#because he never loses and he won’t even pretend to lose
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pray, but heaven won’t let you back
Paring: vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader
Summary: Since the night Steve lost control, he’s been pushing away, afraid to hurt you again. You’ll do anything to convince him you still trust him, even giving into the bloodlust he’s tried to avoid. || fic inspired by this post.
WC: 3k
CW/Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, language, vampire nonsense/lore, blood play & blood sucking/feeding (nothing gory but still be cautious if you’re squeamish), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, lots of fluff and aftercare at the end
this is a modern vampire AU! can (kinda) be read as a standalone, but it’s a follow up to love’s the death of peace of mind and the bitter and the sweet.
A/N: i will never get sick of vampire!steve, so here’s another lil fic based off this post i saw earlier lmao. song title & lyrics are from worship - ari abdul. enjoy babes <3
pretty when you say my name like that / feel your lips trace down my neck / darlin', don't say nothin', just breathe
pretty when you're looking up like that / pray but Heaven won't let you back / good on your knees
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It took one close call to push both you and Steve to question if you were right for one another. One slip up, where his lust for your blood called to him louder than usual; louder than your moans he earned through a skilled tongue you never grew tired of.
It took one close call for Steve to become rigid, self discipline at its height in your relationship.
It took one close call to set your desire in stone; you wanted Steve to turn you, wanted to join him in an eternity of a life you once believed wasn’t real.
Blood play wasn’t foreign before that night, but it was always controlled, always with moderation and care. Now that Steve lost control, even only for a minute, he didn’t trust himself with you. He began growing distant, physically and emotionally, and it was burrowing under your skin, deeper and deeper as time carried on.
Steve still loved you, and though you could tell because of his avoidant behavior, it hurt. It was for your sake, your safety, and he made that clear; yet you were becoming lonely and agitated without his touch.
Even beyond lust, you just wanted him to hold you, and you wanted to hold him. You missed the way he’d play pretend, acting irritated when you’d kiss him one too many times on the cheek in a day. You longed for the way either of you would roll over in your sleep, searching for the other subconsciously. You felt like a stranger to him, a ghost in the walls of the home you shared with him.
Maybe you were foolish to believe this love could last; this all started with a Halloween party hookup, after all. Just another pathetic mortal that fell prey to a vampire’s charm.
You’re getting ready to go out with some friends when something breaks Steve, just enough for him to see he’s losing you, letting you slip through his fingers that once held you tightly with possession and protection.
Sitting at the vanity, the warmth of the lights lining mirror feels good on your skin. It’s not that you avoid the daylight for Steve’s sake; the lore of vampires burning up in the sunlight was nothing more than a myth. The sun does, however, irritate the fuck out of most vampires, still too bright, but bothersome in a sensory overload sort of way more than threatening. But since the night Steve lost control, and you began losing him, you rarely left bed these days.
You deserved to feel the warmth, any warmth, after receiving a cold shoulder from Steve for awhile now. You’ve lost track of the days he began to back away, but it’s far too long despite the specifics.
While you’re fixing your makeup, wrapped in a long, silky, dusty rose robe, Steve walks in; he’s surprised to find you not only up and out of bed, but all dolled up, too.
“H- hey, love.” He goes to lean against the doorframe, but miscalculates how close he is to the frame, falling into it instead. You stifle a laugh, watching his figure fumble in your peripheral vision as you dust blush along your cheeks.
“Hi.”
He holds his breath while crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for a follow up with an expectant smile; it falls flat when you continue to ignore him.
“So… going somewhere?”
You still won’t look at him, another response multitasked as you work on your eye makeup. “Uh-huh.”
Steve’s eyes catch on the deep red, silky dress you have waiting for a night out, hung up on the door by its hanger. “Th- you’re going out in that?” He remembers gifting it to you for the holidays, joking he could never let you out of his sight if you wore it in public; he trusted you, but surely not any men around you.
Now, you’re planning on wearing it for the first time while out with your friends, and not him. Jealousy bubbles up within him.
“Your observational skills are great, Steve.” Your response is so harsh; even you feel bad for giving the frost right back to him.
“Thought you’d save it for one of our date nights,” He grumbles, like a child. You finally glance over at him, eyes narrowing as they meet his.
“What, do I need your permission to wear it?”
“No, don’t twist my words.”
“Steve, this is the most you’ve talked to me in weeks.” You leave the vanity to change into your dress. With a quick tug of the tie of your robe, it slinks to the floor. Your back is to him, missing the way his jaw slacks to the floor at the sight of your lingerie set: a red, lacy set that hugs your curves deliciously; another gift from him, one without reason. “What, are you jealous? I’m done moping around and waiting for your attention.”
Steve loved showering you in gifts, especially in his favorite color— how typical of a vampire to love the color red; though you tried insisting you needed nothing more but him, he couldn’t help himself from spoiling you.
A groan slips out of him as two things push to the front of his mind:
He’s painfully aroused, tenting in his tight pants, in need of relief.
That, and the bloodlust he’s been fighting since that close call is back, full force.
One minute, you’re reaching for the dress to change into, the next, he’s shoving you against the nearest wall. You gasp as he pins your arms above your head with one large hand easily holding both of your wrists.
“Steve—“
“Might wanna text your friends, let ‘em know you’re running late.” He rolls his hips into yours roughly, earning the first pleasing sound from you tonight; you whimper and pout as his other hand grabs you by the chin, grip hard. “Oh, princess, am I throwing your night off?”
You can’t bring yourself to answer while his hand leaves your face, wasting no time to grope your chest with a cruel touch. You arch into his grip and mewl, eyes fluttering shut as he kicks your legs apart before slotting a leg against your core. Instinctively, you grind onto his thigh, heat already sticky through the lacy fabric you wear.
“Might not make it there at all, huh?” He’s mocking you, taunting you, and you’re infuriated. You’re pissed he’s pulling this after weeks of being distant, and you’re really pissed at yourself for instantly melting under his touch.
Pushing through the haze of desire, you glare at him. “Steve, enough.”
“Oh, c’mon, since when are you not into—“
“I said enough.”
You’re trying to steady your breaths as you hold a cold stare with him; his features falter, hands releasing you before stepping back.
“I’m sorry,” Any and all confidence is thrown out the window as he shrinks under your vexed gaze. “I- I— I’ve just— fuck. I fucked up, alright?”
You’re nowhere near as strong as him, yet when you push him back with your hand on his chest, he stumbles back. You push him again, and again, and once more, until the backs of his legs hit the bed, throwing his balance off. He falls back onto the mattress, panting lightly as his stare is fixated on you above him.
“You can’t do this shit, Steve. You can’t touch me when you want then leave me alone like nothing matters. I told you I’m not afraid of you, I trust you.”
“Yeah, and I cracked any trust by losing control—“
“Steve, this is who you are!” You reach out, cradling his head in your hands on either side of his face. He can’t resist leaning into your touch, guilt playing up on his features. “I’ve accepted that from the start. I’ve accepted the risk since the first night together. What I didn’t accept or agree to was being treated like a total stranger by the one I love most.”
“I know. I know. I just wanted to keep you safe. All I want is for you to be safe, and happy. All I want is for you to feel loved, and I hurt you instead. I’m sorry.” He sounds so pained, nuzzling into your palm while he grabs your arm, pushing your hand against his face harder.
Aside from the last few weeks, there have never been moments where you felt shoved away, or less than Steve. And now, it’s only happening because he thought it would protect you. Just the honest admission alone shows you he meant well, even if he hurt you. It wasn’t intentional, just like the night he lost control. He knows he hurt you, but it was never intentional.
You can tell Steve is fighting the instinctual hunger for your blood; his eyes are dark with desire, but teetering on the edge of falling into that deep red shade that could only signal trouble. His grip on your arm shakes as he restrains himself from overpowering you again.
You try to keep him with you, asking softly, “Make it up to me?”
“H- how? I’ll do anything, anything you want, love.” His breaths run shallow as you straddle his lap, hands snaking around to the back of his head; you gently push his face towards your neck, but he leans back. “I— okay, anything but— honey, I can’t.”
“You want to.”
“Doesn’t m- mean I should.” Steve is so conflicted; he wants this, he needs you. You want him, you need him, too. But it’s a risk with the odds against him.
“I’m giving you the green light, Steve.” You kiss his forehead, then his cheek, leading to his lips. Before you kiss them, you murmur, “I trust you.”
He closes the gap with a frantic kiss, one arm slinking around your hips to your back, the other exploring your body clumsily. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, fangs scraping along the skin. You yelp, and Steve stops.
“Love, we— this is—“ His gaze sinks deeper into that shade of red you once knew as a signal for danger, but you trust him. You know him. You know he’d never take it too far, not to a level where you couldn’t handle it. “You’re not— I’m not ready to turn you yet—“
“I didn’t expect that. I wouldn’t complain, but I promise that’s not what I’m asking for right now.” You roll your hips onto his bulge, strained under the tight fabric of his pants still. “I’m just asking you to trust me. Trust me, to trust you.”
Steve searches your gaze for any doubt, any signs of faltering or second guessing; there’s only certainty and adoration. You nod softly, encouraging him once more.
In a flash, you’re thrown to the pillows at the top of the bed, landing on them with a surprised laugh. Steve crawls above you, with a warm smile of his own, despite the red in his gaze.
“You’ll stop me if—“
“Yes, yeah, just—“
He cuts you off with a rough kiss, fangs poking at your lips before he kisses along your jawline, trailing to your neck. When he reaches the crook of your neck, he sucks softly, earning airy moans from you while you grab him by his shirt. He laughs breathily into your skin, tickling you.
“Starting to think you like this more than I do,” He teases after pulling off your neck, spit with a hint of red dripping from the corner of his mouth. You nod with a dazed giggle, a sound he’s missed so, so dearly since pushing away. “I’m so sorry, love.” He ducks into your neck again, murmuring in between kisses, “You’re my everything.”
Stealing the spotlight from your answer, he tests the waters by sinking his fangs into your neck, ever so slightly. You gasp, arching up into him.
“Sensitive little thing,” He teases, kitten licking at the few drops of blood on your skin. He delves back in, sinking his fangs a little deeper. A sharp, pained gasp leaves your lips, and it’s almost enough to make him stop, but it dissolves into a satisfied moan. “What’d you think was gonna happen tonight? You’d find someone else?”
Here comes the possessive attitude you always crave.
“N- no, don’t want anyone else but you.”
He’s lapping at the blood now, sucking intermittently as it flows out. He’s in such a heady daze, beginning to whimper into your skin.
“S’what I thought, princess.” He sucks stronger this time, groaning into you as he feeds. “Fuck, y’taste so goddamn good, love.”
You’re reaching the dizzy, intoxicating thrill achieved only when Steve takes you like this. The only sensation that has ever come close is when he chokes you, plays with your air and blood flows, but it’s never the same as when he feeds off your blood.
Giggly and growing lightheaded, the pain has become full pleasure to you at this point. “You ever cum from sucking blood?” The question is silly, to you, but not to Steve. He lets out a guttural moan, mouth still on your skin. The teamwork of his fangs in your neck, his lips sucking blood out, and his tongue soothing over the wounds make you whine and writhe underneath him.
“Every time y’let me drink yours— f- fuck—“
You didn’t even notice his pants were finally down, halfway, at least; he’s fisting his cock, precum spilling onto you from his rosy, swollen tip while he continues to work at your neck. The noises he makes are pornographic at this point. You reach around to hold him, hand to the back of his head, cradling him close.
“Touch yourself, love.”
Obeying, your other hand slides down between the two of you, fingers finally meeting your clit. You lazily rub in circles, eyes fluttering shut with a blissed out smile. “Steve…”
“This turns you on just as much as it does for me, huh?” You always gonna be fucked out every time I drink from you?”
You nod, head in the clouds; the two of your hands continue to bump against one another every so often, setting off little grunts and whimpers. “Uh-huh…”
“Imagine h- how wrecked you’ll be when I…” His hips stutter as he continues jerking off. “… when I turn you. Might like sucking blood more than y’like sucking my cock.”
You gasp at his words, nodding wildly as he pulls back, looking down at you with devotion and desire.
“You doin’ okay, love?” Steve asks, shuddering, close to his high. “Can I- I- m’so close…”
You hum with a dopey smile, “Here,” is all you can manage to say as you pull your bra down, exposing your chest. Steve only lasts a second longer before he finally reaches his high, spilling onto your tits as he moans lowly, echoing against the walls. The sight of him coming undone above you, the feeling of his spend against your skin, the intoxication of losing blood, it’s all more than enough to follow him with your own climax.
Moaning for only a moment, Steve pushes forward, crashing his lips into yours, melding together with the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue. When he pulls back, you’re left panting sleepily, fucked out despite only getting off from your own touch and his fangs in your neck.
“Love, you know it’ll be hard to turn you knowing I’d have to give this up, right?” You reach up to him, gently touching his face. He takes your hand in his, kissing the back of your knuckles softly.
“S’okay, we can wait a lil’ longer.” You watch the shade of red in his eyes settle into the calm, muted red they usually are. Before you can praise him for being successful in holding himself under control, he kisses you quickly.
“Stay here, gonna get some stuff to clean up,” He does exactly that, returning with towels to clean off with and a first aid kit. He hands over a water bottle to you, careful not to make you spill it as he runs his tongue softly along the wounds, healing them with ease as he’s done plenty of times before. The first aid kit is kind of useless by now, but he still properly cleans around the newly healed wounds.
When Steve finishes, he gently lifts your head up toward his, searching for any signs of distress. “How’re you feeling?”
“Sleepy.”
He nods, “No tingling or weird feelings like last time, right?”
“Right,” You smile, curling up next to him with a content sigh. “Can we take a bubble bath?”
“You’re half asleep,” Shaking his head, he chuckles, “I don’t want you to drown.”
“Says the guy who just stabbed my neck with his teeth.”
“Yeah, you’re fine. The sass is back.” Then he remembers, you had plans. “Hey, did you get to tell your friends you weren’t coming? Sorry for stealing your night, love.”
“I didn’t have plans, just was hoping that’d get your attention finally,” You snuggle even closer, resting your head on his chest. Meanwhile, he scoffs out a laugh as he finds out you tricked him. He couldn’t even be mad, though, because it worked. Breaking his thoughts, you mutter, “You did it, y’know.”
Steve’s brows furrow, “What’d I do?” He’s lost, assuming you’re babbling sleepily.
“Your eyes changed back. You didn’t lose control.” You’re falling into slumber fast. “I meant it when I said I trust you, Steve.”
He kisses the top of your head, arms holding you close. “I trust you, love. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
You’re down for the count, only able to murmur back, “Love you, Steve.” He watches as your breaths fall low and steady, finding safety and comfort while the two of you are back where you belong— in each other’s arms.
Steve’s nowhere near ready to turn you, but when the time comes, he’s certain it’s part of both of your futures, intertwined into one. He knows now the two of you are meant to spend eternity together.
Until then, he’ll cherish this complicated love between human and vampire; he’ll cherish you as you are now, before that becomes a mere memory once he brings you over to his side of life.
Eyes growing heavy, Steve whispers to you, now fast asleep, “I love you, too. ‘Til the end of time.”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington smut#vampire!steve harrington#my fics#pray but heaven won’t let you back
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Does Phoenix still go on a sabbatical after being defeated in court and does he also announce it using an extremely dramatic note?
Oh, most definitely. He is the MOST dramatic, so of course he does hehe
#doctorsiren#ace attorney#ace attorney au#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#ace attorney fanart#defenseworth au#prosecutor wright au#art#digital art#my art#fanart#procreate#I don’t think I ever mentioned it but the back of Phoenix’s cape is literally an Ace of Spades#he is forever a theatre kid (references Les Mis)#also funny subtle reference to my Les Mis AA animatic I did back in December#he doesn’t say ‘chooses death’#and he doesn’t go with a term that would mean him losing or giving in with poker#because he never loses and he won’t even pretend to lose#so he goes to his theatrical roots#and even though he doesn’t say ‘chooses death’#miles still assumes that’s what he meant 😭💀#but miles actually communicates with Maya about the note (while Phoenix didn’t when it was Edgeworth’s note)#because Miles has learned to be open with his emotions to the people he works with (but not to Phoenix LMAOO haha)
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Guard Dog vol. II
jason todd x fem!reader
aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II
3 in 1 blurbs
warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader
“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”
You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.
You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”
He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”
“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”
You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”
“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”
You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”
He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”
“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.
“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.
You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.
You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.
He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.
You laugh lightly, “What?”
He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”
You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.
“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”
He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”
“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.
He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”
You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”
He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”
“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.
“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.
No, it’s not fair at all.
It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.
You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—
The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.
You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.
“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”
He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.
He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.
He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.
“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.
You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”
He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”
You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”
He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.
He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.
Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.
He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.
As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.
You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.
Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.
He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.
He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.
He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”
You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.
Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.
The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.
And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.
At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.
You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.
Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.
He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.
He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are pleading now, already worried.
You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.
“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”
His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”
You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”
His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”
“Jason—”
“Who did it?”
“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”
The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.
“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.
“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.
He stares at you. “In the hallway?”
You blink. “…Yeah?”
He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.
You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.
“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.
He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.
“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.
He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.
The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.
Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.
Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.
You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.
You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.
Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”
No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.
“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.
He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”
You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.
“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.
“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.
You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.
“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”
“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.
This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.
He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.
“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.
You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”
“Is that a yes?”
You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”
He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.
You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”
Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.
“Hey, bud.”
He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.
Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”
He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”
He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”
He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”
Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.
Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steals his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”
The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”
Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”
“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?
“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” Hood clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”
Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.
“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.
Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”
The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.
Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”
Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.
#these are all wildly different lengths my b#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd the doberman#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#jason todd/you#jason todd/reader#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood fanfic#red hood fanfiction
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sloppy seconds | s. getou + s. gojo
✮ tags ; afab +fem!reader, weird relationship dynamics, polyamory if you squint, mild obsession, overstimulation + unprotected sex, wet and messy, dubcon (gojo references passing out on readers end but its all consensual) 18+
✮ wc ; 2.3k
✮ a/n ; nonsensensically horny about this idk
Suguru doesn’t mind sharing. Not with Satoru.
Never with Satoru.
It’s easy to mistake that willingness for benevolence, and for a lesser sorcerer - fear. But it’s neither, nothing so complex. Nothing worth philosophizing over, something Suguru loves to do. Suguru just doesn’t mind sharing with Satoru for anything.
If he has to explain himself - it’s like this. Satoru is an extension of Suguru himself. A part of him, ingrained in him, grown into him. Not like ivy vines, but a flower pushing through concrete, a stubborn spectacle of Suguru’s gray matter. Satoru is the bluebell that refuses to be plucked, to die, to be anything but involved.
That and Satoru is not good at not coveting all things Suguru owns. He’s even worse at try to pretend he doesn’t want them. It's pitiful and frequent enough to make Suguru wince every time. A boy born into God doesn’t know how to play fair, even when his best efforts are made to do so.
When Satoru longs for something, his whole body has to whine for it. His eyes will flutter and he’ll slow himself down like a sloth, laugh less. When he really, really tries - he almost becomes a shell of himself. A shell of a shell, a masquerading puppet.
He’s not equipped for it. Suguru finds the whole display pathetic.
Well, Suguru likes appeasing him, too. That’s part of it. He’s not so dishonest that he can’t recognize that he enjoys seeing the way Satoru breaks the things Suguru gives him. There’s a novelty in that display, like a child crying for a toy and playing too rough. Suguru fixes them, sees if Satoru learns from his mistakes and he never does. Satoru likes things that are shiny, things he can’t have. Discards them and loses interest when it’s already his.
Suguru never gives Satoru something unless he’s certain he doesn’t mind it being broken, or being used, or being a little messy. If there is any apprehension, Suguru won’t do it. Won’t let Satoru cry his way into it either.
He also likes the chase. Satoru does. Like an overgrown dog. Likes begging and pleading, making a big show. He can be manipulative too, if it’s something that has to be taken, but he’ll heel if Suguru puts his foot down.
Most of all, Suguru enjoys cleaning up after Satoru’s messes. It makes him feel important. There’s always an undercurrent of amusement and warmth when Suguru picks up after Satoru. The strongest is uncharacteristically sloppy, and doesn’t know how to indulge in things without getting sick of them instantly.
Their relationship is like this - Suguru is the hand that feeds, and Satoru is the thing that bites. Suguru sighs and clicks his teeth, but the scars in his fingers and all the bite marks prove that he doesn’t really care about Satoru learning his lesson. He just likes to feed, likes to watch Satoru eat off his hand for a while before Satoru gives up on being good and uses his mouth to devour. Suguru watches this happen idly, lets the whole thing roll off of his sleeve and laughs. Because that’s just Satoru, after all.
For all reasons above and then some, Satoru's interest in you doesn't shock him at all.
Suguru loves you. Maybe in some twisted way, but it’s love. You’re rather obstinate. He suspects he might have a type, but he likes you so much for it. When Suguru pushes your buttons - you’re not the kind to sit back and take it. And for how much Suguru gets on your nerves, Satoru gets on yours worse. Between them, only Suguru only saw the best in you. Satoru didn't understand that part of you is what makes you so special. Only you could refuse him so often and keep Suguru wrapped around your fingers, unable to ignore you or keep his hands off of you.
(He’s a good enough man to you just to make you melt since he knows if you really got mad you'd leave. He knows how to smile and sorry until you lay in his arms and hit him soft because you claim to still be mad.)
The decision to share you is one Suguru makes lightly. It’s featherlight and simple. Satoru will indefinitely break you in some way. Will rip at you like the ill-mannered man he is. Suguru will bask in it like he always does. Satoru is only so keen on having you because Suguru so utterly adores you. Of course he knows that. But curiosity always wins Suguru over. He couldn't help but want to know what exactly Satoru will do with you once he had you.
It surprises him after, but Satoru doesn’t lose interest in you as fast as Suguru expects. Or at all. Maybe he should’ve predicted that, since he knows best you’re not so easy to break.
But Satoru tries. God, does he try to just do that.
Suguru glances back towards Satoru. He has a lot more energy than him. Enough to fuck you utterly dumbstruck
He watches on as he does it now, with the same mild fondness. Something stirs seeing you like that of course, but it’s not so distracting he can’t do other things.
Satoru has you in his bed with your legs pinned up against your ears. Impatience makes an interesting image of Satoru. His sweatpants are pulled over the meat of his thigh, covered in cum and sweat since he refuses to take them off. His shirt is still on in much the same condition, though the black fabric masks some of it. Still it sticks unmistakably to his abdomen, clings tight to the lines of his abs.
Satoru himself seems keen on making himself sick on you. His hands are folded underneath your knees with his face against yours - warm, wet and sloppy kisses making the entire room sound sticky. The air of his apartment is so thick with lust, Suguru’s sure he could slash through it with a knife and still not make it to fresh air.
Suguru is a little used to it. So he’s horny, but he’s not there yet. He approaches the bed with a smooth and familiar demeanor, the mattress dipping underneath his weight as he sits next to you. Your eyes are tear stained and wet as you blink, sensing his presence even amidst your delirium.
You try to reach your hand out for him but Satoru is quick to shut it down. Suguru tsks.
“Don’t get greedy,” Suguru reprimands, and Satoru only shoots him a frown. His focus in fucking you open doesn’t cease for even a minute. “Missed me did you?”
Your mouth forms around his name. It tries, but the words are muffled by Satoru’s own lips again. Suguru laughs a little louder this time, but doesn’t stop Satoru in any way. When he pulls away from you, your eyes are glazed over. Mouth open, tongue sticking out and covered in spit. Bitten to hell and pink with someone else's saliva. Suguru reaches towards your face and wipes your mouth, his back facing Satoru. You whine, letting your face curl against his hand. Desperate, so desperate for him despite being fucked out of your mind.
“So greedy,” Suguru teases, because you are - because he’s made you that way so perfectly in his image. “Satoru isn’t doing a good job?”
Satoru grumbles with possession he’s hardly earned, but again - this is of no concern to him. He watches Satoru ratchet his hips a little more, watches him fuck you on his cock even deeper than before. Your eyes roll back and your jaw goes slack, and from this angle - Suguru can see the way all the loads his best friend has pumped in you have gathered at the base of his cock. A thick, creamy ring of white making your pussy deliciously sloppy. Your cum drips down your sex, paints your ass white as he keeps fucking him into you with all that stamina.
That’s what gets him, he finds. All that energy, all that mess. Suguru feels a shiver roll through him as Satoru fucks his loads into you deeper. He’s longer where Suguru is thicker so Suguru imagines how far that really goes. How hot it must be inside of you, fucked so ruthlessly you’ve gone completely stupid in bliss. Satoru can fuck like an animal just like he eats like one, and god don’t you look so pretty being ripped apart in front of him.
Satoru bottoms out and stays there this last thrust, so hard the bed shakes. His thighs stick to yours as he grinds his hips up, pulsing against your gspot - reaching right into your womb. You moan brokenly, whimper as you get fucked. Suguru knows it now - that it means Satoru is about to cum in your greedy little cunt for umpenteenth time unconcerned with the consequences.
Satoru shivers, riding out his high as he pumps whatever he has left into you before he pulls away. Thick strings of arousal keep you two together before Satoru inevitably manages to get off of you. He sits on the back of his legs, admiring his work - his hands going to smack your puffy cunt - pleased and finally relieved. You yelp, completely worn out.
“You didn’t pass out this time,” He says, pleased and completely different than he was before “Good girl.”
You let out a pained whine, and Suguru coos.
Satoru gets off the bed and looks for a water bottle to drink, peeling his shirt off when he finds it and rehydrating himself. He has the courtesy to come back and let you have some when he returns. You swallow it as best you can when you’re laying down and drinking it from his lips.
“You gonna have your way with her now, Suguru? How cruel.” Satoru says.
Suguru ignores him. “Go wash up and order dinner.”
Satoru hums noncommittally and disappears, leaving you alone together. When Suguru replaces Satoru’s weight in the bed - your reaction is immediate. You close your legs, but Suguru forces them back apart as he gets a good look at your sore, abused cunt.
Satoru can be so brutal when he wants to, but thats what he likes most to see. You’re in a sorry state. He uses nimble fingers to open you up - looking with a wicked grin as your cunt opens up for him. Nearly gapes from how stretched it is, how much Satoru has fucked you. You’re still soft and sticky inside, your clit hard and swollen. Full to the brim with Satorus seed, heady with his scent.
He tsks at Satoru’s unprofessionalism, wonders if he’s been as dexterous as he should’ve been.
The questions answered when Suguru touches your pussy and you pull away - skittish and helpless as he pinches the hard bundle of nerves. He whistles at how easily you’re stimulated, and then groans at the way Satoru’s cum starts to drip out of your hole. He uses his pointer finger to collect it back up - pushing it back where he wants it. You cry out - for Suguru mostly.
Suguru hums delicately as he picks up after Satoru’s mess.
He unclothes you properly first. Takes off your shirt and dirty shorts before he undresses himself. You like skin to skin, so his shirt comes off as his pants lay low on his hips. When he’s like that, you reach your arms around his neck like you know what’s coming. Suguru chuckles at how instinctual it is, lets you reach out for him - your sticky body adhering to his skin.
“Messy little pussy. Going to let me fuck you some more? Fuck another load into you, huh beautiful?”
You nod stupidly. He kisses the side of your head. Of course you will.
It never fails to send pure electricity up Suguru’s spine when he fucks you like this. Never fails to make him so hard he’s lightheaded, feeling how soft and wet and sloppy you are. Your cunt doesn’t resist him in the slightest. He slides his thick, heavy cock right into your pussy with unbelievable ease and feels everything. Feels your walls pulse with tremors of orgasms, overstimulation making you dizzy with need.
