#good comments are also fuel for new fics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

navybrat817 · 3 months

Text

Like There's No Tomorrow

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: When you make a rash decision after you're passed over for a promotion again, Bucky encourages you to follow your dream. It's the start of an unforgettable journey. Word Count: Over 3.4k Warnings: Insecurities, impulsivity, reflecting, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best, okay?). A/N: Writing this was very personal and therapeutic after my recent work experience. While I can't actually live this life, I know Firecracker and Daredevil will have many adventures together. Also for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love Challenge (Ludus - Road Trip / Surprise)❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for the encouragement and @buckyownsmylife for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You quit your job on a Friday afternoon.

On paper, it appeared to be an ordinary day. Nothing different from your usual routine. You got up, brushed your teeth, showered, dressed yourself, gave your boyfriend a kiss, selected a caffeinated beverage, and got to work. While you wouldn't call your job your dream job and some of the tasks were monotonous, you were good at it and you cared about your teammates.

In fact, they were one of the reasons you stuck around for as long as you did.

“Just wanted to say you've done a lot for us and we wouldn't be where we are without you.”

“I’m so sorry. I hope this doesn’t get you down.”

“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.”

“For what it’s worth, they made a mistake.”

Tears filled your eyes as you looked through the messages a few of your teammates sent after the promotion announcement was made minutes ago. There was an overall mixture of surprise and confusion when they heard you didn’t get it. They knew how hard you worked to move up and how badly you wanted it. You wished you hadn’t gotten your hopes up since that usually led to disappointment.

Of course, you were happy for the candidate who got the job. It wasn’t their fault you didn’t advance. Their success called for celebration. It didn’t make it any easier for you though and it didn’t lessen the hurt that you were passed over once again for something you were more than qualified for.

You somehow held it together though, not wanting everyone around you to see you break. Crying was reserved for the bathroom, your car, and home. Plus, you had shown enough vulnerability to management during the lengthy process and aftermath. They didn’t deserve an ounce more.

Especially after you were told that the value you provided wasn’t enough.

“I know this outcome is disappointing, but this isn’t a setback. You still have a lot to be proud of,” your manager told you the day before when you received the email entailing that you didn't receive the promotion and why. “Take the feedback we’ve given you and use that to get to the next level next time.”

He was only trying to help, but who would want to try again when they’re told they aren’t enough more than once? If the intention was to fuel your fire, they snuffed it out. Then again, your feelings were so raw because you hadn’t given yourself enough time to digest the news. Being told you were just out of reach was salt in the open wound, stinging much more than it should have as you tried to figure out what you did wrong.

Because you had to have done something wrong, right? Were the words you wrote in your application not eloquent enough? Did you not display the right amount of confidence in your interview? Why were you always on the cusp of greatness, but never quite there?

Blinking the moisture from your eyes, you straightened up and began to type again. Personal feelings aside, you had a job to do. You needed the income. You also had to prove that they were wrong in overlooking you. Again.

But as the sound of your fingers flying across the keyboard became white noise in your head, Bucky’s words from earlier in the morning shimmered into your mind.

“Just quit, Firecracker. They don’t deserve you and you deserve better.”

Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend. The kind of man you didn’t think was real until he came into your life. Gorgeous, faithful, doting, protective - you thought men like that only existed in books. He supported and hyped you up every time you went for a promotion and wiped away every tear when you didn’t get it. Your crying and self-doubt broke his heart and this morning may have been the last straw for him.

Maybe it was the last straw for you, too.

Glancing around the office as you saw everyone else typing with minimal conversation, the room had never looked more lifeless to you. There was nothing about the place or the job that inspired you, so why continue to give yourself over to a place that didn’t give back to you in return? Why stay in a place that dulled your shine?

The sudden realization hit you square in your chest that you didn’t want to be there anymore.

“Have a great weekend, team. Good luck and thanks for everything.” You sent in a message before you could stop yourself.

You had never had an out-of-body experience before, but it was as if your spirit was beside you as you began to close the programs on your computer. Glancing at your desk after you set your phone to voicemail, you realized you had hardly any personal touches in your space. Except for the photo of you and Bucky.

He was your one bright spot in the building.

With the utmost care, you put the photo in your bag once you shut everything down. Your heart sank as your gaze swept over your team, an uncomfortable pit settling in your stomach as you went to see your boss. Disappointing anyone always brought you a sense of dread and you didn’t want to let him or anyone else down, but you were thinking of yourself for once.

You owed yourself that.

“Hey,” your boss smiled as he glanced up from his desk before he noticed you had your bag. You shifted on your feet when his cheerfulness shifted to concern. “What’s up? Are you clocking out early?”

“Not exactly,” you answered, gripping your bag so hard your hand began to ache.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.

You didn’t know how to respond because it wasn’t okay and nothing he could say or do would change how you felt. You didn't want him to try and sway you to stay. The heartbreaking part was that he was, overall, a good boss. He taught you a lot and helped you better yourself. So did the team as a whole. They were rock stars. Each and every one of them.

But now they weren’t enough to make you stay and maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you didn’t go anywhere with your job.

So with a bittersweet smile, you uttered, “I quit. I’m sorry.”

You tossed your building key onto his desk and turned away before he could reply. Your mind raced as you put one foot in front of the other and ignored the stares of your coworkers who caught on to what had just transpired. It was hard to breathe, but your steps for once felt light instead of heavy. Your boss may have called out for you, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when you couldn’t stay in there another minute.

What you didn’t expect was for Bucky to be waiting outside as you went out of the door.

Your boyfriend managed to take your breath away every time you saw him and today was no exception. All 6’4” of him, he decided to cover his beefy frame with one of his favorite leather jackets, a fitting shirt, and tight jeans. His stormy eyes zeroed in on you as he pushed away from his old pickup truck and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. He was stunning.

He was yours.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you blurted out as you raced toward him. “Get me out of here. Please.”

But why was he there? You didn’t plan to meet up with him until after work and your shift was only a little over halfway over. Did he want to surprise you?

He caught you easily with his large hands before you could stumble into him. “Whoa, easy. Get in,” he said, opening the passenger door and helping you in. Your hands trembled as you buckled yourself in, your body in flight mode because you had to get away from the office. He wasted no time getting in and peeling out of the parking lot, the building becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

You weren’t even sure how far away he drove before he pulled over and stopped the car since you didn’t look behind you. Resting your shaking hands on your thighs, the high of walking out dissipated until it left you cold. Reality sank in. Would it pull you under?

“Talk to me,” Bucky urged, his voice calm and gentle instead of demanding. “Please?”

“I quit my job,” you whispered, your gaze set in front of you, but not seeing anything in focus. “I couldn't do it anymore.”

Bucky leaned over to turn your face toward him, sympathy and understanding filling his eyes. “Oh, baby, I knew today would be the tipping point. Waited most of the morning for you to walk out,” he said. You were about to question how he could possibly know that, but he could read you better than anyone. “Just a feeling I had.”

“I quit my job. I quit,” you said again, your breathing more shallow than before he engulfed you in a warm and grounding embrace. Your fingers twisted in his jacket as you breathed him in. Sandalwood and citrus were scents you now associated with love because of him. “What did I do?! I didn’t even give notice. I just tossed my card down and left. Fuck, I just burned my bridges with everyone there.”

You stifled a sob as you hid your face in his neck. You swore to yourself that you would never be that person who walks out on a job, but you did just that and screwed over your entire team. Would any of them understand why you did it or accept an apology? How long would it take for that guilt to go away since you essentially gave up after the words of kindness and encouragement they gave you?

“Breathe, baby. I’ve got you” he whispered, rubbing your back as you steadied yourself. “Yeah, you quit today. And maybe you burned a bridge, maybe not. But I couldn’t be fucking prouder of you.”

“You’re proud that I walked out on my team?” You asked, whipping your head up so fast you were lucky you didn’t get whiplash. “They don’t deserve to deal with that. Not to mention, I have nothing lined up.”

The thought of starting over again made your stomach drop again. The job market could be a terrifying and hopeless place. What if you couldn’t find anything? Or what if you burned through your savings by the time you did?

“I’m proud that you walked away from something keeping you down. After everything you’ve done for them, I’m sure most of them will get why you couldn’t do it anymore,” he assured you, the corners of his lips turning down when you sniffled. “And don't worry about not having something lined up. We'll figure it out.”

“We?” You questioned. Bucky was your boyfriend, but this wasn’t his problem.

“Yeah, we,” he said, pointing between the two of you with his forefinger. “You and me. I'm in this with you.”

Your heart melted before logic tried to take back over. “I should just go back there and apologize. I can say that I-”

He framed your face and pressed his warm lips to yours before you could say another word. He coaxed you to return the kiss with ease and you responded with parted lips and a sigh. His kisses left you lightheaded as sparks ignited, threatening to explode if you went much further. Which was why he stopped to let you catch your breath.

“No. You’re not doing that,” he said, his scruff tickling your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He knew that was a weakness of yours and it instantly stopped you from arguing. “We're going on an adventure and we can’t do that if you’re chained to a desk.”

“An adventure?” You repeated with uncertainty.

“Yeah. We’re going to drive and see where it takes us,” he said, his lips touching your forehead once more before he started up the car again. “Just need to grab a couple of things before we go.”

“What about work for you?”

“It’s taken care of,” he assured you. He wasn’t the type of guy to lie, but when did he have time to plan this? Neither one of you had mentioned going anywhere.

Leave it to Bucky to do something impulsive to make you happy.

“Okay,” you said, trusting him and deciding to play along with his endeavor. “You said we need a couple of things. What do we need? Besides the essentials.”

“Your laptop. And a journal if you don't feel like typing.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. My laptop so I can apply for new jobs and pray that they don’t reach out to my now previous boss as a reference, right?”

“Oh, no,” he chuckled, a playful smirk on his face when you swung your head toward him. “The laptop is so you can write like you've always wanted to. And the journal if you prefer to write some of your thoughts and ideas down by hand.”

“Wait. You want me to write on this trip?” You asked, making sure you heard him correctly.

“Yeah, I do.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your boyfriend was certifiably crazy, but you loved that about him. “Bucky, no. I can't just write,” you said.

“Why not?” He shrugged.

“Because it doesn't pay the bills or provide security,” you replied.

Writing was a silly hobby that you did from time to time to help you channel your emotions or escape from the real world. At best, it was a dream. Nothing more. He knew that. At least, you thought he knew that.

At the end of the day, it wouldn’t put a roof over your head or food in your stomach. How were you expected to hold onto dreams that wouldn’t take you anywhere? And at what point did you stop believing in them and yourself?

When did you start thinking so cynically?

“But working a job you're not passionate about just to provide safety is the better option? There’s a difference between doing something you love and doing something you’re good at when your heart isn’t in it. You’ve done the latter for years now,” He said with a huff as you inhaled. “That isn't living and you’re lying to yourself if you think it is.”

Your eyes narrowed as his words sank in, your shackles raising. “No, it isn’t living, but it’s the most practical thing I can do! And, yeah, I am good at my job because I worked my ass off!” You argued, taking a breath. You didn’t want to start crying or snap at him when he was right. “Or at least I was good at my job. And I would’ve done my best had I advanced, but I couldn’t even accomplish that.”

Which begged the question of why you applied. The higher title and pay would’ve been nice for recognition and comfortability. You believed you earned it. But was it what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Was that your path when you looked toward your future?

You hadn’t taken into account your own desires and values.

“Hey,” he said softer than before. “I wasn’t trying to-”

“And say I do try and write for real. How can I even enjoy this adventure knowing I'm probably just going to fail again?” You asked in a small voice.

How many hits could you take before your armor cracked?

Bucky's jaw clenched. “And that's exactly why I'm glad you finally quit. You've had so many people over your head telling you that what you do isn't enough to achieve what you want. And now you believe it,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough that you feared he’d bend it with his strength. “Fuck that and fuck them for making you feel that way.”

Your mouth fell open as you stared, his fury for and defense of you making your chest tighten. “I…”

“Why can’t you be a writer, huh? Why not try? You’re talented and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. That’s where your heart is and it shows with every word,” He pressed, knowing you put your whole self into your creative outlet. “And, listen, we have money set aside for the time being and more than enough for this excursion. So I don’t care if writing doesn’t pay the bills for a while as long as you’re happy and doing what you’re passionate about. We’ll have each other and that’s enough in my eyes.”

Contemplating his words, you had to give him credit. The job wasn’t something you did because you were passionate about it. You did it because it was safe and expected of you when in many ways it held you back. Besides, what did you have to lose at this point? If you didn’t try, you’d never know. You’d look back one day and regret it if you let the chance pass you by.

Why not do something impulsive?

Why not make the most out of the moment you were in?

“Okay. You’re right. I should try to write and we should go,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Let’s grab a few things and see where this trip takes us.”

“There she is,” he smiled over at you, making your heart swell. “There’s my Firecracker.”

The nickname would always warm your heart. “You know, this actually sounds a bit like that book idea I had the other day,” you said, excitement seeping through your veins. Your fingers twitched a bit, too, with the urge to write. “Do you remember? I told you about it while we were eating pizza.”

Bucky took one hand from the steering wheel to grab yours. “I remember everything you've ever said.”

“Flattery will get you everything, Daredevil,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “So, we're really doing this. We're just leaving?”

“Not just leaving. We're taking a long overdue road trip," he says, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “You deserve it.”

“We both do,” you said, the uncertainty leaving your body more with each passing second. You even turned off your phone so you wouldn’t be tempted to look at any emails or messages. “We deserve to live today like there’s no tomorrow.”

“‘Like there’s no tomorrow’,” Bucky quoted back to you with a hum. “Sounds like a good book title.’

“I’ll have to write it down so I don’t forget,” you smiled, linking your fingers together. “And don’t forget your journal, too. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”

“I won’t forget it,” he promised.

“Bucky?” You asked, swallowing as he gazed over at you. “Thank you. Really.”

It felt like you could breathe again without a weight in your chest. You didn't feel perfect, but you felt good. All thanks to him. You didn’t know what you’d do without him.

“You don’t need to thank me, baby, but I should thank you for letting me take you away,” he winked, keeping your hand in his as he faced forward again. “Makes me feel like a real hero, even though you wouldn't let me storm the castle.”

Oh, he wanted so badly to go off on your manager, but there was no need. “You are a hero,” you said. He saved you without knowing. “But try not to speed, Daredevil. I don’t want us to get pulled over before we get started.”

He groaned, but nodded as he let off the gas. “I’ll try not to speed. Need to make sure I get you to where we’re going safely.”

“I trust you.”

You would find out soon enough that Bucky had a list of things written in his journal that he planned to do with you on this trip. Everything you had ever said in passing that you wanted to do or try, but never could because of work. Because he paid attention to you. And you were right.

You deserved to live today like there’s no tomorrow.

And he wanted to be by your side while you lived your best life.

So, lovelies, where are they doing on their trip first? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

508 notes · View notes

sohnric · 2 months

Text

BIGGER BOYS AND STOLEN SWEETHEARTS — K. SUNWOO

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: fluff. platonic but also not really 👀 jealous sunwoo that is also very delusionally in love with the reader. sunwoo plays the electric guitar but also he's kind of shit so yn has to help him

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, jealousy, the reader is basically half naked and sunwoo ogles a bit

a/n: this fic is my way of battling writer's block. uni is kicking my ass but also i thought of this in the train omw home so i guess its also good for something. this is very much inspired by sunwoo wanting to learn how to play electric guitar, me remembering i own one, and also miri @/satoruly associating bigger boys and stolen sweethearts with me and making me forever insane because of it. also reblog and comment pls its so quiet here its depressing.

once again thank u so much @csenke for beta reading this fiesty baby and thank u @from-izzy for helping me with the flirty bits i owe you my life.

“You have to leave by 5, because I’m hanging out with Mark later,” you call for him as you enter the room, eyes catching a glimpse of Sunwoo sitting on your bed, an electric guitar in his hand. The boy furrows his brows at your words, a bitter taste on his tongue making him roll his eyes as he focuses his attention on the instrument in his lap, fingers aimlessly playing with the strings.

“Okay, alright,” he hisses, clicking his tongue. If you notice anything odd about his behavior, you don’t mention it to him– and if he was self-aware enough to recognise the acid aftertaste your words leave in his mouth for what it really was, he’d be even glad for your sudden blindness to his infatuation with you.

“We’re going to the new bistro that opened downtown,” you hum, as if to only fuel the boy’s frustration further. If all you wanted to do was talk about the guy, why did you invite Sunwoo over in the first place? This was starting to feel like a trap.

“I told you about that place,” he huffs.

“Thank you for the recommendation,” you smile at him ironically, and when your eyes finally meet, Sunwoo recognises the playful glint in your eye– you’re 100% aware of the tension in the air, enjoying the way you have the boy completely under your spell, ready to be torn into pieces. It’s that look you have on your face every time a guy hits on you– the one that mirrors victory, the slightest kick it gives your self-esteem making you grin to yourself as you twirl your hair on your finger and satisfy the man with the slightest touch on his arm. You play into it– you always do– but you never quite let anyone sweep you off your feet completely.

“I thought we would check it out together,” Sunwoo says, fingers plucking at the E string of the guitar, making a dull sound resonate through your room as the background to your conversation.

“We can do that later,” you say, shrugging, “I’ll give you all the recommendations.”

“Traitor,” Sunwoo hisses, glaring at you with a tinge of hurt behind his orbs.

“Don’t be so butthurt.”

“Don’t be so merciless, then,” the boy counters, averting his gaze from yours. “Is he picking you up? I bet he doesn’t even have a car.”

“That’s an unusual way to express jealousy, considering you don’t even have a car, Sunwoo,” you grimace, chuckling at the emotional outburst of your friend. “Besides, his dad owns a car bazaar. I think the possibilities of him not owning a car are quite close to zero.”

Sunwoo stays quiet at that, the call-out making red splotches appear on his cheeks from shame. His eyes quickly move to the guitar again, hypnotizing it with his gaze, fingers clamming at the strings.

Do you like torturing him? Is this what it’s all about? Just a few days ago, he thought he had it all– sneaking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans as he was dropping you off, receiving a ruffle to his hair after you pulled away from his hug, sending a flying kiss to him as you disappeared behind the front door. Today, all you’re talking about is Mark, Mark’s car, Mark’s family, Mark’s school, Mark’s fucking hairstyle, and all Sunwoo can do is either rip out all of his hair, or fantasize about ripping out Mark Lee’s instead– strand by strand, slowly, mercilessly.

“Whatever,” he comments, shaking his head at you. After many months of being friends with you, he should be immune to your charms. The more time he spends with you, though, the more unarmed he seems to be to your enchanting magnetism. You’re not nice to his heart, but up until this moment, he kinda liked the tug of war over yours.

The moment drags itself along before he hears you sigh from somewhere in front of him, frustration so evident in the sound. Sunwoo doesn’t really know what you have to be so infuriated about, since as far as he’s aware, he’s the one left cold and unwanted in the comfort of your room that smells deadly of your perfume (that’s so hard to shake off sometimes, yet he can’t find it in him to hate the sweet scent), but as he looks up to meet your eye, he chokes on his own spit at the image that meets his eye.

