—“ He tries to explain before you cut him off.

“I’m in love with you, clumsy.”

Namjoon’s expression brings out a huge change. He begins to light up, almost turning the same color as the glowing jellyfishes.

“What.” He breathes out.

“Yeah.” You step closer.

“Holy shit.” Namjoon suddenly says. “You’re serious.” He points out, as if it wasn’t obvious before.

“You’re ridiculous.” You suddenly begin to laugh, your stomach feeling all kinds of weird because what just happened?!

“Wait. Since when have you..” He starts off.

“Since my 20th birthday.” You confess with confidence.

“Ha.” Namjoon chuckles. “I win.”

“Wait what?” You ask in confusion.

“Been in love with you ever since you called jellyfish roundy fishes.”

Fuck. He has got to be kidding.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” You say in disbelief.

“No. Five year old Namjoon was definitely onto something.” He admits, humor laced in his tone.

“Wow.” Your stomach just did a somersault.

“Meaning, he’s been waiting to do something for a really long time.” Namjoon explains, moving closer to you, both of your chests brushing against one another.

“Oh?”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples becoming prominent before he dips his head, his lips about to reach yours until—

“Wait.” You put a hand on his chest, causing his brows to furrow.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just… scared of losing you.” You admit.

There’s not really anything to be afraid of, you know that. But this is Namjoon. Silly, smart, clumsy Namjoon who’s been by your side for as long as you remember. This is scary. What if you mess up? Then you’ll eventually lose Namjoon and—

“Hey.” Namjoon catches you out of your thoughts.

“Don’t think of it as losing, it’s more like evolving. You’re not losing your best friend, you’re getting something extra.” Namjoon says, lightening up the room and washing every horrible thought away.

You nod, agreeing because he’s not exactly wrong. You’re just about to step into something else, but one thing that will never change is Namjoon being your best friend.

When Namjoon notices how you’re more relaxed, he takes the opportunity to finally kiss you.

It’s like everything around you stops the moment your lips meet. You feel like you’ve floated into a completely different place. Namjoon hesitates with giving you more than a peck, so just as he’s about to pull away, you grab his nape letting them touch again.

The kiss is slow. The kiss is the start of something.

Finally, you pull away. Namjoon can’t stop smiling and your whole body has turned warm.

Now, while you’re watching the jellyfish, Namjoon is holding your hand. They seem to fit so perfectly and your mind hasn’t even processed everything that just happened. But one thing you know for sure, is that you’ve never been happier.

The rest of the day, you walk around, Namjoon telling you everything he knows about each species. But it’s different this time, because each time he gets excited you get the urge to kiss him again and do so.

Namjoon doesn’t stop glowing the whole time you’re there, neither do you.

After a few hours, you both decide to head home. Namjoon sits in the passenger seat while you hum out the song playing on the radio.

When you finally arrive in front of his place, you both pause and look at each other again.

“Do you… want to come in?” Namjoon offers, scratching his neck while asking. A gesture he does when he’s nervous.

“I’d love to.” You seem more calm than he does.

“Oh, okay!” Namjoon gets excited, hurrying himself out of the car while you begin to laugh. You’re so in love with him it has turned ridiculous.

You’ve been in Namjoon’s apartment plenty of times. You could find everything with your eyes closed if you tried. This time, it’s a bit different. The atmosphere is clouded with love, while Namjoon scrambles to make you both some tea.

He’s excited, yes, but nervous too. He’s not the only one, you’re just better at controlling it.

When the tea has been made, you both sit down on his couch. He’s turned a few lamps on, the exposure of light dimmed which creates an oddly romantic vibe. Everything is unplanned. You’re just both living in the moment, talking and chatting about anything that comes to mind, while you play with his hair.

Something starts to shift when Namjoon stops talking about space, and decides to kiss you instead. The kiss is different from the first one. This time you’re both aiming for the same goal. Namjoon still seems hesitant, careful with moving his body closer to yours — which causes you to lead.

You pull Namjoon down on top of you, holding onto his waist as you continue to glide your lips above his. He tastes of peppermint tea, a taste you don’t really seem to mind.

It’s going somewhere you’re both aware of. Normally you would’ve been scared in such a situation, thinking you’re moving too fast but you’ve both been waiting so long for this moment that it doesn’t exactly feel like that.

Namjoon’s lips move from yours down to your neck, biting you gently before replacing it with his wet tongue. He’s really good at this. Fuck.

For the first time you’re already slightly panting by a minor action. It’s more the thought of it being Namjoon doing this, that he’s the one you’re currently making out with on his couch and not some random person from tinder or someone you met at the club. No. This is your best friend. Your other half. The one who’s apparently been in love with you ever since the first day you got to know him.

“I’m loving the extra things I’m getting.” You joke, running your fingers through his long strands while Namjoon giggles against your skin.

“Yeah, good you’re not missing out anymore.” What a cocky bastard.

“Mhm.” You hum, enjoying Namjoon hovering above you a tad bit too much.

“Wait. Are we doing this?” Namjoon pauses, removing his face from your neck. He’s looking at you, raising his eyebrow in question.

You pull him by the belt. “Yeah. We’re doing this.” You confirm, unbuckling his belt while Namjoon chuckles at your lack of patience.

But he’s no better himself, because before you know it he’s working his hands on your zipper, failing miserably but somehow making it work and opening them.

In sync, you both touch each other, groaning by the feeling. Namjoon feels big under your palm and he notices how you’re already wet from just a little hot make out sesh on his couch.