Suguru groans. You feel incredible like this. Feel perfect, so stretched open, so delirious, full of his best friends cum. He’s never felt a single thing so euphoric as this.
He ducks his head down to give you the proper care. The best part of all of it for him. His mouth latches on your tender tits and his hand goes between your bodies - thumb circling your clit as he bottoms out easily into your pussy and stays there.
It’d be a waste to fuck you hard, everything dripping out where Satoru has worked so hard to fill. Suguru opts instead to lay you out on your spine and grind into you. Your legs weakly wrap around his waist as the head of his cock bullies your gspot, pushing into you and rubbing against the sensitive spongy area. Silky walls soggy as they cling to him while you cry out again.
With Satoru, you mostly keep to yourself. Bratty and firm. But with him, you’re so needy. You whimper his name and beg for his attention and ask for something you aren’t sure of because you trust Suguru so completely. You forget your obstinance as you beg him for a proper orgasm, not one that happened to get rung out of you because Satoru can’t help himself.
Suguru can never last long like this, but he lasts long enough to fulfill your wishes. He relishes in the weakened pulses of your pussy, spasming around him for the last time. Your nails dig into his biceps, as he hums against your tits and lets you ride out your continued high.
Only once it’s over does he let himself cum. Buries himself as deep as he can go and gives you his own load, grunting into the crook of your neck as he shakes - his abs tightening before going soft inside of you. Thick white ropes of cum filling you even deeper. Sloppy fucking pussy for his pretty. perfect girl.
“Suguru,” You whine, your hands gripping onto him for life - usual personality evaporated to mush. “Suguru I love you,”
He laughs to himself. See? No issues. Suguru always knows how to put you back together.
“I love you too, baby.”
#getou x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#writing tag#dubcon cw#idk if i like this i just wanted to get it out
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DPxDC. Talon Dick. Part 2 of Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls
~Hail, Emperor, those who are about to die salute you~
Danny was terrified when he got the body of Talon in his morgue. The Court of Owls was notorious for leaving no trace after work. But Talon, a young man only a few years older than him, did not look like a mindless killing machine at all.
Of course, the first time he had a couple of stab wounds from his new acquaintance but after numerous assurances that his help would remain their little secret and that he would not inform his superiors that he had fucked up on the mission, Talon began to trust him a little. as one dead boy to another.
In a few months, most of the Talons come to him for first aid, and of course he got attached to the guys. After all, Gotham is not Amity Park and without the other dead ones around Phantom felt a little lonely. It was nice to give these poor people a few quiet minutes.
Danny’s assistant has warned him many times not to mess with the Court of Owls, but Danny are Phantom and from the first time he met one of them he was planning to lose his temper and beat the boys' bosses to free them.
Fenton was not prepared to lead the Court of Owls. Even if Danny got his education as a villain he never thought he’d work according to his profession. But leave a whole den? nest? of creatures turned into weapons he could not. Of course, the best choice after defeating the leaders of the Court would be to destroy the entire organization. But Danny couldn’t do that.
Talons were killers, means of intimidation, even if not of their own volition. They will be killed (again) or sent to prison for the rest of their lives. Talons needed safety and a good therapist, not all of this. Danny’s scared, and he doesn’t know how to take care of them, but the others won’t do it. People are afraid of everything different. They won’t care that these dead are just victims, they’ll only see monsters. He could be half-human, but now he has to think like a full ghost. Talons are dead like him. And they have been dehumanized, tortured, used. People can be cruel. To do the right thing, he has to protect them.
It was difficult for Danny to identify likes and dislikes of his new friends because they always had the same facial expression and were taught that they had no feelings. Bullshit. Danny’s parents also think ghosts have no emotions, but they just have wrong theories and do not manipulate them to make ghosts think the same. Well, maybe it’s because they don’t think ghosts can think at all, but still!
So, Danny know that number three loves strawberry jam, and number five always steals some of his cereal, and number 11 always gets closer to the music column to enjoy the sound. And he also know that the Talons weren’t fully fed in their organization because they definitely have problems with their digestive system, and he is going to fix it. Vlad said that he had trouble taking human food for only a few months after the portal accident, and some of the Talons were dead for years and still use injecting nutrient solutions. When a Dead Man can’t have a couple of spoons of treats, well, that’s a crime.
He needs to find a way to consult with Frostbite and conduct a full-fledged health diagnostics for his 'minions'. And he needs to settle the paperwork so guys have a legitimate reason to live in the Infinite Realms.
~~~~~
Danny: Hey Jazz, I’m in trouble. When can you come to Gotham? This time I don’t mind hearing a little advice.
~~~~~
Even though Dr Fenton smelled like death and blood all the time, the smell was different. And this difference was enough that something dead inside them swore allegiance to this Owl at their will. Not that they had it, of course. Weapons don’t have free will. But at least pretending to be able to choose is nice.
The new Master was weird, but in a good way. Not that this Talon know more about what is good than any other Talon. Ah, Di- Talon had a headache. Anyway, serving him is right. They all feel it..And feelings matter!! Well, they are not supposed to have them too but… looks like the young owl didn’t mind.
Master was not angry at how Talon № 4 frowned when the master had to pull a bullet out of his shoulder, and he missed Talon's sweet laughter when it saw the battle of Signal and Spice King on TV.
The only times he raised his voice to them were when they were trying to threaten people near the master. Looks like this owl wanted to instill fear on his own. Strange. Usually there was always an enemy of the court who had to be hunted down and destroyed.
~~~~~
Danny: See, when you kill people, you do not make it easy for me. First, I will need to examine the bodies and write the report of their death. Second, if their souls remain restless, they will become my problem again. No more trying to get the cashier to have a heart attack. He said they ran out of the product I needed, not that he’s cursing my family for the next millennium. No one wants to see any more angry ghosts in Gotham. Me after a 24-hour shift is enough, okay?
Talons were alarmed. So far the master had shown no signs that he might want to completely break one of the weapons. But what if this owl is planning on punishing them for all their mistakes at once when he’s really angry?
Talon is not supposed to show initiative or empathy. But Talon 12, who suffered an injury in the course of a mission with old owls, has not yet recovered.
They inadvertently hid it when the leadership changed. 12 has not yet met Doctor Fenton, and they do not know whether the privileges of medical care are retained now when they belong to him.
So far, the Master has been rather careless about their movements and a few of them have slipped away for a while to check on a fellow. They didn’t lie if they weren’t asked about another weapon, right? They shouldn’t be punished too severely when the Owl finds out.
Talons were hoping that Doctor Fenton, who was not in a hurry to look at the document of the court, would allow them not to write off the damaged thing. № 12 was an old and experienced weapon and could train beginners even if it has only one hand now.
Well, that was the plan. Talons allowed themselves to become too careless. Terrible mistake. Even the Owl that is usually nice to them remains dangerous. They need to find a way to satisfy their young master. Young Owls always have anger issues, not that Talons can judge.
The youngest Talon shared information that he sometimes had flashbacks of a working red bird who always had a murderous expression until he got to the coffee pot fluid. And it's non-Talon past was never afraid of this bird. The chick could always be calmed with this dark liquid. Coffee is something that will return the master to the favorable mood!
Talons rejoiced at this remarkable discovery and decided to send one of them on a mission as soon as possible to get rid of the potential danger.
~~~~
Danny: Thanks for the coffee, man. Hey, you also took another drink, judging by the dollars in the check. I'm so proud of you! How it was? Good?
Talon thought for a second and nodded. Yes, it was good. He didn’t drink the drink himself but when a coffee shop employee wrote down his order with a trembling hand, a boy appeared in the door.
This boy, now almost a young man, he was from his memories. Another coffee was automatically added to the order.
On his way out, Talon walked up to the sleeping chick and gave a cup to him. Even without opening his eyes, the bat’s cub sniffed and sucked the drink. Dick chirped with delight and patted boy's head, ignoring the frozen people.
That's a true magic drink which is commanding the minds of the powerful of this world. Yes, it will help them for sure!
~~~~
Danny: See, Jazz, Dick’s making progress! He went to the coffee shop today. That’s great, isn’t it?
Jazz: First, don’t call him that, we’re still not sure that’s his name and not the way Owls used to insult him.
Danny: Hey, the fact that he hissed when you called him Richard proves nothing. I don’t like being called Daniel either, or, over my dead body, Dan. I have to call him something. They’re all Talons. What are your suggestions?
Jazz: We’ll talk about this later. Now back to the coffee question. Danny, did you forget anything when you let Talon go for a walk?
Danny: Which one?
Jazz: Don’t play dumb! Did you open the news headlines today or not? This is serious!
Danny: What? Shit...civilian clothes. I didn’t think he’d wear a combat suit for it.
Jazz: Didn’t you give them outfits for everyday use?
Danny: Yeah, I did! But they still wear their Halloween outfits. All the time. Look, it’s not my fault they take everything I say as an order. When I asked them to make the tea and our teapot broke, they broke into some guy’s house and stole it.
Jazz: Which guy? Did you at least apologize?
Danny: One of Hood’s goons. I’m pretty sure he’s already met Dick on patrol, 'cause the first thing he did called Jason and start crying about being followed. Lucky for him Red was at my house that night and went to calm goon down. But I swear to you, Dick was a little shit on purpose. Of all the apartments choose his? Nah, such coincidences do not exist.
Jazz: I could be happy that he’s getting more independent in his decision making but now I feel like I have to offer the poor guy a discount therapy course.
Damian: Drake, we need to talk. I know about your investigation. You suspect one of the Talons is our missing Grayson. I’m willing to provide some evidence in exchange for…
Tim: I don’t suspect, I know that.
Damian: What? Where from?
Tim: Well, the quadruple somersault was a good hint. And the fact that the Red Hood ran from him through the streets screaming that he wouldn’t take lunch from a damn golden child is also a tip.
Damian:...Not a word to my father until we know more, right? I don’t want my older brother thrown in Arkham.
Tim: Agree. It’s not like he doesn’t have a memory problem. He wouldn’t have made Alfred worried if leaving was his choice. We need more information.
Meanwhile in Gotham, Alfred aka the only one batfam member with more than one functioning brain cell *on his way to his first grandson and future husband of his sweet angel Jason*.
Danny: Jazz, we need to clean this house right now.
Jazz: Since when do you start spring cleaning?
Danny: I don’t know how to explain, it’s not a ghost sense, it’s more an unexplained sense of danger. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?
~~~~~
Talon №5 stood in the knitting shop in thought. What color would the little mistress prefer? It should remain useful even if the Owl does not give them direct orders. Knitting a cute sweater for mistress Dani would be a good start. Yeah, that color’s gonna be perfect. And maybe it should stop holding those needles like a weapon, it makes the cashier nervous, and he wants to pay without saving a civilian from losing consciousness.
~~~~~
Danny became a little alarmed when Talon threw himself at the old man standing on the porch. To his surprise, the Briton readily embraced the bird, and Dick let him.
Talons who stood behind Danny happily chirped. Making their youngest member happy things always meant something good.
Alfred: Gentlemen, good afternoon. I guess I should thank you all for taking care of my dear grandson. Would you let me come in for a cup of tea?
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Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 2
A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.
Word count: 6.3
Genre: Smut, angst
Warnings: fem!reader, dry humping, degradation, dom!reader, sub!beomgyu, fleshlights, beomgyu being a perv and using oc's panties
You step into the apartment, hoping against hope that you won’t find Beomgyu in there. It’s been a few days since your fight, and you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder–ignoring his text messages, giving him one-word replies whenever he speaks to you, pretending you’re too busy to continue the marathon of whatever stupid show you were currently watching–and every time you do that, he’d look so heartbroken you have to fight for your life to not forgive him then and there.
But fate hates you, or maybe it was by Beomgyu’s design, because as soon as you step into the living room, you see Beomgyu on the couch, fiddling with his guitar. He looks up when he hears you enter.
You try to make a run for it, sight set on your bedroom door, but Beomgyu quickly springs up and calls your name. “Wait! I wanna talk to you.”
“Well, I don't wanna talk to you.” You mutter, bee-lining towards your room, but Beomgyu is quicker. It only takes him a couple of large steps to put himself between you and your bedroom door.
“Please!” He begs. “Just talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk right now.” You try to push past him but he won’t budge.
“No, please, listen. I’m sorry for kissing you. I was just… I never got an A before. I didn’t think I could get an A. You know me. You know how everyone thinks that I’m so stupid. I know you think that I’m stupid. It just meant a lot to me. I was so excited to show you that I’m not always such a dumbass.”
You sigh. "I know you're not a dumbass."
“But I am. I’m such a dumbass and I’m so sorry for kissing you but please don’t leave me.”
“Leave you?” You stare at him incredulously. “Beommie, I’m not going to leave you. What makes you think I would?”
“Well you haven’t been talking to me. I thought you were done with me.” He says glumly and you laugh. “No, silly. I was just giving you the silent treatment. Never heard of it?”
"So we’re still friends?" He asks hopefully, tears in his eyes, looking like a kicked puppy.
"Of course, we are. Don't be silly." You reach out to run a hand through his hair, and he happily leans into your touch. "Okay. Promise me we'll never stop being friends. I can't lose you."
You hesitate. This is why he can’t know you’re in love with him. It would ruin you. "I promise." .
“Good.” He gives a big sigh of relief before he throws you a mischievous grin. “Are you going to come see me practice for the big gig today? I need my groupie.”
You smack his shoulder. “I’m not your groupie.”
“You can be. Maybe we can sneak off and mess around backstage.” He pulls you by the hips and rests his forehead against yours but doesn't attempt to kiss you.
"Beommie… I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why?” He whines like a brat, “I won’t try to kiss you again, I promise. I'll be your good boy."
God, the things those simple words do to you. You could never have imagined the man you’ve thirsted after for years acting so needy for you, but you can’t let this go on any longer. It fucking killed you to have him kiss you, knowing it didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you. If you keep this up, you’ll only open yourself up for more hurt. You have to protect yourself.
"I just don't want us to get mad at each other again."
"We won't." He tries to reassure you, but you put a hand to his chest and push him away. "No, gyu. It was fun but we can’t do this anymore.”
He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips to press a kiss against your palm, making your heart flutter. "Then what's going to motivate me to do good?"
"Ice cream?" You suggest, taking your hand away, and he groans. “What’s rock and roll about that?”
You snort. “Your band name is tomorrow by together. There is nothing rock and roll about you guys.”
“Okay, ouch. Groupie invitation revoked.”
__________________
Watching Beomgyu play his guitar is like watching magic happen. Even when he messes up or is struggling–the way he’s just so immersed and serious about his craft is so inspiring and you feel so lucky to be able to witness it.
It was a moment like this–seeing him so lost in the music–when you first realized you’re in love with him. And now, a few years later, that love has only grown stronger.
“He really is an idiot.” You hear a familiar voice next to you and look to the side to see Yeonjun also looking at Beomgyu.
“What do you mean?”
“If I had a girl look at me the way you’re looking at him, I would never let her go.” He says so casually as if he hadn’t just exposed your entire guts out to the world.
“What–-why would you–I–” You sputter, getting even more flustered at the amused look on his face. Damn him. You take a moment to recollect yourself. “Don’t be silly, Yeonjun. We’re just friends.”
“Are you? Then how come you won’t go out with me?”
You roll your eyes. “Have you ever considered that you just might not be my type?”
He raises an eyebrow at you, looking at you like he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Oh, please, I’m everyone’s type. What, you don’t like tall, handsome men? Lead singers? Really talented lovers?”
You suppress the blush his last comment intended to entice in you. “I already told you. I can’t go out with a guy who will flirt more with his fans than me.”
“Aw, are you jealous, baby? You know I can clean my act up for you.” He moves to get closer to you, his hand reaching out to wrap around you, when suddenly Beomgyu steps in between you two. “Leave her alone, Yeonjun.”
“Why? She likes it.” Yeonjun grins, sending you a wink, and you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh. Yeonjun tries to reach out to mess up your hair in revenge, but Beomgyu intercepts him.
“No, she doesn’t. Now, leave.”
“Alright. Alright. Chill. I’ll leave for now but if you’re not gonna snatch her up then don’t blame me for trying.” He sends you a wink, making you blush. “See you later, doll.”
You bite your lip, staring at the ground to try to get your blush under control. You don’t like Yeonjun like that. Well, at least not near as much as you like Beomgyu, but you still can’t help the effect he has on you. He’s just so charming, and if you hadn’t been so absolutely in love with Beomgyu, you would’ve definitely been under him long ago.
“You really shouldn’t encourage him.” Beomgyu says irritably, “You know he’s a manwhore.”
You shrug. “I know but it’s still nice to have a man’s attention.”
“Hey, you have my attention.” He protests, and you stay silent, giving him a cryptic look.
“What?” He narrows his eyes at you, and you shake your head, dispelling any stupid thoughts of confessing your undying love for him. “Nothing. It’s just not the same. You’re my best friend. He could be something more.”
“Oh.” Beomgyu steps back, frowning. “Um…okay. I understand that, but do you really need it from Yeonjun? I just… he’s my bandmate, you know?”
“I know.” You say, even though you really don’t. Why should that matter? “But he’s sweet and charming–”
Beomgyu groans, cutting you off. “Please. Anyone but Yeonjun.”
“Beomgyu—”
“Please.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine.”
You don’t know why it matters so much to him but you honestly don’t care. It’s not like you have your eyes on Yeonjun or anyone else but Beomgyu. You’re hopeless anyway.
__________________
You and Beomgyu have easily settled back into your old routine, pre-hooking up. Like right now, you’re cuddled up on his bed watching a movie as if nothing had ever happened–as if you’ve never touched him–as if just the feeling of his body wrapped around yours isn’t scorching your skin.
“I can’t believe we’re watching this stupid movie again.” You groan, shoveling popcorn into your mouth.
“Hey! I’ll have you know that Top Gun is one of the greatest pieces of cinema ever made.” He defends his favorite movie fiercely.
“The greatest bore ever made you mean.” You grumble and he kicks your leg. “Shut up. I don’t insult your stupid horror movies when you make me watch them.”
“You just did!” You retort, and he scoffs. “Well they’re stupid.”
“Whatever. We’re watching The Shining after this.”
“No we’re not!” He protests heatedly, and you answer back just as passionately. “Why not? We agreed we would watch one movie horribly picked by you, and another very superiorly picked by me.”
He looks down at his hands, mumbling quietly. “You know those twins freak me out. I won’t be able to sleep for a week if we watch that.”
“Aw, Beommie.” You coo, propping a finger under his chin to make him look up at you. “Well tough luck, wuss. We’re watching it.”
“I hate you.” He whines, burying his face into your neck.
Yup, all back to normal. You don’t want to cry because just the light brush of his breath against your skin sends your nervous system into overdrive. Nope. You’re all good. Just two friends watching a terrible movie.
_______________________________
For a guy who just said he’s so afraid of The Shining, he won’t be able to sleep, he sure is sleeping very soundly right now.
You glare down at him. He made you sit all through that stupid movie and he’s knocked out half-way through yours. You’d wake him up and give him a severe talking to if you weren’t so incredibly, wonderfully comfortable right now. You feel so warm and toasty with his long body wrapped around you like this, and the view you have–his face resting against your chest so close you can count his eyelashes… it was heaven for you. You suppose you’ll let him sleep for a bit more.
Maybe you should get some shut-eye too. You’ve been so tired staying up all night studying for the test you took earlier this morning that you can’t help dozing off yourself, his embrace more comfortable than a bed of clouds to you.
You were feeling so fucking peaceful, the weight of sleep helping to push down all your negative feelings that you don’t even pay much attention to Beomgyu’s repeated movements at first, just chalking them up to him shifting around to try to get comfortable like you.
Sure, it was taking longer than was reasonable and he was pressing himself closer and closer to you each time, but it’s not like you were going to complain. The closer to Beomgyu, the better, right? It’s only when you feel something hard pushing up against your thigh that you realize what exactly is happening.
"Beommie, what are you doing?" You mutter sleepily.
He goes rigid and it takes him a while to respond. "...nothing."
You would have let it go if you didn’t still feel his hard cock against you. “Oh, really?” You challenge, moving your thigh up against him, ripping a deep groan from his throat. “Then what is this?”
“Okay, okay, I really missed you.” He groans, wrapping his entire body around you. “And you just felt too good against me.”
You scoff. “Have you no self control?” You ask even as you move your thigh against his cock.
“No.” He admits, full on humping you. “Just need you.”
“Beomgyu…” You pretend to hesitate, not wanting to let him off the hook quite so easily, not wanting him to see how much you need him too.
“Please, baby.” He begs, voice even deeper with sleep and all husky. That was your undoing.
“Fine. You can keep going, fuck me.” You ‘finally’ relent, but the spoiled brat isn’t content with that. He tries to pull your shorts down. “Can I actually fuck you?”
“No! I meant you can fuck my thigh.” You clarify, silencing his emerging protests with your finger in his mouth. “It’s bad enough that I’m letting you hump me like a rabid dog. You don’t get more.”
“But this is so humiliating.” He whines through your finger before burying his face against your shoulder as he continues to vigorously dry hump you, miming fucking you the best he can.
"I've seen you hump your body pillow before– More times than I would have liked– This is an upgrade for you, you pervert."
"You're so mean." He whines again and you snort. "I'm helping get your virgin ass off. How am I mean?"
“You’re just so mean.” He cries, grinding fervently against you.
“And you’ve gone brain-dead again.” You laugh, “Come on, baby. Just focus on getting off. You’re almost there aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then come on. I want to feel you cumming against my thigh. It would be really fucking sexy.” You drawl, pulling his head back so he can look at you.
“Y-yeah?”
“Yeah.” You trace a finger over his perfect lips, resisting the urge to kiss them. Fuck, now that you’ve had a taste, it’s like you’ve developed a craving to them. This is why you should have never let him kiss you. “You’re so pretty, wanna see you lose control.”
“Okay–okay… if you want it.” He stares at you deeply, and you nod.
“I really do.” You murmur, “Want you to cum all over yourself for me.”
“You’re so fucking dirty.” He growls, pushing your legs open and pressing himself between your them so he’s humping your pussy instead of your thigh.
“Hey! Bad boy!” You screech, stuttering when his cock brushes against your clit. Your hand goes out to grab him by the hair. “Bad b-boy.”
“Please, please, don’t make me let go.” He pants, his hips driving into yours roughly. “I’m almost there. Gonna cum for you, pretty.”
You hesitate at the nickname, loosening your grip.
"No, pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."
"Now who's the dirty one?"
"I can't help it." He sucks in a sharp breath, "You drive me crazy."
Well, that makes two of you.
"Fuck, Beommie." You gasp, pulling on his hair and making him lose it. The way his cock is grinding against your clit making you reach the edge yourself. If he keeps this up, you might actually…
"Oh god, yes, yes, fuck!' He shudders and can tell by the warmth soaking his pants and the way he presses his hips snug against yours that he had orgasmed.
Oh well, so much for that.
"Did… did you cum?" He asks once he had caught his breath a bit.
"No." You admit awkwardly, a little breathless yourself, and he looks disappointed. "It's okay, I'll take care of it."
"But I wanna do it." He whines. “Let me.”
"No, Beomgyu." You refuse to let him feel how wet you are right now. He can’t know how much you want him. You can’t let him touch you because if he did, you don’t know if you would ever get enough.
"Why not?” He huffs, annoyed. “Why don't you want me to touch you? Do you find me so repulsive?"
"Don't be ridiculous.” You grit out. How very Beomgyu to be this oblivious. “You’re very handsome.”
"You clearly don't think so. Otherwise you wouldn't freak out every time I try to touch you." He snaps, “Listen, I know I’m no Yeonjun, but you don’t have to make me feel so hideous.”
“This has nothing to do with Yeonjun or you, you ass.” You lie through your teeth. "I'm just not ready to let anyone touch me yet, okay? Unlike you I’m not just looking to get my rocks off. This actually means something to me.”
“So it’s okay to meaninglessly get someone off but it’s not okay to let them get you off too?” He calls you out on your flawed logic.
“Yes.” You double down anyway, and he opens his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, realizing you need to end this discussion before you say something stupid. “See? This is exactly why I didn’t want us to hook up again. Maybe we should–”
“No, no! Fine, I’ll back off.” He puts his hands up in the air, literally backing off. “I won’t try to touch you or kiss you or do anything to you anymore. Only you can do what you want.”
“Beomgyu–”
“Please! I really don’t want this to end. It feels good being with you.” He pleads. God, he has no idea what he’s doing to you. It’s unfair that he has this much effect on you and he doesn’t even know it.
You really shouldn’t say yes. This is only going to end in disaster, if you say yes.
“Fine.”
____________
“I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m just going to go home.” Beomgyu exclaims, freaking out in his small dressing room. He and his band have been invited to play at one of the most popular spots in town. It’s a huge opportunity for them, and so naturally it comes with a great deal of pressure, which Beomgyu is definitely feeling.
“No! You can’t!” You intercept him, holding onto him tightly so he won’t escape. “You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for years! You can’t just go.”
“But I am freaking out. I am going to make a fool of myself if I go on that stage. I know I will.” He cries, looking at you with pure panic in his eyes that is actually contagious. But you fight to keep in control of yourself. You have to be the rational one for him.
“You are going to do great–”
“You don’t know that. They will hate me. They’re boo me. Oh, god, they’re going to throw things at me. I have to go. I have to–”
You grab his face and kiss him, shutting him up, and even though this time you’re prepared for the kiss, the feel of his lips still takes you off guard. There is nothing in the world that could prepare you for the electricity you feel whenever your lips touch, and this time when you hold onto him, it’s to keep yourself from falling to the ground.
“You won’t.” You tell him once you bring yourself to pull away from the kiss. Or once you run out of oxygen that is. “You’re the most talented musician I know. I know you’re freaking out right now but once you’re out there, you’re going to put on the greatest show those people have ever seen. I know you will, because you’re that good!”
“You kissed me.” He mumbles, confused.
“Well, you wouldn’t shut up.” You mutter nervously.
“Right.” He clears his throat, and it’s silent for a few seconds before he looks at you shyly. “You really think I’m the most talented musician, you know?”
“I know you are.” You say truthfully.
“Even more than Yeonjun?” He asks and you roll your eyes. “Even more than Yeonjun.”
He grins widely, triumphant. “Okay. I will go out there and show those fuckers how it’s done.” He says confidently, taking a step towards the stage before he quickly doubles back. “But before I go… another kiss for good luck?”
Oh god, you’re being put through hell and you have no one to blame but yourself.
“Don’t get used to this.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into another kiss.
_________________
Beomgyu does amazing. Maybe it’s the stage lights, maybe it’s the sway of the music, maybe it’s the energy of the crowd, maybe it’s how happy he looks up there–but you’ve never been so in love with him. And so proud, and so amazed, and so bewitched.
And it seems everyone around you thinks the same. The crowd absolutely went wild for him and his band. They cheered loudly after every song. They hooted and clapped whenever one of the boys interacted with them. They enthusiastically answered their questions and followed their requests. It all went so well, you just know this gig has secured them many more in the future, and you like to think that you helped in your own way, by keeping the lead guitarist from running away before the concert.
Said guitarist grabs you and hauls you off the ground in a suffocating hug as soon as he sees you backstage. “Did you see that? Did you hear how loudly they cheered for us?”
“So loudly I think one of my eardrums has ruptured actually.” You laugh, making a show of pulling at your ear. “You guys did so amazing, Beommie! The band absolutely blew everyone away!”
“Who cares about the band? I rocked!” He shakes you excitedly.
“Yes, you did.” You easily give in to him fishing for compliments. He deserves it. “You were the star of the show. I heard so many people around me–”
“Oh my god.” Beomgyu gasps, staring at something behind you.
“What?”
“It’s Haeun.”
You look back to see the devil herself. “Oh.”