“You still don’t know how to play that riff, do you?” you click your tongue, shaking your head. It’s not the action that leaves Sunwoo feeling warmer than before, sweat almost comically appearing on his forehead– the image of you in only last remains of your school uniform does, though, as his eyes unashamedly scan the lengths of your now uncovered legs up your thighs to the curve of your bum, visible as you stare at him sideways, soft skin only slightly covered by the tinge oversized white button-down, red lace peeking out, piercing his gaze.

The boy silently shakes his head, licking his lips in a scattered manner. “Nope,” he admits, letting the last syllable pop in the now silent room, blood rushing to his ears as you stride forward and reach his position in your bedsheets.

“It’s really easy,” you huff, “you just– wait, let me show you,” you start, almost making the boy offer your own guitar back to you, before he watches you climb into the bed behind him, making his breathing hitch in his throat.

This is not at all what he expected you to do, he recognises when he feels your breathing on his neck as you lean over him, thighs straddling his back and pressing into his sides when you kneel on the mattress behind his back in order to have the best vision of the guitar. Sunwoo’s hands slip off the instrument when he finds your head next to his, your arms sneaking around his figure to press the chords down with your digits instead, strumming the strings and caging the boy into your scent and the flush of your muscles, forcing him to watch the little tutorial from first point of view. Your fingers move skillfully against the strings, having played that exact riff many times before (which is also why Sunwoo decided to pick it up, for it reminded him of the afternoons spent in the comfort of your room, laying on the rug in the middle of the floor as you played him your favorite songs), and he can’t help but feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up when your breath meets the side of his face.

“Clearer now?”

“Mhm,” he gulps, nodding. He’s too afraid to turn his head, too scared to see your face so from up close and not instinctively trail his gaze to your lips (of which curves have been sculpted in the heaven, he thinks), and so he only results to taking ahold of the guitar again, battling the reality of having your naked legs pressing into him from behind, fighting the image of your underwear out of his head to the best of his abilities.

He tries to mimic the position of your fingers on the guitar, but the fact that he remembered it wrong (or just was too distracted by his surroundings to really take the information in) is set out to him when you quickly take ahold of his hand, left palm glazing his to move his ring finger to the right position. “Here,” you hum, “that’s the problem. You keep pressing it on the 3rd fret instead of the 4th and that’s why it sounded so weird,” you laugh, the vibration of it against his back making Sunwoo feel like he’s being pumped with pure electricity, fireflies filling his stomach.

“I think it’s too fast for me to keep up with,” he complains, managing to drag a coherent sentence out of his mouth.

“I’ll pluck the strings for you,” you offer, voice saccharine right in his ear, “just try to get the chord patterns down.”

The boy nods, forcing the snapshots of the chord placements to the front of his brain, both begging to get it right so you end your little intimate tutoring session and also hoping he messes up again just to have you scold him and forcefully dragging his fingers to the correct strings– having Sunwoo pathetically yearning for the slightest of your touches. The heartbeat ringing in his own ears serves him as a metronome, and as he chews on the inside of his cheek when he starts, his head spins with the intoxication of your scent, making it hard for him to focus on the tune.

“You got it wrong again,” you hiss into his ear, making goosebumps appear all over his skin. Oh, how mean you are– completely aware of the effect you have on the boy. He’s starting to think you love the idea of torturing him. It must be fun to have someone so under your spell, so drunk on your bare existence.

“I’ll practice more until our next tutoring,” he gulps, laughing airly as you let go of him and move away, letting the poor boy finally breathe.

“You better,” you snicker, standing up and walking back over to your opened closet, bending over to pick up your discarded skirt off the ground and offering the boy a clear view of your bum from where he’s sitting on your bed. Now, there’s no denying you like to tease him. And Sunwoo is aware he might get burned, but like a little boy, he kind of enjoys playing with fire. “Or I’ll start to think you are enjoying my lessons a little too much.”

“Only the ones where you get all angry with me,” he notes, placing the guitar next to him on the bed, his palms now too sweaty to continue playing. “You’re kind of hot when you scream at me.”

Throwing a playful look over your shoulder at the boy, making the first two buttons of your blouse undone, a chuckle leaves your throat. “You’re not the first one to tell me that, sweetheart,” you note. “Now leave my room, you pervert. It’s almost 5 and I have to change.”

Defeated, but still obedient, Sunwoo stands up from your bed and takes slow steps towards the door, dreading his departure. The idea of Mark Lee getting to enjoy this side of you makes Sunwoo particularly green, but the feelings quickly fade when he remembers the moments from a few seconds ago, when he thinks back to the softness of your skin. Before he has the chance to leave, though, a tug on his tie yanks him towards you– the school uniform still covering his body from when he walked home with you two hours ago, carrying both of your bags, proving as an effective attire for your afternoon hangouts.

Pulling him down so your faces are on the same level, the tips of your noses almost touching, has Sunwoo’s shocked eyes grow comically wide and his cheeks burn a crimson red. He feels your breathing fan his lips from the proximity, heart once again running a marathon in his chest when your voice purrs out in a feline-like manner, riling him up. “Always tugging on those strings, but I'll have you know, Sunwoo, you tug on mine all the time,” you grin, gaze only momentarily slipping towards his chapped lips.

Oh, you’re not nice. You’re pretty fucking far from nice– from how you’re playing with his heart, leading him on.

Or are you not…? He guesses he’ll have to find out.

You're a far better guitar player than Sunwoo is, but if you ever wanted a new instrument to perfect, he is more than willing to offer you his body to practice on.

#deoboyznet #sunwoo #the boyz #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagine #sunwoo scenario #sunwoo imagine

165 notes · View notes

iheartuwu · 3 months

Text

₊˚ ♡ random relationship hc’s ◞ leon s. kennedy

fem!reader, fluff, angst, established relationship, implied age gap for like one or two hc’s, wrote these in an id leon brainrot fueled spur lmfao so mostly for an older leon ig !? would love to expand on some of these in a fic, wc 0.6k ╮

gift giving is definitely one of his strongest love languages, however he’s not one for grand gestures or overtly romantic gifts. his gifts are practical, thoughtful, consistent reminders that he’s always thinking of you because he’s never been good with words. he prefers to not be present when you receive them and he’s SO deliberately discreet about it too. subtly replacing your skincare or fav products that are running out with brand new ones, delving into his mental notes of what you’re running low on when he’s at a shop. scheduling food or flower deliveries for when he’s away on a mission or work related tasks. any praise would probably make his skin crawl because he just can’t handle it

terms of endearment feel unnatural to him and rarely fall past his lips unless you seem to react positively to them. i don’t see him as someone who’s that experienced in committed long term relationships ( or relationships in general ) due to the nature of his work and lifestyle. he defaults to ‘babe’ until he learns which terms you prefer / dislike

leon would never accept your offers or attempts to pay for a thing ( i swear by this ). this doesn’t come from a place of arrogance or urge to fulfill some ‘traditionally’ masculine role. his disposable income is plentiful, and he’s happy to pay when the opportunity arises, he honestly doesn’t even think about it and merely hands over his credit card. receiving gifts can often be hard for him but he’ll never purposely display his discomfort or refuse

extremely dry texter and doesn’t really use his phone despite being tech savvy, all of his texts end with periods. rarely ever uses emojis ( his personal favs are 👍👎 and the occasional ❤️ ). typically one word responses. doesn’t understand half of the abbreviations you use. send him a keyboard smash and he’ll think you’re having a stroke. prefers to call you instead

always the driver ( he insists on it ). always has the seat warmer on for you. if you do drive he becomes a backseat driver which can be mildly frustrating. comments on your song choices when you play music in his car but would never tell you to stop no matter how grating it is on his ears and simply endures. sometimes opts for his motorcycle over his car solely because he gets to be held onto by you. would literally never let you even fathom the idea of driving his motorcycle

frequent date nights at borderline obnoxiously ritzy restaurants to compensate for his time spent away from you due to his job. also bc this man cannot cook. does not let you know in advance. he simply says “we have a reservation tonight” like an hour before which often results in you scrambling to get ready

he struggles with sharing his ( darker ) emotions, accompanied by a habit of opting to brush your concerns off. vulnerability is a foreign language to him. he’s scarily good at pretending he is fine, but you manage to see glimpses of his deteriorating wellbeing in his body language. the heavy sighs upon waking up, his slight recoil from your touch, his posture stiffening after you ask him what’s on his mind. this doesn’t come from a place of distrust in any way, he truly just doesn’t want to ‘burden’ you and convinces himself that his struggles aren’t important in the grand scheme of things. he also knows the source of his stress and trauma is for the most part confidential and he tells himself he’s doing it for your own safety and protection. when he does open up by his own volition, he keeps it brief, spares most of the details, his composure rarely falters and he’s itching to move on from the subject. you’ve never seen him cry :(

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #i could go on and on about him fr

286 notes · View notes

charlesslut16 · 10 months

Note

Hai there, lurker here who loooooves your writing 🫶🏻

If you’re taking requests, would you be open to doing a fic wherein the driver (Charles/Max/Oscar, your choice) is a jealous, smutty menace?

No pressure though if you’re not feeling it!

-jealous man-

summary : you are at your graduating party and party with your freind, which makes oscar jealous

PAIRING : oscar piastri x fem!reader

WARNINGS : 18+. smut, NSFW, a bit toxish, bit angst, jealous sex, possessive!boyfriend, p in v, curse words, light spanking, dirty talk, slight aftercare.

note : i hope you like it! Love you <3 I'm on vacation that's why i hope that i can post every day.

masterlist

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

The door slammed shut behind you, only to open and slam shut again. You kept your face forward as you kicked off your heels and stomped into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

A night that was supposed to be one to remember turned into a nightmare. To top it all off, it was your graduation party from university and the one person who was supposed to make it special was the one who ruined it.

You turned around to see Oscar tossing his jacket onto the back of the couch before he walked over to the counter you were standing by and rested his hands against the countertop.

He kept his face down, so you couldn’t see his expression, though you had a good idea of what it looked like. You took a drink before finally speaking, you had stayed quiet the entire ride home.

“I just can’t believe you’d ruin my night like that.”

Your voice was a quiet whisper, but there was venom behind your words. He shook his head and looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of anger and frustration.

“Me? You were the one who was all over that guy, and when he grabbed you, I couldn’t just stand there!” he shouted, walking closer to you, but you backed away with every step.

“Oscar! You beat my childhood best friend to a bloody mess! You’re lucky I’m friends with him, or he’d be suing your ass!” You ran your fingers through your hair, wishing that there was some sort of do over for the whole night.

It had stated off good. You had bought a new dress and shoes, and you even got your hair done just for the party Oscar was throwing for you. While you were getting dressed, Oscar came in dressed nice suit and gave you a small kiss.

He led you outside to his McLaren before he drove the two of you to your favorite bar. All of your friends were there, including Liam, who you hadn’t seen in years.

After doing some celebratory shots and having some cake, you began to catch up with Liam when, out of nowhere, Oscar came up and shoved him away from you before pounding his fist into his face over and over.

The total disaster of a memory saddened you when you remembered how nice the night was supposed to be going, but it also made you so angry all over again.

“So what if he sues me? It’s not like I don’t have the money, and I’m not about to let some prick touch my girl like that! Don’t tell me you didn’t notice how he was looking at you? You aren’t that blind, are you?”

The insult was a smack in the face, but it just added fuel to the fire.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I haven’t seen Liam in six years. Six years. So forgive me if, at my graduation party, I wanted to catch up with him and see how he was doing. And you have absolutely no right to comment on someone else staring at me when you are Oscar-fucking-Piastri. Every girl on the goddamn planet thinks you're the hottest thing to walk this earth, and I don’t go around punching every girl you talk to.”

“It’s different, and you know that,” he said lowly, walking over to you. Frustrated tears began to fall down your cheeks, leaving cool trails in their wake.

“Oh my God! You don’t even see how what you did was wrong! Oscar! You don’t even trust me enough after we’ve been together for two years. Liam is just a friend, that’s all he’s ever been. And now, thanks to you, he probably hates me!”

You ran your fingers through your long hair and let out a loud sigh. The previous burst of energy you had had drained away slowly, leaving you a burnt out mess.

The two of you stood there in silence for a good while. You just stared at the coffee pot just past Oscar, the night's events replayed over and over again in your head.

After minutes past, Oscar spoke softly, breaking the deafening silence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what came over me. I just saw him touching you, and it drove me crazy. I ruined your night and I’m sorry. This night was supposed to be about you and I ruined that,” he apologized, grabbing your hands.

The knuckles on his right hand were cut up, bruised and bloody, but he still brought your hands up to his dry lips to leave a small hearty kiss on your knuckles.

“Let me do something to make it up to you. Please.”

You could feel his warm breath coming out in puffs against your cheek. His hands dropped to your waist and pulled you closer to him, making your heart pound.

Your house was really eerily quiet, only the quiet sounds of your breathing could be heard. You finally looked up at him bravely, Oscar’s eyes focused on your lips.

The two of you stood there, timeless, neither one of you wanting to break the tension. After a moment, Oscar couldn’t take it. He pulled you even closer, smashing his lips against yours, his tongue flicking playfully at yours.

A small groan erupted from the back of Oscar’s throat as you pushed back against him. His hands dropped to your butt as he squeezed gently, before dragging his hands back up your body to cup your face.

His lips peppered kisses down your jaw before settling on a spot on your neck. A whimper left your mouth as he bit down softly before dragging his tongue up your neck.

He grabbed your legs and picked you up, setting you down on the counter. You tightened your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair before reaching down to pull his shirt off.

His skin was hot and sent sparks throughout your body with every touch. Oscar lifted you and began walking, or rather, stumbling, towards your bedroom down the hall.

His lips never left yours until you decided to break the kiss to bite down on his shoulder, a spot you knew he enjoyed. His hands on your butt tightened when you did, and he stopped moving for a moment to entirely enjoy the moment.

A small smirk found its way onto your lips when he began groaning, and you stopped kissing him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He whimpered at the absence of your lips, but hurried to the bedroom.

You released your legs to stand up from your bed, once you were next to your big bed, while Oscar fumbled with the zipper down the side of your graduating dress.

The moment it was off, his lips began ravishing the soft skin peaking out of your bra, and goosebumps erupted all over your skin. He pulled away and pushed you backwards, so you fell onto the bed.

The wet spots on your breast were cold, but you barely noticed as you watched Oscar tug off his pants and boxers. He was so desperate to feel you, he didn’t even bother with his socks.

His fingers looped into your panties and quickly pulled them off before expertly unclasping your bra. His eyes widened, and he immediately began teasing your left nipple with his tongue while massaging the other with his hand.

The feeling was numbing, and you almost couldn’t stand the constant teasing. Suddenly, Oscar flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your ass up in the air.

Normally you’d oppose to this position, but you were so turned on it didn’t bother you at all. In fact, it made you ache even more. You heard him reach over and dig around in the drawer in your end table, followed by the tearing of foil.

The condom wrapper was tossed to the floor and forgotten about the moment you could feel his tip pushing against you. He began rocking into you, a low growl coming from behind you as he moved slowly.

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out as you buried your face in the sheet. Oscar stopped moving for a moment to reach and grab your hands, twisting them behind your back.

His hands were large enough to hold both of yours with one, so his other hand reached for your hair, tugging softly. A small whimper left your lips as he began moving again, this time even harder.

His hand released yours, and he placed it back on your hips, steadying himself as he pushed faster and faster. Small moans were continuously falling out of your mouth as he hit that perfect spot with every thrust.

A small layer of sweat covered your body as you felt the familiar warmth growing in your stomach. Oscar’s grip on your hair tightened as he gave a particularly strong thrust, causing the both of you to cry out.

Continuous ‘I love you’s fell out of your mouth as the pleasure began filling your body. Your toes were curling, and your fingertips were growing numb as his grip on your hip tightened, destined to leave small bruises.

A wave a pleasure swept over your body as you came, crashing down onto the mattress, loud cries echoing throughout the large room. Your body was still twitching with pleasure as Oscar came over you, falling on top of your back.

His heartbeat could be felt on your back, and you let out a breathy laugh, too exhausted to move. The two of you laid there for a moment before Harry found the energy to roll off of you and onto his back.

He grabbed a tissue and disposed of the used condom before pulling you into his side. His fingers drew aimlessly on your shoulders as you listened to his heartbeat slowing down to a more relaxed pulse.

“I really fucking love you, Y/N. I’m truly sorry about the way I acted earlier,” he told you, kissing the top of your head. His hand tightened on your shoulder before continuing to draw random circles on your arm.

“What you did wasn’t okay, but you should apologize to Liam. Tomorrow. I just want to cuddle and spend the last hour of my birthday with the crazy, jealous, handsome man that I love. Is that too much to ask?”

You looked up at him to see him resting his head against the wall with his eyes closed and smiling peacefully. Even if he was crazy sometimes, you loved him even more for it.

#f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 fluff #formula one

576 notes · View notes

rythyme · 22 days

Note

hello ok so i saw your recent ex-morning posts and like i watched sotus but i have No Idea what's going on at the moment. f it's not too much effort can you explain why the ex-morning stuff is so, i dunno how to say it, noteworthy, i guess? like just what's up maybe?

Tl;dr: The Ex-Morning is GMMTV's literal RPF with the serial numbers filed off, starring the actors from said RPF.

i'll do my best to explain more under the cut

ok let's do this

SOTUS and KristSingto were some of the biggest cash cows GMMTV has ever had. I would argue that the success of SOTUS in 2016 is the main reason we have a BL renaissance today.

Krist and Singto have not acted together since 2018. Until recently, it was assumed that they would never be paired up again.

There were rumors that they had a falling out, which supposedly explained why they stopped acting together. Mostly speculation, but who knows.

Krist made a poor taste comment a while back that led to him being somewhat "cancelled" for a few years. He only started dipping his toes back into BL last year.

Singto, on the other hand, never stopped acting in BLs and has had at least 6 on-screen male acting partners since then (maybe more if you count his one-sided crushes on Mike and Lee Thanat in Baker Boys, or whatever the hell was going on in Shadow). This is very notable, since the BL business model tends to keep acting pairs in the same "ship" for years at a time.

Acting pairs almost never "get back together" after getting a new male acting partner. The literal only exception I can think of is when Tay Tawan acted with Joss Wayar in 3 Will Be Free and then continued to act with New in DBK/Cherry Magic.

Despite everything, KristSingto is still extremely popular among fans to this day and is still one of the most popular "ships" of all time.

When Singto's schedule opened up, GMMTV finally got the opportunity to profit off of it again -- in the most intentional and transparent way possible.

The plot of The Ex-Morning -- exes reuniting and falling for each other again -- mirrors the careers and relationship of Singto and Krist. The fact that Krist's character has a publicity blunder and has to restore his reputation is even more fuel for the fire.