“Shit—“ Namjoon curses, sliding his fingers up and down above the fabric while you’re cupping him.

“Yeah.”

The sensation grows with every touch, a desperation coming to the surface. You’re certain Namjoon is going to fuck you on this couch, but he has other plans.

“Bedroom. Now.” He says in between pants. Too overwhelmed to form an actual sentence because holy shit you’re touching him, at this very moment. This isn’t a silly wet dream, no. This is real life and it’s about to happen.

It looks silly how you both get up so fast, running towards Namjoon’s bedroom as if there’s hidden gold in there. Namjoon closes the door even though he lives alone and you’re already laying down on his bed, waiting for him to join you.

The bed slightly dips when he joins you, grabbing your waist so you’re able to feel every inch of him as he kisses you softly. Your hands shamelessly feel his chest and arms, a weakness of yours when it comes to Namjoon and his body.

You remember the first time you saw him after a while, his shoulders broader and more toned. You tried not to show him how your eyes raked all over his body, checking him out with zero shame. Thankfully, Namjoon was too excited to see you to notice and you’re grateful for that.

But now, you can touch him there. Feel the edges of his muscles without having to wonder what they feel like. Fuck. You were right. They feel like a dream.

Namjoon moans against your lips when your hand moves upwards beneath his shirt, his soft skin burning against yours. You knew he had abs, he’s mentioned once or twice he was doing an abs workout when you’ve called him during his workout hours but— he’s truly ripped. The prominent edges of his abs tense under your touch and your mind is immediately sent into a whirlwind.

You grab onto his waist, moving him to hover above you once more. Although this time, Namjoon presses down on you, giving you a glimpse of how hard he is. He’s barely grazed his covered cock on you, and you’re whining beneath him, pulling him closer to kiss him more roughly.

The sounds Namjoon makes are unreal. He’s groaning softly, but moaning with a raspy tone. It’s almost a bit embarrassing how wet you’ve become by simply dry humping a bit and being blessed by hearing Namjoon enjoying himself above you.

You both go back to groping and touching one another, this time beneath the fabric that stands in the way. Namjoon’s cock feels heavy in your hand, the skin soft and the tip wet. You gain the courage to squeeze his cock gently, causing Namjoon to gasp while he’s dragging out his fingers on your slit.

You tense when Namjoon’s thumb begins to circle on your clit. Namjoon grows a smile at your reaction, continuing as he drags two of his fingers inside of you with ease. He curls them when they’re fully inside, petting your g-spot and making you moan. You return the favor, stroking Namjoon’s cock and squeezing by the tip, circling your thumb over it.

Now the question is, who’s going to give in first?

Namjoon pulls himself upwards, his fingers still inside you, taking his free hand to remove his glasses and place them on the night table. With that, he also reaches for a condom in the drawer.

As he moves downwards, he reconnects his lips with yours. The kiss is wet, messy and hot. It only makes you more excited to finally have sex with Namjoon.

You’re both moaning, moving your bodies in sync, in search of friction but nothing will beat Namjoon being inside of you. The lack of patience starts to show for you when you pull his pants and boxers till mid thigh. His cock springs free, moving closer to your core. Namjoon pulls out his fingers, grabbing onto his cock and makes eye contact with you.

You nod to his silent question, resulting in Namjoon to pull your pants and underwear completely off. You expect for Namjoon to get on with it, but instead he moves closer, grinding down on your naked core. His cock slips in between your lips, letting you feel him fully.

“Shit—” You gasp, overwhelmed by how good it feels.

“Yeah, baby.” Namjoon says in agreement, mouth slack as he continues to move. If he continues, you’re certain you can come like this.

“Joonie, please.” You bite your lip, preventing a moan from escaping your lips. “Need you.” You mumble against his skin.

You have never in your life seen Namjoon hurry as much as he does right now. He almost falls down on you, too excited to put on a condom. Luckily, he manages quickly, the condom sliding down with ease.

With that, Namjoon circles his tip by your entrance, teasing you a bit. It causes you to move your hips, trying to aim for his cock but you fail. Namjoon bites back a smile, and carefully he starts to thrust, sliding with ease. The stretch feels incredible.

After a few shallow thrusts, Namjoon manages to settle. He takes a second to enjoy how you feel wrapped around him before beginning to move.

Holy fucking shit. Namjoon thrusts like a God. You’re already on edge, barely having him inside of you but you feel yourself coming close to an orgasm.

Namjoon picks up a fast pace, grabbing both your hands and intertwining your fingers, settling them above your head. He gasps against your lips, biting down on them whenever you clench around him.

“You feel like a fucking dream.” Namjoon pants, smiling down on you. Your skin grows hot by his compliment, nearing an end.

With a few more thrusts from Namjoon, your back arches, a highly pitched moan slipping as you come undone all over him. Not long after, Namjoon’s cock twitches inside of you, spilling into the condom with a groan.

You both lay in each other’s arms, skin sweaty and warm. Namjoon pulls out with ease, tossing the condom in a bin before moving back towards you. He lays in your arms and your hands move upwards to his hair. He hums in satisfaction, loving how your fingers feel scraping his scalp.

“What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

You pause, surprised he’s asking such a thing.

“Why are you asking this when you can’t even boil an egg?” Namjoon gasps in offense, while you start to laugh over how ridiculous he is.

“It was worth a try.” He says, giving a small peck to your neck.

Kim Namjoon will be the death of you.

#namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x female reader #namjoon x you #namjoon fanfic #namjoon drabble #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon bts #bts rm #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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