“Beommie!” She greets him enthusiastically, coming over. Beommie? That’s your nickname for him. You’re the only one who calls him that!
“You did really well.” She enthuses, making him puff his chest out like a goddamn rooster. “Y-you l-liked it?”
“Of course, I did. I always knew you’re so talented.”
You can’t help the snort that escapes you, and they both look at you, Beomgyu mortified and Haeun unimpressed. “Sorry, something was stuck in my throat.” You mutter, wishing the ground would swallow you up right about now.
“Anyways,” She rolls her eyes at you then pins him with a flirty look so thick you think you could actually suffocate on it “What I was saying is that you looked really good up there.”
He gulps, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She coos, stepping closer to him and running her hand down his arm through his sleeveless shirt until she reaches his hand and pulls it up, playing with his fingers. “You really know how to finger those strings, huh? I wonder if the guitar is the only thing you can play?”
Once again, you can’t keep in the noise of disgust that came from deep within you, but this time neither Beomgyu nor her pay any attention to you.
“Uh—well—I–” He stutters dumbly. Typical.
“Why don’t you and the band come to the party I am hosting Friday? Maybe you can show me those moves up close?” She winks at him.
“Hell y-yeah. I’ll be there.” He chokes out and she smiles widely. “Great. See you then.” She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek and you almost reach out to scratch her eyes out but you contain yourself.
She gives you one last snobby look before throwing her hair back and walking off. Beomgyu stares after her, dazed. "Am I crazy or did she just flirt with me?"
“Come on, Beomgyu, apes are more subtle than her.” You grumble, the fire of jealousy consuming your insides. “Anyways, you know she’s only doing this because you’re becoming successful, right? She always treated you as a loser before, never giving you the time of day, but now suddenly that you gain a shred of popularity, she starts liking you?"
"Oh." He pauses for a second, and you reach out to pat his back, wishing to comfort him, when he breaks into a huge grin. “So what you’re saying is that I’m popular and she likes me? Awesome!”
“Ugh.” You storm away, followed behind by a confused Beomgyu.
________________
“Since I did really well today, don’t I deserve a reward?” Beomgyu grabs you as soon as you’re back at your apartment, pulling you flush against him and trying to kiss you.
Now, you would have loved to give in. That kiss you shared earlier still tingles at your lips, but not after what he did. The nerve of him after slobbering all over another woman in front of you!
“Wait until the party, maybe she’ll give you your reward.” You push him away, disgusted at the thought of it. But Beomgyu continues proving to you why he easily wins the title of least aware person in the entire universe. “But I want my reward now.”
“God, Beomgyu, you really know how to turn a girl on.” You growl, shoving him out of your way. “Go to sleep.”
"What's your problem?" You hear him ask before you slam the door shut.
You rip your clothes off–band merch you wore to support the idiot–and put on a long shirt. Which as soon as you settle under the covers, you discover actually belongs to him, his scent all over it and drowning you in unwanted feelings.
You don’t care that she came on to him. You don’t care that she invited him to her party. You don’t care that he’ll probably go and she’ll make a move on him and he’ll fall deeper in love with her and she’ll have him all wrapped around her finger and–
Okay, you care. You care too much. You can’t handle the thought of it any longer, but you can’t reveal your real feelings. It will be the end of you. No, you have to bottle it all down.
‘You can’t let it show.’ You think to yourself as you curl into a ball, shutting out the outside world and even your own memories, trying to just be claimed by sleep.
But the world isn’t that fair, and through your curled form you can hear the sound of Beomgyu moaning out. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying but you’ve heard him enough times to know exactly what he’s doing.
You bet he’s thinking of her. You bet he’s imagining fingering her. You can’t allow that. Not while you’re lying here breaking over him.
You throw the covers off you and storm to his room, bursting the door open.
“Hey!” He cries out, trying to cover his junk.
You roll your eyes. “It’s just me. No need to freak out.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I heard you from my room.” You say plainly. “You weren't exactly subtle. Now let me see.”
“But I thought you–”
“Do you want it or not?”
He only hesitates for a second, the whore, before he throws the blanket away. You roll your eyes, getting onto the bed and grabbing his dick, pumping it in your hand. He immediately flops back, relaxing into your touch. “Oh god, I needed this.”
"Yeah? Got all horny from the way everyone was eyeing you up? You know you really gave Yeonjun a run for his money with how slutty you were acting." You mutter bitterly. Yes, you enjoyed the show, but it wasn’t only Haeun eyeing him up.
Beomgyu glares at you. "Can we not talk about him while you're fisting my cock?"
“Whatever.” You brush him off, focused on something else right now. "So, thinking of fucking any of your new fans?"
“Hmmm.” He mumbles, and you can see from the way his eyes have gone all glazed that he’s not paying attention. “You. I really wanna fuck you.” He thrusts into your hand, whining.
"You wish."
"I really do." He breathes out, and your own breath stutters. Man, this is dangerous but you can’t stop. You speed up your movement, making Beomgyu wince.
“Wait, dry, dry, hurts.” Beomgyu whines at the chafing feeling, and you almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for his next words. “Why don’t you put it in your mouth to get it wet?”
You snort, seeing right through him. “You’re not slick, gyu.”
“But it really is dry.” He pouts, making a show of expressing his pain as you continue to jerk him off, and you sigh, removing your hand. “Where is your lube?”
“In your mouth.” He replies like a smartass and you pin him down with a glare. “I can always stop, you know?”
“Okay, okay, it’s in the drawer.” He gives up, pointing to his bedside cabinet, and you quickly look away from his adorable pout, knowing if you look at it too long you’d just give him everything he wants.
“What the fuck is this?” You pause in your tracks once you open up the drawer.
“What?” He asks, a confused look on his face that quickly turns to horror once he sees what you’ve fished out of the drawer.
You hold up a fleshlight and a pair of panties silently, waiting for him to explain. Panties that you know too well, your own fucking panties in fact.
“I can explain.”
“Yes, please. Explain to me how you’re such a massive pervert who steals his best friend’s panties so he can jerk off with them.”
“You’re not just my best friend.” He protests lamely and your stupid heart swells up against your best efforts, only for him to smash it to pieces again. “We mess around and you get me so horny, I can't help but imagine what you'd feel like. But I know you don't want that so I had to get creative."
Well, it’s still a compliment, right? He’s jerking off with your panties, not hers. Then again, you’re his roommate and he has easier access to your underwear.
You throw the items at him. “Show me what you do with them.”
"But I don't wanna… I want you." He whimpers, leaning towards you and trying to kiss you.
"Tough luck.” You hiss, pushing him away. “I want to see."
He groans, grabbing the lube and squirting a generous amount onto the toy before pushing it in with his fingers… in and out, in and out.
Okay, that bitch may have had a point about his fingers.
"Get to it already." You snap, mouth dry.
"I'm just getting it ready, sheesh." He mutters, finally lining the toy up with his cock before moving it down his length.
"Oh…" He sighs, head falling back as the toy takes his cock.
"Feels good?" You whisper, and he nods, pulling the toy off with a wet sound, taking a second to catch his breath before pushing it down again.
"God, you're pathetic." You mutter, more to yourself than to him. You're so fucking turned on right now, you’re sure you’re more wet than that fucking toy. "Fucking a plastic pussy because you can't get laid?"
"You wanna volunteer to f-fuck me instead?" He grits out but it sounds more like a moan with how much he's struggling to not succumb to the pleasure.
“Is that what you think about when you're fucking yourself?" You ask and he hesitates, the toy slipping off his cock.
God, his cock looked so good–so hard and glistening and thick. You wanna throw that stupid toy away and take him instead… but you can't. So you grab the hand he has holding the toy and make him move it to his cock again.
He gasps as you push it back down. “Ah…y-yeah. Think about fucking you all the time.”
It takes everything in you not to put your hand between your legs and rub yourself off right now. “And what do you do with the panties?”
He freezes, a deep blush dusting his cheeks. “I don’t wanna say.”
Now that just makes you want to know all the more. “You know I can always leave?” You threaten and he groans, his hips bucking into the toy. “Stop saying that. It’s not fair.”
“Show me.” You insist and he whimpers, not looking at you as he grabs the panties with his free hand and pulls them towards his face, taking a whiff off them.
“Oh my god, you freak.” You gasp, your thighs pressing together at the obscene sight.
“No, please–”
“I didn't say you could stop.” You snap when he drops his hand and stops fucking his fleshlight.
He whimpers, bringing the cloth back to his face, his tongue peeking out to lick against the fabric.
“Fuck, you’re disgusting.”
He whines again, shaking his head. “Just wanna taste you.”
You cock your head to the side curiously. “You wanna taste me?”
“Uh-huh.” He nods dumbly, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the thought of it. Well, who are you to deny him something he wants this badly?
You put your hand down your shorts, nearly making him choke as he watches you rub your soaking pussy a little bit to coat your fingers before bringing them out and holding them for him to see. You spread your fingers apart, showing him the strings of arousal between them. “You want this?”
He drops the panties and sticks his tongue out like a dog begging for a treat, his hips never ceasing their rutting into his toy, the sticky sound of his cock pushing in and out ringing against your ears. “Please…please…”
“Okay, quit drooling.” You mutter in disgust at the saliva falling onto the sheets below, and move your hand towards him. As soon as your fingers are within reach, he takes them fully into his touch, moaning out at the taste.
He sucks them off, his tongue licking up any juices in between your fingers until there is none left. Then he pants, “More…sit on my face.”
You pull your hand away, your pussy quivering at the thought but you don’t let it show. “No way. You don’t deserve it.”
“Why not? I’ve been good. Haven’t I been good?”
‘Not when you’re thirsting over her.’ You think to yourself bitterly.
“Please.”
“I said no.” You shut him down, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun of your own. Finally giving into the temptation, you slip a hand into your shorts as you watch him continue to fuck his toy.
Beomgyu groans out loud. “Oh, come on. Now you’re just teasing me.”
“How am I teasing you?” You grin, rubbing your clit as you watch him lose it over you. Yeah, this is why you continue to do this. This will be your undoing.
“You know how much I wanna touch you. Just come on up and sit on my face.”
“No.”
“Please. I can make you feel better than your fingers can. Just give me a chance.”
“Oh please, you’re a virgin, Beomgyu. I know you have no experience. I’m better off fucking myself.” You laugh at him.
“Yes, I do. Look at this.” He leans forward, pressing his fleshlight against the bed and fucking into it.
“Is that how you imagine fucking me?”
“Yeah–you always take it so well.”
Fuck, he really knows how to get you going.
You shake your head. “Well I’m not a plastic toy for you to hammer your dick into. I need to feel pleasure too.”
“Then teach me.” He cries out desperately. “You can make me do whatever you want. I won’t say no.”
“Are you whoring yourself out to me?”
“Yes. I’m your whore.” He agrees, his dick thrusting wildly into his toy, and you in turn pushing your fingers into yourself and matching his pace, pretending he’s fucking you. “Just please do something. I’m going to burst.”
“But I want you to burst, baby.” You lean closer to him, brushing your nose against his. “I like how pathetic you look cumming on yourself or in a pocket pussy. You’re such a fucking loser.”
He’s nearly gasping at this point. “Come on, please. Wouldn’t having my cock inside you feel so much better than your fingers? Just pin me down and use me the way you like. I don’t mind.”
He’s driving you fucking crazy. You’re one second away from breaking. And maybe you would have, if he hadn’t kept talking.
“Just need to feel a real pussy.”
How does he always do this? He always ruins it for himself, always reminds you that you’re just a pair of tits and a warm pussy for him. Not who he really wants, just what’s available.
You sigh heavily, taking your fingers away from your pussy. “I’m getting bored. If you don’t blow your load now, then you can do it by yourself.”
“No, no. I can do it. I’m a good boy.”
“Yeah? Are you a good, pretty slut who cums on command?” You mock him, but he doesn’t care. He wants it too bad.
“Yeah. Just–just give me a kiss.” He pleads, and seeing your face, he quickly adds. “Just a kiss and I’ll empty my balls out for you.”
Well, it’s not like this would be the most egregious mistake you’ve ever made. You’ve already kissed him. Might as well get this over with and go back to your bed so you can wallow in how you’re nothing but a warm body to him.
“Fine.” You press your lips against his and he immediately opens his mouth, his tongue licking your lips, trying to push inside. You let him, wrapping your lips around his tongue and sucking on it before brushing against it with your own tongue. Meanwhile, you sneak your hand between you, taking control of the fleshlight and pumping it rapidly over his sensitive cock, not even giving him a chance.
“Do it then. Now.” You demand, your lips still connected together with a thick string of saliva. “Oh god, oh my god, cumming, cumming baby.”
He kisses you again, muffling the noises of his climax against your mouth, and you take every bit of it like you can never get enough.
But eventually he pulls back, his high over and not needing you anymore.
“God, that was crazy.” He says at last.
“Yeah. Learned a lot about you and what you like to do behind closed doors.” You mutter, and his eyes widen.
“Listen, it’s not–”
“It’s not what I think, I know. You’re just a pervert who needed some help getting off. I get it. But next time you take one of my panties, I’m breaking your arms.”
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A/N: well I think there is one more chapter or at most two left of this series. kind of a short one. what are we thinking so far? always open to hear ideas. i just thought of an ending but i'd love to hear from you guys. maybe i'll be inspired
Taglist: @wonwooz1 @yaorzu-blog @allylikesdabee @rkivezzs @malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop
this was just a provisional taglist as i don't usually do one. it's just a few people have specifically asked to be tagged so there you go
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Snow Lands On Top (2) || Coriolanus Snow x Reader (+18)
Outline: It’s the first round of the presidential elections and Coriolanus Snow’s results aren’t as good as he hoped. Fortunately, you’re there to give him an outlet for his frustration.
Word count: 3’081
Warnings: pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, very explicit ROUGH smut.
Author’s note: I wrote this as a second part to There Will Come A Ruler, since a few people asked for it. I also wanted to thank you all for all the love I received since I started posting on this page a few days ago, it means the world to me! Still blows my mind that so many people bothered reading what I wrote! ♡
(( Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler )) - (( Part 3 - Insatiable ))
It only was your second time stepping inside the tall skyscraper that hosted your husband’s office - and headquarters. When the elevator doors opened in front of you, you instantly felt trapped, probably because the lobby was more crowded than what you expected. Even if something inside you was screaming for you to turn around and run the other way instead of losing yourself in this den of vipers, you had no choice but to do what duty required of you. You plastered a smile on your face, the one too bright and too joyful to let how miserable you really felt show, and entered the crowd, recognizing some familiar faces and greeting strangers pretending you also knew who they were. If they had been invited today to Coriolanus’s office, it meant they were important to him so you had to consider them as important to you as well.
“Hippity hoppity, there you are, little dove.” A voice sounded behind you. You heard it as clear as day despite the ambiant noise all around you, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You turned to face who it belonged too, smiling even brighter to conceal the uneasiness you always felt around such an eccentric character.
“Volumnia Gaul, it’s good to see you again.”
“It’s been too long. But I suppose you’ve been quite busy trying to fulfill your duties.” She said, throwing a knowing glance down to your stomach.
“Of course, there’s never a dull moment since I became Coriolanus’ wife.” You smiled, in yet another attempt to conceal your lies. You had been miserable and bored during most of the year you’ve been married, and although you were good at acting by now, the way Dr Gaul stared at you made you feel like she was seeing right through you.
“You should bring her to the front, people need to see you together.” She said, looking up to someone behind you.
You felt him before seeing him, his hand finding the small of your back and his tall frame appearing next to you, your shoulder brushing against his side. You lifted your gaze up to look at your husband, but he didn’t look down at you, focusing his attention on his mentor instead, the only thing letting you know that he had noticed you was his hand pressed against your lower back.
“Of course.” He agreed, with a nod. Dr Gaul’s eyes landed on you once more, something unsettling in the way she suddenly stared at you.
“My offer to examine her still stands, if you want me to run a few tests on her and figure out why you haven’t conceived yet.”
Your blood went cold. Everybody knew how deranged Volumnia Gaul could sometimes be, she was as cruel as she was extravagant and it only seemed to get worse the older she got. She had left her place as the head gamemaker of the Hunger Games to Coriolanus and had retired from her scientific career, but she still ran bizarre experiments in her lab, for her own enjoyment… And you definitely didn’t want to be one of them.
“It won’t be necessary.” Your husband assured her, allowing you to breathe again with relief. “It’s not her fault but mine, I’ve been too busy with the games and my campaign to properly invest time into expanding our family.”
Dr Gaul was about to reply something but was cut off by the sound of the television increasing in the speakers. Coriolanus guided you in front of the large window in his office’s lobby, as everyone seemed to step out of your path.
He was smiling, handsome as ever in his dark red suit and you smiled too, pressing yourself closer to him when you noticed the cameras filming you from across the room. It must have been a perfect picture to showcase to the entire nation, a seemingly loving couple standing in front of the nicest view of the Capitol, surrounded by all their supporters as the reporters on TV were about to announce the winner of this round of the elections.
All eyes were on the television as the results appeared on the screen. You held your breath, waiting for Coriolanus’ percentage to go up but it only did a brief jump and then stopped, largely losing to his opponents. You turned to look at him, waiting for a reaction, and so did everyone else present in the room.
True to himself, he held his head high, standing even straighter as he remained stoic, not a single change of the expression on his face to betray his disappointment. But, even if you couldn’t say that you knew your husband that well, you still knew that he must have been crushed by such a bad result. He had worked so hard for this, put up such a show for the people and so did you, his defeat felt like your own.
It startled you when you felt his fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hip. He was tense, you could feel it , but he was still smiling at the crowd, gracious in defeat. He even spoke a few words, only disturbed for a brief second when he noticed the cameras packing up instead of transmitting his speech, the viewers probably more interested in hearing what the victors of this round had to say rather than listen to your husband.
Coriolanus kept his tight grip on you, as if holding you was the only thing that could keep him from snapping. Some of his supporters came to him to offer him some words of encouragement in replacement of congratulations and he handled each conversation with polite manners.
“At least if you don’t win, we get to keep you as head gamermaker.” One lady said, trying to highlight the good in the situation but Coriolanus only gave her a tight smile in return.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out but maybe it just shows you’re better at working on the Games, they’ve been delightful to watch ever since you took over.”
“At least if you don’t have to keep campaigning you can focus your efforts on the next Hunger Games and come up with a show even better than last year’s !”
The very reason of his bad ranking at the election kept being thrown to his face, people simply preferred him as a game maker, so that they could be sure to be entertained by Coriolanus’ genius ideas to make the show an annual event rather than see him becoming president and be bored in front of their television once a year. The other thing that didn’t work out for him, as you understood, was the fact that he didn’t seem as relatable to the people since he didn’t have a family to care for and protect while his opponent, Festus Creed, already had three kids with his wife Persephone. Maybe they loved each other…
Once people were done offering their sympathy, you felt Coriolanus’ warm hand leave you, your skin a bit sore from the intensity of his previous grip on you. He rushed through the crowd, even ignoring a man who tried to address him and went to his office, shutting the door behind him.
Nobody seemed to notice, nor care, that your husband had felt the need to isolate himself but you did for some reason. Maybe it was because you knew how hard it was to keep smiling and nodding at everyone when deep down you just wanted to scream and run away. In the crowd, you met Dr Gaul’s gaze who had also noticed, watching you with careful attention, as if she was waiting to judge the way you’d react.
So of course, you smiled. At her. At everyone.
You followed the same path as he did, stopping by the man who had attempted to speak to him so that he could speak to you instead and maybe ease off his vexation at being ignored by your husband. As hard as it may be to keep going once the facade of perfection crumpled, it was necessary - now even more than before - to make sure all his allies continued supporting him.
Once he seemed satisfied by the small talk you shared, you kept moving, trying to seem as relaxed and detached as you could, until you had the opportunity to slip inside the office, mostly unnoticed by the crowd still mingling in the lobby.
“Coriolanus, I…” You started but stopped yourself when you noticed all the files scattered on the ground. Your husband was leaning over his desk, his back turned to you and you could see him breathing deeply and rapidly, his shoulders moving up and down with tension.
Suddenly, he threw the remaining of what was on his desk down, with one long motion. More files flew up in the air before landing on the ground, a glass container of pens and pencils broke on the wooden floor and shattered to pieces, flying off in every direction like a tiny bomb explosion. His desk light also tumbled to the floor, making a noise you were sure others had heard too.
You had the instinct to take a step back, your hand finding the knob again in order to retreat far away from his wrath... But, when he buried his face in his hands, he suddenly felt a lot less threatening and a lot more vulnerable, making you decide to stay.
“You might have lost this time but maybe it’ll work out next time.” You told him, softly. You wanted to comfort him, as had everyone else already, but the way he dropped his hands and looked at you with a dark glare made you question your decision.
“Always so positive.”He stated, bitterly, as if he was disgusted by your hopefulness. It wasn’t often that you got to see him without a charming smile on his face and a confident posture, in fact, it was the very first time you had been able to read him so easily, his emotions on display exactly as he was feeling them.
“It’s just one set back, for now they think you are too young, too good at your job, but maybe you’ll be elected next time. Maybe it’ll be in ten years. Maybe in thirty. But you will be president.” He shook his head, a cynical smirk on his lips.
“What makes you so sure ?”
“… Because Snow lands on top.”
His eyes darkened and he launched himself at you, crossing the path between the two of you in rapid strides so that he could capture your lips in a ferocious kiss. It left you breathless for a moment, the way his mouth was covering yours with feverish kisses, his arms around your waist to pull your body against his.
It was your second real kiss. Only the second one since you considered that your marriage had been sealed not with a kiss but with a signature at the bottom of a contract.
You pressed your forehead to his, trying to create some distance between you so that you could catch your breath and attempt to have a coherent thought about what was happening but he didn’t let you, giving you one last consuming kiss before his fingers tangled with your ponytail and he pulled, hard enough to force you to your knees in front of him.
You kneeled, looking up with expectant eyes. It was his way of showing you what he needed. He wanted to be revered, to get rebels to bend the knee in front of him, to be worshiped and relived from the anger and frustration he always locked up inside himself, with no way of letting them out.
You reached for his pants, swiftly undoing them with your eyes never leaving his pale blue ones, staring at you with a silent wrath still setting his gaze ablaze. He tugged on your hair again, forcing your chin up so that he could touch your face with his other hand, forcing a thumb passed your lips. He attentively watched you as you opened up your mouth to take it in, gently sucking before releasing it with a soft bite.
You saw him smile at your compliance, even though it was ended by a bold gesture. You were the perfect mix of obedient and fiery to make him lose his mind, and you both knew it.
He reached down to the pants you had opened for him, pulling his already hard erection. You resisted the urge to look at it, remembering how big it had felt in your hand and inside you, worried that his size might change your mind about giving him what he wanted. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed to his as you opened your mouth wide, ready to welcoming him there.
His tip glided on your tongue, his length not even entirely filling your mouth when you felt it hit the back of your throat. He shuddered with pleasure, a soft curse leaving his lips, followed by the sound of your name.
You felt a jolt of electricity in your body, a strange pride warming you up at the thought of pleasing him. You ran your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness that was already dripping from him in anticipation of his release. He cursed again and his hand moved to the back of your head, holding you firmly in place as he began thrusting back and forth.
You tried to relax your jaw and breathe through your nose as his hard length slid on your tongue, but when his movements increased in speed and in strength, you felt him reaching deeper down your throat and you couldn’t help but gag, tears welling in your eyes in consequence. But, even though he was still very carefully looking at you, watching the way he was fucking your mouth without mercy, he didn’t stop or slow down, only attempting to have an even firmer grip on you.
Another curse word fell from his lips, betraying how close he was to finding relief but, instead of shooting his load on your tongue as you were expecting him to, he rapidly pulled himself out of your mouth, heavily panting in front of you.
You used this opportunity to catch your own breath and wipe the mascara stains under your eyes, feeling the soreness of your lips caused by the unforgiving friction he had created.
“Get up.” He demanded, which made you realize he had let go of your hair. You obeyed without hesitation, even taking a step closer to be in his reach again. He immediately took advantage of the proximity, roughly pulling your dress up above your hips and bringing his hand to your center, pulling your panties aside so that he could run a finger across your soaked folds. A satisfied grin appeared on his face, as he removed his hand and brought his finger to his lips, tasting you with a hungry gaze.
You felt your whole body buzzing with excitement, your eyes following the path of his tongue as he licked his lips, seemingly enjoying what he had just tasted. You were so ready for him, you would have begged if he asked you but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t ask for anything, he just took whatever he wanted, the way he wanted… And at this very moment, you couldn’t have been more okay with it.
His hands came to your bare hips and flipped you over so that your back was turned to him. Then, he pushed on your lower back, silently instructing you to bend over for him, which you did.
“Hold on tight.” He advised, his voice low with lust. You looked for something to do so but only found a tall bookshelf in front of you. You still gripped the sides of it, knowing it wouldn’t help you that much but you could already feel him pulling your panties to the side again.
Without a warning, he shoved himself inside you and you welcomed him, your wetness allowing him to slide all the way in with his first thrust. You bite your lip to avoid letting out a moan, very aware of the noise and chatter still coming from right behind his office door.
He completely pulled out before slamming inside you again, burying himself as deep as he could and you loudly gasped. He adjusted your position with a hand on each of your hips, gripping you so hard it was almost painful but you understood why once he repeated his action, thrusting so hard you would have lost your balance if he wasn’t helping stabilize you.
“Come on, let me hear the lovely sounds you can make.” He requested, mercilessly repeating the same movement.
“I can’t… They’ll all hear us…” You panted, a strangled moan catching in your throat when he hit deep, exactly where you needed him to.
“Good, I want them to know I’m fucking my wife.” He breathed, clearly enjoying himself too. “Show them you are mine.”
You felt dizzy at his words. Or maybe it was from the intense pleasure building up at your core. A few more of his rough thrusts and you came undone, loudly expressing your bliss as he released himself deep inside you. You both stayed connected for a moment to catch your breath until he pulled out, adjusting your panties and pulling your dress back down before taking care of putting his spent erection away.
You turned around to face him, meeting his gaze and noticing how his eyes had softened, like they had been drained of all the emotions he kept hidden behind them at all times, a clean slate to endure the rest of the evening.
To your surprise, he leaned over to kiss you. Not with hunger this time but with a tenderness you didn’t expect, like he was grateful you had been there for him.
“Was I too rough with you ?” He asked you, in a whisper, almost as if he was ashamed to say it out loud.
“Yes.” You nodded, appreciating the concern that immediately appeared on his face but you reassured him with a smile. “And I absolutely loved it.”
He smiled back, looking at you like he was seeing you in a new light. You weren’t strangers anymore and, for the first time, you were both starting to think that your marriage wasn’t such a fatality after all.
Previously in this series:
Next in this series:
#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#tbosas smut#tbosas#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus fanfiction#smutty fanfiction#smut#coryo snow#corio snow#coriolanus imagine#spicy fanfic
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Happy Saturday! If you’re still taking requests for the 2k celebration, could I request Eddie/mall/lingerie? And happy 2k followers, definitely well deserved!
It's the return of perv!best friend!Eddie, y'all. Hold on tight.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, pet names, public sex (no one around tho), barely any foreplay because I'm lazy, friends to lovers
WC: 1.6k
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Shopping with Eddie is like pulling teeth. First, you have to convince him to actually come to the mall with you. Then you have to continually bribe with treats from the food court just to keep him from driving off without you. Today, he’s snacking on a giant cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne’s and slurping on a root beer.
“Remind me why I need to be here again?” he whines as you compare two denim miniskirts that look identical to him, but apparently, you can spot a difference. He takes another bite of pretzel and sighs indignantly.