The director for The Ex-Morning is the same director who made SOTUS

The flashback in The Ex-Morning shows Krist and Singto with their signature iced coffee and pink milk, which intentionally calls back to their characters in SOTUS.

P'Aof, who is said to be writing some of the screenplay for The Ex-Morning, said that he wrote it to match Krist and Singto's relationship. This story was tailor made for them.

Conclusion: GMMTV is going for the SOTUS / KristSingto cash grab by essentially having Aof write some kind of amalgamation of KristSingto RPF and SOTUS post-canon future fic.

Do I know that it's a blatant cash grab? Yes. Will I will be watching it anyway because it looks low-key good in its own right? Also yes.

#hope this helps #i am not capable of being concise about this my apologies #sotus #the ex morning #kristsingto #thai drama #lgbt drama #ask theo #the ex-morning

103 notes · View notes

sokkigarden · 10 months

Text

dancing with our hands tied (part i)

jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // enemies to lovers // fwb

masterlist // read on ao3

summary: wearing the jersey of your self-proclaimed enemy wasn't supposed to go like this.

word count: 2.8k

decided to post this fic to tumblr! not sure if i will be doing a taglist, but i will be tagging each part with jamie tartt x reader + jamie tartt smut so if you are following those tags religiously (like me) then you can find it lol. its also on ao3 and will likely get updated there first if you'd like to subscribe that way. big shoutout to @whimsical-roasting for drafting this in our dms in a haze one night LMAO i would not have been able to write this without her<3333

༻✧✧✧༺

“No no no, there is no way I’m wearing that.”

Opposite of you, your best friend, Laney, stood with two Richmond jerseys in her hands. One said ‘Tartt’ across the back, the other, ‘McAdoo,’ but you already knew which one she wanted to wear. She had a raging crush on Isaac, so that left only one option for you.

And there was no way you were wearing Jamie Tartt’s fucking jersey.

You would never hear the end of it. As part of the team’s physio team, you had a good rapport with most of the players. You complimented them when they had a good match and joked around while working with them through their physical therapy treatments.

You had a decent working relationship with everyone on the team.

Everyone except for Jamie Tartt.

There was no question that since his return to Richmond, he had become a changed man, but his past words had left a lingering resentment. You didn’t think you were in the wrong to simply avoid interacting with the man. He hadn’t often been seen in the treatment room, and when he had, you typically passed off his treatment to another member of the team, along with some flimsy excuse for why you couldn’t do it.

But recently, as he trained more with Coach Kent outside of the dog track, he’d needed additional treatment. And as the new lead of the physio team, you were in charge of his treatment plan.

In recent months, especially since working more closely with him, he’d started to notice the difference in behavior from you, leading to all sorts of jests and confrontations. Now, it seemed like he just got a kick out of teasing and inevitably pissing you off. You couldn’t help but fire some scathing shots back. What started out as a simple plan of avoidance had clearly backfired.

Now everytime he needed assistance with muscle cramps or pain medication, you got a conversation full of sarcasm and questions. It almost felt like sometimes he came in just to rile you up.

Just last week, Jamie came in to check on his ankle after a bad landing at training. You examined his leg and he made comments the entire time you had your hands on him.

“You know, I get waxed. Weekly. Everywhere.”

You had stumbled ever so slightly as you’d gone to grab an ice pack. You cringed inwardly, knowing this would only add more fuel to Jamie’s fire. You were tired of him getting the best of you, making you flustered. You wanted to fight back.

Turning back to him with the ice pack, you stared at him directly.

“Show me,” you challenged.

Jamie’s face held an incredulous expression.

“You mentioned it— you clearly want to,” you reasoned, shrugging your shoulders, “So show me.”

You hoped your confidence in calling his bluff worked in your favor, and his face showed that he was clearly surprised by this turn of events. You couldn’t tell what he would do next. He rolled his eyes with that smug smirk on his face before he raised his eyebrows and lifted his shirt up.

Sure enough, his chest was bare, showing off his sculpted muscles.

Jamie leisurely lounged across the treatment table, chest exposed, and you would be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water a little bit at the sight. Even after being around athletes on a daily basis, there was something about Jamie that just— hit different. His cockiness was surely annoying, but it was also incredibly arousing, as much as you hated to admit it. You felt a squeeze in your chest but you bit your tongue to keep yourself in line. There was no way that thought would ever bear fruit.

You shoved the ice pack into his lap, making sure some of it landed on the bare skin of his stomach, watching as he flinched a little bit at the abrupt action and cold temperature of the pack.

“Ice your ankle for twenty minutes, then stay off it the rest of the day,” you informed him, acting like the last few moments hadn’t happened. “You’ll be good to train tomorrow.”

Jamie scoffed at your indifference. He grasped the ice pack fully and let his shirt slide back down.

“Sure, love, I’ll do that.”

He knew you hated it when he called you by a pet name. That only made him use them more. You glanced back at him, staring into his eyes for a moment before you grabbed your bag.

The tension in the room was palpable before you’d headed out to check on the rest of the players at training. You hadn’t said anything else as you’d left.

So, yeah. There was no way Jamie Tartt would ever let you hear the end of it if you showed up in his jersey number.

“Oh, come on!” Laney pleaded. “I don’t want to wear a jersey alone.”

“Plenty of people do!”

“Yeah, but plenty of people don’t get to go behind the scenes and actually speak to the players,” she gushed. “I don’t want to meet them and look stupid all alone.”

“So instead, you want me to look stupid with you,” you gave her a flat look.

She smiled mischievously. “What? I thought it would be funny. You complain about him all the time.”

If only she fully comprehended the validity behind your complaints.

You knew there was no way you were ever going to win this fight, so you slipped on the jersey and braced for impact. You were happy to have Laney come along to a game, especially since you didn’t always attend matches and her being a big Richmond fan gave you an excuse to watch. You wanted today to be good, not just for you, but for her too. It was exciting to be able to take your best friend on a little ‘backstage’ tour during gameday.

You hoped today would be good, and that you wouldn’t have any run-ins with the man who made your blood boil.

Alas, not even twenty minutes later, as you walked into the back of the Nelson Road stadium through the employee entrance, you promptly ran into none other than Jamie Tartt.

“Well well well, I didn’t realize someone was such a big fan,” the familiar Mancunian accent taunted behind you.

You tried not to visibly cringe as you turned around to face Jamie. He was not yet in his kit, still wearing his street clothes: a monochrome denim set. It was frankly unfair how well the jeans fit him, but you refused to let your gaze linger for more than a few seconds.

“Oh my, it's the infamous Jamie Tartt,” Laney greeted him playfully. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Your jaw clenched at her words as she reached out to shake his hand. He eagerly accepted.

“Have you?” he asked with a mischievous look in your direction that made you roll your eyes.

Laney nodded emphatically. “She talks about you all the time.”

You nudged her shoulder to get her to stop talking but she just looked at you innocently. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it seemed like Jamie did too.

“Oh, does she?” Jamie questioned.

He was eating this up. His face was smug and you were sure this would haunt you for weeks to come.

“Laney, why don’t you go get some snacks? Shouldn’t be a line since we are here a bit early. I’ve got to talk to Jamie before the match,” you said. “I’ll meet you at our seats?”

You smiled sweetly at her, but underneath the nice layer, you knew your eyes held an anger that had her quickly waving goodbye and scurrying off. You were more than happy to have her accompany you to a match, but this entire interaction was reminding you of why you hadn’t invited her sooner.

For a moment, you just stared at him. It was hard to look him directly in the eye sometimes. Despite the headstrong front you kept up, you weren’t used to dealing with such interactions. You weren't stupid, you knew that this dance you two engaged in fell close to flirting (at least that’s what Laney said), and when you looked directly at him, you remembered just how fucking hot he was.

It wasn't just his physical attributes. Sure, he was in excellent physical shape, and his hair looked particularly perfect ever since he started going a bit blond, and his lips were always in a little pout, just begging to be kissed. But it was also a little more than that. Seeing him step up to lead as they began Total Football, working as a team player while also getting in extra workouts to be the best he could be. You weren't blind. You could see his internal changes on the outside, somehow. He didn't seem as cold. He didn't seem as distant and prickish. Jamie’s change in demeanor changed how everyone saw him including himself.

And he seemed to look even hotter than he used to.

Was it possible for someone to just keep getting more and more attractive?

It was part of the reason he drove you up the wall. How did he so perfectly remain just a little bit of a prick while also being a better person? And why did he have to look so pretty while doing it?

More and more people were making their way through the hallway as the dog track got ready for the match, and Jamie still stood in the middle, with an innocent, questioning look directed towards you.

You huffed before you grabbed his arm and shoved him into the treatment room. Even if he was acting oblivious to spectators, you didn’t want to put on a show when you once again ripped him a new one.

His face was still prickish as you turned to look at him. He was clearly enjoying this much more than you were.

“So you talk about me when I ain’t around, love?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No, I don’t,” you said firmly. “And don’t call me ‘love.’”

He pursed his lips, “Seems like you do… love.”

He smiled cheekily at you and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes at him. Instead, you crossed your arms and put on what you hoped was your most serious face.

“I talk about everybody,” you defended, but he clearly wasn’t listening.

“Hmmm, and what do you say about me?” Jamie scratched his chin to mock being in deep concentration.

“Mostly, I tell people you’re a pain in my ass.”

The statement seemed to shock Jamie out of his act and he narrowed his eyes at you. You knew it wasn’t the best idea to have a sparring match with a footballer right before a game. They were pent up with nerves and adrenaline as they prepared.

After a moment of no response, you expected the conversation to be over and began to move toward the door, when he finally spoke up.

“Bend over, I’ll show you a pain in the ass.”

Now you’re the one who’s speechless. You let out a breathless laugh of shock, before rolling your eyes. You continued on your way to the door, moving to leave him in the room alone. Just as you go past him, he playfully smacks your ass. Before you have a chance to even choose your reaction, you let out what can only be described as a whimper mixed with a moan.

You whirl around to look at him, and you both seem to be shocked by the noise. You can tell your face is burning with embarrassment as you stare at each other in a momentary state of shock.

He recovers first, letting out a breath of a laugh. A smirk dances across his face.

“Liked that, did you?” he taunted.

You clearly didn’t recover as quickly, your reply coming out weaker than you’d like. “Shut up, Tartt.”

He stepped a little closer to you, and you stepped back instinctively, before you ran into the table set up next to the door.

“I liked hearin’ it,” he said, his voice coming out like a rough whisper.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were barely processing how close the two of you were. Making direct eye contact, breathing the same air. In the next moment, you had spun around, shoving your own pants down around your knees as you heard him unzipping his jeans. He gripped your waist as he spanked you again, and you didn’t even try to suppress the moan that left your lips.

He slid his dick in easily, and you were surprised at how wet you’d become from simply arguing with the man. He held you against his chest as he thrust into you, pressing a messy kiss to your neck, sucking slightly. Part of you was worried about him leaving a mark, but the thought was pushed to the back of your mind as he continued his journey along your neck. He raised your knee higher to rest against the table for a better position, and you groaned in unison as he thrust deeper inside you. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, leaning against him.

“You wanted this real bad, huh, angel?” he asked.

You nearly wept at the pet name. You made a noise of protest, but your voice came out near breathless from the intensity of it all. You felt like your knees would buckle from the sensation, so you gripped the table in an attempt to not fall.

“Fuck you— you wanted it more,” you defended, but just as you spoke, he hit deep inside you and left the end of your sentence turning to mush as you moaned.

The table wasn’t enough to grab onto, so you reached back and started to grip the strands of his hair. He groaned directly into your ear, and you felt your knees nearly give out entirely.

“Damn, you look so pretty with my name on your back and my dick inside you,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up to grip at your throat. The action wasn’t gentle, but the pressure was perfect.

You’d almost forgotten you were wearing his name across the back of your jersey. Of course he would think it was hot.

It surprised you when you realized you found it kind of hot too.

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned, “This isn’t happening again.”

Your harsh words felt like they had no meaning as you bucked against him. His own hips rose up to meet your own. Truth be told, you were getting your shit rocked and were already wondering when you could fuck him again. You felt your brain short circuiting. Your breaths were shallow as he moved his hand up to your mouth.

You bit his hand out of frustration, making him hiss and thrust his hips faster. He shoved his fingers into your mouth and you sucked instinctively, causing him to whine.

“Jamie,” you gasped around his fingers, “I-I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he panted in reply. You didn’t have it in you to correct him over the pet name, overcome with the sensations coursing through your body.

He removed his fingers from your mouth and snaked his hand down your body to find your clit, adding extra pressure. He knows just the right way to move his fingers that has you falling apart in mere moments.

When you come, he turns your head to plant a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips as you both find your release. You find yourself kissing him back intensely, chasing his lips once he finally pulls away.

Your knees are weak at this point, fully leaning against him for support once he finally slips out of you and pulls his jeans back up. Before he has a chance to say anything between breaths, you reach for a towel off the shelves above you and clean yourself off.

You’re still out of breath as you finally look over at him. His face is shiny with sweat and you fear you look the same. You’ll have to stop by the restroom before you meet back up with Laney.

Laney.

The thought of your friend has you glancing at the clock on the wall, cursing yourself. Everything starts to come into clear view, and you wonder how you let things go this far. You just fucked Jamie Tartt. How the hell did that just happen?

You press your lips in a firm line. You try to keep your hands from visibly shaking.

“This is never happening again,” you tell him again, as you reach for the door handle to exit.

As you open the door, Jamie scoffs.

“Sure, love,” he says, sauntering through the door that you opened, “I’ll see you after the match.”

He leaves you with a wink before heading off to get ready for the match. If you thought he would be unbearable about the jersey, you had just made the entire situation so much worse.

You weren’t sure how long you stood in the treatment room before you finally left as well.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt smut #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt enemies to lovers #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso imagine #my works #dwoht fic

560 notes · View notes

freak-accident419 · 5 months

Text

Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: On a chilly December night, you and Billy catch up. Then, you make an important decision.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, cursing, alcohol, mention of holidays (gift giving), slight suggestive comment

(A/n: thank you to everyone for all your support for this short multiple-part fic! It means so much to me! I hope I did its finale justice :) also credit to the person who suggested a bar scene !)

You watched him take a short sip of his beer as you fidgeted with your bottle.

You two agreed that you would catch up at this bar at the corner of the street when you were done with your shift. It has only been a few weeks since you’ve last seen him, but it felt like forever to you, hence the slight awkwardness in the atmosphere.

“So… did you pay off your debt…?” You ask hesitantly, continuing to fidget with the beer bottle in front of you. You finally looked at him, observing his brown eyes softening at the sight of you. The right side of his face was still scarred by the second-degree burn that hot coffee gave him. But you’ve only ever seen him like this, and so, to you, he still looked as handsome as he was since you last saw him.

“Yeah, I… I paid them off,” he answered bluntly.

“And the thing with the bikers? Are you… on good terms with them now?”

In response, he let out a scoff and a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

“Ugh, dude, what did you do?” You say with exasperation, though amused by his lighthearted manner.

“They wanted the money, but, um… They all sort of… still hate me, so… those assholes gave me a warning: if they see my face again, they’ll kill me, so…” He trails off, taking a fairly tame swig of alcohol before he continues. You noticed that he seemed calmer since you’ve last seen him. As if he worked on himself, his temper, and spontaneous vulgarity. You admired that. “I’m gonna have to go. Unwillingly leave town, you know.”

“Damn,” you mutter, briefly sipping your drink. “That was your initial plan anyways though, right? To, like, just leave this place?”

He let out a soft sigh, which slightly puzzled you. Why did he seem so disappointed?

“Before I was on my way to meet up with them, I just… I got the idea that maybe I just shouldn’t leave. I thought that, um… leaving someplace that’s, uh… desirable… would be a very idiotic thing for me to do,” he explains, only baffling you even more.

“Okay? But you said it yourself, after you paid them off, you wanted to leave town and start anew, have a fresh start. What makes Upstate New York so… great, I guess, that you don’t want to leave?” You inquire with a lighthearted chuckle.

He fidgets with his beer bottle anxiously before looking back at you to answer. “You…”

You were stunned. You opened your mouth slightly to respond, but no words came out. You didn’t know him too well—but after an hour of being stuck together, you knew him enough, at the very least. But why did you have such an impact on him? You guessed that you had an indubitable liking for him too—similar to a childlike crush, though fueled solely by shared trauma. But you never really thought of it that much until now.

“Billy, I…” you stuttered out. “I… I mean… You had a whole plan, I… I just don’t understand. I like you, Billy, but… why should I be the reason you would want to stay here? You don’t really know me…”

“Well…” He wanted to argue that you two already learned a lot about each other from the time you’ve spent together, but even he realized it would be faulty reasoning. “Fuck, I want to get to know you better, then,” he urged gently.

He looked down at your hands, which were on the table near your drink. He reached his hands towards yours hesitantly, giving you a look by the raise of his eyebrows that asked for your permission. You nodded, watching him finally grab your hands, observing your one wrist, in which the bruise from the zip tie was completely gone. He tenderly rubbed his thumb over your wrists and palms. You felt the warm metal of his ring run against your skin as he would move his index finger. The slightly red dent on his wrist that you last saw on the day you escaped had also disappeared entirely. So it seemed like the only thing that followed him—the only thing that haunted him ever since the gas station, was his burn scar.

“I just…” he began, continuing to look down at your hands as he caressed them. It was something he did a lot, you noticed. You think it calmed him down. “I don’t know why I’m so… pulled to you. It’s fucking stupid, I know, and I’ve probably sounded like a dumbass this entire time, but… I mean it when I say I want to get to know you.”

You stared down at your hands in his, unsure of how you felt. “Well… The bikers, they said that they were gonna kill you if they see your face again. That’s, like… implying they want you out of town. You have to go, Billy. You can’t, shit, risk your life for me.”

“That’s why I want you to run away with me,” he urged softly.

“Billy—”

“I want you to come with me,” he pleads. In his mind, Billy thought it was quite ironic how he wanted you to go with him so badly; he rejected Melinda almost immediately when she asked to go with him. But this was different. You weren’t Melinda. You were you. And he desperately wanted to leave with you. But there seemed to be no way for that to happen.

“Billy, we already talked about this. I… I can’t just leave everything I have here behind,” you reason. “Plus, it’s been weeks ever since I last saw you. You had all this time to come see me, where have you been?”

He pursed his lips. “After the bikers gave me a few ‘friendly’ warning shots, I sort of left immediately. I just kept going west. Stayed in a couple motels. But it just… felt wrong, you know? I felt empty and… fuck, out of place… So, I guess I just… came back here to see you one more time…” he confessed, making your heart beat faster and face warmer. Nobody has ever done this grand of a gesture for you. You almost felt bad. You had made a deep connection with him back at the gas station, and suddenly you were worth a lot to him. “Shit, I… I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to, because I knew it would be… really fucking bad if I tried to come back, but… You were always on my mind. Every second, I… thought about your laughter, and your voice, and I didn’t want to forget it. And-and most of all, you saved my life.” You frowned, because you considered it as a team effort, rather. “Something finally good in my life, for the first fucking time, happened to me and I can’t just—just stand by and let it just leave while I could do something about it.”