“Because,” you explain, exasperation evident in your tone, “I need a man’s opinion on what to wear for my date tonight, and you’re the closest thing I have.” You laugh as he playfully shoves you. “And I needed a ride, so…”
“So, basically, you’re just using me for my male gaze and my car, huh?” he asks, running a hand over a neatly folded pile of shirts on display.
“Pretty much.” you chirp, putting both skirts back on the rack. “Ugh, this is hopeless! I’m never gonna find something.” You blow out a big breath, puffing your cheeks. “One more store and then we can go home, I promise.”
Eddie rolls his eyes but dutifully follows behind you, taking the opportunity to check out the way your shorts perfectly hug your ass. He feels a twitch in his pants as your hips sway back and forth, and he wills himself to look away.
Unfortunately, in his pursuit to keep himself from popping a boner in the middle of the Starcourt Mall, his gaze lands on the entrance to a lingerie boutique. The mannequin out in front is adorned with a red lace teddy that leaves nothing to the imagination. His eyes dart back to you, and all he can think about is you wearing it. But not for your date with whatever schmuck you’re going out with tonight; no, Eddie wants you to wear it for him. In his bed, straddling his waist, grinding on his–
“Shit,” he mutters. He thinks his voice is low enough to keep you from hearing, but he cringes as you swivel around to see what the problem is, catching him trying to discreetly adjust himself over his jeans.
“You okay–oh,” you giggle, taking notice of his predicament. “Careful, Casanova; y’might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.” You put your forearm on his shoulder and rest your chin on top of it, making him tense up even more. “Who are you picturing in that? Chrissy Cunningham? Tammy Thompson?” Before he can answer, you press on. “Ooh, or maybe a supermodel, like Cindy Crawford or Iman? C’mon, who is it?”
“What if I was picturing you?” Eddie tries to play off his words teasingly, but the raw lust blowing out his pupils gives him away.
Biting your lower lip, you can taste the gloss you’d applied earlier. Every time Eddie jokes with you like this, pretending he wants you, it kills you inside. “Do you think I should try it on?” You look at him innocently, batting your eyelashes as you call his bluff. “Y’know, for Kyle tonight?”
At the mention of your date’s name, Eddie shrugs your arm off of him. “No,” he growls, hooking a ringed finger through your belt loop, “want you to try it on for me.” There’s no hiding his hardness now, and you can feel his heart beating faster as he draws closer to you. He swallows thickly, waiting for your response.
You’re too stunned to speak. Eddie has always been a flirt, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, but he’s your best friend. There’s no way he seriously wants to see you in lingerie, right?
“O-Okay,” you manage, turning towards the store. Eddie intertwines his pinky with yours as though ensuring he won’t lose sight of you. You find the teddy in your size and bring it into the dressing room. To Eddie’s dismay, you yank the velvet curtain closed. He tilts his head slightly, trying to find a gap wide enough to get a glimpse of you changing. He can just imagine you shimmying out of your clothes and into the sheer lingerie.
Fuck it.
Careful not to expose you to a customer passing by, Eddie slips into the room, resting his hands on your waist as you examine yourself in the mirror. The lace clings to your body, hugging your curves in all the right ways. You can feel his hard length pressed up against the back of your naked thigh.
“Eddie,” you breathe out, trying to ignore the fluttering below your belly, “what are you doing?”
“Tell me something, princess,” he says, purposefully ignoring your question, “I pictured you putting this on, but who did you picture taking it off?” He waits for what seems like an eternity, silently praying that Kyle’s name doesn’t pass through your lips.
You turn to face him, letting his strong hands fall below the curve of your ass. “You, Eddie. Always you.” As soon as you give your answer, Eddie’s mouth crashes onto yours. He brings one palm to cup your cheek while he kisses you hungrily, moaning lightly with each flicker of his tongue against yours. He guides you to the wall, palming your breasts through the minimal covering.
Eddie nudges his knee between your thighs, brushing against your sensitive sex, and you moan involuntarily. “Oh, baby,” he coos, chuckling at your reaction to his touch, “so needy, aren’t we? I bet you’re already soaking wet. Almost pathetic how desperate you are f’me, huh?” You want to fire back with a witty retort about how he was the one who wanted you in lingerie; he barged into the dressing room while you were changing, but you can’t string words together to form a sentence. Instead, you nod dumbly, making him laugh again. “Don’t worry; I’ll tell you a little secret.” He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about your sexy little body in one of these. Not even the first time today, actually.”
With that, your fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it as deftly as you can, and tug his pants and boxers down his thighs. His throbbing cock thwacks against his torso, leaving a pre-cum stain on his shirt. He hisses at the sudden relief, using his own fluids as lube to pump himself. You start to get onto your knees, but he stops you.
“If you put your mouth on me, ‘m never gonna last,” he warns with a smirk. “That’ll be for next time, yeah?” The promise of a next time excites you even more, and you allow him to hoist you up against the wall, pushing aside the lace as he runs his cock along your slick folds. “Y’ready?” His eyes are wide; though he wants nothing more than to be inside you, but only if you want to. When you nod, his smile exposes his soft dimples. “Thas’ my girl.”
My girl my girl my girl. The words swirl through your brain as Eddie pushes his mushroom tip into you. The stretch is a mixture of pleasure and pain, melting into only the former as he slowly ruts up into you, allowing you to take a bit more of him each time.
Eddie’s never had sex this good before. You dig your fingernails into his back as your pussy clenches around him; he feels himself growing even harder inside you. He grabs the plush of your ass as he quickens his pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.
“Goddamn,” he groans, nearly whimpering as you tug on his hair. “Your body was meant for me, baby. Takin’ me so well, like you were made for my cock.”
“I was m-made for you,” you echo, feeling your body tremble with delight. “Eddie, Eddie, oh, fuck, Eddie!” You lean your head back, exposing your throat and giving him the perfect angle to suck a bruise just above your collarbone.
Eddie chants your name, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he leaves more hickeys. “Can’t hold back much longer,” he confesses, trailing his tongue over the fresh set of love bites, but he keeps the same rhythm that’s driving you wild. “Wanna get my princess off before I do, though.”
“K-Keep going until you c-cum, please,” you beg him, “just like that.” You bring your middle finger down to your clit, rubbing deliberate circles until you feel your orgasm wash over you. “Yes, Eddie. I’m cumming, cumming for you…feel s’good.”
Bucking his hips harder and chasing his release, Eddie is a panting mess. “Shit–gonna cum, gonna cum in-inside you, fuck.” His hot seed coats your walls as he cries out your name one last time. He gently pulls out of you, leaving cum dripping down your leg while you struggle to regain your balance.
“Looks like we ruined it,” he offers, motioning to the lingerie. There’s tears along the crotch where he roughly moved the fabric, and the mixture of your releases is starting to leave a stain. He tears off the price tag and crumples it, tossing it to the floor. “Put your clothes on over it, hmm? It’ll be our little secret.” He pauses, giving you a mischievous smirk. “Unless you wanna tell Kyle tonight?”
You shake your head. “No. No Kyle. Only you.” Honestly, you’d forgotten all about your date until Eddie just reminded you. “Gonna cancel so we can do…that again.” And hopefully again and again and again.
Eddie throws his arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, “now that I’ve got you, we’re not stopping until that little number is completely destroyed.”
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#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#fanfic#bug's 2k celebration
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++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 — 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆
[summary] Yuji knows that he could never have a normal, healthy relationship with you, not with Sukuna inhabiting his body and his line of work, and he accepts that. He’s content observing you from the sidelines, watching as you go about living your life, none the wiser of the spectator watching from the shadows. VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST.
[cws] yandere -> yuji. fem reader. stalking. voyeurism -> peeping tom. masturbation. reader is mentioned to be a virgin but doesn’t lose it. blood/tending to a wound -> yuji was hurt by a curse.
[an] this was originally for the valentines event i mentioned, but that won’t be out on time so im just gonna post as i finish these up!
Yuji is content with watching you from afar.
He’s not delusional enough to think that the two of you could ever work out—perhaps in another world. One without curses, one where he’s not putting his life on the line every day to protect people that are none the wiser of the monsters that lurk, one where there’s not one of those same monsters living inside him.
Sukuna is a liability, and Yuji loves you too much to put you in a position where you could possibly be harmed. He has good enough control over the curse, but there’s still a chance, a tiny, minuscule chance that things could go wrong, and he just wasn’t willing to take that chance.
So, he kept his distance.
Or tried to.
At first he tried to forget you even existed. To avoid seeing you in the morning on the commute to work, he took a later train, resigning himself to having to run a few blocks to keep from being late. That had worked, for a bit, but then you had found another job, one that required you to come in a bit later, and the both of you had wound up on the same train once again.
He turned to ignoring you - he didn’t so much as turn to look in your direction when you stepped through the train’s doors, acting as if you were some inconsequential thing, and that worked, too, for a bit. But it seemed as if everyone was suddenly going to work a bit later than usual, bodies filling all the seats until eventually the only available one was the one adjacent to him.
He could have still chosen to ignore you, but then you had spoken to him, a simple ‘Crowded today, huh?’ that was more rhetorical than anything, but the only thing Yuji was capable of controlling was Sukuna, not his desires, and he had answered you with a love-stricken smile.
‘It is, isn’t it?’
And it went from there.
He went from pretending you didn’t exist to anxiously waiting for the moment he’d get to see you in the morning. He’d greet you with a smile and a grandiose gesture to the empty seat beside him, and you’d sit down with a sweet ‘thank you’ and an even sweeter smile.
Your conversations went from common pleasantries to something deeper, something more…intimate. Because what other word could he use to describe the way you vented your grievances about work, friends, and family to him? You were allowing him to see a glimpse into your life - a private, special thing that he hoped many weren’t privy to - but he soon learned that a glimpse couldn’t sate him.
Yuji found that the forty-five-minute commute wasn’t enough—how could it be? Twenty-four hours in a day, and he was supposed to make do with not even one? That was wholly unfair! He had already given up so much - the possibility of a romantic relationship with you for your safety-, he deserved a few more moments with you, didn’t he?
But Yuji knew that any more time spent with you would lead to him abandoning the boundary he had set for himself…but as Gojo had taught him, there’s always a loophole to be found.
~
You like to collect trinkets.
Anything that catches your eye and you’re toting it up to the register - it’s a problem. Cute, but a problem. Your mother agrees.
“Yes, mom, I know I just bought a set of pens last week.” You groan, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you attempt to organize the multitude of things on your desk. Pens, pencils, stress balls, notebooks, stuffed animals, vinyl figurines. “But these were themed after one of the shows I watch…yeah, that’s the one! You remembered!” You laugh through a smile. “It’s not an obsession. It’s a hobby!”
Yuji shifts in his spot where he’s seated across from your place and looking into your baywindow, one earphone in his ear, the other carefully placed in the drawer of the desk you’re currently standing at. Your voice is filtering in through the earphone, and he thanks the advancement of technology that’s allowed him to effortlessly be able to listen in on your conversation instead of having to rely on reading your lips...although he wouldn’t have minded that too much.
Your lips look inviting; soft, plump and coated in a shiny gloss. You have a habit of sinking your teeth into your bottom lip when you laugh, something he finds insanely attractive, and you do it now, laughing at something your mother has said. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, nose scrunching up just a tad, and Yuji finds himself struggling to suck in air as he watches you.
“I’m laughing because you’re absolutely ridiculous. I’m not letting you set me up on a blind date, mom.” His teeth gnash together, a frown quickly overtaking his features. Date? “I’m more than capable of finding a boyfriend on my own, thank you very much.” His pulse, which had quickened to a mildly alarming level, slowly goes back to normal as you shoot down the suggestion. Good girl. You didn’t need a boyfriend - not if it couldn’t be him.
Your mother meant well, he’s sure. She likely just wanted her daughter to have someone to keep her company, to give her a shoulder to cry or lean on whenever she needed it, to have someone in the city to look out for her. While Yuji couldn’t be your shoulder to lean on, nor keep you company past a short train ride, he was looking out for you. The world was dangerous, people were murdered left and right. Curses killed indiscriminately; men, women, children, the elderly, it didn’t matter to them. They killed as easily as they breathed, and if you didn’t have him watching over you, it was possible that you’d meet that same fate.
“God, mom, that is none of your business!” You grip your phone in one hand, your eyebrows pulling together as your mouth turns down. “So what if I am? It’s a social construct anyways! It’s not that big a deal—no, I’m not waiting for marriage...I’m not into women, either!”
Yuji lets out a shaky breath. You’re a virgin. He’s never been one to harp on a person’s sexual history, or lack thereof, it didn’t make any difference to him, all he cared about was getting a resounding yes before he got down to business, but the thought of you being untouched sent a swirl of something hot, electric, and exhilarating down to his gut.
His body warmed further in the already humid air, cock fattening up against his thigh, and he clears his throat as he tries to keep his thoughts clean.
“I’m hanging up the phone now, mom. Love you lots, bye—oh! And no dates. If I find some man at my door with roses and chocolates like the last time then I’m going to phone the police and get him put on a list, okay? Okay!” You quickly end the call, your phone flying through the air before it lands on your couch, and cover your face with your hands as you let out a muted scream.
Yuji chuckles.
~
He shouldn’t be here, he knows that, but he had just gotten through with a mission not even two blocks from your place and figured he could just check in on you. He hadn’t seen you this morning, his work taking him to the other side of Tokyo, and it wouldn’t be exaggerating to say he was going through a bit of a withdrawal.
I’ll just look in to make sure she’s alright, he tells himself. Just a quick peek to confirm that you were in your home for the night and okay. He’d be two minutes tops...
That’s what he had said, so how had he ended up like this? Cock in hand and panting as he watched your fingers furiously flick back and forth over your clit. You were sprawled on your couch and facing the window, panties hooked around one ankle and legs spread. Your nightgown, something too thin to offer you any real warmth, was pushed up under your chin, the hand that wasn’t desperately rubbing at your cunt pinching at hard nipples.
This is the sight he had been met with when he turned onto your street, and he only had a second to be angry at the fact that anyone could have walked by and saw you like this, before the need to touch himself outweighed the want to reprimand you. It was late, well into the hours of the night where the streets were usually deserted, so he figured he couldn’t place too much blame on you, especially when this all worked to his benefit.
The notion that this was wrong, so incredibly wrong, floated around in his head for a bit, but it was squeezed and siphoned out with the dollops of pre-cum that landed on the steps leading up to your place.
Blood fills his tastebuds as his teeth sink into his lip in an effort to keep quiet. His nostrils flare as he breathes hard through his nose, hand practically a blur as it flies up and down the length of his cock, eyes trained on the way you rub at your clit in a circular motion. Around and around, up and down, the both of you quickly work yourselves up, and Yuji grunts, hips jerking up into his hand, long lashes fluttering when he sees your hips raise up and your thighs snap shut around your hand.
He finishes soon after, balls tightening and veins in his neck and on the back of his hand protruding as ropes of cum dirty his fingers. He squeezes as he nears his tip, making sure to milk out every last drop, and he huffs and pants as he lets his lip go free. He harshly swallows, knees giving out as he plops himself down onto your stoop, jittery hands working to stuff his now soft cock back into his pants and boxers.
He looks down at his hand and groans at the sight, his head tipping back, only for a loud thump to sound as it knocks against the wood of your door. Yuji curses, quickly scrambling up to his feet as he draws his hood over his head and hurries down the street.
~
A groan slips out of Yuji’s mouth as his weary body crashes down into the seat of the train. The car is empty, expected due to how late it is -nearing midnight-, and he’s thankful for it as he lifts the hem of his sweater up with a grimace, revealing a slash right above his belly button, the dark blood matted in with the hair of his happy trail.
It’s not life threatening, but fuck does it hurt. A curse had turned out to be a higher grade than the report had said, and Yuji had gone in a bit too hot, resulting in a few too many scrapes and cuts, but no broken bones, thankfully.
The bag on his back is pulled off, and he undoes the zipper and rifles through it, hand closing around a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a few gauzes. He stuffs the hem of his sweater in his mouth and bites down, simultaneously twisting off the cap to the bottle, and he counts to three in his head before pouring the contents on the cut, a muffled curse sounding as his muscles tense and flex.
The train slows to a stop as it comes to a station, and Yuji is too focused on wrapping the gauze around his midsection to hear the sound of heels clicking against the train floor.
“Ngh, shit.” He pulls the gauze tight as he rips it with his teeth, quickly tying the two ends together in a small knot after. It’s a half-assed job, but it’ll do until he makes it home where he has more suppl—
“Yuji?”
His head snaps up at the familiar voice, and two sets of wide eyes clash as the both of you fall silent. Your gaze falls to the dressings on his stomach, which are already tinged red with his blood, and you gasp before you’re quickly rushing over.
“What happened?”
“Why are you out so late?”
You both talk over each other, but Yuji repeats his a bit louder, because his question is clearly more important at the moment. Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out this late? What were you doing? Where were you? Why are you so dressed up?
“I’m coming from a friend’s housewarming party, it ran a bit late, too late if you ask me. I was ready to go hours ag—wait, that doesn’t matter! You’re bleeding, Yuji. What happened?” You sit in the seat beside him and turn your body, your knees brushing against his, and he suddenly finds it a bit harder to breathe. “Oh my God, you’re pale. You need to go to the hospital.” Your hand reaches out to touch his forehead, your fingers pushing away the strands plastered to his damp forehead to touch the cool skin directly.
“No... no hospital, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” He says, and compared to all the other injuries he’s gotten, this could be passed off as a scratch. You give him a disbelieving look.
“It could get infected.”
Your concern for him makes his chest swell with nothing short of love, and he reaches a hand out to gingerly rest it on your knee, the tips of his ears heating when he realizes this is the first time he’s touched you. “I’ll be fine, okay? It just looks bad, but it’s only superficial.”
You frown, teeth worrying at your bottom lip, and the action nearly puts Yuji in a trance. He wants to bite your lip. Not hard enough to seriously hurt you, but enough to pull one of those cute little gasps forth and paint a look of surprise on your face. He’d kiss it better afterwards, of course.
“…okay.” You relent, still looking as if you want to argue. “But at least tell me what happened? Were you attacked?” You take a cautious glance around, as if whatever did this to him is lurking nearby and not dead.
“Yeah,” he nods, and your eyes widen. “Some asshole tried to rob me. Guess he didn’t like that I left my wallet at home.” He gives a chuckle that he hopes puts you at ease.
“Oh my God, Yuji, we have to call the police! He could have killed you!” Guess not. You rifle through the purse in your lap to retrieve your phone, and before you can punch in the number and make this situation more complicated than he wants to deal with right now, he’s slipping your phone from your hand and dropping it back into your bag.
“I’m fine, really.”
“You’re bleeding.” You pointedly look to his stomach, and Yuji smooths his sweater back down, jaw clenching as he fights back a wince when he agitates the wound. “I saw that!”
The train comes to a slow stop, his stop, and he gives you a sheepish smile before standing to his feet. “Really, thanks for worrying, but it’s nothing serious. I’ll be fi—” His words get caught in his throat when you stand up beside him and curl your arms around one of his, a determined look plastered on your face as you keep him rooted in his spot.
“Since you’re refusing to go to a hospital, then you’ll come back to mine and let me patch you up properly - and if you get any worse, I will be calling an ambulance, got it?” He turns his head to the side in order to hide a dopey grin into his shoulder.
“...got it.”
~
“Luckily, it’s not deep.” You say from where you’re kneeled on the floor, Yuji laid down on the couch cushions in front of you. His shirt is discarded, neatly folded and placed on your coffee table, and your brows are furrowed in concentration as you gently dab at the wound on his stomach.
The bleeding has slowed considerably, and while it’s still incredibly sore, the stabbing pain from before has gradually subsided as well. It’s not deep enough to need stitches, which is the same conclusion you come to after yet another careful observation.
“Told ya I was fine.”
“I would hardly call this fine, Yuji.” Your eyes slide over to meet his, and the hairs on his arms raise as he basks in the sound of you saying his name. Oh. He wants you to keep saying it, in different connotations even - he wants to hear you cry it out while his face is buried between your thighs, wants to hear it choked on a gasp when he slides in for the first time, wants to hear it between sobs as he finds your sweet spot, wants to hear it screamed out when he’s made you cream all over his cock, he never wants to stop hearing it.
Won’t you say it for him again?
“I really do think you should go to the police, Yuji…if not for yourself, then for the next person at least. What if they hurt someone else?” You say as you smooth the last butterfly stitch into place. “You’re not… you’re not in trouble or anything, right?”
“Trouble?” He frowns, and when he takes in the cautious look on your face, he realizes what you mean. “No! I’m not! I haven’t...” He can see you retreating, hands curling in your lap as you lean back from him, and he quickly sits up, teeth gritting as he does. “Hey, I’ll go to the station in the morning, okay? I just.. my uncle is a cop, and I know he’s gonna go on some crazy manhunt once he finds out what happened.”
The lie comes out smooth, and Yuji would feel bad if you didn’t immediately relax after hearing his words. You’re so gullible, he thinks to himself. Would you have believed the same lie if someone else had said it? Or did you believe it because he, Yuji, had been the one saying it? Did you trust him that much?
“That’s a good thing. The person who did that should be arrested.” You frown again as you look at his stomach. “Are you sure you’re okay? I think it looks agitated—”
“Hey,” his hands move to cup your cheeks, an action that’s far too intimate for two people who haven’t talked outside of a train ride to work...but you had invited him here, hadn’t you? You had clung to him on the walk over, your arms wrapped around one of his as you questioned him over and over again on whether he was growing dizzy, nauseous, tired.
You had guided him to sit on your couch and helped him take his shirt off — you had touched him with those hands that could do no wrong, tended to him so tenderly, fueled the fantasies playing on repeat in his head.
“Yuji?” You call, breath fanning over his lips, and he harshly swallows, adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His eyes flit around your face, unable to focus on one particular thing; eyes, nose, lips, brows, the little hairs at your temples, the dark freckle-like spots underneath your eyes, the length and curl of your lashes, the shape of your hairline, he finds himself taking it all in, greedily.
He leans in just, giving you ample opportunity to move away or tell him no, but you only wet your lips, lashes fluttering and breath quickening, and he doesn’t waste another second before he’s leaning in.
Your lips meet and his chest tightens, hands slightly trembling as he basks in the feeling of you, which is all he can do, all thoughts effectively cleared from his head. Your lips move hesitantly against his, slow, unsure, but he has no problem taking the lead.
One hand moves to clutch at the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip and pulling forth a soft sound. He takes the opportunity to delve inside, tongue sliding alongside your own as he groans at the taste of you.
Heaven.
The two of you only part to suck in a shuddering breath and then you’re back on each other, your hands hovering over his chest, hesitating. Yuji kisses the corner of your mouth and gently grabs your wrist, guiding your hands to his chest. “Touch me.”
You jerkily nod, hands roaming his chest, prodding and squeezing and rubbing. Your thumbs skim over his nipples, and he hisses through clenched teeth as they immediately harden. Your eyes dart up to him, wide and twinkling, and you do it again. “Shit,” he grunts.
“Can I…?” You trail off with a whisper, and he mindlessly nods, cock throbbing in his pants as he spreads his legs wider to give you more room. Your head leans forward, and he intently watches as a pink tongue peeks out from between swollen lips to flatten over one of his nipples.
His dick jumps in his pants, and he sinks his teeth into his tongue to stave off the overwhelming urge to come in his pants. Your tongue flicks over the bud, and blood fills his tastebuds before he’s pulling you up to straddle his lap, tip leaking drool at the dejected look on your face.
“Sorry, sweetie,” he kisses at the corner of your mouth, hands moving to palm at your own chest to return the favor. “But I’m not ready to come yet.” He squeezes, jiggles, tests the weight of your breast in his palms, pinches at your nipples through the thin fabric, all the while his hips are rocking up into yours, throbbing cock knocking into your clothed sex. He can feel the heat of your cunt - sweltering, inviting, and he wants to dip his cock in and never pull it out, but not yet, not now.
Your back meets the cushion, your head bouncing off the seat from the suddenness of it all, and one of Yuji’s knees plants itself on the couch as his foot gains purchase on the floor. He makes quick work of your pants and underwear, mouth running dry at the sight of your wet pussy.
Fuck.
He wants to eat you out - bury his head between your thighs and lap up your slick until the sun rises, but he knows the tip of his cock is turning purple even without looking at it, and while he usually has no problem putting his own needs aside when it comes to you, he feels like being a bit selfish tonight.
Your eyes are wide as he pops the button on his pants, your blown pupils tracking the movements of his hand as it tugs his cock free before tucking the elastic of his boxers under round, full balls. You gasp, a low sound that makes his cock jump, and you marvel at the sight. So cute. He catches a bead of pre-cum with his finger and brings it to his mouth without thinking, pink tongue swiping out to lick it up before his hand is returning to his cock.
He shuffles closer, a shuddering breath leaving him as he slaps it against your folds. “Yuji,” you whisper out, and he hums, eyes focused on the way the shine of your slick transfers over to him as he slides himself back and forth against you.
Fuuuck.
Yuji doesn’t miss the way you tense as his cockhead parts your folds, drool pooling in his mouth as he watches the way your hole —untouched, un-stretched, un-fucked— clenches around nothing.
“I won’t ... I won’t put it in.” He assures. While you hadn’t divulged your lack of experience, Yuji was still well aware of it, and he doesn’t think he could live with himself knowing that your first time together was when he had a gaping wound on his stomach limiting his movements. You deserved his best, and he’d give it to you, in time, but this would do for now. “Just hold yourself open for me. Can you do that?”
You meekly nod, but your hands fumble as they move down between your thighs. Yuji licks his lips and smiles, his hands moving to cover yours as he places them where he wants them. “Good - just like that.” Your fingers keep your lips spread, your hole and clit exposed, and he licks his lips again, a groan bubbling up out of his throat as he slots his cock right up against you. You gasp, body jumping, and he slowly cants his hips forward, length sliding up. His tip nudges against your clit, and your eyebrows furrow as your thighs move to close, but his hands keep them pinned open. “You okay?”
“It’s—oh.” You gasp again when he pulls his hips back, cock heavy against your cunt as it easily glides thanks to the ample amount of slick and pre-cum mixing together. The fat tip catches on your hole, and he has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from popping it in and fucking it in deep. “Yuji.”
Your eyes are locked onto his face, lips parted in an ‘o’ and eyebrows pulled together - he nearly comes at the sight and ends this all too early. “Look, sweetheart,” he rasps, his eyes moving down to where you’ve got his cock nice and wet, and he knows you’ve followed his gaze when he hears your sharp intake of breath and sees your clit twitch. “There you go. Watch what I do to you.”
He keeps your thighs spread wide as he rocks into you, hips rolling and tip drooling as he goes through the motions of how he will fuck you. He’ll go slow at first, like how he is now, give you time to get adjusted to the feeling of a cock filling you up and stretching you wide. He wants you to feel every inch of him, every vein and curve, wants you to feel him dragging along your walls and brushing against that secret little spot hidden away inside of you.
Then he’d go a bit faster, give you a taste of what it felt like to really be fucked, show you what you had to look forward to for the rest of your life, because there was no way he could go back to how it was before, not after you invited him into your home and kissed him and let him between these soft, sweet thighs.
Oh no, you were his now.
Completely.
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These will be updated here and there. It’s likely that there’s some I won’t stick to when it comes to requests and even story ideas where they won’t fit.
He hates pickles. Anything that is green and smells that bad does not belong in the food section. But he loves pickled pigs feet.
He likes sex but can easily live without it.
He hasn’t been a virgin since his early teens (thanks to Merle and a handful of drug money)
It would take some serious, repeated encouragement and assurance (and a lot of time) before he’s comfortable having sex.
He is the type of guy that goes one step at a time, testing the waters. Making out, touching you, letting you touch him (slowly because his brain has been conditioned to flinch away). Everything would be through the clothes and then progress. Slow and steady wins the race.
He’s a switch. Sometimes, he wants all the say (so to speak) in the bedroom, watching you whimper and beg. Sometimes he just physically needs to give up control to balance the chaos.
Rarely, when he’s extremely needy, he wants you to tell him he’s a “good boy” and praise him for how incredible he makes you feel. He’d never ask for it but when you call him that on accident, his reaction was quite telling.
He can easily go from gentle to rough. He would never want to hurt you. Squeezing your throat, slapping your ass, teasing your breasts, or leaving love marks with his teeth absolutely do not count as hurting you.
Consent is a huge deal to him.
He’s always been quiet during anything sexual; On the rare occasions he talks, it’s reassurances and quiet, gentle praise. Otherwise, grunts and whimpers and low growls are what you get until he’s about to orgasm.
However, sometimes he’s just so wound up, so needy for you, that he can’t help but moan loudly or call your name.
He always tells you he’s close to or has already started cumming. No real rhyme or reason. Maybe just his way of letting you know that you took him there.
He has a genuine dislike of cats. He doesn’t hate them by any means but if he had to pick an animal that was secretly plotting world domination, it’d be cats.
He prefers boxer briefs.
The only name brand clothing he ever owned was underwear because his junk deserves only the best.
He’s superstitious, even if he pretends not to be.
He doesn’t like giving his significant other pet names beyond “sunshine,” “pipsqueak”, or “woman.” Things that you find endearing regardless. On rare occasions, he’ll use “doll” or “darlin’.”
He secretly adores when you call him “baby” or “sweetheart.” Pretty much any endearment that labels him as yours.
He rarely (but it does happen) says “I love you.” He’s more of an actions guy and if you say it first, he’ll usually only say “me too” or rub his knuckles over your jaw.
He can’t sleep if his feet are hot.
Spiders freak him out.
He hates showers, not because he just doesn’t like them. Being in a space with scars on display makes him feel vulnerable. The water touching the scars forces him to relive when he received them.
Contrary to popular belief, he does keep specific areas of his body acceptably clean, using the bathroom sink or river/lake/creek when he’s in the forest.
The dirt and grime that coat his skin is a grounding reminder of who he is, so he doesn’t completely lose himself in that dystopian world.
He has never hunted for sport, only for survival. He respects nature and what it provides.
He loves to read. His favorite book is The Outsiders.
He doesn't/wouldn't understand why his girl can't talk to him instead of a stranger. He would need some mental health education as the urging of Carol or Michonne before even remotely understanding. He wants to be supportive, first and foremost.
He fights tooth and nail to avoid getting "his head shrunk" but in the end, if it meant not losing his girl, he'd give in.
He is a horrible patient for physical ailments and even worse for mental ones.
#murda writes#daryl dixon#daryl dixon headcanon#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon walking dead#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon twd#daryl humor#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#twd daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you
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Slightly!Yandere Shinichiro general headcannons
Note: I went off-track a little with cute moments 😭
- SIMP. You’ve probably heard it 100 times, so let me be the 101st, he is a SIMP.
- Has your picture as his lock screen and Home Screen, has a polaroid of you two in the back of his CLEAR phone case, another polaroid in his wallet and a framed picture of the two of you in his shop.
- Looks at you with love-hearts in his eyes whenever you’re talking. It could be about the economical state of the world and he’d still listen intently just because you’re the one saying it.
- Everyone says he doesn’t have any skills with girls, which is true, but he is genuine and that’s already better than the majority of men.
- Will hug and kiss you in front of his friends because he literally does not care what they think. They’ll all probably groan and tell him it’s gross.
- Has accidentally blown a puff of smoke in your face from a cigarette and when you started to cough he panicked. Got you a cute teddy bear to say sorry though.
- Has your skincare and makeup routine memorized, and products. This man knows your shade and the brand you use for foundation and concealer. Always stocks it up for you when he sees you’re running low. Loves to watch you apply skincare and makeup and will get flustered if you ask him to put it on for you.
- Is always so gentle with you. He hasn’t hurt you, and won’t ever. Not even accidentally. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him!
- Benkei and Takeomi give him bad girl advice. Wakasa knows better but he’s never around when the other two give Shinichiro advice… When he tries it with you, he gets genuinely shocked when you tell him you don’t like whatever he tried.
- One time, he asked you if you were on your period because you were mad at him, and when you asked him why the hell he would ask that, he replied “Takeomi told me that you’d think I was attentive and knowledgeable about women’s hormones if I asked you!!”
- They’re probably the reason he doesn’t get girls tbh
- But he has you, he doesn’t need anyone else.
- He does get jealous super easily. He doesn’t even know how he pulled you in the first place, but he WON’T lose you.
- Has and will use his connections from the Black Dragons to beat anyone who tries to get with you. He’s not going to get his hands dirty (probably because he doesn’t know how to) if he has people to do it for him.
- Celebrates every little milestone in your relationship. Expects you to remember as well. Like, what do you mean you forgot this is the anniversary of the first time he fed you?!
- Dreams of a nice, domestic life with you in the future whenever he sees you with Emma and Mikey. He wants 4 kids and a nice house by his grandpa’s dojo.
- Mikey and Emma LOVE you. You’re their big sister now! Especially Emma. It’s hard for her in an all male household, so you’re her rock when it comes to things her brothers and grandpa don’t understand.
- Emma loves to do girl things with you, like face-masks, doing nails and gossiping about boys you guys like. Although it’s only really Emma who talks about boys she likes, since she’ll get grossed out if you talk about Shinichiro in a romantic manner. That’s her stupid, goofy older brother after all..
- Mikey is constantly asking you if Shinichiro is paying you to pretend to be his girlfriend because you’re wayyyyy out of his league! Shinichiro is a bland 4 and you’re a 10!!
- Mikey and Emma definitely crash your guys’ dates sometimes. Especially if you guys are going on a picnic or to the mall.
- Grandpa Sano likes you as well, you’re keeping Shinichiro from getting into trouble and being a goof. Although, most of that is just how he is.
- Mikey definitely introduces you to Draken as his big sister. And Draken probably sees you as his big sister too, you guys probably do have cute moments.
- One time, you saw Draken sat on a bench on his own and you took him to the convenience store and got him candy to cheer him up and talk about why he was looking down. Mikey joined you guys half-way through with a bag of dorayaki (no, he did not share).
- All in all, you guys are a cute ass couple and the kids all look up to you two.
#yandere tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers#sano#shinichiro sano#shinichiro x reader#tr shinichiro#shinichiro headcanons#shinchiro x you#slight yandere#shin#emma sano#manjiro sano#ken ryuguji#draken#black dragons#wakasa imaushi#benkei#m4nj1r0s#headcannons#yandere!shinichiro x reader#x you#tr fluff#yandere#shinichiro x y/n
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first date with riize
headcanons about how your first date with the riize members would be like…
shotaro ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ aquarium
shotaro would take you to an aquarium. he thinks it’s super cool how you can see the underwater animals and maybe even discover new facts together. bonus; you can take cool pictures. he is going to turn into your own personal photographer and won’t stop taking pictures of you until you’re 100% satisfied. at the end, he would ask a random person to take a cute picture of the two of you (which he would later on post on all of his social media. he’d also post the pics he took of you cause he’s so proud of them).
eunseok ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ café
eunseok likes it classy so he would invite you to a café. in his free time, he would search for a perfect one, somewhere you’ve never been before, and he also doesn’t want it to be boring so he’s looking for an unique concept. even the most simple things can be the most special and that’s what he wants to convey to you. just because he’s taking you out to a café it doesn’t mean it has to be a boring one, right? he spends hours looking for a cool café because he wants you to experience it with him, he wants you to have the memory of him taking you to such a special place that he searched out only for you.
sungchan ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ day trip
sungchan wants your first date to be unforgettable so he’s taking you on a day trip out of the city. he’s not big on plans so he doesn’t know what exactly you guys will do, but he knows that just exploring a new place, even if it’s without a destination, is enough because he gets to do it with you. during the car drive, sungchan puts on music that the both of you like and you guys would start screaming out your souls to the songs. once you arrive, sungchan will not let you know that he has no idea what he’s doing; you will think he has planned out everything in detail because he’s so good at pretending like it. the day trip ends with you guys planning out your second date; where is our next day trip going to be?
wonbin ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ dinner
just like eunseok, wonbin is a classy guy. he would go for the typical dinner date. he‘d search out a fancy restaurant (with the best food ever) and pick you up, the whole gentleman stuff you’d expect. wonbin is someone who doesn’t necessary needs to talk a lot to enjoy someone’s company, so having dinner is perfect – when you guys eat, you don’t have to talk much. that doesn’t change the fact that wonbin wants to know everything about you though (but he‘s too cool to show it right away so you’d have to be patient with him). and whenever you would eat and not pay attention to wonbin, he’d secretly sneak a look at you with the biggest smile on his face, just admiring you while you eat.
seunghan ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ amusement park
he would take you to an amusement park and he has made up a whole plan on how to get you fall for him. first, he’s going to take it easy and buy you some food. once you’ve warmed up to him, he will take you to the haunted house so he can protect you. lastly, you guys will go to a booth and he will try to win you a big plushie. he will not!! give up until he gets one for you, doesn’t matter if it’s going to take hours. he will make sure you go home with a big fluffy teddy bear which will always remind you of him.
sohee ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ picnic
a picnic date in the park while the sun is shining and the air is fresh. sohee would totally prepare everything, the only thing you would need to do is; show up. when you arrive, you’re shocked because of how well prepared everything is – you are so amazed by the fact that sohee did it all on his own. he even brought uno along so you guys can play it (sohee would lose on purpose sometimes so you’re the final winner). towards the end of the picnic, you’d find yourself laying next to sohee and him singing your favorite song into your ear, making the whole picnic date end in the best way possible.
anton ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ drive-in cinema
anton is similar to wonbin when it comes to the fact that he doesn’t need to talk to someone a lot to enjoy their company, so he would take you to the drive-in cinema. it’s not the normal cinema which makes the date more special, and when you guys sit in the car and watch the movie, anton is barely paying attention to it – he just stares at you (without you noticing it of course) because you’re far more interesting than the movie – than any movie. the night would end with the two of you driving to a hill, sit (or lay, whatever you prefer) down on the car while watching the night sky.
#riize#riize fics#riize imagines#riize drabbles#riize scenarios#riize wonbin#kpop#riize seunghan#riize sohee#riize sungchan#riize headcanons#riize x reader#x reader#riize shotaro#riize anton#riize eunseok#riize fluff#riize oneshots#shotaro x reader#sohee x reader#anton x reader#sungchan x reader#seunghan x reader#eunseok x reader#wonbin x reader
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unveiled
Summary: Unable to keep the charade up, you finally confront Bucky, telling him the whole truth.
Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 39), teasing, dirty talk, or@l sex, fingering, protected séx, pet names, daddy kínk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 4.5K
story masterlist
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: This story will have 4 parts, this is the 3rd part.
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
Avoiding Bucky for two weeks was hard, but fortunately, he didn’t try to push you at all, which made it bearable.
You miss him, though. You always enjoyed his company, and it feels like you are slowly losing a friend. But what’s your alternative?
As much as you try to be polite, William’s friends completely ignore you when you ask them how they are. So you give up quickly, spending time on your phone as you try to ignore them. You can’t go to your room because that would not fit the fake image, so you’re stuck.
You know William is not a bad guy, and he tried to get closer to you a couple of times, but he’s not the type of person you’d see yourself with. Not even as real friends. You’re just too different, and it’s not like either of you wanted to be in this situation.
Bucky has been busy all evening. From what you heard, he’s been working on an important project this week, even at home. But you are happy to see him coming downstairs, probably headed to the kitchen. At least, he’s alive.
“Hi.”
Everyone acknowledges him immediately, and he gives you a warm smile before going to the kitchen, as you thought.
A few minutes later, when he returns, he’s carrying a plate with two sandwiches and a drink in his left hand. William immediately reaches for the glass, and Bucky gives him a pointed look.
“That’s not for you.”
“Come on, you always let me try.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes at his tone. He acts like a kid a lot of times.
“This is for your girlfriend, punk. The one you’ve been ignoring.” You look at him surprised as he hands you the drink. How did he know?
Everyone turns to look at you, but you ignore them.
“Thank you.”
Cherries again... You blush.
“You’re welcome, hopefully you’ll drink it this time.”
For some reason, this is enough to make this whole avoiding him plan of yours go down the drain and before you know what you’re doing, you’re in your room calling your mom and demanding her to stop this nonsense and let you come home. Because they can do it in another way. You can’t pretend to be a couple for years, can you? What about your life? What about what you want? You’ve already done so much for them, and you are sick and tired of lying.
Same goes for William. He must want the same thing as you do.
But she brushes you off, trying to make you see from their point of view. Because this is what your father wanted. And you never felt sicker.
“He wouldn’t give you the opportunity to run anything otherwise, baby. You have to do this... I am sorry.”
“No, you’re not! You’re fucking not! Otherwise, you would have left him. He controls you and me. He’s been doing it your whole marriage, and I am sick of it. I won’t let him treat me like this anymore.”
There is dead silence on the other side of the phone for a couple of seconds, and you have to forcefully bite your lip to keep the sobs down. You can almost taste the blood.
“Please, honey, there’s nothing I can do.”
You cannot take any more of her tone, so gou simply hang up and put your phone on silent just in case.
There’s nowhere you can go. Nothing you can do to escape this if you want an opportunity to do things your way. Your father uses you, and your mom doesn’t have your back.
It’s suffocating you, and it’s also terrifying how alone you can be despite not being theoretically alone.
He deserves better, too. He deserves to know.
That snaps something inside you, and before you can change your mind, you get out of your room, fixing your hair and wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
William’s friends are still downstairs, playing something based on their voices, but you ignore them. You go straight to Bucky’s door and knock desperately.
You still jump when he opens it, and you can spot the worry in his eyes right away.
He was taking a bath, you notice the water droplets running down his face and body. He probably threw his shorts and tank top on quickly, but you don’t care. He needs to know.
“What’s wrong?”
“I gotta tell you something. Right now.”
You get inside his room without waiting for an invitation, and only when you hear the door closing, you turn to look at him.
“They’re lying to you. Everyone is lying to you, including me. And I’m sorry.”
He comes closer, concerned. “What are you lying to me about, huh?”
“It’s not true. None of this is true.”
“What’s not true?” He presses again. You’re finally in his room, you’ve stopped avoiding him, yet you’re still panicking. And all he wants is to make sure you’re okay. “Take it easy. Try to speak slowly, you are running out of air.”
“About William and I… We’re not together for real. It’s all a scam.”
He's speechless for a couple of seconds, frozen on spot, before you watch him start to laugh hysterically.
“I am serious, Bucky. It’s for the merger of the companies.” You continue, thinking he doesn’t believe you. Because why would he? “Your dad wanted to make sure mine won’t back off so they used me. I swear, I can show you-”
“I believe you, I believe you.” He's surprisingly calm as he speaks, as if you didn’t relieve a huge secret. “That’s not why I laughed.”
“I am sorry. I didn’t know why they wanted to keep it away from you, but I-”
“Why did you agree to all of this? What’s in it for you besides the misery of living here?” He asks, so much closer all of a sudden.
“Nothing now.” You sigh, but you don’t care. Even if you have nothing, at least he knows. And sadly, he doesn’t seem surprised by his parents’ actions. “I was supposed to get my dad’s support with a small business. I also wanted to run a charity organization... accepting this was the condition so I can have what I want. It’s stupid, I know. I am twenty-”
“I sensed something was wrong with this whole relationship thing. No couple acts the way you two do, but I thought maybe I was overthinking.” His clothes are fully getting wet now, and you can’t help but stare at his chest. Shit...
“I know.”
“I should have figured out what’s going on.”
His tone seems light, as if you’re not talking about how you all made him believe in a lie for months. You fight the impulse to beg for his forgiveness. You feel like a horrible, horrible human being.
“I am so sorry, Bucky,” you cry. “I should have told you. I am not a good friend, and I am so sorry. But now you know, I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. I didn’t want to, you deserve so much better than all of this.”
“I know you wanted to.” His hand is on your shoulder all of a sudden, and you gasp at the contact. “On my birthday.”
“Yes,” you whisper. “I wanted to tell you a lot of times actually. But I am a coward. William and your parents-”
“You’re not his,” he interrupts you once again, shaking his head as if he can’t believe it. “You’ve never been his.”
You know what he means by his, and you want to correct him and tell him you’re not an object to be someone’s. But you remembered how much you thought about the possibility of Bucky being yours in the past few weeks, so...
“No, I am not.”
“Good.” He grabs you by the back of your head. “I've wanted to kiss ever since I saw you, don’t you know that?”
You gasp. “James-”
“Tell me you want me. Tell me that, and I’m yours. I don’t care about them, I care about you.”
“But I lied to you.”
“You didn’t want to lie to me, though. Analyze the context you are in a little.” He looks drunk as he stares at you, wanting nothing more than to kiss you.
You shake your head. “I can’t do the fun thing with you, okay?”
“Fun thing?”
“I can’t be like Cherry. I can’t stay friends with you after I kiss you.” And you wouldn’t want to even if you could.
He leans in until his mouth reaches your ear. “Who said I wanted that, princess? I told you I am yours.”
“Are you playing a game?”
“Sure,” he says immediately. “I can play any game you want if that makes you want to be mine.”
“Fucking hell,” you moan, feeling so many things at once. He’s seriously giving zero shits about this whole thing, and he’s touching you. Just like you touched him on his birthday. It feels forbidden and wrong, but also perfect. You can have him now. You can kiss him. And you do, bringing his head down so your lips can meet.
You moan quite loudly, but you can’t hold back. Not when he grabs your ass and pulls you closer to him. You hiss when you feel him lifting you in the air so you can wrap our legs around his hips. He’s so hard. So, so hard! And wet all over. You can feel him properly.
He groans when you deepen the kiss, but you’re so into it you could barely hear him.
“Jesus, you taste so good, baby, so good.” He continues to kiss you until you feel like you can’t breathe. You start to move your hips without realizing, chasing the friction because it just feels so good, even with your pants on.
“James, please.”
“Please, what?” He grinds back a little to tease you and you almost cry. So much desire has been bottled inside you for months. “Come on, use your big girl words, baby.”
“I need you. I’m so wet… I need to come.” So much!
“And you want me to make you come?”
You groan. “Obviously!”
“Then ask me to.”
“Come on, James!” You grab his face desperately. “Come on, make me come. Please!”
He smiles widely, and this boyish smirk only makes him look cuter. You want to eat him whole.
“Of course, baby. So polite.”
He doesn’t waste time after your back hits the bed. He starts to undress you quickly, not caring about his sheets getting wet. You help him by lifting your arms and your hips from time to time, but he manages to get everything off in record time.
You can’t believe you’re doing this, to be honest. The reality hits you when he leans in to kiss you, his wet T-shirt making your nipples harden even more. You’re naked in his bed...
“Hey, you’re okay?” His voice is so soft that you can’t help but smile.
“Yes, I’m just... I can’t believe this is real. I haven’t prepared for it.”
“You’re so cute when you’re shy.” He kisses your lips once again. “And when you’re angry.” The trail of kisses is getting lower and lower with every word. “And when you tell me what to do.”
His mouth stops right on your left breast, his hand grabbing the other one.
You moan, losing yourself slowly to the overwhelming sensation, making it hard to focus or think.
“And when you do as I tell you to.” His tongue is everywhere: from your skin to, finally, your nipple, wetting it with his tongue before he properly sucking it.
You jump from the sudden pleasure and grab his hair.
“Feels so good.”
He switches to the other breast as soon as you speak again. “Fuck, I wanted to sleep on these for a long time. I’m depraved, aren’t I? Wanting to fuck my brother’s girl and suck on her tits before passing out on them from exhaustion.”
You moan imagining him sneaking into your room and doing that, and it makes you even hornier. “Fuck, James! I would have let you... would have asked you to make me come in the morning, too.”
You don’t care if you are depraved too. You are in this together. You wanted each other for so long, and now you’re finally getting it.
“Yeah?” He starts to lower his face more after he leaves a few kisses on the valley between your breasts. “What else?”
When you feel him close to your navel, you laugh.
“I’m ticklish, please.”
He melts. Of course he melts and spreads your legs as far as you can go.
“Gonna finally get my mouth on you. I need you to come all over my face...” Based on his tone, it’s like he can’t believe it finally happening.
“Yes, sir.” You tease. “Gonna get you drenched if you want.”
Something snaps inside him, you realize quickly, as he cups your face.
“I am your sir now, princess?”
“Always been,” you gasp. “You’re in your daddification era after all.”
“Shouldn’t that make me your daddy then?”
You freeze a little, unsure what to say because you’d lie if you said you didn’t think about him like that. He’s such a daddy that it hurts. And it’s like he sensed it.
“Fuck, you’re both, okay? You’re both. Please, James. Need your mouth or fingers... anything.”
“Or?” Bucky puffs. “You’re getting both, love.”
You hear laughter coming from downstairs, and you smirk. If only they knew who you actually are with...
Bucky places your legs on his shoulders and back, and you let yourself stay still, waiting for his first move.
His fingers open your lips first, making sure to hold you open before he leans in and gets his tongue at your entrance.
“Shit, Buck!”
He intentionally breathes out all over you. “That’s not how you call me, princess.”
“What do you want then?” You snap, desperately. You need to be eaten out, not teased. “Daddy? Sir? Old man? James? Tease?”
“That tone,” he says, amused by your suffering. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”
“Well, make me come first!”
“Always.”
He doesn’t tease you much after this, getting his tongue inside you for a while as you pull his hair, and then he switches it with his index finger as he decides to lick your clit.
“Y-you can suck on it. I like it.”
He immediately takes your suggestion and, at the same time you feel him adding another finger inside you, he sucks on your clit as if he’s nursing.
You lose control of your hips, moving them like crazy while he fucks you like this.
His free hand travels to your breast, and you groan. “I’m so close, James. Sooo close. Fuck,” you moan again when he pinches your nipple. “Add another finger, please. Another-”
He does it before you can ask again, and it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for you to come all over his face, surprising yourself and, probably him. It feels like you’re drowning in pleasure, it’s insane.
Even after you finish, he keeps licking just as fast, and you have to pull his hair harshly so he can stop.
“It’s enough, thank you, baby.”
He smiles, getting up to kiss you without hesitation. “I’m your baby now?”
“Of course you are. My big old baby.”
He laughs. “So old.”
“Yeah, my old man, who needs to take off his clothes.”
Bucky nods, standing up.
“Do you have a condom?”
“Ihm.” You crawl to the edge of the bed so you can help him take off his shorts quicker. It’s hard not to stare at his cock. He’s quite thick, and the head is covered in precum.
“What’s that face?” He laughs, fishing. You know he fishes too, but what can you say?
“You’re a big man.”
He laughs even harder. “Do you mean all of me or a certain part?”
“Fuck you!” You take his hand, forcing him to lean toward you. You won’t stroke his ego even more.
“Let me grab a condom first.”
You nod, eagerly waiting for him to get inside you as you watch him his open his nightstand. You brush off the instinct to cover yourself and spread your legs.
“How many times did you think about it?”
“About you in my bed? Too many times. I was gonna screw it over, you know?” He snorts. “The morning after my birthday. I wanted to come and confess I like and want you to myself, but you stayed away from me.”
You watch him open the package and roll the condom on as you answer. “I think your sister sensed it.”
Bucky scrunches his nose. “Not the greatest subject while I am about to fuck you, but yeah, she knew. She saw right through me, and as we left she told me to go for it and do something scandalous for once.”
“Really?” You’re shocked. Why would she encourage him to do that while you were still with her other brother? “She told me not to play with both of your hearts before we left.”
Bucky shakes his head while getting on his knees between your legs. “You can play with my heart all you want, doll. It’s all yours”
“I need something else of yours right now. Your cock, sir.” You tease him, knowing the effect your words will have on him. You enjoy this so much… having this power over him. “How about that?”
“Ihm.” Bucky kisses your lips briefly. “When you tell me to stop, I’ll stop, okay?”
You nod eagerly, wanting to push him. “What if I don’t want you to stop, what should I tell you then?”
“Just beg for my cock. You seem to like that.”
“You would love that, wouldn’t you? If you want me to beg, at least give me a reason to.”
And he gives you a reason to as he pushes inside you little by little. It’s a strange feeling... getting filled like this with no lube, but it doesn’t hurt, it’s just a bit uncomfortable at first.
“You okay?”
“Ihm, just full.” You smile.
“You’re so tight, and wet, and perfect, you know? I feel like... shit, it feels surreal.”
You look down, and you almost moan from the sight. His cock is more than halfway inside you.
“You feel amazing too.”
He kisses you as he starts to thrust, and you don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Maybe it’s also the build up and the time that has passed since you last had sex, but you can’t think straight. With every push, it gets harder and harder to focus or to simply keep your eyes open.
“Come on, princess, talk to me!”
He leaves kisses all over your collarbone and wherever he manages between his thrusts as he waits for you to speak. But what can you say? How can you speak?
“Y-you feel so good inside me, daddy. So good.” It’s like your mind is blank.
“Jesus!” His eyes meet yours. “Say that again, come on, baby.”
“What? That you feel good or...?”
“You know what, don’t be bratty now. I know you’re close.”
“I want it a little harder, daddy.” You smirk when you see him trembling a little, and before you can say anything else, he’s starting to thrust again, but harder just like you want.
“You’re mine, aren’t you? Worrying about me... taking me so well,” he moans, and you quickly grab the sheets when you feel one of his hands getting to your clit without warning. “Gonna come for me? Gonna come while everyone is downstairs wondering what takes you so long? Gonna come for your daddy?”
You do, of course you do, silently, yet strongly. It feels like heaven, and you don’t want it to ever stop. You can taste the pleasure at this point.
“Look at you,” he moans, still thrusting. “So beautiful as you come for me. Tell me you want me to come for you, too. Tell me-”
You interrupt him immediately. “Please, James, let it go, want you to feel good.” You kiss his neck over and over again. “Want to feel your come inside me.”
You both know that’s impossible, but it still gets him over the edge, and he comes, whispering your name like a prayer.
“Was it good?” You ask amused when his head falls dramatically on top of your breasts, his beard tickling you a little.
“I’m a changed man.”
He manages to make you laugh. “Liar!”
“Don’t call an old man liar, sweetheart.”
“What happened to love or baby?” You lazily run a hand through his hair as you wait for his answer.
“You’re my love and my baby, too..”
“How are you single again?”
“I’m not. You took me.” He grins devilishly before leaving a kiss on the valley between your breasts. Again and again.
“Ah, yes, I do.” You sigh, suddenly back to earth once the after-orgasm effect fades away. “We need to talk about it.”
“I know, and we will in the morning. Tonight, your job is to relax in the bath I’ll prepare for you while I go downstairs and make the punk end the party. Then we’ll sleep, okay?”
“Ihm,” you whisper absently. suddenly really tired as he slides out of you with a kiss.
“Gonna throw this away and come back, okay? Try not to sleep.” You don’t have to look at him to know he’s talking about the condom.
“Yes, sir.”
Bucky’s laugh warms your heart.
*
You wake up all sweaty, with Bucky’s arms around your waist and his beard on your neck giving you extra warmth. If you attempted to move him, he’s too heavy; therefore, you’d have to wake him up.
You sigh. “Bucky?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you move? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Say the magic word,” he whispers with the raspiest voice ever.
“Now. Or is it daddy?”
He laughs. “Gimmie a kiss then.”
“Let me brush my teeth first.”