You were surprised, to say the least. You never knew you could be this important to someone, let alone someone you’ve only been around with for less than a day. “Billy, I—” You stammered with fluster. “I have to admit, I thought about you multiple times ever since. I sort of always wished I’d run into you whenever I went to a gas station. I think I even dreamed about you multiple times… To be honest, I always thought what would’ve happened if I said yes before and left with you.” He felt your thumb trace delicately along the back of his hand. “Never thought I’d ever think of a gas station robber as handsome and charming.” He chuckled softly in response, his lips forming into a cute, flattered smile.

“I love that you’re here, really. I love that you came back to see me,” You told him. “But… like I said, I can’t come with you.” You would love to, however, you knew it. But you couldn’t just leave everything you had here behind… Could you?

He sighed softly. “Okay, I understand,” he says. “But shit, just… Let me get to know you better before I have to leave for sure. Please. How about I just take you for a drive, then? Just around the block?”

Billy was heavily insistent. After all, he always goes for what he wants.

“The both of us have been drinking, Billy,” you say with guilt. You hated constantly rejecting him. You did want to get to know him better, you did want to spend time with him, but the circumstances and motives were utterly complicated.

You chuckled a bit, however, sort of amused by how much he wanted to be around you. “I don’t know, you can’t just, like… enjoy the moment right now?” You ask as you two look back down at your hands, which were being gently rubbed against each other, Billy’s thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“I don’t know if that’s gonna be enough for me, Y/n,” he claimed dejectedly.

“Why don’t we just take a walk, then? To, like, the nearest park or something,” you offer, feeling his warm fingertips glide softly over your nails. “We could… We could do that.”

After thinking about it for a second, he nodded compliantly.

***

It was supposed to be dark outside, however the street lamps nearby and string lights across buildings liberally illuminated the area. It has been probably half an hour since you two sat down on a park bench, just speaking to each other with occasional banter. That was probably the strongest thing you had with him: communication. Just talking about random things that led to discovering more things about one another. You’d done that while you were tied up together after all. It was how you mainly connected in that moment.

That was another thing, however. You weren’t forced in proximity anymore, but you two still wanted more of each other. Even if you didn’t show it. Your rejection did quite a number on Billy’s belief that his feelings were reciprocated, but as you two proceeded to laugh and talk together, it was reinforced.

“Okay… Quentin Tarantino.” You raise an eyebrow, grinning as you watched your warm breath escape your lips in a hazy, white mist.

“Damn. That one foot fetish guy?” he laughed.

“Yeah, the—the foot fetish guy,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, easy, Pulp Fiction,” he answered. Met with your silence, he looked at you and you shook your head, smiling. “No?”

“No, I wouldn’t make it that obvious—”

“Kill Bill.”

“N—”

“Volume one or two?” You grin as he continued to guess wrong in your game. “Seriously, none of those?”

“From Dusk Til Dawn?” He nearly pouted, it was adorable. “I give up.”

“Jackie Brown. C’mon, man,” you snicker.

He playfully rolled his eyes, scoffing, making you giggle.

This was something you two did back at Paradise Pumps as well, while tied up and exhausted. You made a little game where you basically had to think of a movie and the other had to guess it by only knowing the name of its director.

He smiles softly as he looks at you, but then it gradually dropped, as the recurring thought that he would never see you again invaded his mind once more.

“You good?” You ask reluctantly, seeing his facial expression change.

“Yeah, I just…”

“You don’t want to leave me?” You finish his sentence with a sigh, seeing him nod in response. “It’s not so bad, Billy. You could leave, settle down, start a new life and leave behind all that crime and… biker gang beef,” you offer a small laugh before you continue.

“You could find somebody who is worthier than me. Someone who you didn’t bond with through shared trauma and forced proximity. Someone who would leave everything behind just for you, unlike me.” You wish you could, honestly. What was really stopping you? Fear? Guilt?

Billy scoffs as he listened to your statements, deeming them as bullshit. “Y/n, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” Your eyebrows raise in bewilderment. “I don’t want someone else, okay? I want you... Just you.”

Your heart nearly stopped and you looked at him with sole adoration for him.

And you had no idea what came over you in this moment, because once you heard him say this, you immediately pressed your lips to his, while hesitantly bringing your hands up to his face to gently hold it.

You heard his breath hitch as he soon melts into the kiss, moving his lips with yours and holding onto your wrists. His lips were soft and warm, and he was being nothing but gentle with you. You felt the the tender skin of his burn against your fingertips, your delicate and careful touch soothing him.

You weren’t sure what kind of confidence boost let you do something so impulsive as kissing someone. But the entire night, Billy had been relentlessly winning over your heart, expressing his immense admiration for you. You fell for him. And you had to do something about that.

“Fuck, you know, that…” he began hoarsely once your lips have separated, yet your faces were still very close to each other, switching back and forth from looking deeply into one’s eyes to their lips. “That was fucking evil. That just made it even harder for me to leave you,” he stressed as you two let out small, quiet chuckles.

He convinced you enough, you thought. What did you really have to lose…?

Or, rather, what would you gain?

“You don’t have to,” your voice was slightly raspy as you spoke with a smirk.

And what you would say next had marked your decision. “I’m coming with you, cowboy.”

He parted his lips in shock, so before he could say anything, you just kissed him again, deeply and affectionately, as you couldn’t help but smile in the kiss. You felt him pull you closer by the waist in a fairly strong grip, as if you were to disappear if he let you go. It was a sweet and affectionate kiss, the two of you expressing your admiration and fondness for each other. It was supposed to be cold, hell, it was December in New York. But you couldn’t help but feel pure warmth each second your kiss remained.

*** Two Weeks Later ***

“Open it,” you giggle softly.

“Seriously, when did you get the time to wrap a whole ass gift when we’ve been, like, on the road together this whole time?” Billy says with a smile as he examines the thin, neatly wrapped box in his hands.

“I found a service. While you were preoccupied. Now shut up. Happy Holidays. Open the damn thing.”

It’s been about two weeks since you agreed with leaving with him. After resigning from your job, you basically packed your bags and savings and he picked you up. You two didn’t face any problems so far as you traveled east. You only had an increased admiration for each other, as well as mutual understandings.

Now, you were in an empty parking lot, keeping warm inside the car during the evening. You surprised him with a wrapped gift for the holidays.

You watched him rip off the wrapping paper, making you involuntarily laugh as you saw his expression of disbelief, represented by his playful scoff and the rolling of his eyes.

‘Never Get Angry Again: The Foolproof Way to Stay Calm and in Control in Any Conversation or Situation’ by David J. Lieberman, PhD

He raised his eyebrows as he read over the cover of the anger management book and presented it to you. “Seriously?”

You snicker impishly as you see an amused smile creep at the corner of his lips. “Told you I would, didn’t I?”

“You are terrible,” Billy joked endearingly with a low chuckle.

“I know,” you retort cunningly, reaching over the center console of the car to give him a soft peck on the lips.

“But you have to admit, Y/n, I have been working on myself ever since,” he points out, making you scoff.

“Yeah, but you totally lashed out on that one guy when we were at that convenience store in Pittsburgh,” you insist.

“Okay, well, in my defense, I really didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he shrugged with a knowing grin.

“Damn, should I have gotten you a book on jealousy as well?” you sneer.

“Hey, watch it,” he warned playfully.

“You know what, yeah, you’re right. I digress,” you concur nonchalantly. “If it weren’t for him getting an intense reaction out of you, then you wouldn’t have taken me straight to the bathroom and—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he chuckled softly as you laughed at your own delivery. “Just…” He reached in the back, grabbing a brown box that was sealed with clear tape. “Open your gift. Sorry I didn’t have the time to wrap it, like, I still have no idea how you had the time to do it behind my back, but yeah.”

He handed you his keys so you could rip the tape, then you opened the box, being met with styrofoam packaging. You removed the top layer, and then let out a small gasp as you saw the object, taking it in your hands.

It was a small Albany, New York snow globe. You were beaming as you shook it, watching the “snow” fall down on the capitol building.

“I thought you’d be homesick, so I snatched it right before we left,” he explained, smiling as he sees your reaction.

“Oh my god, Billy, it’s perfect,” you say in awe, then reach over the center console again to hug him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you. “Thank you so much,” you say, kissing him deeply on his lips.

“‘F course, Y/n,” he mumbled sweetly, affectionately returning your kisses.

“You’re perfect,” you nearly whispered as you set the snow globe back in the box so your hands were free to hold his face. He always loved when you would do that. It brought a sort of comfort to him, making him feel safe and secure. He leaned into your touch as you kissed the right side of his face—his forehead and cheek—which were the areas that had been mildly burnt.

“Even when I robbed a gas station?” He asked under his breath, raising an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

He always had a problem with being defined and associated with criminality, so you found it quite ironic for him to point it out.

“I’m fucking with you.”

You shove him playfully, which only resulted in him bringing you into an intense, deep kiss. “You are so perfect too, you know that?” He mutters softly. “I’m so fucking glad you came with me.” He artfully grabbed your hand and looked at you intimately as he pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist—the one that was zip tied to his. The one where the bruise on it had now been fully healed and gone.

“Me too,” you murmur ardently.

223 notes · View notes

thecapodomme · 2 months

Text

THE MUSE 🎨🖌️

Paired Up: DOM! Trevante Rhodes As Zyair Malloy x SUB! Black Fem/Plus size Reader!

Background Music/ Song Inspired by @kittehkwrites

Word Count: 4,390 (Yikes, but not counting the lyrics)

WARNINGS: Mature Audiences: 18+, Minors DNI -(HEAVY Daddy kink, BDSM, SMUT, SMUT, MORE SMUT! PROFANITY!, Established Relationship, , Some use of AAVE, The N word, light Bondage, Breeding kink, Tease and Denial, Wax play ,Choking, Grabbing, Hair Pulling, spanking, Praise, Smacking of the face ,Fingering (F), unprotected sex , A BIT OF A LONG READ, Some grammatical errors because IDK WTF i'm doing! (Capo say sike..Right now. lol But Im deadass) ... and all over Nastiness. Did I miss anything?

DISCLAIMERS:

-DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK.

-DO NOT TRAIN AI WITH MY WORK.

Synopsis: In the glitzy world of art and indulgence, Zyair and Y/N reign as the epitome of a power couple, their magnetic connection sizzling with untamed desire. Their love story ignites from the ashes of Zyair's artistic stagnation, sparked by the fateful encounter at a decadent sex party. From that moment, their lives intertwine, fueled by passion and creativity, leaving behind a trail of whispered rumors and envious glances.

As their anniversary dawns, Zyair prepares for his long-awaited art show, his first since meeting Y/N. Yet, his thoughts stray not to the gallery's pristine walls but to the allure of his beloved, whose presence electrifies every inch of his being. The clock ticks away as Zyair's anticipation grows, his yearning for Y/N eclipsing all other distractions as he finally comes home.

But time slips away in the tender embrace of their love, their passion threatening to consume them whole. As the hours blur into a haze of whispered promises and heated caresses, Zyair and Y/N find themselves ensnared in each other's arms, oblivious to the outside world. They are late for the grand affair, yet in the realm of their intimacy, time holds no dominion.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @henneseyhoe @browngirldominion @melaninpov @hwadam-stories @spaceslutsworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @skvrpion @westside-rot @tvchi @kittehkwrites @kindofaintrovert @lostgalaxies

A/N: first off ... I'M RUSTY OK. Also I'm a bit upset because my older brother was like "who writes fan fics anymore they're so passé." 🥹 I said am I not a writer? Did I not get a journalism degree? Did my teachers not push me to do this and saw something? He didn't have anything to say back. But anyway! Is this self indulgent? YES. Are you still going to enjoy it? YES! BRAIN ROT....? YEAH IM GLITCHIN'! Be easy this is my first Fan fic/Smut I'm nervous. I love yall! It's real nasty because... I want him to do this to all of us! Do you hear me?! Slight delay because I was transfixed with the dialogue. I was really trying to get the essence of Zyair. If this gets positive feedback There may be a Prologue, a part 2 , and a part 3 if y'all feelin' this! Like, comment, reblog.... if your heart so desires! 🫶🏽

It's been four years since Zyair's trial, and it was his first art show since then. Mea was long gone and probably still with her pinhead ass husband, and to think he really wanted to like her. He was breathing new life into his art, his name was cleared, and he was getting into his first real relationship. He found his ONE.

Touring London and France during the summer months. His nights were long, and his days were short. You missed him whenever you hung up from talking with him all night or if he sent you a cute text. You knew he was premiering his new pieces from home tonight, and anything was possible with you on his arm.

Daddy: I'll be home later than usual. The show starts soon. Be dressed, be ready, and wear those heels I like. I'll come to collect you. You've been such a good girl. I can't wait to see you! This tour has been hectic.

You: Yes, Sir! I miss you more. Come home to me. ❤️🥺

Daddy: That's my Big Girl. I'm on the way.

You gently placed your phone beside the claw foot bathtub on the vanity chair you'd drug over. The plush afghan carpet ruffled as you moved it to where you wanted it. The master bathroom on the first floor was spacious yet cozy.

An open shower in the back is made of dark marble and granite, and Zyair's closet is off to the left, surrounded by suits, ties, and his wardrobe. Although the loft was Gargantuan, unlike most places in Chicago, it had a makeshift industrial vibe that made it mysterious enough, you thought to yourself.

'It really needs a woman's touch.'

Drums and soft piano flooded your ears from the huge vinyl and Bluetooth sound system; you rifled through Zyairs' music collection all day. It was impressive, spanning from 70s soul to 90s R&B, which was very prized to his heart and his favorite genre. As you prepare to get ready as instructed by the love of your life, it always helps soothe your soul and set the mood for a night in the city.

You peeled out of your I murdered my husband's robes, Pinned up your waist-length Goddess locs, and began to run a bubble bath. Candles illuminated the floor, glinting your umber skin into the floor-length mirror beside the vanity.

You carefully sluiced a toe into the roaring torrent to test its temperature. With a satisfied grin, you plunged into its warmth and shut off the water; the suds were cloud-like and steamy, clinging to every part of you, and the scent of damask roses filled the air. Toni's contralto caressed you.

Whoa-oh, whoa-oh Oh-oh oh-ooh Whoa-oh, whoa-oh Oh-oh oh-ooh Baby...

Relaxation couldn't even begin to explain the euphoria encircling you. You've bagged the hottest artist in Chicago, are engaged to be married, and have much to look forward to as you start life with Zyair.

You hum along with the song as you grab your pink African exfoliating net, scrubbing from top to bottom. Occasionally, you slump your hand out to hold your phone in case he calls, or any texts from his art assistant flash across your dimly lit iPhone 15.

Head Bopping along to the beat and your legs kicking water onto the floor as you half danced in the tub. You were so bewitched by your daydreaming and bathtub concert that you couldn't hear a pin drop.

Arriving into the lot and slowly turning the corner, shined chrome and black wheels approached the entrance and parked, with a thud from the door to the Range Rover, where his driver let him off.

Since you been gone I been hanging 'round here lately With my mind messed up

Zyair stepped out of the vehicle in all black as usual; A pin stripped, short sleeved, button down shirt, noir wife beater, Prada slacks, and matching boots.

He quickly approaches the gate to the elevator, which was now broken. He shook his head in annoyance, and a frown curled at his lips when he realized. "Always on some bullshit," he scoffed.

A flick of his wrist, he checked the time. The gold bracelet draped on his wrist, twinkling in the light from the cars going in and out. He began descending up the inside stairwell to the third floor toward the loft.

With solid traces, he rose from the staircase. Slowly, he closed the exit door, hoping you didn't hear it squeaking to lock. Crossing the downstairs living room floor, he passed leather chairs, scattered and unfinished art pieces, and an acrylic-adorned curtain. He crept behind the curtain and into the room.

Jumped in my car Tried to clear my mind, didn't help me I guess I'm all messed up now, baby

His gait was slow yet boisterous. His hand behind his back, and he bounced a little with one foot pointed firmly in front of the other, walking straight and tall. His presence was always known in a room. He held a box of two dozen long-stem roses and a rounded, substantially sized jewelry box.

---

Meanwhile, you'd already gotten out of the tub as the first verse goes into the chorus. The Whirl of the water rushing out of the tub feels loud against the empty room. You check your messages once more and check the time yourself: 8:30 p.m.

As soon as I jumped into my ride Those memories start to play, yeah A song comes on, on the radio And there you are, baby Once again!

Rubbing your body in Fenty butta drop lotion for an unforgivable glow, you look into the long-length mirror to the side of your makeshift vanity.

You pull on your raven-colored thigh-high stockings, bra, and Lacey panties with the corseted back, putting your talons into your mouth as you turn and take in yourself. The finishing touch is a generous dab of merlot lipstick and a flick or two of eyeliner and mascara after setting your foundation.

Nodding as if to say, 'Im that bitch.' You slipped on your coveted Dior patent calfskin sling backs, carefully lifting each foot to get each one on. Admiring your supple breasts, hips, and bountiful assets. From all angles.

It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me And it's all because of you...Hoo!

Zyair's panther-like proximity took you by surprise. He cocked his head to the side while taking in the sight of you setting down his gifts for you on the counter of the bathroom.

You didn't hear him stride up behind you. His hands gliding up your hips, and his luscious beard cuddling into the crook of your neck. Taking in your scent and his full lips, kissing your clavicle.

It made your heart palpitate. You felt his hands snake up past your bra as you relaxed into his embrace, letting your tensions melt into him. That familiar cologne of sandalwood and pimento that you adored wafted into your nasal cavities as his hand gripped your neck ever so gently but slightly, applying pressure.

"You look incredible, Y/N. Stay just like this." Zyair says in his full-bodied baritone, sounding like heaven to you after so long. Nibbling your ear into his mouth with a playful bite.

He was watching you in the mirror, hunched over you a bit as he towered above because of how short you were compared to his six-foot stature, hugging you to his manhood.

Your ass pressed against his inky slacks. You turned around out of his grip and held his high cheekbones into your manicured, blood-red nails, Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as he gripped and massaged your ass from above, making you stand on your tip toes and your breasts heaving into his Adonis-like abdomen.

Since you been gone I keep thinkin' about you, baby It gets me all choked up This heart of mine keeps dreamin' of you And it's crazy, babe

"I missed you. You were gone all month. I thought we'd never have alone time."You sighed into his parted lips, trailing butterfly kisses from the pronounced girth of his neck down to his Aureate-colored chains that sat right on his sternum.

Zyair respired, and his massive pectorals flexed in unison with your smacking lips as you kissed every inch of his chest through his open-collared shirt. Looking at you in the mirror, he stopped your assault of smooches by holding your hand.

"I know I miss you when I'm gone too,Baby girl. A nigga can't stop thinkin' bout you." He gently pulled you towards him, giving you that boyish grin and a flash of those to-die-for ivories as he clasped your lower back.

His bulging frame surrounded you as he stood back with your hand in the air, making you twirl like a Princess.

Before he sat down causally onto the vanity chair and embraced you in a hug between his thighs and a gentle kiss on the forehead, he bent over to grab the things he'd laid on the counter, brandishing them before you. He gave you the rounded jewelry box first.

Sitting back, his posture was relaxed and confident to the side, and his right foot bore the weight as he man spread all alpha, chocolate, and delicious.

You'd think I'd had enough, yeah Soon as I get you out my head I'm in my car again, ooh darling Just one request from the radio I'm back in love, sugar Once again!

"Mmh, Look at you girl. "He breathed in satisfaction, looking as if he could eat you right then and there. His tongue glides over his bottom lip, and his eyes darken with lust. You giggled and rubbed his thigh as you looked into his face.

You squealed with excitement and vigorously shook the box, dancing in place. "What is it!?" touching it to your ear as if you could guess from the sound.

Zyair huffed a chuckle and looked at you, shaking his head. "You goofy lil' mama." he stroked his hand down his beard while looking at you.

Once you were done playing the guessing game, you unwrapped the thing like it was Christmas and you were the luckiest girl on the planet.

Wrapping paper, bows, and cards with the company name on them flew up in the air and scattered onto the bathroom floor. You got to the gilded piece.

It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me

"You like it, Baby?" Zyair cooed, his voice deepening.

"Baby, I don't need this. I have so much alr- "He stopped you before you finished.

"Nah... nah... this is totally different. Unique even. You've earn't it, haven't you? "He says with a slight Louisiana drawl, his shoulders moving as he laughed.

"Y—You're going to collar me, Daddy? "You flung your hands around his thick neck and embraced him. Your eyes watered from his compassionate actions.

"You're the only one I think about and want to be with. I said why the hell not? " He smiled and played with your hair, twirling it between his nimble fingers.

Zyair took the collar from your hands, holding it carefully in the box. He took out the skinny key and unlocked the seamless hinge to open it. You stood in front of him, back turned toward him so that he could put it around your neck.

His hands gently placed the jewelry around your neck and shut it closed using the same key. Tracing it with his finger and mouthing "Mine" while you both look in the mirror.

You looked into his dark eyes with love, facing him as he leaned in to lick your lips and kiss you.

His fingertips turned white as he gripped onto your curvaceous hips, picked you up, and set you atop the stand-alone double sink vanity. You pull him into you by his belt loop and wrap your thighs around his muscular waist.

And it's all because of you It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy (Like crazy, babe) Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me (Whoa, baby)

The both of you all tongues and slobber each other down until you feel his long fingers curling under the silky crotch of the fabric of your lingerie.

You felt the sting of his teeth latch under your jaw as he bites into your neck. You hiss in want.

"Ahh, Zyair..." You breathe into his neck, rubbing down his back.

"Take this shit off. You ain't gonna need it."

He growled as you heard the sharp rip and crack of the cloth coming away as he tugged them off of your body.

His hands fondle and squeeze you until he finds your clit; your body bows from his encircling rhythm as he massages your nub with the fingertips of his index and middle fingers.

The cold from his ring on that finger makes you tense up and sigh. He licked from head to toe with his enormous tongue covering you.

He stops suddenly at your waist. You whine and squirm, but he's holding your arms above your head and looking straight into your eyes.

He licks his lips and winks at you, curling them in that bad boy fashion as he unbuckles his pants achingly slow with one hand, standing up slowly.

You watch, sitting straight up as he holds you, watching him pull pleasure from your inner depths against with your back against the tile of the wall.

His dick threatened to poke you through his Black and Gold PSD briefs. He moaned as he pressed against you. You moaned and purred back at him.

Here come the strings Then somebody sings Only takes a beat And then it starts killin' me, darling Only takes one note, I tell ya From that radio It's just another lonely love song

"Let me take it out, Daddy... please..." you said through gritted teeth, never breaking eye contact. Your breath hitched in your throat and went dry from his persistent teasing.

"Beg for it, and don't waste no time." He looks down at his growing and tenting hard-on, bites his lip, and raises his brow at you, looking back at you with the same taunting look.

You looked confused and in need as you ached for him. Smirking and pressing his lips to your ear as you struggled.

"Use your words. Or we're going to be late."

You begin to break into a cold sweat as droplets appear on your forehead. Trying to comprehend how to get out of this predicament, you slowly open your mouth to say something.

Still, by that time, Zyair was already bringing you down to your knees and grabbing your Goddess locs while ordering you to keep your hands behind your back.

He didn't hesitate as he stood over you, his slacks and boxers down his muscular physique. All you could do was look up at him, mouth drooling at the sight of him.

"Gon' come over here and Suck me," he said mercilessly in a dangerous tone. His voice echoed through the bathroom and made your chest vibrate. You did what you were told.

The way he only emphasized SUCK with feeling made your lower limbs thump with elation. You were already dripping but tried to hold out.

Your breathing increased with each moment that you realized you weren't filled up with his dick. Veiny, beautiful, and thick. You lick your lips in anticipation.

"Mmh, that's my BIG GIRL. What you gonna do with it?" His moans send you shock waves as he insists on teasing you. You use both hands to wrap them around his thick member not sure if it's a rhetorical question or if he was using it as a mind fuck.

Damn.

Zyair snaps your head back against the marble of the vanity. "I can't hear you, Bitch. "He snarls. "I asked you a question."

You squeal at the force and nearly yell from your tummy. " What Daddy told me to!!!!"

He chuckles that deep, devilish laugh again as he releases your hair. Your breathing becomes even more ragged, and you shudder at the sound.

Before he's even done, he grabs the back of your head and forces his hard length deep into your throat. The mere shock causes you to sputter and choke.

With no room to run or breathe, he fucked into it, fisting your hair, making you bend over on all fours as he leaned down over you, smacking your ass precisely on your cheek, leaving it fiery, making it ache and jiggle, gripping your supple flesh as he went to trace a finger down your drenched slit at the same time. He moans, watching the recoil.

You gently swayed your hips from side to side as he played in your wetness, not wanting him to stop as you tried to keep up the pace. He was enjoying being sadistic with you, but it was a first that he hadn't been gentle before.

"Take it all, Mama. Don't stop."

Sucking in a sharp breath at your failed attempts to come up for air.

Coaching you as you did so, using your hair like a lever, tugging at it to make you go deeper and deeper by the inch.

Your legs automatically closed onto his wrist as he sucked his fingers and dipped a few inside you, your essence pooling around your opening.

He dipped his middle finger, then the second finger, taking his sweet time alternating. Making you writhe below him. Soaked and needy was the name of the game.

He twisted and pumped his fingers inside, leaving you leaking around them.

You glucked and gagged on his dick and hissed as he inscribed you just enough to make you whine.

Your gurgling and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, and he wouldn't let up. Looking down at you, biting his lip in pure bliss.

"That's it...Just. Like. That." eliciting a low moan from his lips. You looked into his eyes as your eyeliner smeared down your face from the tears. Making it hard for you to see.

The constant smacking, gagging, and slurping made you close your eyes tight.

The twinkling flames of the candles melting onto the floor and his chiseled face coming in and out as you tried to stay alert. The noises turned you on more than the act. Until you felt a welting smack to the face.

"Look at me. I don't want you focusing on nothin' else." his breath shuddered, and he kept up the same pace until he got tired.

You whimpered from the sudden flush of pain. But kept going, your hands still behind your back. His strokes became less frequent as he slowly slid his dick out of your mouth to the tip.

He was done using your mouth for now. Removing his fingers from your pussy, sucking them clean like he hadn't eaten in days, and cupping a hand under your chin as he stood up at his full height, looking intensely into your eyes like he'd never seen you before.

A soft kiss to your mouth, and You popped him out with a plopping noise and began to jerk and stroke him. A chain of spit latched from your crimson lips to his thick manhood.

"Hold that thought, Princess." He smiled as he walked to the other side of the bathroom. You watched, still in the same position he left you, as he gathered up a slow-burning candle from the floor.

Walking back over to you, he tested the temperature on his inner arm. Nodding and pleased with the degree, he approached you.

"Down." He commanded gruffly.

You used your hands to lower yourself onto the floor on your stomach and breathed in nervously as Zyair stood above your head.

Looking up, he looked even more Godly as you viewed his body from this view below.

You settle, and he crouches beginning to pour some wax onto the middle of your back.

You groan in pain, but as the sting settles into a numbing puddle, your senses begin to awaken.

Some beads down into your ass cheek. He waits to pour more onto the back of your neck and shoulders. You flinch with each interaction.

"Mmmh... " You softly moan; you fidget with anticipation of the next drip.

"You Aight Pretty? " He asks.

"Oh, that feels so good. Daddy," your eyes closed, and your mouth slung open.

"It's been a minute." He says with amusement. "I knew you'd like it."

He pours two more burning spots onto your ass cheeks, stands, and blows the candle out, placing it onto the vanity.

Turning his head so as not to blow any ash or soot into your face, and gently pulls you up.

He sat you back into the plush red and gold vanity chair, his lips meeting yours once more, kissing you down your body, and His tongue engraving tiny circles over your neck and down your breasts. slipping off your bra down your shoulders. You trembled from his touch.

His hands cupping one after the other, his skilled tongue lapping and suckling onto each as he goes from one to the other. You groaned as he bit down and tugged with his front teeth.

"Mmh... Fuck.." you shuddered and gasped at him playing with your body in this way.

Suddenly he lifts you up into the air and parts your legs, holding your weight onto his broad shoulders, suckling and licking your clit into his mouth and greedily scooping his tongue over your soaked folds.

Shoving his tongue in between, you yelped from the sudden waves of pleasure hitting you, and just when it started to get good. He denies you yet again.

Sitting you back down in the chair, he pauses as he lifts each leg and purposely slings your thighs over his shoulders.

Anchoring you by holding the chair, leaving wet kisses down your ankles, and spreading your inner thighs to give them some love, too.

Your eyes closed again, and you rubbed the back of his burst fade as you yearned for him to be inside you.

Reaching out to touch his stomach, his dick poking that triangle made between your legs. You subconsciously thought about shoving his dick inside you. But knew better than to try him.

"Oh fuck baby... Please." You tried to stop him from toying with you, but he only glared at you.

"Please, what? PLEASE WHO?" He asked with a flair of arrogance, tipping your chin up.

" ooouuue.. Daddy..." You whispered.

"Yeah, Be a good girl, Y/N, and be still fo' me." With fervor, he lined himself up at your entrance, stroking himself a bit, holding your head from above to make you watch him slide into you.

"Sssss.... Fuck I missed this pussy, and I missed you so much." He entered you tip first. Forcing himself out and plunging in again profoundly, making your head go back.

"Z-ZYAIR!" you cried out in response to his torture.

Repeatedly dipping himself into you again and again… he was halfway in and hadn't even begun to bottom out this time.

He wrapped his large hand around your neck, and both of you groaned in unison. as he made one swift pump into your creamy nectar.

"Mhm, You feel allat baby? "He coaxed.

You grimaced and blurted out, "Fuck, just fuck me....!" you said, almost screaming. You couldn't take much more as you needed him like water.

smugly looking into your soul he swooped up the chair with you in it, and your body went limp as he slammed into you, filling you up like never before. Leaning into you just enough at an easy tilt that was nothing for him.

The man pressed 350 pounds or more, and this was light work. Your walls clenched down in unison with his pounding strokes, your calves flailing out from over his inner elbows but holding you in place just the same while he kept you right where he wanted you by the seat.

A gut-wrenching moan came from the depths of your stomach as you held onto his shoulders; you leaned into him, the chair leaving the floor as he powerfully thrust into you at the same time.

"You so fuckin' pretty like this." He grunted and praised you as all life had left your body, and nothing was left but the room spinning. You gave way to him, and moans started to escape you.

"Yes, Daddy. Fuck! Daddy! YES," You pleaded and panted in pleasure as he bounced into you non-stop. Through hooded eyes, he watched you getting so close.

Zyair being the pleasure Dom he was is paying attention to how your body heaved and pulsated around him. He slowed, pounded, and roughly used his hips to kiss your cervix as he continued to try to break into your walls.

With calculated potency, he taunted you as you pushed him away, scratching at his abs.

"Na, this is what you wanted, right? Take it," He whispers.

hitting your hands away with one hand. He bucked his hips, going upwards and faster by the second.

In a swift motion he's putting you down on the floor in the chair as your body convulsed in complete surrender.

Your juices gushing in a splash of release. He grunted as your walls cradled his length, still deftly stroking into you, But he wasn't done with you yet.

Zyair moved you from the chair and bent you over in front of him while clutching your neck, his fingers curling on your throat. Dog walking you around the bathroom while pinning your ass to his hips.

He kisses your cheek lovingly as your moans echo throughout the room.

"This shit is mine, Hm?" He asked.

"FUC- FUCK!..."

Your gaze followed Zyair's as you looked back and moved around the bathroom.

You mewed and tried to hold onto anything your hands could find. Rough, long, and hard thrusts make your thighs quake with ecstasy.

You felt his hard abs and balls hit against your clit as he dug into you. His hands squeezing yours comforted you yet made you weak for him as he took control once more.

The squelching and wetness from you only fueled him as he tried to fuck the shit out of you.

"Look atchu creamin' all down my dick and enjoyin' this shit, little girl."

Your eyes fluttered as his words did something to you. You saw stars behind your eyes as you felt wobbly and tense. Your orgasm growing near.

You found the wall to hold yourself up with, looking out into the living room, your claws digging marks into his palm as you grunted.

He chased you with his own release by going harder, pounding, swiveling his hips, and moving his hand to the back of your head, keeping your makeup-stained cheek pressed against the cool cement of the wall.

"SAY IT! " He hummed in your ear.

"ZYAIR! " You came instantly.

You screamed as you squirted all over the floor of the bathroom, making it hard for both of you to stand. Inaudible cursing and degrading remarks flew from his mouth as he nodded in gratification.

You felt warmth rush over you as he sprayed your walls with his seed. He purposely fucked it into you as you tried to squirm away. Removed his hand from your face to open your ass and watch as he made you take all of his kids.

His strokes slowed as the last of your leaking subsided. Both sigh in relief, Holding you by your hips and kissing over your neck as if he couldn't breathe without you. He smiles, holding you against the wall.

"I guess we're late ain't we." He laughs through a smile, his eyes crinkled at the ends as he looks at you.

"Aht, Aht! Fashionably." You taunted.

"You've been in my collection again?" He says with amusement.

"AND WHAT ABOUT IT!? " you rolled your neck in a comical attitude.

"I told you what that does to me, girl. You know nothing about that. My momma gave me those albums. "

"Let's shower before we miss our anniversary party".

With a hard smack on your ass as he grabs towels from the hooks on the walls running playfully after you, your laughing excitedly getting a head start as the last notes of the song come to a staccato.

So sad So sad, so sad (Sad, darling) So sad, sad love song Ooh, I heard it on the radio last night So sad So sad, so sad (Sad, baby) So sad, sad love song (Ooh) You got me singin' another love song all night, darling...

P/C: If you'd like to be added to my Tag list just say so it's MAD OPEN! i'll be glad to add you. I really do hope ya'll enjoyed it. Lord knows I had a time writing it for ya'll!

Special Shout out and a thank you to: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @melaninpov @browngirldominion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes For bullying me..... (Nah just kiddin!) For making me see this through. all inspirational to me and incredible moots!

96 notes · View notes

gallavichthings · 5 months

Text

It's time!

How would you all like 21 22 fics on the 21st 22nd of December?

The Gallavich Masquerade Ball 2023 is now open! Grab a glass of champagne or anything else you'd prefer, some hors d'oeuvres, and choose your (first) dance partner for the night!

You can check all the fics in our AO3 collection or on this post, after the cut. A list of all authors with links to their profiles is also included. This post is pinned so you can check it whenever you want.

And here's the link for the form where you can put your guesses. It's only one form for all the fics, so please wait to submit your guesses only after you've read them all.

Here's the updated point system:

Points for readers: Correct guess on first choice: 5 points. Correct guess on second choice: 2 points. Incorrect guess: lose 1 point. (Please note that you only lose 1 point per story, even if you guess incorrectly on both choices.)

Points for writers: If someone correctly guesses your fic (regardless of in the first or second choice): 1 point. If someone wrongfully guesses your fic: 3 points.

Leaving kudos and comments is allowed and appreciated! Writers are also allowed to answer, but it's up to them whether to already do it or wait until everyone's identity is revealed so as not to give anything away accidentally. Oh, and if you want to post something about the fics here on Tumblr but can't tag them, I can serve as buffer for now lol.

Oh, and the surprise? The winners will get some great fanart, courtesy of the talented @doshiart! Isn't that awesome?! 🥂

Cheers!

Keep reading to get a list of all the fics with their summaries and word count, as well as a list of all the authors, with links to their AO3 profiles.

FICS:

AITA? (2,072)

AITA? My new clients (29M and 31M) threatened me and I want to fire them. I know that’s not official therapist speak. TLDR; I want to encourage them to have healthier boundaries and find a new therapist, but until then, what do I do?

Attitude adjustment (4,483)

Post-canon Ian and Mickey figure out some relationship issues. That includes insults, (play-)fighting, more insults, and orgasms. Or: Mickey is having an attitude. Thank god Ian knows exactly what to do.

Black Charcoal meets Fiery Red (1,838)

Ian poses in a life drawing class. A straight forward job, if not for the guy with the blue eyes who can't stop staring at him.

Carnival (3,136)

Ian and Mickey spend the evening at a carnival... "Ian locked the car’s door, and put his arms around Mickey’s shoulders, as they walked towards the carnival. He had brought the leaflet home a few days ago, wiggling the colorful sketch of a carousel and the outdated font under Mickey’s nose with some hopeful glee. Mickey had protested for habit sake, but had caved in pretty easily..."

Five Dates with Brad f*cking Pitt (4,269)

Sometimes things may not be what they seem. Especially when there are assholes around who add fuel to the fire just for the sake of a fucking joke.

Groceries (2,260)

A routine trip to the store turns into a trip down memory lane.

The Guardians (4,879)

3,000 years ago, they had to join forces to defeat an evil sorcerer. Now, the sorcerer was back, and more powerful than ever. Could they defeat him for good?

i'll find a new place to be from (5,947)

They stand in silence for a couple beats, unspoken words lingering above their heads. The cig in his hand has long burned out and Ian resists the temptation to light up another, and another. He feels his mouth open, and close, then open again–but nothing comes out. Time’s up. "See you inside, Red," Mickey finally says before pushing the door open, and Ian remembers how to breathe.

Infused Attraction (3,434)

Mickey has to receive Iron infusions. Ian is a student nurse who is assisting the other nurses with the infusion. Mickey is interested in the redhead. Ian is seemingly interested in him too. Let's see how it goes!