“Nonsense!” He leans in to kiss your without warning, tilting your head with his right hand.
You don’t deepen the kiss, though, using this as an opportunity to sneak out of the bed.
“Hey, come here! I don’t care about your-”
“I stink. You might not care, but I do. Gonna be right back, okay?”
You’re not fast enough, though, since you hit him with the bathroom door when you open it. “Bucky!” You jump, touching your chest.
“Took too long.”
“Such a baby.” You snort, wrapping your arms around his neck, and get on your tip toes so you can properly kiss him this time.
“Now this is a good morning.”
You nod. “Yep. Good morning.”
“Good morning, little liar.”
You frown instantly, your heart starting to race. Shit!
“I am really sorry, Bucky. I really didn’t mean to...” You try to explain, but you sound like a broken record.
“I don’t mean that, love. I am talking about what your principles.”
You feel like your whole body is on fire. This can’t be real...
“Was all a game?” You slam your hands onto his chest. “Is this a game for you?”
“What? I mean your not sleeping or having sex policy, woman. Calm down! What games? I came after you cause you were taking too long, and you think this can be a game?”
“I don’t know... I just panicked.” You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. “It sounded like you were gonna say it was all a game because I lied to you.”
Bucky shakes his head before wrapping his arms around you waist and pulling you into a tight hug.
“I would never do that. I am not a kid and I know what I want. I know why you accepted this, and you didn’t lie to me, you were hiding the truth from a stranger. They are the ones who should have said something.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, baby. I just wanted to make sure you know that.”
You kiss his upper arm in return, and he smiles.
“So tell me... what happened to not sleeping in the same room? Not having sex...”
“Why are you teasing me?”
“It’s my job as your man to do that.”
You let go of him and smile. “My man… I’m not intending to return you.”
“Return me?” He giggles, suddenly amused. “Now that we’re here, I have a question.”
“What?”
“How jealous you were of Cherry on a scale from 1 to 10?”
You gasp. “Are you going to ask everything this morning or what?”
“Do you want me to do it at lunch?” He teases you. “You don’t have to be jealous. We aren’t even close friends anymore, so...”
“I don’t care about Cherry! She’s nice...”
He brings your hands to his lips and slowly leaves a kiss on each finger.
“Then why was my mocktail left there? It was crying for you to drink it.”
You snap, taking him aback as you grab him by the chin. “You’re mine, do you understand? No Cherry, no Berry, no Watermelon!”
He laughs as much as he can since you’re holding his chin, but then something glows in his eyes. “What about Strawberry?”
“No. One. No fruit, no vegetable, no one.”
“Done,” he answers immediately. “But same goes for you. No William, Will, Bill and so on.”
“He’s not my type, obviously.” You touch his bottom lip with your index finger. “I like them old, savage, and huge like trees.”
Bucky immediately bites the tip of your finger before licking it. “We need to tell everyone. How do we do it?”
You freeze, dropping your hand.
What will you do? If this blows up, and you know it will, where will you go? Where will you work? Your mom would try to fight for you, but you know your dad would immediately cut you off and make sure you’ll regret it. He’d want you to beg for forgiveness, so he will make sure no one hires you.
Bucky must have sensed your panic and immediately grabs your face.
“Hey, I can see you making a hundred of scenarios in your head, talk to me.”
“In the bathroom?” You ask, trying to lighten up the mood for some reason.
“Don’t you want them to know?” He asks confused.
“Of course I do, don’t get me wrong. It’s just...”
“Complicated?” He completes the sentence for you.
“A little.”
“We have time, I’m all ears.”
Tags:
@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624 @cjand10 @mayusenpai666 @abitofblues @doveromanoff @buckyb-stan
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#boyfriend's brother!bucky#boyfriend's brother!bucky barnes#fake dating#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x y/n#marvel fanfic#bucky fanfiction#my stories#my fanfics#sebastian stan#marvel fanfiction
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viii. leave me on red
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eight of i like the way you
best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.
warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - phone/text/video sex. angst. dont hate the jo.
word count: 3.6k
an: the hugest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for not getting mad at me for doing this to them.
You decided it in the minutes after he left, you were going to tell him.
Back pressed to the door, head resting, eyes closed. Tears stinging in the edges, burning. Your breath all strained and difficult—that is, until it decided what it wished to be, anyway.
Then, it shifted, transformed. It morphing into a sob that rumbles and cracks, shaking its way through you until your knees plead to crumble to the floor.
Because you had wanted to chase after him. Even ring him. Beg him to come back.
It wasn’t until you climbed back into bed, letting the scent of him wash over you, did you commit to the idea.
That’s when you begin rehearsing it, letting it move from rolling around your skull to dripping from your tongue. You did so as you made food, as you did chores. Perfecting it, choosing words so cautiously and carefully, swapping them out, practising it until it becomes a thing typed into a piece of your soul.
I’m in love with you Frankie. I have been for a while.
You don’t expect it to rival the greatest poets, and won’t find a place amongst the greatest scripts to ever be. It won’t be a speech that’ll be copied and used in film. But it’ll matter.
It will be meaningful.
It’ll have weight and carry truth—and you suppose, when all is said and done—that’s what will matter. It’ll be out there, free, existing—swirling between the two of you instead of caged inside of your chest.
Once you’ve spoken it, it should calm the storm inside of you; should quiet the choppy waves that collide within you, each one attempting to do more than knock you off your feet, but grasp you by the ankles and drag you under.
Confessing it, should do a lot of things. But that doesn’t bring you any comfort right now. If anything, it makes you feel sick, feeling only thorny anguish which keeps you up at night.
Never before had you been thankful for booking vacation time.
A chance to be, to sit around your home and pretend you don’t want to find a way to get to him, tell him it all now, let it unspool, even with no hope of it being the same as it ever was.
Because you could lose him. Ruin it all. Taint the one thing you cherish above all else.
It’s why you turn it over. Letting it worm its way from a box of doubts to a fully-fledged car crash you replay over and over as you lay in bed, fingers twitching, chest tightening, jaw clenching.
It’s only on the third day since you had made the decision, that you decide to share your plan with another soul.
Doing so over the phone—only one name came to mind. As soon as she answered and you spilt, you were greeted with only a joyous tone, it all full of pride. Your friend who is all knowledgable and wise, being nothing short of a cheerleader. Saw it coming, she tells you, been waiting for you to wake up and smell the coffee. You bite your inner cheek, doing so until copper swirls around spit, because you’ve known too (something you want to tell her). You’d been carrying it around for longer than realisation had been bestowed on her.
It’s easier not to say it. Swallowing it, letting it die in a pit of stomach acid, where other things you never say go to erode.
“Any advice?” you’d asked.
“Just be honest.”
On day four, you had gnawed the skin from your lip. It's sore, practically pulsing. It has its own heartbeat from how raw it feels.
Your nerves beginning to get the better of you, swarming and piercing, pecking away at your earlier confidence—stinging it with doubts, ones which spread, all poisonous, swelling out until it’s all you can feel.
His texts help.
One day I’ll get you back up in a heli.
Only if I can sit between your legs like last time.
Can sit anywhere you want, baby.
You’re not sure how it’s possible that miles away he can make your day better and your pussy clench around nothing all at once. Your body missing him—just as much as your head, heart and soul. Thighs pressing together, all your earlier thoughts popping like bubbles as you read his words over, and over, and over. A whimper grows in the back of your throat, hammering on the back of your teeth to be released.
Flicking your eyes up, you catch your appearance in the mirror.
The way your skin is just lightly sheened with the droplets from your shower—having been in a rush to reply than dry yourself. So much so, the air tinged with the scent of your shampoo and body wash. It’s thick, and heavy, your skin warming under the effect of his words making it more prominent, evident.
Smirking, you slide your hand until it undoes the robe of your dressing gown—letting it gape, the cool air brushing over once warm skin, until it pebbles, the peaks of your nipples hardening as you take a breath, and snap. There, immortalised, you stand—positioning your phone, ensuring the camera cuts off your eyes, beginning at the base of your nose, capturing the white of your teeth against your bottom lip, the white robe hanging, parted, framing the bare skin under it.
And you don’t think, you just send.
No caption, no message.
Just the sound of the whoosh as your heart hammers, beats, and thumps in the milliseconds it takes before you see the speech bubble of his reply.
Fuck, baby.
Wish you were here.
Bending down to kneeling, you shimmy the fabric from your shoulders—pooling it in the creases of your elbows. Positioning yourself so your hand can be seen perfectly between your thighs, keeping yourself hidden, just a fraction. You ensure your breasts are on show, arm shifting to push them closer together, before you smirk—no, you think. Shifting your expression to a smile, a little one, which grows bigger and larger just as you click the shoot button.
It begins, a slow-motion capture of your disrobe, of you seating yourself down on the floor in front of your mirror, taking instruction through his texts—positioning yourself like a doll. The last being on your rear, soles flat to your carpet, thighs spread, head back as your neck elongates.
You’ve never felt more beautiful, even exposed. Eyes don’t linger on the things you usually pick apart first thing in the morning, before you dress for another day, and they don’t linger on the parts you catch in the corner of your eyes before you shower. You just see radiance, shadow-kissed skin that is being bowed to through a screen.
Fuck you’re gorgeous. Can see how wet you are. You need me, baby?
Always, Frankie.
Your finger sliding along your inner thigh, tips brushing over before parting your folds. It won’t be enough, he’s ruined you—made it impossible not to wish for him, crave those thick, long fingers that both keep things hovering in the air and you hovering over space, time and existence.
“Frankie,” you moan, to no one but you.
Curling, sinking deeper until—
Can I call you?
You don’t reply, you just call. The distinct sound of a request to video echoes around the room as you slow your ministrations, a low whimper escaping as he connects, as his face fills the screen that's cast to the side, his own view of your ceiling.
He says your name, quiet, more questioning. Your trembling hand moves, picking it up as the other remains buried deep inside you, lifting your phone, giving him a view, a taste, a sight.
“Tell me what to do,” you whine.
Watching him as he drinks as much of you in as he can, commits you to memory, skates his eyes over every pixel, not wanting to miss a single one, before he clears his throat, before he carries you in his phone to his bed.
Licking your lips, you release a breathy sigh—one that begins in the depths of your stomach, rising up and fluttering out. Almost carrying a moan as you find that spot inside of you, the one which makes you boneless, thighs threatening to tremble.
“You want me to keep my fingers—“
“Faster,” Frankie stammers, “Want you to move those perfect fingers a little faster for me. Think you can do that?”
Nodding, you roll your lips, heat washing out over you, gripping the phone tightly.
“Fuck, baby. Y’know how good you look right now?”
You heave out his name. It building, fanning out over nerves that tingle at the edges of you—making your fingers curl, heel of your palm catching the swollen bundle of nerves that makes the sound of what you’re doing that much louder, filthier, more obscene.
And you fucking love it.
Love all of this.
Love him—
“Wish I could bury my face between your legs—“
“—oh, shit—“
“—y’like the sound of that, querida?”
Your eyes flick to the screen, staring at him—a pang in your chest flooding outwards, it mixing with how much you wish he was here, desperate for it, half-wanting to beg him to get his ass over here and make a mess of you in front of your mirror.
“Touch yourself,” you say instead.
Swallowing back the rest, letting your head fall back, obscuring him from view as you slow your movements, teasing, edging yourself as your core twists, and electricity thunders in your veins.
“Want—fuck—wanna come with you.”
“Alright baby,” he says—as if it’s the most normal thing, as though anything the two of you are doing is normal. “Let’s do this together.”
You hope it’s not the only time he’ll say that to you.
Days drag when you clock watch. Hours take even longer.
It’s a thing you know, but you can’t help but do so all the same. Each time you check, you hope it’s closer to the time. The one marked in your calendar, the one which has been making you both nervous and elated all week.
It had only been when you stopped tidying, stopped moving things from one counter to the other, did you spot it—eyes land on it and never leave.
You're not even sure when he left it behind, but your eyes linger on the corduroy jacket near your door. It’s moss-green, hanging, growing in the corner of your eye and borrowing more of your attention than it should. You’re sure it grows vines, ones which tap on your shoulder when you’re able to forget it’s there, only to make you look over, and spot it all over again.
The worst thing about it, it looks like it's supposed to be there. As though the hook you had expertly hung, (correction: hammered a nail in and hoped for the best) was always meant to hang his things, be dedicated to it.
In truth, he acts like he’s supposed to be here.
Fitting, even if you’d never made a place for him outside of being his friend. Now, you see the outline of him, perfect cut out, a drawer which could host the bolts and bits from his pockets, the shelf which he could place his eccentric collection of DVDs from the sleepless nights during storms.
You suppose it’s why it continues to catch your eyes, your gaze lingering on it—knowing, without brushing your fingers against it or burying your nose into it, that it smells like it. That, in its own way, is spreading out that calming effect he has.
One you need now more than ever.
Hand wrapping around the handle of the knife, chopping, preparing. Eyes studying the recipe that is ingrained in you, one you could do with a timer and your eyes closed, but you need to stare at it, to read the handwritten notes and pretend for a second it’s not something you used to make for him all the time.
Before the rule, the one he made you agree to because you’d asked something from him.
Now, you just snort. Adding the ingredients to the pot, turning the heat down, as a soft simmer begins before you wipe your hands down on your towel. Because in time, you’d broken all of them, both for one another and for yourselves.
And that had to mean something. Had to be more than a coincidence or something that just was. It had to be underpinned by unsaid words and swirling emotions neither of you feel equipped to handle, yet feel more prominently than you know what to do with.
You make more of an effort in your clothes. Not for him, for you. A thrill sparks through you when you catch sight of yourself when you pass a mirror, catch yourself in the reflection of a window, your television. Because you look like someone who could confess your feelings, let your adoration be known. You feel like someone who will do it, can do it—a confidence which has been coming and going since you’d decided.
It’s only when you lay it all out (the glasses, the plates and the cutlery), does a stitch begin to appear in your carefully thought-out plan. One that digs, the needle-sharp, pointed, aiming to prick and make you bleed, smear across perfection and make it ruin. A thing you put off, able to argue with it, point out its stupidity.
Tonight could be the last time you see him.
Maybe, this thing the two of you had was all he had wanted—all he’d needed. Not an overbearing amount of emotions he can’t handle or begin to understand.
A thought you try to squash, shove down deep inside.
That is, until the bigger hand pushes the smaller one on, and it begins to create a hole inside your chest. It forming based on that earlier thought. That dread, that worry and concern which has been thickening in the back of your head for weeks now. Now, it's grown out of the walls you kept it behind. It widens with each passing minute until it’s close to an hour and it’s practically a sinkhole. It taking everything it can with it—happiness, courage, laughs and the smiles. Vanishing them, wiping them clean like they never existed, as every bit of wanted you had felt, was painfully plucked from you, tweezed until you were back to that horrid place you were before all of this began.
Except now, you felt too much. Unsure if you’re able to put a cork in it, trap it under just want him to be happy and content at being friends.
A sob escapes, just a little one.
But, it’s enough to widen the door. Allowing more of them to bubble up and appear, climbing forcibly up your chest as though they’ve been building a ladder and plotting their escape for the last few minutes.
Each rolling out, freeing, bursting into the air. Your body racked with them, trembling, shaking.
Your hand finds refuge on the counter, stabilising you, keeping you from falling into the hole of your own making. And your thumb brushes porcelain, the neatly displayed food you’d spent hours on, a declaration all on its own.
A—see, I broke the rules too, Morales—except, he hasn’t come. Hasn’t arrived.
Maybe he’d known. Maybe he’d decided that it was all too much, standing you up easier—you supposed it was much harder to face the person you’d been best friends with and break her heart to her face.
But, your Frankie would never do that. Except he isn’t yours, not really.
Even less so as time ticks far past running late into the zone of stood up.
And you feel dumb, stupid. A gnawing sensation growing in the place your love had once been, it twisting, tainting, painting everything it can in ruin and staining it in the disappointment you never thought he’d make you feel.
“Fuck,” you choke out, hand clasping your face.
Fresh tears, acidic and thick, hammer down onto your cheeks like a downpour. Layering on top of one another, blurring your vision, making your chest feel both heavier and lighter all at once.
Grabbing your phone, you don’t even think—unlocking it, finding the contact and clicking Message.
Are you free for a drink?
You should consider it, go to bed, wake up tomorrow and bury your feelings in something healthier like yoga or a walk—but you send it. Discarding your phone across the counter, it clattering, catching on the plate as you bury your face in your hands.
Tears, hot and thick—running down your wrists—not doing enough to numb you as you let them fall. Disbelief doubles as hope is swallowed whole, your throat filling with sobs you feel forced to let spill—etching their way into the silence, fracturing it, cracking what should be laughter, but is instead loneliness.
It’s why you’re thankful they reply with a yes, giving it no more thought as you blow out the candle in the centre of the table, ending the night before it even began.
Frankie wakes to darkness.
It’s a comfort, the way it blankets him, allows the little shadows to rest easy against the ceiling from his open curtains—it is all soothing, relaxing. It even almost allowed him to curl back into the comfort of his sofa. His blanket—the one you bought him—cast over the lower part of his legs.
Then he remembers.
Eyes widening, blinking furiously as he throws his legs from the sofa, hand grabbing—making all sorts of noise on his coffee table—until his phone screen illuminates and he sees the time.
Late it spells.
It all a blaze, just in the form of numbers.
Fucking late it bellows.
Disorientation wraps around him as he shoves himself up to stand, fingers tugging at his curls until he imagines they’re more frizz than defined. Not even thinking—just grabbing. Phone, keys. Shoes barely on his feet as he yanks open his own door.
Calling you.
It rings. And it rings. Each unanswered drone of it doing something to the fragility of his heart. Making it quake, crackle at the edges.
All week, he’d done nothing but think of you. Think of holding you, burying himself close against you, not even asking you to shed layers, but rather just lying with him. Take in the weight of you that he finds all but a comfort.
I love you, he had planned to whisper. Mark it against your neck, just under your ear. Write it against your lips if you let him. Burn it anywhere else until you’re nothing but tattooed in praise and adoration.
“Pick up, baby,” he mumbles.
Ringing you again in the car.
The drive over tense, silent—the occasional dial tone echoing around the bed of his truck. His knuckles whiten at each red light, shoulders practically under his ears when he pulls onto your street. Something knotting, all horrible, riddled with vines and sharpness that cut into him with each breath he takes.
He’s not sure if he should be worried or thankful your car is in the drive—because the house is plunged into darkness. His boots clatter against your wooden steps, hammering on the short porch as he cracks his knuckles against the door.
Its echo, comes back to him—able to travel around in the silence and come back with an answer.
You’re not here.
But he knocks again, and again. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, something clenched around his stomach, tightening and tightening as your name falls, all pleading, an edge to it that he hadn’t known was possible. But then, he hadn’t known he could begin splitting down the middle, the seams coming undone, his own might and willing not able to keep him together as the realisation he’d fucked up the one good thing he had.
The one good thing he didn’t even really have, too cowardly to tell you—too fearful that you’d stare at him blankly and tell him you don’t feel the same.
Because he’s been drowning in it, in this, in you, for so long, he knows how to just about keep his head from going under. He had been sure he could do it for longer, could stem his feelings, push them down. Until, you slept against him, fitting perfectly.
Until he woke with his arm draped over your waist, your leg tangled in his, staring at him with wonder and awe as you traced your name on his back.
He should have told you then it was the best thing he’s ever woken up to. A sight he had only dreamt of, but never imagined could even be true.
Pushing your key into the door, he’s greeted by darkness. It hovering its hand to him, welcoming him, even if the cold chill of the place was more than unsettling. He wanders, feet almost dragging, half hoping to find you sat in the dark, because at least then he could begin to make it up to you.
You’re not.
Moving through to your kitchen, all set to pass through to your bedroom, when something makes his eyes pull to your table, and he sees it.
Eyes landing on the set-up, from the plates to the glasses, to the orange dish in the centre—and his heart drops to his feet. It landed with a squelch, a thud which vibrates through him to the tips of him.
You made him food.
You broke a rule. You broke the rule.
His eyes beginning to well up, stinging, until one falls.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
Letting his hand run down his face, staring at his favourite meal—unable to unsee how congealed it was, how long it’s been sat there, existing, waiting.
“Fuck.”
an: forgive me 😘
CHAPTER NINE ->
#frankie morales x reader#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales smut#Frankie morales x reader smut#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#jo: iltwy#triple frontier x reader#francisco morales fanfiction#triple frontier fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#francisco catfish morales x reader#catfish morales x reader#frankie morales smut#triple frontier smut#frankie morales x f!reader smut#pedrostories
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Jealousy, Jealousy... | Final Part
A/N: this is the main ending. there is an alternative ending available for the other boy on patreon. the link for which is found at the end of this chapter.
Word count: 13k
Genre: Smut, angst, fluff
Warnings: fem!reader, mostly dom!reader, face-sitting, PIV sex, dirty talk, creampie, handjob, heartbreak.
“Hey, baby.” You greet Yeonjun, giving him a kiss on the lips. “Ready to go?”
You were picking him up to go home after a long day of work for the both of you. You had in mind a night of drinking wine and complaining about your day until you passed out in his arms and you can’t wait to get home already.
“Just a little longer, doll.” He tells you and you immediately start whining. “Junnie… those two bottles of wine I bought aren’t gonna drink themselves. We gotta get cracking.”
He chuckles tiredly. “While I appreciate your efforts to get me drunk, Beomgyu has composed a new song and I need to stay back to hear it.”
“Oh.” It’s still so weird to you how you now have to hear news about what your best friend is up to from other people. You used to know these things first. If this was a few months ago, you’d have already heard the song before anyone else did. But now you’re lucky if you even get to hear it at all.
But that’s for the best. You’re doing good with Yeonjun. You’re doing good without Beomgyu. You’re breathing. You’re eating. Your heart is beating… maybe even for someone else for a change. It may have been excruciatingly painful at first–forcing yourself to step away from him, not seeking him out to try to make things better after your most recent fallout, not jumping at the chance when he reached out himself, pretending like you’re too busy to see him, making up excuses so you won’t be alone with him, building up your walls so maybe one day you can stand in a room with him and not have to hold back every cell of your body from throwing yourself at his feet and begging him to love you, but you’ve gotten a lot better at it.
“Do you wanna listen to it?” Yeonjun asks when he sees your curiosity, but you hesitate. Should you? Maybe you should just wait in the car…
But when you see Beomgyu come out with his acoustic guitar and set it on his lap, you find yourself nodding and grabbing a seat next to Yeonjun. You miss hearing him sing. You miss being privy to his passions and whims. Maybe it's selfish of you to allow yourself the opportunity to witness more of him than you’re willing to give him but you never claimed to not be selfish.
As if Beomgyu shares your thoughts, he glances at you, hesitating for a second and you can see the thoughts flitting behind his pretty eyes–you know him too well. Is he thinking about kicking you out? Does he not want you to hear the song because you’ve been keeping your distance from him?
Eventually though he looks down at his guitar and starts to play, and as soon as the first words leave his lips, your heart drops.
Oh, I’m falling in love
As time goes by
As my feelings grow
I’m becoming more anxious
How deep is your love?
I want to ask
Couldn’t it be the same if not deeper?
Your heart lurches in your chest at the lyrics. Falling in love? Is Beomgyu falling in love with Haeun? You know you have no right to feel hurt by this but you do. Why couldn’t he have loved you? What does he see in her that you couldn’t have given him? Is she prettier than you? Smarter? Kinder? Funnier? What was it that made you fall short of deserving his love?
Seeing you change little by little
I’m afraid I’ll lose you
Not mine
My one minute, one second
Take them all
All my time is yours
Why?
Why have you changed?
Why are you so far away from me?
Now we are at different paths.
It hurts even more that it seems she’s not reciprocating his feelings. She has everything you want and she doesn’t even want it. He’s willing to give her everything but it seems it’s not enough for her. Oh how cruelly ironic.
She seemed to be very into him before, at least after the band got more popular, and with every increase in their popularity, she attached herself to him more and more, but something must’ve gone wrong along the line. You have known for some time that Beomgyu and Haeun have been having relationship troubles but you don’t know exactly what because Beomgyu hasn’t told anyone but you guess it’s really bad if this song is about them.
Is she in love with someone else? Has she lost interest? How could she do it so easily when it’s taking everything in you to do the same. Can she tell you her secret so you can stop suffering and give your heart completely to the man who actually wants it?
How can I go back
To our beginning
When we were looking at the same place
The when we had the same heart
I hope you don’t know it
This feeling
Even though I love you
I still feel alone
He’s hiding it from her, afraid to reveal his feelings–maybe because he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way, that if he reveals them she’ll reject him. You know that feeling all too well. You wish you could protect him from it even if he was the cause of your own similar pain.
As the chorus repeats, you become even more sure that the song is about him. You can hear the anguish so clearly in his voice. Beomgyu has always been so talented, always able to give his all to the song and live it as if it’s his own, but you know him too well. You know this is real pain.
I’m drowning in you
Don’t leave me like this
As the bridge reaches its climax, your body shakes, wanting to lunge forward and take him into your arms, to save him from himself even if it would tear you to pieces. But you can’t. You don’t have the right to anymore. All you can do is sit there and wait for him to finish his song, wait for the boys to discuss it as if it’s not his heart being laid out in the open to be dissected.
“What do you think?” He asks once the song is over, biting the skin of his finger, a nervous habit you’ve always quietly found adorable. You would always grab his hand and kiss the poor finger better, scolding him for hurting himself, but secretly you loved it. You loved having his hand in yours. You loved having an excuse to press your lips against him. And you loved the smile he would always give you in response.
“It’s really good." Kai says, impressed. "Didn’t know that someone as emotionally stunted as you could come up with such a moving song."
"Fuck off." Beomgyu mutters, not in the mood for jokes, obviously nervous to see what the others think.
“Yeah, I like it too. You said you’re thinking of having violins in the opening?” Taehyun asks, picking up a music sheet.
Beomgyu nods. “Yeah. I know we’ve never done that before but I feel like it would really add to the atmosphere of the song.”
"I think it could be fun." Taehyun hums, turning to Soobin. “What do you think?”
"I agree. It's good to experiment a bit while still maintaining our sound which I think this song does really well. It could expose us to more people while still not alienating our existing fanbase.” He praises and Beomgyu smiles, relieved at his song being so well-received by the other members. “I especially like the bridge part. I think once Yeonjun sings it, it would really elevate the song.”
Beomgyu's face falls at that but he quickly covers it up. You furrow your eyebrows. That can't feel good, being compared negatively with Yeonjun, even if Soobin didn't mean it like that.
You look at Yeonjun, who hadn't said a word so far. He was staring at Beomgyu weirdly. Did he not like the song?
You nudge him, giving him a questioning look and he just shakes his head, smiling at you before saying, "I like it. Good job, man."
Beomgyu gives him a tense smile in response, and the group falls into an awkward silence for a few seconds–a weird tension hanging in the air, before Soobin clears his throat and begins discussing how they'll play the song, what parts could be improved and who will get which part. You don’t really listen anymore, just looking between Yeonjun and Beomgyu.
Your boyfriend seems to have gotten over his weird reaction, now focused on the technicalities. Beomgyu is focused too but he doesn’t look as enthusiastic as you expected him to be–as you'd seen him get when talking about his songs before–and it's more proof to you that this is a very personal song to him.
As the boys finally break up after a while, most of them going their separate ways to pack up their stuff and get ready to leave, your boyfriend stays behind with Soobin, still discussing something with him. That’s when you spot Beomgyu alone, putting his guitar in its case, and you take the opportunity to go talk to him, unable to hold yourself back this time.