Italy (I Trust And Love You) (3,183)

"Ian closed his eyes and ran a hand through his damp hair. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. Took a deep breath, as if to steal himself for some monumental task, and walked off down the sidewalk. The rain made quick work of drenching him. Ian didn’t seem to notice. In the dirt beneath the tree, drawn in crude blocky letters made with the toe of his boot: I + M." OR A story mostly told through Debbie's eyes during world war two, as she worries for all her brothers, but particularly the one sent home much before the rest.

Jump To Recipe (5,977)

Hiring Mickey Milkovich - Freelance Photographer to shoot the photos for his food blog was the best move Ian’s ever made. Mickey’s a fantastic shot, plus he’s committed to the success of Ian’s blog. (He’s fucking hot, too. But that’s just an added bonus.) And the best thing about him, is that in all the ways he’s professional behind the camera, he’s refreshingly unprofessional to Ian’s face. Which means when he comes around, Ian always knows he’s in for a good laugh, intriguing conversation, and an ego boost - Mickey never shy about how much he loves Ian’s food when they dig in after the shoot. Ian’s made chocolate lava cake today. But when extra time leads to their at-home appointment going way off script - Mickey wanting to update Ian’s headshots, but with a twist - who will the spicier photos leave wanting more, the “housewife army” from his blog’s comment section, or Ian and Mickey?

A Lot (4,245)

What could have happened if Ian had told Mickey that he was worried about going to Mexico with him?

The man in the van (2,141)

“Suppose I should thank you for the compliment then,” Ian teases, smirking a little. The guy snorts. “Don’t mention it, Red. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He proceeds to shamelessly check Ian out again, licking the corner of his mouth as he does. or Ian Gallagher wouldn't mind some excitement in his life. Enter one Mickey Milkovich, ready to oblige.

ole red (5,596)

Mickey is out of prison and walking the straight and narrow with help of his cheering section, P.O. Larry . It’s hard being tough in a pastel polo and dad shorts. Old Army is just a paycheck until he meets the assistant manager, Ian. Finally he figures out Ian was Mandy’s Ian from their teen years. Mickey is attracted to the redhead but is still closeted. Ian responds to Mickey lashing out by revealing he knows Mickey’s secret. Mickey decides to be brave and the reward , huge 😈

The Reason to Exist (4,851)

lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: can you stop stealing my loot lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: this team only needs 1 sharpshooter anyway 😐 mm1234567890 [18:23]: shut up u f** lieutenantcolonel [18:23]: WHAT

Red Hot (4,364)

Ian's workday has been shitty... but his afternoon might just be very different. Thanks to his favorite nephew and a certain mouthy and opinionated stall owner at the winter farmer's market.

A Salute Before We Sink (4,601)

The world will end tomorrow. Ian's only chance at survival is to earn a spot in an underground bunker. One man stands in his way.

Snowballs and Sneaking Out (2,441)

Mickey shows up to the Gallagher House in the middle of the night with a surprise for Ian.

So drunk on you (3,878)

"Then Mickey launches himself into quite a detailed account of the previous evening and there goes Ian’s sanity. He’s learned over the months to hone his selective hearing. That is, he’s not tuning Mickey out completely but he’s trained his brain to gloss over the facts that fall under the TMI category and focus on the highlights. Again, for the sake of his sanity. Because the thing is, he’s so gone on Mickey it’s actually embarrassing. And he’s been gone pretty much from the very beginning." Just another friends-to-lovers story.

Span the Distance, Bridge the Border (4,988)

Ian and Mickey are happy, living on the West Side and adjusting to life as husbands in their new apartment. Things are going well, really well, until one day Mickey’s brothers show up. And God only knows what they could possibly want.

weight of the world (3,360)

Mickey thought he was fucked for life and that he’d never see his mom again. Turns out he was wrong about both of those things.

Wonderful- a Gallavich Christmas Mini-fic (5,030)

In which Mickey learns the reason for the season or How the Mick gained Christmas.

AUTHORS:

Blodeuwedd

Calli_Writes

Captain_Jowl

energie_vie

Gallabitch73

gallawitch

Gembu

GrandSelfMythology

IanGalagher

JuliaKay

lingy910y

MissSnowwhitepink

mmmichyyy

My_Brain_Melted

NotHereNJ

Rayrayor

sam_writes_fics

Suzy_Queue

sweet_perversion

Sweetbee78

whatthebodygraspsnot

whatyouandihave

#Gallavich #Ian x Mickey #Shameless #Shameless US #Gallavich fanfiction #Gallavich Masquerade 2023 #Events #Mod post #now updated

170 notes · View notes

fanfican · 1 year

Text

How to get more 👀 on your fic

If you're anything like me, you have over 40 one-chapter WIPs that have been languishing for years without the fire only loyal readers (and their comments) can fuel.

It's a vicious cycle--readers aren't interested in incomplete stories that haven't been updated for years, but I'm not interested in writing more if nobody's reading my work.

Luckily, I've figured out a quick and easy method to get readers for these incomplete fics.

To demonstrate how effective my method can be, let's take a look at Subscribe and Save Me, one of my fics that never got the attention it deserves:

Now, for some reason, this fic hasn't found an audience yet. But we can easily fix that!

Here are some of the secrets that Big Fanfiction sites don't want you to know:

A lot of readers are looking for long and completed fics.

A03, Wattpad, and FFN don't employ people to check that fics marked "complete" are actually complete.

They also don't employ anyone to check that chapters aren't just "Cera loves Ducky" copied and pasted thousands of times.

You can still add more chapters to a "completed" fic after it gets some readers and comments to help wake up your muse.

So, you can see that the best way to get new readers invested in our WIPs is simply adding fake chapters and marking our WIPs complete.

Look how much more enticing Subscribe and Save Me looks with these updates:

Don't be fooled! I didn't actually write 11 new chapters. In fact, most of my chapters just consist of this:

But despite how easy it is, this method has always gotten me hits and comments:

Wow! Two new comments already--and I'll get that comment count up to four when I reply "Nothing," and "Very happy indeed!"

Good luck out there, friends! Hopefully this strategy brings you as much success as it's brought me!

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #author's note #writing #writing tips #advice

864 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Epinephrine

Summary: Bucky races to win as you watch with anticipation.

Pairing: Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Nerves, K-I-S-S-I-NG, swearing, POV switch, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @saradika. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. A/N: My third Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 3) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse for @buckybarnesevents! Set in my Dialed In AU, but can be read as a standalone. Apologies for any inaccuracies, but I'm human and still had fun writing this.❤️ Thank you @targaryenvampireslayer for the POV switch suggestion! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Epinephrine. Both a hormone and a neurotransmitter, the chemical messenger transmits nerve signals to prepare your body for fight or flight. Most call it adrenaline. Some liken it to pre-race jitters.

Bucky considered it his own personal fuel.

Just breathe.

It amazed him how so many wrote off motocross as just another sport without considering the physical and mental training they put into it or how dangerous it was. Position, weight distribution, and correct form on the bike were all things to consider when practicing and racing. Not to mention no two tracks are alike, the conditions constantly changing. You had to take the hills, jumps, turns, and distance for your own safety and those around you.

He mentally wished Steve and the others a safe race, even Rumlow. Prick or not, he didn’t want the guy to get hurt. He sure as hell didn't want to lose to him either.

"For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t hit him. Because he would have won and guys like him don’t deserve to win."

No, he doesn't.

His heart raced a little faster, his right palm starting to sweat as the nerves and excitement clashed in his chest. The knot in his stomach settled as he waited for the race to start, his focus on the path in front of him. The rough terrain ahead called to him, urging him to unleash whatever anger, fear, joy, and anything he had built up inside. He would go all out, leaving no regrets in his path.

All leading to you after he crossed the finish line.

"Good luck."

Gave me all the luck I need, Spitfire.

With your voice in his mind, it quieted any doubt that lingered. He knew his strengths and even his limits when it came to the sport. Getting back on the bike after his accident already proved that he was a winner. He didn't need to prove himself to anyone else.

But he hoped you would see his worth.

And as the gate dropped, he smiled behind his helmet.

You grabbed Natasha's arm as the riders took off, keeping an eye out for Bucky. She didn't pull away or make a comment when you dug your nails in. You appreciated her a bit more because of that. You also didn't understand why you were nervous when you weren't the one on the track.

I've seen plenty of races, but I didn't have anything at stake before.

"Sorry," you muttered as you let the redhead go.

"It's okay. He's got this," she assured you.

You nodded, doing your best to give her a smile. A mile and a half long course and likely a twenty to thirty minute race and extra lap, you knew it was standard. But watching the dirt fly as you focused on Bucky's helmet, your heart felt like it was in your throat. You didn't just want him to win, you wanted him safe.

Just breathe. He knows what he's doing.

"If he gets hurt, I'm kicking his ass," you said, sucking in a breath as another rider got close to his back wheel.

"And nurse him back to health," Natasha teased.

"Yeah. With a uniform and all," you teased, actually kind of into the idea.

Down girl.

You got uncharacteristically quiet after that, your stomach dropping when Maddox gained on Bucky. He was still in a good position, his friend, Steve, up there with him. It was almost like witnessing a roller coaster ride, the ups and downs, the twists and drops. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you could only imagine how the guys out there felt actually experiencing it.

Exhilarating.

As the riders got close to the final lap, you jumped up. You somehow stayed on your feet when your head spun, but you weren't going to miss this. Bucky and Maddox were almost neck-in-neck, but Maddox probably thought he had it in the bag. That kind of cockiness didn't always pay off.

You sure as hell didn’t want it to pay off today.

"Come on, Hothead," you whispered.

While Maddox turned his head to look at Bucky, the latter kept his head facing forward and elbows up. As if he didn't care that his competition was there. He raced smarter, not harder, as you watched with bated breath. He kept his lead toward the finish line as you couldn’t help but smile.

Bucky Barnes won the race.

He won. He fucking won.

"Fuck yes!" you shouted, uncaring of your language as Bucky took first, his left fist pumping in the air. The way everyone else cheered, they probably didn't notice. But you finally felt like you could take a proper breath, the mental ride coming to a stop. "For the record, I'm just happy he made it across the finish line. This has nothing to do with the date."

I can actually smell my own bullshit.

"Wow. You managed to say that with a straight face. Impressive," Natasha said, nodding toward the course as the race wrapped up. "Come on. Let's go congratulate him. And by we I mean you."

"He raced a good race. It was very exciting," you said evenly, but you eagerly pulled her along to get out of the stands and through the crowd.

You weren’t sure if you were actually allowed to go up to greet him, but people moved to let you through. Was it your strut or Natasha’s subtle stare that made everyone jump out of the way? As you got closer to Bucky and the other riders, you felt like your heart was going to race out of your chest when you stopped at the edge of the course. Especially when took off his helmet, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he shook his hair out.

Fuck me in the dirt, please.

“Go,” Natasha encouraged after some of the guys congratulated Bucky, except for Maddox who stood feet away with a glare on his face.

Sore loser doesn’t look good on him, but he’s not why I’m here.

Holding your head high, you locked eyes with Bucky when he looked your way. Seemingly forgetting the others around him, he walked toward you to meet you halfway when you stepped in the dirt. The two of you stood there for a long moment before he smirked. A slight one, but still a smirk.

“Looks like I won,” he said, his voice rough.

“You did. Congratulations,” you said, stepping back to hold out your hand. “And it looks like you get to go out with me, so double congratulations,” you simpered, previous annoyance that he bet a date with you completely forgotten.

“Are we shaking on it?” he chuckled, his gloved hand reaching for yours. A spark of electricity moved up your arm once he took it and you refused to deny your attraction at that moment.

“You could say that,” you smirked, yanking him close. “But I prefer to seal it with a kiss.”

You took a moment to appreciate how soft and warm his lips felt when you initiated the kiss this time. You allowed his tongue to slip inside and explore when you parted your lips, feeling the beat of his heart as he pressed his chest against your body. It wasn’t hard or urgent, but excitement and passion consumed you. It didn’t matter if he got your clothes dirty. Or that a few of the riders whistled and cheered at the display.

He smiled against your lips when you had to take a breath. “I thought you said you weren’t a prize.”

“And I thought you said your ass was all mine after you win,” you reminded him, almost wishing you reached around to squeeze it. Even dirty and sweaty, he still looked and smelled amazing. It was a phenomenon.

“I did and I meant it,” he said, sneaking in another kiss before he had to pull away. “You sticking around?”

“I’ll be with Nat. Go do what you have to,” you said, turning away to back to your friend. She had a smile on her face. You had one on yours, too.

“I still have to get your number, so don’t go anywhere!” Bucky called after you.

“Who said I was giving you my number?” you asked over your shoulder. “I never agreed to that.”

“How am I supposed to take you on a date without it?” he asked.

“You seem like a smart guy. You’ll figure it out, Hothead,” you teased, egging him on just a little.

“Want me to get on my knees, Spitfire?”

Yes and split me open with that talented tongue of yours.

“She’ll give you her number,” Natasha said, waving Bucky on as you laughed. You may have checked his ass out again because he did say it was yours. And he no doubt checked yours out as you walked away. “You are giving him your number before we leave.”

“I will,” you promised, giving her a small smile. “I’m glad you introduced me to him,” you added gently, looking forward to getting to know him more.

“And I’m glad you put a smile back on his face.”

Hearing that felt like a victory.

I guess we’re both winners today, Hothead.

Yay! He won! Was there ever any doubt? More to come. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

606 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 1 year

Text

His Protection {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Post apocalyptic violence, mentions of gun violence, mentions of blood, murder, torture, gore, rough sex, unprotected sex, kidnapping, imprisonment, threats of cannibalism, unhinged delusions of grandeur, fire, being restrained, allusions to sexual assault

Comments: When David's group takes you and Ellie to their settlement, you warn them that Joel will come for you. Knowing that he will do whatever it takes to get back those under his protection.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

GIF credit: @trashcora

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“NO!” Your scream is loud, echoing and you don’t care that the men who are hunting for the three of you are now aware of your position. Pressing your rifle into your shoulder, you squeeze off a round, making the man who had shot her fucking horse duck behind some trees as you sling the weapon over your shoulder and race through the snow to where Ellie had been thrown. Joel will kill you if something happens to her. Already upset that she had snuck off to hunt while you were sleeping after spending the night taking care of Joel and ended up running across some men in the woods. Yes, she had brought back medicine that Joel desperately needed, but they were also a part of the group that had nearly killed him. Now they are hunting all of you and Joel is still barely conscious in the basement of that house.

Dropping down to your knees, you reach for her. “Ellie, come on, Ellie. Wake up!” You urge, slapping her face to try to make her focus. Her eyes flitter and slip closed again, making you worry that the fall from the horse had hurt her. “Come on, open your eyes. We need to get out of here.” The crunching footsteps through the snow get closer and you turn right before the butt of a rifle slams down into your forehead.

Joel knows that you and Ellie are in danger and that’s the only thing that gets him up from the mattress he’s been laying on. He’s delirious, but the adrenaline surges through him as he ties both men up after killing the one who had come down to the basement. He’s furious, both with himself and you and Ellie for getting into this situation but mainly himself. “Where the fuck are they?” He growls and the guy is shaking his head. Frustrated, he stabs into his kneecap and the guy moans, making Joel offer him a demented smile, pleased to see the agony in his eyes.

“Oh fuck!”

The man in the chair screams and the one that is tied to the piano cries out in shock. “Jesus!” “Marco-”

Panting, Joel reaches for the man’s head and fists his hair. “No, no, no, no, no. He can’t help you, focus right here.” He rumbles, “or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.” Joel is in agony, wound hurting but he will do whatever it takes to get you back, to get Ellie back. Rage fuels him, the fact that the people he is supposed to protect are now in danger giving him the strength to torture a man like he wasn’t just on his sick bed.

Your head aches as you wake up, blinking as the light stings your eyes and they widen when you realize you’re in a cage. “Fuck. Ellie! Ellie! Are you okay?” You look over at the girl who is in the cage opposite you. She groans, barely able to get up when the door opens and that bastard walks in. “Ah good. You’re awake.” He declares and you curl your lip at him.

“You have no idea what’s coming for you, you stupid prick.” You chuckle and he walks over to your cage, “your friend is gone. My men killed him.”

You blink, the fear that Joel has actually been killed racing through you for a moment but you can’t let this prick see that. There is something off about him, a cruelty in his eyes that you have seen in plenty of men since the end of rule of law. Shaking your head, you laugh. “You poor son of a bitch, you have no idea what he is capable of. Things that would make you squeamish.”

****

“Joel!” You scream, he and Tommy engage in a fight as a raider grabs you, dragging you back towards the truck that’s waiting for him. You struggle, kicking and screaming but it’s no use. You see Joel turn towards you after he defeats the asshole fighting him with a swift blow to the head, and his eyes widen when he sees you being dragged away. Shouting your name, he tries to run towards you but it’s too late, you’re soon being driven away in the truck with raiders, praying that Joel will find you.

“Shut up, bitch!” After they had dragged you out of the truck about five miles away. Pain explodes across your cheek when the one you had bitten when he had reached back to keep you from trying to strangle the driver to get away backhands you.

“He’s going to fucking kill you.” You promise him after you spit out a mouthful of blood. “Let me go, let me leave and go back and he won’t.”

They laugh at you, shaking their heads, and grab the rope to tie you up. “Don’t worry, sweet thing. We will look after you real good. Your boyfriend ain’t gonna know where to find you, let alone get a chance to kill us.” He laughs and you snort, “it’s your fucking funeral.”

Joel paces, staring at the map while he and Tommy try to figure out where you’ve been taken. Tess has already gone out to check on the trails for any tire marks but Joel is growing more desperate by the second. “They are gonna hurt her, Tommy.” Joel growls at his brother.

“She ain’t gonna let them touch her. She’s strong.” Tommy reassures his brother and Joel stares back at the map. Desperate to get to you before something bad happens.

You know it’s meant as a power play, making you cook the food that they had stolen from your group. But it keeps them from touching you as you lean over the fire and stir the pot. Making sure you had chosen the things that would take the longest to cook and require constant attention. Giving Joel time to catch up to them. Poor bastards were unaware they had decided to fuck with a group of hunters.

Joel trudges through the forest, rifle aimed towards the compound as Tommy follows him with Tess. He’s hungry for revenge, for blood, and he’s going to get it. After Tommy strangles the guard, he sneaks into the compound, ready to take out these motherfuckers that dare kidnap you. The first one he comes across gets shot in the head, brain matter flying and the alarms start to sound, red lights flashing as the raiders announce his arrival.

You look up, grinning when you hear the alarms. Looking over at the bastard who had hit you, suddenly looking a lot less confident. “He’s here.” You spit. “You better run, or better yet - save him the trouble and just put a bullet in your brain.”

Joel shoots another guy in the head in his efforts to find you, more blood splattering on his face from the recoil and he chuckles, pleased to see another fucker go down. He’s going to torture the leader, make him pay for taking you.

“Shut up! You’re just a fucking whore.” He grabs you, turning you around and pressing his gun to your temple. “You’ll find out that pussy isn’t worth what you think it is.” He hisses in your ear as he watches the door nervously. Hearing the sounds of people being mowed down behind the steel door. Until there is nothing but silence and you hold your breath, wondering what he is doing.

Joel kicks the doors open, Tommy behind him, and he’s covered in blood. Some men he shot, others he slit their throats, some he stabbed. He’s a monster, determined to get you back. When he sees the asshole who took you has a gun aimed at your head, he growls out a warning. “Let her go and maybe I’ll consider letting you survive.” He lies, knowing the bastard is dead.

You hiss when his grip on you tightens, the relief at seeing Joel has your heart pounding. You knew he would come and his eyes flicker over to you, obviously pissed before he glares back at the man who had taken you. “I told you he would come.” You scoff smugly. “You fucked with the wrong group.”

The bastard presses the gun harder into your head. “Don’t fucking try me, man. I’ll blow her brains out.” He warns, making you whimper when the cold metal starts to hurt. Joel’s upper lip curls in disgust and he growls, aiming to shoot the prick in the knee, making him collapse and you move fast to grab his gun that clatters to the floor.

“I fucking warned you!” Joel shouts, walking over to shoot him in the other knee, rendering him unable to move. “You dare take from me, motherfucker. You’ll pay.” Joel growls, shooting the guy in the upper thigh, close to his crotch.

Stumbling away, you watch as Joel holsters his gun and lunges for him. Apparently wanting to do things more intimately, make him suffer before he puts him out of his misery. Grabbing him and punching him in the face twice before hauling him over towards the chair he had been sitting in before Joel arrived, “Tommy, watch the door.” Joel grunts out, grabbing the man’s hair and pulling his head back. “We’re gonna be here awhile.”

The man, even though he’s in agony, spits at Joel. “Fuck you. Fuck you and your whore.” He growls, shaking his head at Joel who smiles, almost manic, as he grabs the knife. “You took what belongs to me. You’re gonna pay until you’re begging me to kill you.” He chuckles darkly while Tommy watches the door. Joel grabs his knife, dragging it along the man’s cheek until he reaches his eye. “Have you ever seen a man get his eye taken out?” Joel asks and the man loses his shit, shaking his head.

“No. Please. Don’t.” He begs and Joel grabs his hair, “keep still.” He commands and pushes the knife into his eye.

You flinch, listening to the scream of agony and hopelessly, watching as blood and clear optical fluid slides down the man’s cheek. Struggling to get free but he’s also well aware that an inch deeper and Joel will kill him. The knife is close to his brain.

“Please! Just go! Take her and go!” He howls, kicking his feet as the pain radiates through his body.

“I’m not done yet.” Joel growls, dragging the knife out of his eye and trailing it over to his ear. “You need to use your eyes and ears, son. Know when shit isn’t for you to take.” Joel growls, gripping his ear so he can start slicing it from his head.

The howl of pain is almost animalistic, cut off with a breathless cry. Gasping for air as he sobs. The wet plot of his ear hits the ground and Tommy groans. “Come on Joel, let’s go.” He looks back from his post at the door, queasy but you know Joel isn’t done yet.

He’s not done, the blood drips off of his hand as he grabs his hand, “you fucking touch her?” He asks the guy who is almost passed out from the pain. He doesn’t respond. “Did. You. Fucking. Touch. Her?” He roars and the guy whimpers, “no. No. I - I promise.”

Joel looks over at you, “he didn’t.”

Joel feels relieved and he’s ready to end it. Adjusting the knife, he stabs the asshole in the chest. Over and over again. Splatting himself with blood until it’s pooling on the floor. “Joel!” Tommy shouts, eyes wide at the brutality of his brother.

“Joel.” You step closer and reach out, grabbing onto his arm. “Joel!” Your voice manages to break through the bloodlust rushing through his veins and there is a moment where he turns and his eyes are black and almost void of emotion other than rage. Making your cunt clench at the lengths this man will go to in order to protect you. “Let’s go. We need to go.”

Joel stares at you for a moment before he nods, knowing you need to get somewhere safe in case others are returning. He wipes his knife, hands still covered in blood, and he grabs his rifle after holstering the knife to guide you out of the compound.

Grabbing the supplies that they had stolen from you, the three of you hurry away. Listening for any sounds of people following as the sounds of the alarms from their base location starts to fade and be replaced with the sounds of the forest around you. Panting as the adrenaline courses through your veins and you know that you need him. Your cunt flooded with slick and your clit throbbing at how vicious he had been and alarmed at how turned on you are from it. “Joel.” You whimper, making him stop and turn to you, a concerned scowl on his face. “I need- we need to find somewhere. Now.”

Joel knows what you need, what he needs, and he nods as he grabs your hand. Tommy and Tess know what’s happening and let him drag you off while they slowly continue ahead. Joel finds a private space between the trees and sets his rifle down, reaching for you to push you against the tree, his lips finding yours.

Needy and frantic, you grab his shoulders, moaning when his tongue slides into your mouth. Pulling him closer before you try to hastily strip off your pants. Needing him inside you now. The pounding of your heart matches the throbbing in your pussy and it doesn’t matter that blood from the men he had tortured smears across your skin when he grabs your waist before flicking the buttons of your jeans open.

He grunts as he shoves your jeans down to your ankles, kicking them open before he works on his own pants, blood smearing and he grabs your wrist, “take my cock out.” He orders, needing you to do it so he doesn’t get the blood on you, in you. You nod and take his cock out, lifting your leg as much as possible so he can push inside of you. The adrenaline still runs high for Joel so he grabs your thighs, lifting you up to push you against the tree, his cock sinking deep.

He grunts, unable to say anything as he pushes deep inside of you over and over again. His hand leaving your thigh to come up and grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You’re mine. I would kill them all over again if it means keepin’ you safe, baby.” He vows, their blood on your skin and he loves it, sees it as his victory to have their blood staining your skin instead of yours on their hands.

You whine out his name breathlessly. “Joel.” You love the way his pace is bruising, brutally reminding you of the fact that you are his. Every thrust makes you wince and ache and yet you are trying your best to roll your hips to help him as your hands grip his shoulders. “Yours- on-only yours.” You promise, watching his eyes gleam in satisfaction when you agree with him.

Joel grunts in approval, his eyes are wild, and he knows he must be so deep inside of you that it almost hurts but he can’t stop. “Fuck. I cant - can’t live without you.” He promises, knowing he’d kill every last person on the planet if he needs to so he can get to you. “Need you.” He groans, leaning down to bite your neck, his bloodied hands sliding along your waist and down to your thighs.

The slap of his hips and the tiny mewls that you make every time he pushes you into the tree are all you can hear beyond his grunts. Heavy and guttural, growling as he fucks into you. “F-fuck.” You gasp, tightening your thighs around him. “Fuck Joel.” You know you’re gonna cum soon, needing to cum.

He grits his teeth, struggling to keep control as he pushes deep inside of you over and over again, the image of you dead or beaten making him desperate to assure himself that you’re alive, you’re here in his arms. “Cum. Need you to cum.” He demands, panting as he leans in to press his lips to yours.

There’s a desperation in the way he hammers into you. The rough growl of his demand and the domineering way he kisses you. Making you cling to him and cry out when the need to cum overwhelms you and you fall over the edge. Clamping down around him and shaking as he holds you up, gasping out his name again while hot waves of cum coat his cock.

Joel hisses when you clamp down on his cock, making him push harder, seeking his own orgasm from your body. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He grunts, hating that he has to pull out but he manages to before he spills inside of you. His hot seed spurted onto the ground and the treebark. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses, fingers flexing around your thighs.

Panting, your forehead drops onto his shoulder and you close your eyes. Breathing him in, sweat and man mingled with blood in an intoxicating combination that makes you feel safer rather than unease around a man who could and would do atrocious things for those he cares about. “I love you, Joel.” You murmur quietly, aware that even if he didn’t say the words, he did love you. He had just proven it.

“You know how I feel, sweetheart.” He murmurs, knowing that years of emotional agony have closed his heart down but you came in and ripped the doors open, letting yourself inside and locking it back up. He knows you know how he feels. “Come on, let’s get goin’. It’s gonna be dark soon.” He lets you down and grunts as he tucks himself away.

****

Left alone again, you and Ellie start trying to find a way out, testing the bolts of the fencing that has been used as a holding cell. “Listen to me, Joel will come.” You assure the girl, aware that David has unnerved her. She senses there is something very wrong with the man and this group just like you do and you trust her instincts. She’s a survivor. She’s on the floor and she gasps, stumbling back and falling on her ass right as the door into the room opens again and David comes back inside with two trays of food.

Ellie watches him set the tray down at your cage before he carries the tray over to hers. She stares at the stew before she looks back at the ear, eyes widening and David looks back over his shoulder before he sighs. “For what it’s worth, this is just deer meat. I swear.” He says and you stare at the stew, not trusting him.

“You gonna chop us up into little pieces?” Ellie asks and you look between David and Ellie.

“I’d rather not.” David looks over at you, “please just tell me your names.”

Both of you are silent, already agreeing that this bastard won’t know your names. “If you want to judge me-” David sighs, still kneeling down.

“Judge you!” Ellie shouts. “You’re eating people you sick fuck!” She rushes her cage and kicks the tray back out, spilling the questionable meal over the tiles. You realize now that you are in a butchering room, the drain in the floor there for an easier clean up.

David has backed up and glances at you before looking back and where Ellie has walked away from the door. “Yes.” He answers and you scoff, shaking your head. “There are only a few of us that know.” He confides and that makes your blood run cold. No one would willingly give that information to someone they were going to allow to live.

“Let us go.” You demand.

David ignores you. “But I would’ve told you.” He tells you both, staring at Ellie in a way that makes your blood run cold. “Sooner or later. Sooner I guess.”

You are forced to listen to David give his reason why he hasn’t told his people about what they are eating, that he sees how violent Ellie is. You watch him step towards her and she looks at you, placing her hand on top of his. You know she’s going to try something and you worry what his reaction will be. When she bends back his fingers and reaches for the keys, you scream when he slams her face into the door and she stumbles back, failing to grab the keys. “You little cunt!” David growls and you slam your hand against the wire, “leave her the fuck alone.” You growl and David chuckles, walking over to you. “I guess you’re with the asshole who protected her, huh? How does it feel to be with a murderer? Someone who cannot be redeemed under the eyes of God?”

“And you are?” You sneer, glaring at him. “You have a darker soul than he does. You just hide it behind your religion and the fear you instill in your people.” You smirk at him. “Come here and I’ll do more than break your fucking fingers, you sick fuck.”

David huffs but he doesn’t make a move towards your cage. “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.” He storms towards the door and Ellie growls, “Ellie.” You hiss in annoyance, not wanting him to know her name. David turns around. “What?”

Ellie crawls towards the gate, her face covered in blood. “Tell them that Ellie is the little girl,” she starts softly before starting to yell, “who broke your fucking finger!”

David glares at her. “How did you put it? Hm? Tiny little pieces?” He flings the door open and leaves the two of you alone again.

“Shit….” you scramble over to piece of fence that separates your pen from Ellie’s “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

Joel pants as he fights through the wind and snow, trying to find where this fucking resort is. He comes across a barn and grunts as he breaks the door, walking in to find the horse he had ‘stolen’ from Tommy’s on the ground, dead and frozen, and then he turns to see the bodies. “Fuck.” He chokes, knowing these freaks are fucking cannibals. He has to get to you and Ellie. Your backpacks are on the ground and he slings on over each shoulder, groaning with the extra weight but he pursues, battling the snow once more in his rush to get to his girls.

You had managed to get one side of the fencing between your cells open by the time that David comes back, this time with the other one, James. Ellie starts screaming and you rush towards the gates when they bypass your cell and unlock hers. “Leave her alone, you bastards.” You cry, not wanting to give away that you can get into her cell yet, knowing they will leave the door open. “Leave her alone! Assholes!”

“Wait! Wait!” Ellie yells as the guy surges in to grab her, pulling her out and they lay her down on the table. “Wait! Wait! Wait!” She cries.

“Stop!” You scream when they grab the cleaver and hold her down.

“Don’t do it. Please. Wait!” She begs and David sighs, “you had your chance.” Ellie sobs, “I’m infected.”

“Ellie!” You hiss, but you see the fear in the men’s eyes, especially David when he realizes that Ellie has bitten him. The meat cleaver doesn’t come down like he anticipated and Ellie looks up at him “And now so are you.” You start to move towards the opening in the fence so you can slip into her cell. “Roll up my sleeve. Look at it. Look at it!” She demands, her eyes flickering over to you and then back up at him. David slams the cleaver down, embedding it in the wood next to Ellie’s head, nearly making your heart stop and he drags her sleeve up to reveal the scars from her healed bite.

“David.” The other man, James, stares at the scar in horror.

David shakes his head, “no. No. She would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.” He stares at the pattern on her arm.

“It looks pretty fucking real to me.”

David looks at Ellie and she grabs the cleaver, putting it in David’s friend’s neck and you duck under the fence as Ellie shuffles off of the table and opens the door, both of you managing to escape as David fires his gun at you, narrowly missing you.

Running through the kitchens, you realize that you have been taken to a restaurant. Darting out into the dinning room to try to get out of the front doors but they are locked. Making you turn around and scramble back through the kitchen. Ellie grabs a burning ember and you take it from her, pushing her back behind you as you crouch behind a half wall as the doors from the kitchen swing open and David strides through.

When David strides through, you throw the ember at him and he ducks, sending the flame into the curtains and the restaurant starts to ignite. You grab Ellie and duck behind the bar, watching her grab a knife. “There’s no way out. The doors are locked and I have the key.”

You know now that this man is completely deranged, obsessed with the idea that Ellie is his and he is hunting her now. You put your finger up to your lips to tell Ellie to be quiet before you shift around her, wanting to make sure that there is an extra barrier between him and her. David calls out her name tauntingly, as if he’s playing hide and seek. “Ellie!” You close your eyes, hoping that Joel is still hidden in that basement so you can get back to him and get the fuck away from here. Fire licks up the wooden beams of the restaurant. “Ellie. Ellie.” You peer around the edge of the bar. “I know you're not infected.” He calls out. “No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.” Both of you try to calm your breathing and wait him out.

“So…how did you do it?” He asks, walking around the restaurant, “what’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?” He taunts, “no one likes being humiliated, Ellie.” He spins around, “you don’t know how good I am!” He shouts and you grip the knife. “You don’t know what I could’ve given you! If you had just let me! Well…I have news for you. None of us are dying today. You see, I changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father.” He says your name, learning it when Ellie had cried it out on the table, “she needs a husband. So I’m gonna keep you both and I’m gonna teach you. Ellie?” He calls out her name then yours. “Ellie.” He sings and you crouch, moving behind the bar into position.

Rushing out, you lunge for David, aware that you need to kill him. Ducking down as he swings the meat clever he had pulled out of James’s neck, you drive the knife into his kidney. He grabs you and throws you down, knocking you off balance and you fall to the carpeted floor. David pulls his hand away from his side and sees the blood. “Fuck.” On the ground, you try to shake it off and turn your head, seeing the cleaver under the table a few feet from you. Sliding along the ground, you try to reach it and David grunts, kicking you in the stomach and making you cry out in pain and curl in on yourself in reflex.

You try to grab the knife but David grabs you, turning you over and he straddles you with his legs, grabbing your wrists to pin you down and you scream, spitting in his face. “Oh I thought you already knew…the fighting is the part I like the most.” You cry out, screaming escaping your lips as he grabs your wrists in one hand and reaches down to work on his jeans. “There’s no fear in love.” You close your eyes, knowing this had to happen to you at some point in this never ending nightmare of a post pandemic world. You feel numb until you hear Ellie scream as she lunges at David with the cleaver in her hand, cutting into his neck. She brings the knife down again and again, blood hitting her in the face and your hands shake as you try to sit up.

“Ellie. Ellie. We - we have to go.” You say as you try to grab her arm and she’s screaming. She drops the knife, shaking herself as she stands up and you both help each other stumble out of the door after you find the key on David’s body.

Gasping in the frigid air, you close your eyes, shaking from the fear and anger coursing through your body. Ellie had just killed a man to save you, her eyes still wide and frantic as she pants. She’s still on edge and you see movement out of the corner of your eye and try to say something when you see that it’s Joel but pure relief robs you of the ability to do anything but watch as he grabs Ellie beside you. “No! Get off of me!” She immediately starts struggling, fighting to get away from the next demon trying to get her. “Get off!”

Joel manages to turn the flailing girl around. “It’s me.” He grunts out.

“Get-”

“It’s me.” Her eyes open and she slowly starts to realize that it’s not someone attacking her, but Joel. He cups her face to look into her wide eyes. “Hey look. It’s me. It’s me.” A sob rips out of your throat, knowing that he would come for the two of you and you had been right. He’s here. He’s alive, you’re all alive.

“He-” Ellie can’t finish her sentence and Joel’s face hardens as he realizes what she’s trying to say: his worst nightmare. “I got you. I got you, baby girl.” He promises her, pulling her close and his eyes close in relief before he reaches for you. Keeping Ellie tucked into his side, he pulls you into his chest, “baby. I’m so sorry sweetheart.” He murmurs, breathing you in.

You tremble, tears spilling down your cheeks and you close your eyes. “It- we’re okay.” You promise him, shaken but you know that you will be okay. Hearing Joel call Ellie baby girl was bittersweet, knowing he had called his daughter that. “We need to get out of here.” You and Ellie don’t have jackets and Joel pulls away to shrug out of his coat and wrap it around Ellie’s smaller frame. Looking at you before pushing to his feet and pulling you up with him. You and Ellie both frame either side of Joel, still hurt, and slowly start making your way through the snow towards the lake and the boats that were lining the shore. You knew that Joel would come for you, never had any doubt. He protected what was his and now that includes Ellie.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #joel tlou

486 notes · View notes

deathbyyoongx · 10 months

Text

everytime; chapter 5 — myg

╭ chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ...

╭ word count: 6.6k

╭ summary: Everyone knew Min Yoongi as the guy who wouldn't say no to a nice pair of tits. His cocky attitude and stunning looks made it hard for most girls to resist. And even though you would like to say you're not like the others in that aspect, you unfortunately happened to be his ex. But even though you despised his guts for the last 3 years or so, he somehow managed to find himself a way between your legs on one semi-drunk night.

╭ pairing: fuckboy!yoongi x ex!reader

╭ genre: smut, angst, bit of fluff, more smut

╭ warnings: enemies to fwb, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, jealous ex!jungkook, bestfriend!jimin, hate sex, yoongi has a degrading kink but so does yn, brat taming, hair pulling, spitting, slapping, hickeys, choking, unprotected sex (STAY SAFE GUYS!), creampie, praise kink, hand kink, possessive yoongi, sexual content ofc, mentions of drinking, ...

╭ author's note: this fic is inspired by the song everytime by ariana grande. I also recommend using the chrome extension InteractiveFics for a better reading experience ;)

I know it's been a while since I updated this fic, but when I tell you a lot happened with me this year, I really mean it lol. But hey, I'm back :) <3 I haven't reread this chapter, so there may be typos.