“Hey, Beomgyu, that song was really good.” You start by saying, wanting to congratulate him on a really good song but also needing an opener. But Beomgyu doesn’t say anything in response, simply giving you a blank look–which fucking hurt but you guess you deserve it–so you continue lamely, trying to get him to respond. “You’re really talented. I don’t think you’re gonna need to moonlight as a stripper anymore.” You try to joke but again he doesn’t really say anything, turning his attention back to his guitar bag which he zips up.
“Umm… Beomgyu, that song… is it about you?” You bite the bullet, and he finally gives you some sort of response, albeit nonverbal. He looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Is it about you and Haeun?”
“What?” He frowns and you explain yourself nervously, hoping you weren’t overstepping boundaries that have sprung up in your absence. “Well, the song is about a guy who loves someone who doesn’t feel the same about him and how she’s changing and being distant… is that what’s happening with Haeun?”
He sighs. “Maybe. So what?”
You wince at his callousness, like he doesn’t have time for you. You suppose you brought it on yourself with the way you've been avoiding him. Still you ignore it, determined to tell him what you think anyway. “Well, if it is, you should tell her. Tell her how you feel, she might feel the same way and you don’t even know. You might both be pulling away when all you want is to be with each other.” Yes, you know how hypocritical it is of you to say that but you can’t imagine a world in which anyone would reject Beomgyu’s love. “If you love her then you should tell her, right?”
He snorts. “What do you even know about how I feel? Do you have any idea about the amount of hurt and self-loathing it would cause me if she doesn’t feel the same way? How it would ruin our relationship if she’s not where I am?”
“I know.” You grit down on that same pain. “I know.”
He pauses, his anger burning out as soon as it ignites. Then he asks quietly, “Yeonjun?”
You press down on your lips. You know if you say no then he might figure it out. He might finally discover your wretched secret, so you smile and nod, fully knowing how hypocritical you are being right now. You’re such a fucking coward, you disgust even yourself.
“Right.” He is quiet for a minute, and the atmosphere is charged with weird, unreadable emotions that buzz in your ear and form sparks over your skin. You almost excuse yourself–not really wanting to leave despite how uncomfortable it is but knowing you should. You’ve said what you wanted to say. There is no good reason for you to linger around any longer.
But then Beomgyu speaks again. "Are you happy?"
You pause, frowning in suspicion at the unexpected question, which Beomgyu notices right away and clarifies, "We haven't talked in a while. I wanna make sure you're doing alright." He says, tone genuine… and a bit sad.
"I am." You allow, not being untruthful. You are alright, no matter how bad you feel doing it without him. "We're doing well. Yeonjun is as wonderful as ever. He is sweet and funny and he shows me something new everyday. Which is a bit scary for me–you know how I am afraid of change, but he makes it exciting.”
“I’m glad. I want you to be happy.” He smiles at you. It doesn’t reach his eyes but you know he means it. “And I wish I could be there to see it for myself. Do you think you can let me?”
That’s what you were afraid of. This is why you shouldn’t have talked to him. You knew he might use it to try to get back into your life, and you know how hard it would be for you to say no. But you do it anyway. You have to do it for yourself and for Yeonjun.
“I can’t. Not now.” Each meager letter leaving your mouth feels like a blow to the heart. It lays battered in your chest, asking you why the hell you would refuse it its salvation, but you just push it down again, silencing it.
“But I miss you.” His words come out choppy and weak, and you know he’s holding back tears. You hate him for it because it makes you want to cry too. “Don’t you miss me?”
“Of course, I miss you!” You whisper as if you don’t want the universe to hear it. "I'll always miss you. But I can't keep doing this with you anymore. I'm tired of the whiplash."
"No more whiplash.” He shakes his head harshly, getting closer to you but you step back, causing pain to bloom across his teary face. “I get it now. I've worked through my stuff and I'm ready to be a real friend again."
"Well, I haven't worked through mine.” You stand strong. Or as strongly as you can be under such duress. “I still need time and I will not have you rush me."
He moves back, shoulders hunched down. "I'm sorry."
"I know." You say tiredly before walking away, your bruised heart bleeding out at the bottom of your chest.
____________
Beomgyu’s song has become some kind of a local sensation. It is being listened to by a lot of the young people in your city–resonating with many youths who have gone through similar heartbreaks. From small unrequited crushes to the person you love falling out of love with you–who hasn’t loved more than they have been loved before?
The painfully relatable song has gained the boys a considerable amount of fame online too. They were being asked to do more gigs than ever. They’ve even gotten an interview, which you’re currently preparing them for, dressing them up to look their best on camera.
Like always, you’ve left Beomgyu for last, dreading being close to him still. And he gives you every reason to, staring at you the whole time you fix his clothes.
"What?" You finally ask, and he gives you a dumb look. "What?"
"You're staring." You tell him, and he averts his gaze. You can see from the ear poking out of his long hair that he’s blushing. "Oh. Didn't realize."
Oh, how many times you’ve teased him over the way his ears turn red when he’s embarrassed. It was such an endearing quality in him, just one of the many small reasons that made up the whole of you loving him.
You got back to styling him, pretending it doesn’t tug at your heartstrings anymore, and he goes back to staring at you.
After a long beat of silence, he asks awkwardly, "So what are you up to? What's new with you?"
"Well, I'm the creative director for this up and coming band's new song." You joke, trying to ease off the tension. Or maybe his cute involuntary reaction softened up your defenses a little bit.
"Oh, are they good?" He grins, falling gladly into your familiar banter.
"They are, but I think their bass guitarist only got the job because of his looks."
He gives an affronted gasp. "What the hell? Hater! What, you think just because he's so pretty he can't possibly be talented too? Us pretty people are always misjudged."
"Oh, you poor pretty boy." You reach out to pinch his chin, before you realize what you’re doing and quickly take your hand away, clearing your throat and stepping back. “All done.”
You give him a tense smile and turn to leave but his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.
"Wait." He shouts, and you look down at his hand wrapped around your wrist. He notices your discomfort and immediately lets you go. "Do you want to get together for some food or a movie or something?"
Why does he have to make this so hard? Why does he do this every time?
"Not yet." You repeat what you must’ve told him a dozen times before. You can't slip back into it. Because your skin still buzzes whenever you touch him and your heart clenches painfully around the hole he left in it whenever you see him. You need time apart to fully let the love you have for him go.
"When?” He asks, frustrated. “When will it end? What can I do to help? What do you need me to do so you can be my friend again?"
"I need you to give me space." You say firmly, standing your ground.
“But–”
“No buts, Beomgyu. You’re the one who made it this way. If you had been my friend when I needed you to, we wouldn’t have gotten into this situation. You need to deal with the consequences of your own actions.”
He stares at the ground, not answering you. You sigh, turning around to leave with no restrictions this time.
Though what you said to him about his previous behavior causing a rift between you wasn’t false, it wasn’t entirely the truth either. The other reason you felt you couldn’t be his friend again yet is that you’re still not over him, and you’ve made a promise to yourself and to Yeonjun that you will only be devoting yourself to him from now on, and Beomgyu being there is just going to hinder your progress.
But as you watch the boys do their interview, you can’t help but feel guilty for what you’d said to Beomgyu. You know it was the right thing to do, but seeing him look so glum, his light dimmed and his spirits down, you wish you had held it off at least for later.
He is acting nothing like his normal loud, talkative self. He looks down and doesn’t speak unless directly asked a question. It hurts your heart because you know the people watching this won’t get to see how funny and bright and passionate he is. They’ll see him as the quiet guy staring at his own feet. He might still get some fans who would be into the quiet, sad look but that’s not who Beomgyu is. That’s not what he wants to be known as.
But the rest of the boys are covering for him well, especially Yeonjun. He is so charming, you know he’s gonna be stealing hearts left and right when this airs. He certainly has managed to put a smile on your face despite all the conflicting feelings you’re feeling, and you make sure he sees it whenever he glances in your direction.
_______________
The boys are doing better than ever, more interviews and gigs coming in and filling their schedule up so rapidly they’ll barely have any free time soon. They’re already in talks with a record company looking to sign them. Which is why you’re actively savoring moments like this when you get to just hangout with Yeonjun at the mall, eating a snack as you take a break from shopping–one of your favorite activities to do as a couple.
“Just think, soon enough we won’t even be able to do this. We’d be getting mobbed by crowds wanting your autograph and pushing me out of the way to take pictures of you.” You say to Yeonjun, half-joking. It might really happen one day with how quickly they’re gaining popularity. They might have small fame now but who knows what tomorrow will bring, and you believe in the boys. They’re talented enough to do it, and that both worries you and excites you.
“Well, I’ll only ever have eyes for you.” He winks at you, and you give him a small smile.
In moments like this you should feel happy. You are happy. But your happiness is incomplete. It is shadowed by worry and doubt. Yeonjun is so wonderful. He is so sweet and he can be very caring, but sometimes you can’t help but question how much he really feels for you. It keeps you from letting yourself completely go with him. He tells you words that are supposed to be charming, but they don’t sound personal. They don’t feel deep. You know he likes you, but is he ever going to love you?
Maybe you’re overthinking it. This is what a budding relationship is like–the novelty comes with uncertainty. The first times come with doubt. The young fire sometimes burns. You shouldn’t let yourself ruin it for you.
Yes, your love for him isn’t as old and deep-rooted as your love for Beomgyu but maybe that’s a good thing. It will take time to grow and flourish and become something just as beautiful or even more so. In time, you can learn to let go of your all-consuming love for your best friend, cover that gaping hole that Beomgyu has left in your heart, forget about the way every time you see Beomgyu with her you feel like screaming out so loud the gods themselves will weep–
“Beomgyu.” You gasp, seeing him in front of you. Fuck, he’s like bloody marry. Call his name three times and he appears.
You try to hide, putting your head down and attempting to cover your face with your hair but there is no mistaking Yeonjun’s bright orange head and Beomgyu quickly spots you and makes his way over to you with Haeun of all people.
“Curse your stupid hair.” You hiss at Yeonjun just before Beomgyu and Haeun arrive at the table.
"Hey, guys, are you on a date?" Beomgyu asks as if there was any doubt about it.
"Yes, actually." Yeonjun tells him in a tone that clearly conveys that you don’t want to be disturbed, But Beomgyu doesn’t care, grabbing a chair and pulling it out.
"Oh sweet." He sits down. "How have you guys been?"
“What are you doing, Beommie? We have a lot of shopping to do.” Haeun complains, and every time you hear her call him that you want to claw her tongue out.
"In a minute, baby. Let's rest our legs for a bit." He motions for Haeun to sit down, but she puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to rest.”
“Well then you go on and I’ll catch up with you.” He suggests and she huffs, deciding to sit down after all. Oh, joy.
“But I can’t leave you alone, Beommie.” She whines, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his neck, making you almost hurl.
Thankfully, Yeonjun takes your attention away from them. “So, what new crazy thing is your boss asking from you?”
You turn fully to him, trying your best to ignore the disgusting intruders. “Ugh, don’t even get me started. This morning, she–”
“Boss? What boss?” Beomgyu interrupts, and you clench your teeth, preparing yourself before turning your head to look towards him.
“The editor of Elements magazine. She saw the Frost shoot and wanted me to do a pictorial for them.”
“Oh my god, that is amazing.” He shouts, startling Haeun who was so close to his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
An awkward moment passes after his mindless question. Because we don’t talk? Because we’re not friends anymore?
Eventually, you decide to just shrug. “I guess it must’ve slipped my mind.”
“Right.” He clears his throat, going along. “Well, show me what you’ve done so far.”
You hesitate, glancing at Yeonjun who sighs and gestures for you to go ahead. So you pull up your phone, showing him some of the pictures you’ve already taken.
"Wow this is real artistic shit." Beomgyu awes and you laugh. Trust in Beomgyu to give such an un-nuanced but still somehow very flattering opinion.
“I don’t get it. It’s just a guy in a bathtub.” Haeun speaks up, obviously intending to antagonize you. “My friend Jiwon takes better pictures than this and he didn’t even go to college. If that’s what they teach you at school then you’ve wasted your money.”
Oh fuck no. You may be spineless but you won’t allow Haeun of all people to make fun of your work. You prepare to launch into a screaming match with her condescending ass, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Beomgyu beats you to it. “Your friend Jiwon takes back camera pictures of weird strangers on the street and makes up an exaggerated or completely false backstory about them to try to make the obviously amateur pictures appear more interesting. How fucking original.”
Beomgyu’s quick defense of you makes your heart swell. Some things never change.
“Yeah? Like this is original!” She sputters indignantly.
“I know it’s nothing groundbreaking.” You interrupt their quarrel, “Like a guy in a tub staring longingly at the camera isn’t something that hasn’t exactly been done before but… umm, it’s actually inspired by your song. The colored water is supposed to represent love, you know the “I’m drowning in you” part? It’s killing him but he can’t get himself to get out. He wants to drown in it… I don’t know it may be stupid but I hope you don’t mind.”
"Oh. No, I'm… flattered." He trails off, staring at you wide-eyed. “I didn’t think I would be able to inspire you again…”
“Yeah, well...” You mumble bashfully, a charged moment passes over you as you stare silently at each other.
"Are you done?" Haeun complains, and for once you’re thankful to her for cutting the strange moment. "I'm bored. Let's go."
“We haven’t even eaten anything yet. Take a look at the menus and order something for us, won’t you?” He asks her, but doesn’t even wait for her response before turning back to you. "You know what would be hilarious. If you get the editor to let you do a shoot with the plastic watermelon dress you made."
“It’s not plastic.” You roll your eyes at him, knowing exactly which dress he’s referring to. “It’s coral organza.”
“Looked like plastic to me.” He shrugs with a mischievous grin on his face.
“That’s because you're fashion illiterate.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m very fashion forward and hip.” He proclaims, sounding decidedly NOT neither fashion forward nor hip.
“Yes, because a punk guitarist wearing ratty shirts and ripped jeans is so revolutionary.” You drawl teasingly and he pouts, pulling at his shirt. “Hey! You were there when I picked these out. You said I looked cool.”
“Yeah, she’ll say you look cool wearing a garbage bag.” Yeonjun scoffs and you blush, realizing that you’ve completely neglected Yeonjun as soon as Beomgyu got here. You move back from your huddled forward stance to lean against your boyfriend.
“What?” Beomgyu asks and you quickly brush Yeonjun’s comment off. “Nothing. Now Yeonjun is very stylish. He knows all the trends and he knows how to make them work for him.”
Beomgyu snorts, glancing at your hand that is caressing Yeonjun’s chest. “I don’t follow trends. I make trends.”
“That’s right, baby. You’re a trendsetter.” Haeun coos, getting her hands on him too, touching him much more inappropriately than you were touching Yeonjun.
But Beomgyu ignores her once again, asking you, "How did you even reach the editor of Elements?"
"Oh, Yeonjun knew her." Your hand falls down to wrap around Yeonjun’s, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Of course, Yeonjun knows the editor." For some reason that piece of information really seemed to annoy Beomgyu. But you ignore his unnecessarily snarky tone and turn to smile at Yeonjun, hoping he’d forgive you for your earlier mishap. “Yeah, he’s amazing, isn’t he?”
"Yes, he’s great.” Beomgyu mutters, standing up. “I think me and Haeun have stuff to do. Let’s go, baby."
"Yes!" She claps happily, standing up too.
"Oh, okay. Bye, I guess." You mumble, watching them abruptly scurry off as you try to process the weird interaction. "What's wrong with him?"
“Maybe he’s just being his usual weird self.” Yeonjun shrugs, removing his hand from yours, making you frown. "Or maybe he feels inadequate because I was able to get you the job and he couldn't."
"That's ridiculous." Why would Beomgyu feel inadequate about that? He doesn’t have any obligation to get you work.
"Is it? If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too."
"What?" The world suddenly screeches to a halt, as does Yeonjun. He looks at you, slowly contemplating something as if he doesn’t know that the world has stopped and is waiting on him.
Finally, he sighs. "I tried to ignore it. Partly because the idiot is trying to hide it and partly because I like you, but ever since we got together, it's been pretty damn hard to ignore. Beomgyu is clearly in love with you.”
"No. You’re getting it wrong.” You shake your head, hoping to get rid of the cotton that has replaced your brain, your thoughts feeling fuzzy and slow as they travel through it. “He's just upset because he thinks us dating will drive me and him apart… which I guess has been true."
"No, he's upset because he wants to be with you and it's killing him to see us together.” Yeonjun clarifies, irritated at having to explain to you how some other guy is in love with you.
"How can you be so sure? Did he tell you that?"
"He doesn't have to tell me. I have eyes…" He looks you up and down. "And well, I'm not stupid like you two."
"That's ridiculous." You denounce once more.
"You said that already."
"Well, it is! Beomgyu doesn’t love me. I mean as a friend, sure but not… like that."
"Oh my god, I'm dealing with two idiots. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m explaining this to you but here goes,” Yeonjun exclaims in frustration, obviously not enjoying this conversation any more than you are. “Think about it, no guy gets this worked up over just a fuck. His first explanation of his anger being just because he’s afraid our relationship is going to ruin the band was total bullshit. It was just to throw you off his scent and have a way to get you to stay away from me without revealing anything. And his second explanation is even more bullshit. Why the fuck would us being in a relationship make you lose him as a friend if he didn’t hold anything but platonic love for you? Why does he get mad every time you and I take a step forward in our relationship? Because he’s fucking in love with you. He literally wrote a whole song about how he’s secretly in love with you and it’s killing him that you’re not his!"
“That song was about me?” You ask and he gives you a look as if to say he can’t believe a single human being can be this dumb. “No, it’s obviously about the girl he’s been ignoring the entire time he was sat with us just so he could talk to you.”
Your mouth opens slowly, tongue dry as it forms the words. "Let’s say he does love me. Why wouldn't he just tell me?"
"Why wouldn't you just tell him?"
You sputter uselessly for a while, not really saying anything. Until you give up and just stop, submerging the both of you in a suffocating silence. You’d think that your thoughts would be racing a million miles an hour right now, trying to process all this information, but nothing is going through your head except one question.
Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me?
You’re only taken out of your looping thought when Yeonjun sighs again. "Well, this was fun while it lasted."
"What?" Your mouth hangs open, your frozen brain somehow still having enough power to be shocked.
"You're obviously still completely in love with him. When he's there it's like you don't even see me. You don't see anyone else." Yeonjun says defeatedly.
"No, I–" You try to deny, but he gives you a pointed look, daring you to lie to him.
“Okay, I love him but I’m with you.”
“Only to get over him.”
You shake your head vehemently. “No. My feelings for you are real. Don’t you dare deny that.”
“Maybe, but they’re not as strong as your feelings for him.”
“But they can be.” You insist–trying to convince yourself or him, you don’t know. Maybe if you give me the chance to–”
“To what? Wait and see if you’ll finally look for me first when you walk into a room instead of him? Pretend that I don’t know that time and distance haven’t dulled your love for him one bit? I can’t go on in a relationship where I know my partner will always be thinking ‘what if’. I won’t let myself be hurt like that by you. Not anymore.”
You tear up. You were hurting him? You didn't even think he cared all that much. You must be a terrible judge of character to be getting both boys so wrong. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I never meant to hurt you. I really, really tried.”
You really did. You didn’t do this just to get over Beomgyu. Yes, it was part of it, but you liked him too. You really thought this could work, and you really think it would have if Beomgyu wasn’t in the picture, and so you did everything in your power to take him out of it. You moved out from your apartment. You cut Beomgyu off. You dedicated yourself to Yeonjun.
But how can you stop your heart from beating for Beomgyu? It’s entirely out of your control.
"But you did anyway.” He says and you wince, one tear escaping your lashes and falling down the left side of your face. “Do you hate me?”
“I could never hate you.” He sighs, and your lips tremble as you confess, “I wish you would. It might make me feel better.”
“Maybe you don’t deserve to feel better.” His words pierce your heart, and you know you deserve every ounce of pain it inflicts.
“That’s fair.”
You’re both silent for a long while–you trying to keep your tears under control, not wishing for him to see it as any intention to garner sympathy or guilt from him, and him sitting there quietly, his thoughts entirely hidden from you, but you know there is pain and anger in him. You can feel it radiating off of him.
But eventually your tears dry out, and you gather enough courage to ask one last thing of him. “I know I have no right to ask this but can you not tell Beomgyu about us breaking up? I don’t want him to know yet. But don’t worry, I’ll gather my things and move out. You won’t have to live with me.”
"You're not done playing games?" He frowns and you shake your head. "I'm not. It’s just because you guys are working out that record deal and if anything goes wrong, I don’t want to risk ruining things for you.”
“Fine.” Yeonjun graciously accepts. “And you can stay. I’m not gonna kick you out into the street. I’m not that kinda guy.”
____________________
Despite your love for Beomgyu, your break-up with Yeonjun wasn’t easy. You really liked him and had grown attached to him. And even though you still lived together, you hardly talked when it was just the two of you alone. You realize with time just how hurt he is by everything even though he tries his best to hide it from the others–not just because they think you’re still together, but because he has always refused to burden his younger members with his troubles, ever the selfless older brother. It’s one of the qualities you both admired and despised about him simultaneously. You wanted him to share his fears and worries, to lighten the load on his shoulders, and for a short while you were able to do that for him, but now that you’ve broken up, he’s left to carry all of it by himself again and with heartbreak to boot.
You feel incredibly guilty about it, and you mourn for the love that could’ve blossomed between you had you not been so hung up about your best friend. The best friend you still haven’t talked to by the way.
Yeonjun's words have not left your mind since the day he revealed everything to you. No moment passes by when you don't think about them. But you haven’t confronted Beomgyu about it yet because the record deal was still underway, and because you weren’t sure if Yeonjun is even right about it all. What if he’s wrong?
Yeah, what? You'll ruin your friendship with Beomgyu? It's already in shambles anyway. Still, the rejection will be brutal. You've lived in the shadows for years. You're used to ignoring your feelings, that kind of pain is familiar to you now, but if you reveal them to Beomgyu and he shoots you down, you might not bear it.
You'll tell him soon enough though, after the party tonight. The boys have finally reached an agreement with the record company and the contract has come through. They're officially signed to a label now and tonight’s party is a small celebration of that.
You’ll do it after the party tonight. You’ll ask to talk to him after everyone leaves and you’ll confess everything. You're ready to come clean and end it all. Well, as ready as you can be.
But as the party drags on, you get restless, and when you spot Beomgyu alone, refilling his drink, you can’t help but steal a little moment with him.
“Congratulations, Beommie. I hear your song sealed the deal.” You smile widely, your lips buzzing with the desire to tell him what you really want to say–that you love him, that you’re proud of him, and that if his song is really about you then he needs to know that you’ve always been his.
“Yeah. I’m not so useless after all.” Beomgyu’s reply is short and bitter.
“What?”
Yeonjun’s words ring in your ears. If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too. Is this Beomgyu being insecure like Yeonjun said?
But before you can get him to clarify what he means, Haeun comes running over, incapable of leaving him alone for more than a minute. Can you really blame her? If you had him, you would never let him go either.
“Baby, there you are! My star boy.” She throws her arms around him, pulling him into an open mouthed kiss that makes you want to vomit.
You quickly retreat, not having missed the soft-core porn you used to witness while living with Beomgyu. Fucking Yeonjun, is this what he calls Beomgyu being in love with you? You don’t see him pushing her away or anything. He seems pretty happy with the kiss if his tongue in her mouth is any indication.
"Foul." You mutter, swigging your cider, almost choking on it when a voice speaks up next to you. "That can't be good for the heart, huh?"
You look at Yeonjun sheepishly, not sure if you can talk to him about this. After all, you did break up because of your love for the man currently getting his face sucked off by Haeun. So you just settle on mumbling out a weak yeah.
"Well, you know you could always fix it by confronting him about his undying love for you." He tells you and you can’t help but snort, annoyance overcoming your trepidation. "Yeah, right. He's so heartbroken, he's going to drown his sorrows in her pussy."
“He’s just doing this because he thinks we’re still together. If he knows you’re free, I can guarantee you he’ll be dropping her so fast she won’t hit the ground before he’s on his knees for you.”
“How can you be so confident?” You ask and he shrugs. “Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.”
He walks away, leaving you to think over his words. Funny, that’s how you feel about the sight still playing out in front of you, the disgusting view getting burned into your retinas.
Deciding you needed a break, you slip away from the living room, heading towards the bathroom to wash your face off. But on the way there, you pass by your old room, stopping when you see the door slightly cracked open.
Your feet take you inside without you realizing it, compelled by curiosity to see what he’s done with the room in your absence. Has he turned it into a gaming room? Is he using it for storage? Is he letting her use it as her own? Oh, god, you really hope not. Anything but that.
But you’re surprised when you step inside and find it mostly empty except for your old mattress and a few items you must’ve forgotten during your move. A T-shirt here, a sleeping mask there–they were all strewn around on your bed with the odd piece of clothing from Beomgyu himself in the mix.
You step closer, examining the items when something in particular catches your eyes. A flash of pink under a pillow that makes you reach forward to pull it out, realizing just what it was once it’s in your hands–a pair of pink panties. Your pink panties that you’d been missing for a while. Why does Beomgyu have this? You thought he just used this because he was so pent up he needed any form of release but now Haeun is never off his dick so why does he still do this?
Could Yeonjun have been right all along?
As you continue to hold it in your hands, puzzling over it, you hear the door open and close behind you and Beomgyu’s panicky voice calling out your name.
"What are you doing in here?" He squeaks as if this wasn’t your room. Well, your old room but still. It’s not like he made any changes to it yet.
You turn to face him with the panties in your hands, silent, and his eyes grow wide as he stammers, trying to explain himself. “These are old.”
“They’re wet.” You say plainly, which means he has just used them, and he knows it too.
He scoffs, attempting to appear unaffected. As if this is just a completely reasonable situation that you’ve blown way out of proportion. “Well–it’s just–they were on hand.” He gives you what may possibly be the flimsiest excuse in history.
Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
"Did you leave these out for me to see?" You question, and he rushes to deny. "No! I just forgot to put them away."
His eyes widen again at what he just said, basically admitting that he took them from you on purpose to do with them exactly what you had in mind. God, he's such a stupid loser.
You walk towards him until you’re standing right in front of him, leaving him no room to breathe. “Make everyone leave.”
“It’s our celebratory party, I can’t just–”
You grab his hand and put it under your skirt, pressing his fingers against your warm pussy. “And I want to give you your reward. Make them leave.”
He looks at you, shocked, and suddenly you realize what you're asking of him. You're coming onto him after weeks of ignoring him. You're asking him to have sex with you when he has a girlfriend–when he thinks you have a boyfriend. Oh god.
But then he gulps and says. "Okay."
You watch from behind the door as he stops the music and kicks everyone out, telling them that he doesn’t feel good and needs to rest, and when Kai complains loudly, he asks him if he’d like to stay back and hold his hair while he vomits. That quickly convinces everyone to take the party elsewhere, even his girlfriend. But one person knows better, and you see him peeking around Beomgyu to catch your hidden eyes. You share a look before he turns around and leaves the apartment. This is it. You’re going to do this.
As soon as Beomgyu comes back, you pull him into a kiss, releasing your overflowing nerves with each frustrated and needy moan you let out against his lips. Fuck, you missed kissing him so much. His lips may not be as soft as Yeonjun’s–he may not be as good of a kisser–but god does he still make your heart sing.
“Strip.” You order when you finally tear yourself away from him, though Beomgyu doesn’t make it easy, resisting you the first couple of times you try and pulling you right back into the hungry kiss. But you finally do, and Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate to follow your cue then.
After he’s all stripped down, he looks at you, gaze speaking of his own need to devour you. “Will you strip too?”
“Do you want it?” You ask, putting on an alluring voice but deep down you were just nervous about letting him see you fully for the first time. Even though your experience with Yeonjun has made you gain confidence, you’re still insecure, especially when it comes to Beomgyu. You want to impress him. You want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. You want him to forget about her. You want him to only think of you.
Naturally, that is a lot to live up too.
Beomgyu nods enthusiastically, somehow managing to come across as adorable in this situation. “Yes, please. Take it all off.”
He tries to reach out to do it himself but you shake your head, pushing him onto the bed.
“No. We do this my way.” You tell him, and he nods again, keeping himself in check.
You reach for the zipper on your dress, hesitantly letting it fall to the floor. You aren’t wearing any bra so now you are almost nude except for your panties as you stand in front of him.
“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He takes his cock into his hand, pumping it as he leers at you. You should feel dirty having him openly masturbate to the sight of you but it makes you feel so fucking good about yourself. It’s just what you needed–for him to show you how much he wants you. “Please, take off your panties too. Wanna see your pussy.”
Despite his lewd display–or more accurately because of it–you’re given the courage to finally fully undress yourself in front of him, overcoming years of insecurities of what he’ll think of your body and any unfavorable comparisons he might make.
“Oh fuck–” He licks his lips, squeezing his cock as he stares at your pussy. “You’re perfect.”
“You think so?” You ask demurely, trying to hide your shock. Is he really telling the truth? It feels like it but you still need confirmation after years of doubting yourself.
“God, yes. Your tits are divine. I wanna suck on them and play with them all night. Your little pussy is so pretty, I wanna be buried in it forever. Come here, please, ride me, sit on my face, anything…”
Is this what you were worried about all these years? He looks pretty fucking happy with what he’s seeing. Why were you so scared? You’re so mad at yourself for wasting all this time with self-doubt when you could’ve had him long ago.
“You really need that?” You throw your panties at him, feeling more confident than ever after his proclamations. “Isn't this usually enough for you?”
“No, please, you said you’d give me a reward." He whines, distraught at the thought of you being so close but not attainable yet again. "I’ve been good.”
“Have you?” You scoff, straddling him, pressing your pussy against his cock and his body goes limp, letting you do what you want. “You’ve been nothing but a horndog, getting your rocks off wherever you can, whether it’s backstage getting sucked off by her or stealing my panties and fisting your cock with them. You’ve been such a bad boy.”
“I’m sorry.” He slurs, mouth hanging open.
"Are you? You seem to be enjoying this."
"I'm sorry." He repeats again, staring at your pussy as it moves forwards and backwards over his cock, covering it in your slick.
"You're fucking hopeless, Beomgyu. You'd do anything to get a piece of me, huh?"
"Yes." He nods eagerly, "Can you sit on my face?"
You laugh, climbing up his body until you’re hovering over his face and digging your fingers in his hair to keep his head down so he wouldn’t make any unwanted moves before you’re ready. "Is my pussy the only thing on your empty brain?"
"Uh-huh." He says dumbly, almost going cross eyes with the way he's staring at your pussy. You fucking love it. This is what you needed–to be needed. And Beomgyu gives it all to you without you even asking for it.
"Good boy." You tell him and he shoots you a searing look at that–at you finally calling him that again–before you sit down on his face.
You try not to put too much weight on him, not wanting to hurt him but Beomgyu has other ideas. He grabs your ass and pulls you down on his ready mouth, tongue flicking out to give eager licks to your already wet pussy.
"Bad–bad boy–" You hiss, pulling at his hair but he won't let go, too intent on eating you out, nuzzling his whole lower face into your pussy, his tongue and lips alternating between long messy licks and needy sucking motions, his nose brushing against your clit every now and then in his fervor.
"Fuck, Beomgyu slow down."
But that word isn't in Beomgyu's dictionary, not when he's wanted this for so long. His fingers dig into your ass, making sure you can’t escape as his tongue presses inside your hole, flicking around as much as he can while your pussy flutters around it.
"So good–tastes so good." He slurs, drool and your juices covering his lower face but he doesn’t even care. In fact if anything it turns him on if his hard, leaking cock that you see when you throw a glance backwards is anything to go by.
"You fucking the air, Beommie?" You pant, not faring much better than him but needing to tease him anyway. "Need my pussy this bad?"
But Beomgyu can't be teased. Not when he's so shameless.
"Yes. Will you sit on my cock?"
"How bad do you need it?" You sit up, pulling away from him and cutting off strings of your combined need.
"So bad. Feels like I might die without it."
"You sound like a horny fuckboy, Beommie. You know I only like good boys." You chastise, and Beomgyu shoots back, "Is that why you’re dating a whore?"
You growl, sinking back on his face, this time not caring so much about your weight over him. "Don't talk about Yeonjun like that."
He turns his face to the side to nip at your thigh in protest so you just straighten his head again and sit down on him fully, not allowing him any space to move. "You know the only whore here is you. So stick your tongue out like a good whore and let me ride it or I'll leave your dirty cock all red and weeping."
He whines in fear, sticking his tongue out for you, not daring to risk it. You move yourself over him, grinding your pussy over his tongue as he stares up at you pleadingly.
“You like it, baby? You like me using you to get off?”
He moans out in response, not having any other way to communicate his agreement and not willing to pull away from you. But you hear a wet noise coming from behind you and you look back to see him fisting his cock, clearly excited by it all. He wants this as much as you do. He has been begging for it for so long, and so you’re not so cruel as to make him take his hand away, but you need to make sure your excitement doesn’t end too soon.
“Fuck, you really wanted this, huh? Can’t help yourself whenever you get a taste of this pussy?” You tease, and he whines again, his cock thrusting into his own fist pitifully. “But don’t get too excited. You want to feel this pussy around you, don’t you?”
The needy noises he keeps letting out vibrate against your pussy, driving you even wilder as you pull on his hair harshly and desperately grind yourself on his tongue, your high so close you could taste it.
“Good boy, gonna make me cum… you want it? Want me to cum all of that pretty face?” You growl, and his hands leave his cock to grab your ass, pressing you so tightly against him, you worry that he won’t be able to breathe.
But Beomgyu clearly loves it. He wants you to do it. He moves your hips so you’re fucking his face harder, faster, all while those slutty eyes of his never leave your face.
“I’m cumming–fuck, Beommie… good boy–” You scream, shuddering as you cum over him. But as you stop moving, paralyzed by the intense orgasm, he starts moving his tongue, lapping up every drop you let out, giving your pussy open mouthed filthy kisses as he wraps his lips around you and eagerly sticks his tongue into your hole to get even more.
You have to pull away from him when it becomes too much, and Beomgyu chases after you, not having had his fill yet somehow. He's still so needy that he ends up pushing you down and laying over you, his lips incessant against yours as his cock lays heavy on your pussy.
You tug on his hair, finally detaching his lips from yours. "That's enough, Beomgyu."
“I made you cum.” He says in a daze, a stupid smile on his face.
“Yes, you did.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb before sticking it in his mouth, letting him suck on it. It’s useless of course. The entire bottom half of his face was glistening with your cum. Not that you were actually trying to clean him up. You liked seeing him covered in you too much. “Ready for your reward, baby?”
“Fuck, yes, please.” He groans, his hips bucking up against you, gliding his cock against your wet pussy. "Wanna fuck you so bad. Can I put it in now?"
"Are you gonna keep being a good boy for me? Gonna listen to my instructions and not let your cock take over your dumb brain and make you hump me like a dog?"
He shakes his head even though he was literally humping you right now. "I'll listen. I'll be so good."
"Okay, Beommie. You can put it in–slowly!"
He rushes to push his cock inside your pussy, only stopping when it's all the way inside you. "Oh god–I'm finally inside you. Wanted it for so long."
This is exactly what you had been missing. This is what you needed that Yeonjun wasn't able to give to you. Beomgyu isn't shy when expressing how much he wants you. He'll beg and plead until you give it to him.
"Can I move, baby?" He asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back.
You nod. "Go ahead. But slowly."
He makes a valiant effort, pulling his hips back and thrusting in slowly, shuddering every time his cock is fully enveloped by your pussy.
“Good?" You ask as if his mouth wasn't hung open, as if his eyes weren't all hazy, as if he wasn't holding onto you for dear life.
"So good. Can't believe I'm fucking you."
Neither can you. You had really begun to lose hope but here you are, laid on your back with Beomgyu fucking you, following your instruction as best he could–the strain of it obvious on his face. It's everything you wanted and you finally have it.
"Can I touch your tits?" He pleads, giving you his classic puppy eyes and you smile. "Go ahead, honey."
He groans, reaching out and cupping them in his hands. "Oh god. Missed them." He leans down and attaches his lips to them, biting and kissing all over them as his hips pick up speed.
"Beomgyu…" You warn, pulling on his hair. He fights against you, looking up but not detaching from your tits. "Don't get ahead of yourself now. You want me to feel good too, don't you?"
He nods, his face still firmly buried in your lips but finally letting go of your nipple to moan out, "Yes, wanna make you feel better than anyone else."
His own words rile him up and he bites down on the skin next to your areola, making sure not to hurt you but still expressing his frustration.
"You're such a bratty baby." You scold him, but in reality you love it. You love how possessive and needy he is acting. It doesn't allow a single negative or insecure thought to enter your mind. How could it when he's so obvious about his need for you? "You can go faster now, baby."
"Oh, thank you." He groans, hips picking up speed.
"Better, honey?" You pant, brushing his wet hair out of his face so you can fully see how lost he is in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.
"So much better. Never wanna stop." He leans down, kissing you harshly, lips opening and closing around yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth hungrily. His hands grab at your thighs, pushing them against your body as he goes even faster, a constant stream of whines and whimpers released into your mouth.
You force yourself to sober up despite the smoldering fire breaking out in your body from the way he's fucking you so good. You want him to keep going. You want him to keep fucking you until your mind has turned to mush and your limbs have turned to jelly. But you can’t let him have it this easily. You can't let him get away with the amount of pain and suffering he has caused you. He needs to feel it too, even if just a fraction of it. He needs to feel the longing and despair he has made you feel for so long.
"Slow down." You order, pulling his head away from you, doing it extra mean just the way he likes it.
"No, no, please." He cries, not slowing down. "Please… I thought this was a reward. You’re driving me crazy."
"Do you want me to push you down and tie your hand to the headboard to make sure you behave?" You threaten, trying to keep your voice under control against the incessant thrusts of his cock into your poor pussy. "It's only gonna be worse for you."
"No. No. Wanna keep touching you." He blabbers, hands groping at every inch of you he could reach, worried you'd make good on your threats.
"Then be good." You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls on your nipples before kneading the soft flesh.
"I will. I'm your good boy, right?" He slurs, his hips slowing down.
Damn, he's really addicted to hearing you say that, huh?
"Yes, you are. You’re my best boy." You coo, stroking his soft hair and he nuzzles into your hand like a puppy, seeking any form of contact with you.
"Thank you." He groans, fingers digging into your skin as he tries to hold himself back, his poor cock screaming at him to just take you like he wants. "So pretty. Look so pretty getting fucked."
"Yeah? Is it how you imagined it when you'd fuck my panties?" You ask but once again Beomgyu has no shame, his hips faltering at the reminder of his debauched actions.
"Better. So pretty. So tight. Could stay in your cunt forever." He almost drools at the thought, and you really believe he'd love to do just that.
"Dirty boy. Dirty little boy going all dumb for me." You stroke his face lovingly and he peers at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, please, hurts… can I go faster?"
"Aw, poor pup, do you need to hammer your cock into my pussy that bad?" You scold, giving his face light slaps.
"Uh-huh… will make you feel good. I promise." He babbles, his hips already going faster as if he's sure you'll give him permission.
"No." This may or may not be the one and only time you get to fuck him. You need to savor it. "Slow down."
Your hands go to his hips, clawing at his skin to slow down his thrusts and he relents, albeit begrudgingly. "You're so mean."
"But you love it." You laugh at his tearful pout. "God, you love it so much you can't stop shaking your hips like a whore. It's like you've never been fucked before.”
"I haven't. You’re my first.” He admits, knocking any remaining breath out of your lungs.
This is his first time. He and Haeun never did it? What the fuck?
"Did you let him fuck you?" He asks, and you stay silent. He knows you’ve fucked Yeonjun. There is no way he thinks you live with Yeonjun and aren’t fucking him. But then again, he hasn’t fucked Haeun, and you were so sure that he did.
"Did you?" He asks again, an edge to his voice and you nod minutely. "I didn't know. I thought you and Haeun–"
Beomgyu's whole face changes. "God, you're such a slut. Fucking two men at the same time."
You immediately get defensive. Yeonjun was your boyfriend. You had dated for months. You’re not a whore for fucking him. It would be more understandable if he’s referring to the fact (or what he thinks is a fact) of you fucking him when you have a boyfriend, but you’re almost certain that’s not what he’s upset about. He’s just jealous you’ve fucked Yeonjun at all. "Just because she won't let you put it in, doesn't make me a slut."
That just angers him more, and he practically bends you in half as his dick pumps in and out of you at a brutal pace, his anger at what you’ve done making him lose it, not caring about your instructions anymore. "I hate you."
You laugh, fighting hard to hide the pain his statement elicits in your gut as well as to keep your voice steady as he practically plows his cock into you. God, he makes you so mad but he’s fucking you so good.
"But you sure love my pussy."
"My pussy." He growls, catching you off guard once again. He bends his head down to kiss your neck harshly, and can already feel the marks blooming there under his teeth. "Mine. Not his. All mine."
"What?” You sputter. Is this it? Is this how he confesses to you? “Beomgyu, what–”
"Shut up." He smacks your ass, not willing to hear your protests right now. "You've played with me long enough. Now be good and take it."
Played with him? What the hell is he talking about? You’ve never played with him. But any attempt to get a sane answer out of him right now is useless as the sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room and Beomgyu latches his mouth onto yours, trying to dominate you in a way he has never attempted to do before–as if he’s trying to prove that you really are his.
And you are. He may not know it but you’ve always been his.
But his strong facade is paper-thin and you can see right through it to the insecure boy below when he pulls back to look at you. “Fuck, why did you have to be so pretty?”
“Make me cum, Beommie.” You murmur, moving a hand between your bodies to rest over your pussy, your middle and index fingers on either side of his cock as it fucks into you. “Do you feel how wet I am for you? I’m soaking the bed, baby.”
“Fuck…” He pulls your hand away, taking a look at how wet it has become already before he grunts and pushes one of your thighs against the bed to allow space for his own hand between your bodies, quickly finding your pussy to rub your clit.
“Oh… oh, fuck… baby…” You gasp, back arching as you’re quickly hurled towards your orgasm. “That’s it, honey. Make me cum on your big cock.”
He groans, his hips stuttering as your pussy begins to clench around him. “Don’t talk like that. Gonna make me lose it.”
“It riles you up when I talk dirty to you? Tell you how good you're fucking me?”
He nods.
“Dirty boy.” You moan out for him, “Do it. Empty that cock inside me. Want my pussy dripping with you.”
“Holy s-shit,” Beomgyu cries, and you feel his cum shooting inside of you, his hips not stopping for a second. And though his thrusts become erratic, his thumb keeps up its assault on your clit until your pussy is clamping down on his cock and milking the last drops of cum from him. “Good girl. My good girl.”
He fucks you through your orgasm, babbling on about how pretty you are and how well you took it. He looks so fucking pathetic with his shiny eyes and needy whimpers that before you even know it, he’s ripping another orgasm out of your already fucked out body.
“Goddammit, Beomgyu…” You squeal, toes curling at the very intense second orgasm, your body shuddering with the unexpected sharp waves of pleasure racking through it. And through it all, Beomgyu continues fucking you. You can feel his cock begin to harden once again inside you, and as the brutal second orgasm leaves your body, you wince at the overstimulation, putting your hands against his sweaty chest and starting to push him away.
“That’s enough, Beomgyu. I can’t take any more.”
But he resists you, shaking his head. “One more. Please, one more.”
“No.” You tell him firmly, “Don’t be bad. Pull out.”
He searches your face for any hint of leniency, his big pretty eyes trying to convince you to change your mind but you can’t. He’s fucked you so hard, your poor pussy requires a much needed rest.
You both watch as he slowly pulls out, his once again hard cock glistening with your cum and his, his seed dripping down your ass now that he wasn’t plugging your pussy up.
“Oh, baby, does that hurt?” You coo, grabbing his cock. He lets out a sigh of relief as you begin stroking it. “Yeah. So bad.”
The little shit is milking this, but you play along. “Poor baby. Let me make it go away.” You grin, suddenly speeding up, the slide of your hand so easy when his cock is well-lubricated. You make sure to maintain your position, with him hovering over your splayed open body so he can rake his eyes over it, and you clearly seeing him struggling to choose where to look between your tits that jiggle as you jerk him off quickly, the cum leaking out of your puffy pussy, and your swollen lips as you swipe your tongue over them.
It doesn’t take long for you to have him spilling his seed again, landing on your tummy as he doubles over and buries his head in your neck.
“That’s it, good boy.” You praise him, using your free hand to stroke his long hair that you love so much.
You let him lay there for a whole, catching his breath that is so irregular and stuttered that you almost don’t notice when he starts crying if it wasn’t for the hot tears falling on your skin.
“Beomgyu?” You call out, and a heart-breaking sob breaks out of his chest.
"Please, come back to me." He croaks against your neck.
"What?" You sit up, making him sit up with you and pulling his face away from your shoulder so you can look at him, your heart sinking at the tears streaming down his face. "I can't fucking bear seeing you with him any longer. It hurts so much."
Oh fuck.
"Beomgyu… Yeonjun isn't–" You try to explain that you and Yeonjun had broken up but he cuts you off.
"It's not him, it's you!" He shouts, "I love you and I can't bear it any longer. And I know it's selfish and that you don't love me back, at least not in that way, but then you keep messing with me."
He loves you? He really loves you?
"But I thought you loved Haeun?" You need to know what exactly is happening with him and Haeun first.
"I thought I did too but whenever I'm with her, I find myself thinking of you. You’re always in my head, it ruins every moment I have with her. She hates you too, you know? She can't stand how much I love you. The reason we haven't fucked is not because she won't put out. It's because I only want you. I didn't want to lose it to anyone else but you."
"Beomgyu–"
"But you don’t fucking care. You just see me as your disgusting best friend who you can play with and push away when you're done with him and I can't even bring myself to hate you for it. That's how much I love you. So just please… please give me a break."
“You think I was playing with you?” The idea seems absurd to you. How can he possibly think that? You've done everything in your power to not show how much you love him but never in your wildest dreams would you think that would mean he would see it as you playing with him.
“Weren’t you? I mean the way you spoke to me… you always pushed me away. I had to beg each time for you to even kiss me.” He peers at you, pain and vulnerability shining in his eyes as he recalls the way you treated him.
Fuck, you've been so obsessed with not letting your love for him show that you've done the same thing to him you thought he was doing to you. Knowing that pain all too well, you can’t bear the thought of being the cause of it.
You grab his face in your hands and kiss him, intending to pour out your own feelings the same way he did, hoping to staunch the flood of heartbreak you’re witnessing and calm him down enough for him to realize you feel the same way.
But his reaction wasn't what you expected. He breaks down crying. "You're so cruel."
"No, no! I love you too!" Your hands are in a flurry around his face, wiping his tears, stroking his hair, caressing his cheeks, anything to calm him down.
"What? This is not funny." He sobs, looking like a wounded animal. Your heart aches at the sight.
"No, fuck, I've loved you for years! The whole friends with benefits thing I started was just an excuse to have a way to be with you."
He stares at you in utter shock, the confusion the only thing stopping his tears from drowning you. "But you never even hinted that you liked me. You called me all kinds of names, freak, disgusting, pervert…"
"I thought you liked these..." You trail off sheepishly.
"I did but it still makes a guy think.” He mumbles, his fingers playing with yours nervously. “You wouldn’t let me touch you or kiss you."
"I was afraid if I let you kiss me, I wouldn't want you to stop. And I didn’t want you to touch me because I was afraid you wouldn’t like what you saw." It sounds so silly now that you're saying it out loud–now that you know he loves you and has wanted you just as badly.
"That's stupid. I had already seen it all." He tells you casually and you frown. "When?"
"You don't always shut the door when you're changing." He shrugs.
"Pervert!" You gasp, hitting him with no real power behind it. "What about you? You never hinted at anything either. You only ever talked about my body."
"Well, it did start just physical but I quickly realized that I'm in love with you. Then I kept only mentioning your body because you'd freak out on me whenever I hinted at anything else."
"Fair." You pout, realizing you’ve done as much to hurt yourself as he did.
"I didn't want to let it show that I loved you because I was so afraid you'd pull away like you did a couple of times. And then you were with Yeonjun and it fucking killed me so I had to pretend it was just sexual."
"Oh god, that's exactly what I've been doing.” You cover your face with your hands, mortified at your stupidity. We're fucking dumbasses."
“Yes, we are.” He replies fondly, taking your hands away from your face so you can look at him, refusing to let you hide anymore. "So you'll break up with him and be with me?"
"We broke up a while back.” You admit sheepishly. “He said he can't be with me when you and I are clearly in love with each other."
“So let me get this straight, Yeonjun could tell we love each other but somehow we, the two people involved, didn’t have a clue?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you nod. “I think it’s safe to say we won’t be winning any genius awards anytime soon.”
“We could win the biggest dumbasses award though.” He cracks a smile, pulling you close to him and resting his forehead against yours.
“No one could even compete.” You grin, kissing him. He immediately deepens the kiss, frantic and hungry still.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Beommie. We have all the time in the world.” You tease as if you weren’t just as needy, making him whine. “I can’t help it. You made me yearn for so long.”
“Yearn? Oh, that’s bad. I made you use the word yearn.”
He yanks your legs up, sending the rest of your body flying backwards and hitting the mattress, your loud giggles quickly covered by his mouth as he kisses you harshly, his teeth biting down on your lips in annoyance when you still don’t stop laughing.
“Stop it.” He whines in defeat as he pulls back, and you try to keep your giggles under control, his pout is entirely too devastating to look at.
"Are you gonna break up with her?" You ask and he doesn't hesitate to say, "Of course."
That makes you smile, happy with how easily he chose you, but then a thought pops into your mind and you frown. "You know, I hated her but I still feel kinda bad for fucking you behind her back." You really do. You've never condoned cheating, even if it was on someone as vile as Haeun.
"Oh you mean the same way she fucked the whole football team?" He counters and you gape at him, "God damn. Why did you even stay with her for that long?"
He shrugs. "Needed a distraction. And to not come across as a loser in front of you. I mean you were with Yeonjun. I couldn't just be alone."
"Oh, honey…" You coo, but anything you planned to say is suddenly forgotten as you feel his cock pressing against your entrance.
"Beommie!" You squeak. “What are you doing?”
"You thought we were done? You spread your legs for my bandmate. I'm gonna have to look at him every day knowing he had you first. I gotta make sure you and everyone else knows who exactly you belong to."
It may not be the most healthy coping mechanism, but you’ll let him have it for now. You’re sure you wouldn't be very happy if you were in his position either. Besides, getting to fuck Beomgyu isn’t exactly what you would consider a punishment.
_________
A/N: Click here for the Yeonjun ending on Patreon.
Also for my patreons, you could suggest a scene from gyu's pov and I'll choose one. There will also most likely be some drabbles about oc and gyu's life after the ending (mostly smut featuring our favorite desperate boy lol) and some will be released on tumblr and others will be exclusive to patreon.
Patreons may also suggest a continuation of a previous fic/drabble. I will do my best to release at least something monthly on there.
Taglist: @blxxsss@sanasour@tinkw1nks@lol6sposts@zuzuhasablog@beomsl@seolis-world@stantxtorurmissingout@wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno@leviathanlee26@yomomas-stuff@kurisaiyunobara@girlwholovekpop@zuzuhasablog@viaaasdiary@ho3forkpop@skzvcr@th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop
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3 with james potter pretty please <333
3. “Tell me to leave and I’ll never bother you again.”
.
James Potter fucked up.
He wasn’t exactly sure how he had fucked up, but he knew he fucked up monumentally when you came down for breakfast, slumped down a few seats away from him and totally blanked him.
He played it off as a rough morning at first. After all, you were never a morning person and you seemed pleased enough with him last night when you sat curled under a blanket with him as your friends laughed and joked around you into the early hours of the morning.
He was clearly just overreacting.
But then your shared potions class after lunch came around and you still weren’t talking to him. You weren’t talking to anyone.
“You must’ve done something to piss her off,” Sirius said to him, watching as his best friend slumped back against the grass as he glared above at the cloudless sky.
“No shit,” James grumbled.
“Have you tried talking to her?” Remus asked, propped on his elbows with the book he was previously reading abandoned to the side.
“Well…no,” James murmured, clearing his throat a little when Sirius snorted. “But she won’t even look at me!”
“And how will poor Prongs ever live on when his little girlfriend won’t even smile at him,” Sirius teased, reaching over to poke his cheek only for James to bat his hand away.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” the boy whined helplessly, though both boys sitting next to him knew well enough how much James wished that weren’t true. He just hadn’t quite gained the courage to ask you out yet—how truly Gryffindor of him.
“Just ask her, mate,” Remus suggested with a shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
James established that there were at least three outcomes that could come from asking you, and each was just as bad as the last. One: you wouldn’t even acknowledge his question. Two: you would hex him and then go back to pretending he didn’t exist. Three: you would laugh at the fact he even cared to ask, hex him and then go back to pretending he didn’t exist.
Each left James completely unsatisfied with your sudden distance and a bitter taste in his mouth at the mere idea he may lose you. And despite all these outcomes racing through his head, James still found himself standing outside your dorm, muttering to himself before he bit the bullet and knocked.
It took thirty seconds for you to open the door and they had to be the longest thirty seconds of his life. However, when you did open the door, James barely gave you a chance to properly take in who was even standing across from you before he began rambling.
“Listen, I totally get that you might hate my guts right now and that maybe you wanna hex me but I just need to say this before I lose the chance because it would kill me if you didn’t know that I am so sorry for whatever I have done to make you try avoid me or whatever else it is—”
“James.”
“—but I really like you and this is totally not the time to say it, like at all even and I just—”
“James.”
“—I really wanted you to know that if there is any chance you could forgive me or even tell me what I did so I can rectify it—”
“JAMES!”
The boy stopped suddenly, his cheeks burning red as he took in your expression for the first time and held back his wince. “Tell me to leave and I’ll never bother you again. I promise.”
“What are you going on about?” you asked, still feeling bleary and fuzzy from the nap you were taking minutes ago, and not finding much help in the annoyingly bright torches in the corridor.
“I–” James cleared his throat. “You were angry with me today and I just wanna tell you I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done.”
Your brows furrowed together. “James, I’m not angry with you.”
He blinked. “You’re not?”
“No, I’m not,” you sighed.
“But…you ignored me all day,” he murmured, looking a bit like a kicked puppy with his pouted lips.
“I didn’t mean to,” you explained, feeling your face softening and your annoyance from him waking you up quickly melting away. “I just…I woke up with a migraine and it wasn’t getting any better no matter what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, James.”
His lips parted with a soft ‘oh’.
“If it’s any consolation, I was ignoring everyone,” you offered with a weak smile.
“That’s good,” James nodded, eyes widening when he realised what he said and quickly scrambled to take back his word. “Not about the migraine! Not that at all! I just meant….fuck, love, I meant about you not being angry at me—”
“James,” you called softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” James asked helplessly.
“Cuddle with me?” you asked in a sweet voice that he could never say no to. “I was trying to take a nap but it would help if I had a wizard who’s always ridiculously hot laying beside me.”
James grinned. “You think I’m hot, love?”
“I take it back. I can nap myself.”
“No take-backs, sweetheart. Now budge over, I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you.”
.
#james potter#marauders#harry potter#hp#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders oneshot#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter oneshot#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot
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