03/08/2023

“Taehyung has been snoring the whole night, I can’t.” Jimin complained as he took another bite of his sandwich.

“I’m sorry I have a stuffy nose.” Taehyung pouted, his mouth still full of food.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin have been roommates ever since college. At first, they shared a place to cut the budget of their rent, but now they are just too lazy to search for something else. Even though, I think they enjoy living together and just use it as an excuse now.

Jimin took a sip of his drink. “Jungkook slept through the night though.”

Taehyung waited for you to add something to the conversation, but he noticed your absent mind ever since you guys lunched together. “You don’t seem excited to see us.” He frowned.

You snapped out of your thoughts, quickly shaking your head in disagreement. “I am just-“ You couldn’t find words to add.

“I see you recovered quickly from being sick.” Jimin said, lips curled into a smirk, making it very clear to you that he knew it was just bullshit.

Taehyung took a bite of his sandwich. “Yeah, I heard you were very sweaty.” He said innocently, not knowing the underlining truth behind Jimin’s comment.

“I…was indeed, yes.”

Jimin thought for a second, wondering if he should say what he was about to say. “I don’t want to be that guy, but you should really talk with Jungkook. The guy has been very on edge lately.”

Of course, Jungkook again. “It’s not my fault he’s like that.” Even though it felt like it was though. And the more you started to think about it, it really felt like your fault.

“Yeah, I know. But the least you could do is text him a ‘leave me alone’ instead of not responding at all.” Jimin explained. Ever since Hoseok’s party, You started to respond very drily or not even at all to Jungkook’s texts. You really had no good excuse as to why you’ve been so absent lately, especially since Jungkook knew your work schedule. ‘You’ve never been so busy, do you have a new hobby?’ Areone of the things he would ask you. Sometimes you just wanted to text him a quick and short ‘shut up’, but that would just add more fuel to the fire.

He had a point.

“I will.” Even though you said you would, you were still not sure if you’d actually do it. Jungkook had the habit to keep asking questions and you were not a great liar. And the more he’d ask, the more suspicious he’d get about what truly happened that night.

Taehyung noticed that there was a lot on your mind. “If you want to, you can come over to our place tonight. We’re going to watch that weird movie that Jin has been suggesting for the last few weeks.” He suggested, hoping it would get your mind off of things for a moment.

However, his question made the nerves kick in. “I-uhm can’t.” Clearing your throat as you said that, before taking a quick sip of your water.

Jimin narrowed his eyes, feeling a bit suspicious. “How come?”

Help me find the right excuse, someone. “I have uhm-plans.”

“Why are you stuttering so much?” Taehyung asked innocently as usual.

“With whom?” Jimin asked, but his gut feeling already knew with whom.

You just started to play with the leftover food on your plate, twirling it around with your finger like a toddler, not looking at either one of the boys. “Just…someone.” The silence after you denied to give any more information became a bit too unbearable for you. You sighed and looked up to look at them. “You’re not letting me leave until I tell you, huh?”

“Of course not.” They said in unison.

You hesitated for a sec. “Just don’t go around telling everyone, alright?”

“Come one y/n, we’re not teenagers anymore.” Jimin said to convince you.

“Okay…”It’s no big deal, right y/n? You’re just going out with your ex, nothing wrong with that. “I’m going out with Yoongi tonight.” The painful silence after that statement was killing you.

Shit.

“Wait…” Jimin said as his mind started to connect the dots. “So the guy you hooked up with the night of Hoseok’s party was Yoongi?!”

Taehyung almost choked on his drink. “They hooked up?!” He then thought for a second. “I’m surprised, but also, I’m not.”

“Are you guys going to get back together?” Jimin asked, almost sounding concerned. You low-key started to regret your confession.

What was your answer to this question? “No, I don’t think so-“ The question seemed to linger around your head. Were you? Was that what you wanted? Would Yoongi even want to get back together? I mean, the man can’t seem to keep it in his pants. Think about all those girls who probably have an unrequited crush on him, they would all pray for your downfall. And most importantly, Jia, how could you go back to work if she’d found out?

Confusion spread over Jimin’s face. “What do you mean you don’t think so?”

You were starting to get fed up with these questions which where you did not know the answers to yourself. “Look, Yoongi doesn’t seem to be interested in a relationship right now,” You say slightly annoyed. “Or so I’ve heard.” You noticed Taehyung and Jimin looking at you with a doubtful look. “And I can live with that.” You reassured.

“Can you though?” Taehyung asked a bit skeptical.

“Look if I get my heart broken it won’t be anyone’s fault but mine.” They noticed you started to get more and more defensive by the second.

“You’re out of your mind.” Jimin added.

A worried gaze started to appear on Taehyung’s face. “Does Jungkook know?”

“Of course he doesn’t.” You said defeated. “I’m not obligated to tell him.”

Taehyung and Jimin exchanged a worrisome glance at one another before turning back to you. “Look I get where you coming from, but he won’t take it that way.” Jimin explained.

“I know.” Ever since that night, a feeling of dread started to eat you up from the inside. You felt guilty, even though you shouldn’t. You told Jungkook multiple times you were just friends, but people continue to be protective about his feelings. But what about your feelings? “I’ll just…tell him myself. He needs to hear it from me you know.” You said defeated. Taehyung nodded in agreement, but Jimin just gave you an awkward smile, knowing this won’t end well.

What have I done to myself?

Work stalled and the only thing you could focus on was the ticking sound of that dreadful clock. Yoongi was planning to pick you up from work after your shift, but the idea of Jia still walking around on the work floor made you nervous as hell. How were you going to explain to her that her casual fuckbuddy used to be your boyfriend and that ever since a few days ago, you started seeing him again? The more and more you started to think about this situation, the more fucked it seemed to be. The clock hit 5 ‘o clock, which meant it was your time to head home. You quickly checked if you missed anything on your to-do list before checking out. You quickly freshened up, and if anyone was watching you right now it looked like you were running late for something. But in reality, you just didn’t want anyone to see you looking like this. Because you hated to admit it, but you did pick your best outfit for tonight. You quickly fixed your makeup and walked out of the changing room.

To your surprise, Yoongi had been waiting inside the café for you. He was wearing a nice dark blue dress shirt and black trousers. Yoongi told you to wear something nice, but not overly formal, so you just chose a nice top in combination with a skirt. And when he noticed the effort you had put in for him, a sly smile appeared on his face. “You look good.”

Your cheeks were getting a bit flushed by his compliment. “Thanks.” You looked around a bit stressed as you walked up to Yoongi, making him frown his eyebrows, wondering why you were behaving so anxious. “Let’s go though.”

“You seem to be in a hurry, but not for the right reasons.” Yoongi said as if he could read your mind. “Worried Jia will see us, huh?”

You forced a smile as you linked your arm to Yoongi’s. “Let’s just go.” You repeated. Yoongi just scoffed but did as he was told since he didn’t want to piss you off already.

Your mission of nobody of work seeing you leave with Yoongi was successful, making you feel more at ease. Yoongi let you to his car and to your surprise it was a very nice one, coming from someone that doesn’t give two shits about cars. He opened the door for you, giving you a small smile as you hopped in. He closed the door and you didn’t know why, but your anxiety was getting the best of you. Who were you kidding, of course you knew. You were going on a date with your hot ex that everyone seemed to either want or hate.

You stepped into his car, but before starting the engine he turned to you, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Relax, it’s just me.” He placed his hand on your thigh, slightly caressing it to ease the tension.

You expect your uneasiness to be that obvious. “I know, that’s the problem.” Why did I say that?

You thought Yoongi was going to snap back at you, but instead, he just smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ve done this before.” He said in a joking manner in combination with a wink, making you smile as well as memories of your past relationship flooded through your mind.

Yoongi started the engine and began driving, and what I sight to see it was. Seeing him drive shouldn’t be that attractive, but here we are. The older he got, the more handsome he got. You still remembered that shy quiet guy from high school, one that was not capable of being such a player. But look at him now, he had grown into a man, and what kind of man…One that women can’t seem to get enough from.

“Jimin and Taehyung were quite surprised when I told them we were going out tonight.” You said to break the silence.

Yoongi tilted his head in a slight surprise, his eyes still focused on the road. “You told them about us?” He almost didn’t believe it.

You rolled my eyes and chuckled. “It was hard not to. Especially after Jimin found out about the hickeys you had left on me.”

He proudly smiled at the thought of that. “My hard work shouldn’t go unnoticed.” He joked, making you smile at his stupid comment. “You seem to have covered them well though.” He added, noticing the lack of love bites on your neck, even though he knew they were still lingering.

You couldn’t help but pout as he said that. “Yeah, because of you I have to wake up earlier to cover them up with concealer.” You whined, making his heart melt by the way you said that.

“Cute.” He whispered under his breath. “I guess I’ll apologize for the inconvenience.” He said oddly formally, making you well aware he didn’t really mean it.

This was nice, you thought to yourself, but then your mind decided to ruin it for you again. Don’t feel special, he’s probably like this with all those other girls. Overthinking had become your specialty over the couple of years, especially when it was around the topic of ‘Min Yoongi.’ And now it had become a threat to fully enjoying your night. As you were staring out of the window, you started to notice the streets were getting oddly familiar. You narrowed your eyes as you carefully examined the buildings and street signs, trying your best to recognize why it all felt so familiar. But that’s when it hit you…

“Wait, are we…” You softly spoke, almost inaudible to Yoongi, but just loud enough for him to hear. However, he didn’t say anything and just started smiling at himself until you arrived. And that’s when your speculation got confirmed. A small restaurant hidden in the city, the outside covered with plants and fairy lights. “Oh my god, Yoongi.” It was the place where you had your first date.

Yoongi parked the car before he asked. “Don’t like it?” He was a bit unsure if this was the right move.

“No, I…do.” You were in awe as you looked a the place with wide eyes. “It is the same as how I remember it.” You smiled, turning to him, seeing his eyes were already on you. Shit. You were feeling those damn butterflies again.

“I’m glad you like it.”

As Yoongi and you stepped out of the car, you couldn’t help but get a little bit emotional about this place. Not only did you have your first date here, but many dates after that. You came so often that the boss started to recognize you every time you came, even stopping by sometimes to join in your conversations. A soft smile painted your face the more you thought of it, the feeling of nostalgia hugging you.

“Wait-“ Yoongi spoke before you walked in, gently pulling you in for a kiss. “Now we can go.”

This man…

The waitress outside greeted you with a bright smile as Yoongi asked if there was still a spot free for you two. She let you to a free table outside and you two happily sat down. “I don’t know why, but being here again is kind of weird.” You opened the menu, seeing nothing had changed from the last time you two ate here.

“I know right.” He chuckled, happy he had chosen this date idea. “Just pick whatever, I’ll pay.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi. I don’t care about these gender roles-”

“I don’t either, but I want to pay.”

You looked up from the menu for a second, noticing two piercing eyes looking at you. Your eyes widen, frozen in your current pose as your eyes met hers. Oh no…The woman quickly walked over to your table. Oh no…

“I thought I recognized you two! I haven’t seen you in ages, I thought you had moved to another city or something.” The old lady spoke with joy, almost sounding emotional at the sight of you. “It warms my heart you two are still together. How have you been?”

You moved your eyes over to Yoongi, not sure how to respond to this. However, he just smiled at her, ignoring the fact you were unsure what to do. “Yeah, we both were just so busy the last couple of years, plus we also wanted to save up some money to move out so that’s why. But luckily we finally found a free slot in our busy schedules to enjoy some time together again at our favorite place.”

You’ve never heard so much bullshit coming from someone’s mouth at once. However, Miss Kang was completely eating this up. “I’m happy to see you again. Can’t believe it’s been so long, you’ve really grown into adults, it’s making me slightly emotional even.” Were those tears in her eyes? “I’ll let you two be for now, enjoy the food!”

With a tilted head, you looked back to Yoongi, giving him a ‘what-was-that’ kind of look. He just shrugged his shoulders. “If you want to tell her the truth, go ahead. But then you’ll break a poor lady’s heart.” He said to toy with you, holding onto his chest as if his heart hurt.

“I don’t think I have the heart to do so.” I said, putting on my best act to sound emotional, making Yoongi chuckle.

Shockingly enough, there wasn’t a moment where you two fought or anything close to that. This was actually…really nice. But your mind knew its way to ruin it for you again. He better have not brought any other girls to this place…But then again, if he did, the owner wouldn’t have been so surprised to see us. Stop thinking! Just enjoy this for a second. You barely went out lately. It had just been work, work, and more work. Taking on more shifts you could actually handle. Jimin liked to tease you for it, saying you barely had any time for him and the boys. He then would follow up with a fake cry and dabbing away his fake tears.

The night flew by, and how darker the night got, the brighter the fairy lights shone. It seemed like a scene out of a movie, how romantic. After dinner, Yoongi invited you to his apartment, and not to do any funny business perse, he quickly added after suggesting that. So after him paying for your food, a car ride, and some more flirting, you two were standing in front of his apartment complex. You looked up at it in awe, seeing it must have cost a nice amount of money…

“You live…here?” You ask, almost in denial that this was where Yoongi lived.

He was searching for his keys as the two of you head inside. “What? I’ve been working hard.” He said nonchalantly as he noticed your wide eyes. And that’s when you realized…Yoongi didn’t live in an apartment, this was a penthouse. “Don’t forget, when you were still in college, I was starting to create a name for myself, so this just didn’t happen in one two three. And it’s not the biggest around, so no need to be so in shock.”

“But still!” You didn’t care if it wasn’t the biggest or the most luxurious, it was still something you could never afford with your café money. The two of you took the elevator to the seventh floor and you couldn’t hide your amazement at Yoongi’s living space. “No wonder girls like to spend the night with you.” You said without putting much thought behind it.

He just scoffed. “Are you saying my wonderful personality isn’t enough for them?”

You rolled your eyes and smirked. “I bet it is.”

Yoongi opened his front door, letting you into his penthouse. “Ladies first.” You stepped your first foot in and already were impressed by how nice it looked inside. It was decorated with a lot of dark and wood undertones, but you didn’t expect anything else from him. You awkwardly stood in his living room, waiting for him to say “Please, take a seat. Make yourself at home.” You carefully sat down on his sofa, watching Yoongi walk over to his liquor cabinet, and pour a drink both for him and you. He walked back to you with two glasses in his hand. “Drink up, It’ll help you loosen up.” He said as he handed over the alcoholic drink. “So tell me, how has y/n’s life been doing ever since she and Min Yoongi broke up.” Yoongi placed down the liquor bottle and placed himself next to you, nonchalantly putting his arms around your shoulders.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his weird way of asking that. “Well-” You spoke “After graduating, I just continued working at the café. And to be honest, I really enjoy it there. I’ve even been considering opening one myself, but first I need to do some more research and save up some more money to do that.”

“So you tell me, all those nights you were busy studying instead of going out, were all for a bachelor you ended up not using?” He teased. “So all those nights you could’ve been spending the night with me-”

“Augh, shut up!” You interrupted.

Yoongi laughed before taking another sip from his drink. “I’m joking, getting a bachelor’s degree in the first place is really impressive. And I’m just happy you found something that you like doing.”

“Thank you.” You smile, circling your finger on the rim of the glass. “I see your music producing has gotten you far.”

Yoongi always stayed humble. “I just got lucky, it took me a while to get here.”

“I’m not surprised though, you always had talent. I think it was just a matter of time for you to be successful.” When you said that, you spoke from the heart. On Yoongi’s free days, he would spend the night at your dorm, making you listen to whatever draft he had worked on that day. You always loved it, no matter if it was a biased opinion or not. You just felt confident he was meant to be successful.

“Is that why you’re back?” He teased. “I always knew you were a gold digger.”

“Augh-“ You playfully sighed. “You know that’s not true.” You took another sip from your drink, noticing yourself getting more lightheaded. “Does that occur often? Girls just wanting you for your money?”

“No, this all just happened recently. They are always impressed though.” Another sip. “Besides, I don’t have enough to be someone’s sugar daddy, if that’s what you’re thinking about.”

“You’ve made yourself quite the subject around the girls I know.”

“Did I?” You smirked, not because he felt proud about being the number one topic in Jia’s friend group, but more out of sheer curiosity. “Tell me more.”

“Well, especially Jia. One time she was even telling me about how great the size of your dick was.” A sign of you getting more and more intoxicated by the minute, was the fact you started to say everything unfiltered. “It drove me nuts, especially because I could imagine every single detail she described.” You said with a look of disgust. “Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.” You say, turning to Yoongi with wide eyes and your hand covering your mouth.

However, he found this rather amusing. “No, no, it’s fine. Please, continue.” He chuckled. “Didn’t expect I was such a hot topic.”

“She also told me some of her friends had done the deed with you. Can’t believe you.” You said with rolling eyes before emptying your glass. “They talk about you in a way that I could never imagine.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“They act as if you’re this sex god or something.” You say with a confused expression on your face. “I’ve heard them talk about you once and I never knew people could say such filthy things in one sitting. You really got them wrapped around your finger, I got to give you that.”

Yoongi just laughed, a bit embarrassed to be honest. He noticed your face getting redder by the minute, and not because you were embarrassed, but because of the alcohol. “Your mind probably thinks, fuck, not that bastard again.” He said jokingly, even though he knew there was some truth behind it.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Initially, it does.” Your smile faded into a softer one as you reminisce about the former version of Yoongi. “But then I think about how you were in high school. That sweet boy in the back of the class who was even too shy to ask me out.” The smile Yoongi noticed appearing on your face made him feel appreciated, since now he knew how you really thought about him whenever his name got mentioned. “I only started to think you were a bastard after we broke up the first time.”

Yoongi just scoffed as he took another sip of his drink. “That’s when it all went south.” He laughed. “I guess I’ll have to show you the best of me from now on.” He teased as he eyed down your glass, noticing the lack of liquor left in it. “Should I pour more for you?”

You happily nodded as you handed him your glass. “Yes please!” He just smiled as he went back to his cabinet to fill your glass for round two. You just studied Yoongi’s anatomy as he was pouring the drink. How his shirt accentuated his back muscles, how broad his shoulders became as he got older, or how beautiful his long black hair was. What a sight to be seen. Yoongi turned back around, handing back your drink as he sat down next to you, in the same position as before. He took another sip from his drink, something obviously gnawing on his conscious.

That’s when he decided to ask it. “How are things between you and Jungkook?”

You couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy whenever Jungkook’s name got mentioned in conversations. Especially since you got together with Jungkook after the break up with Yoongi…“Good, we’re best friends now.” But you noticed the weird look Yoongi gave you after you gave your answer. “What?”

“Nothing.” He quickly said to shrug off any suspicion. “Why did you guys break up though?”

“Eh, it’s my turn to ask a question now” You didn’t want to keep talking about Jungkook anymore, especially when it came to Yoongi. Why would you want to be honest about your emotions?

Yoongi was a bit taken aback by your reaction. “Didn’t know we were taking turns. But all right, go ahead.”

You felt your heartbeat increase by the question that was lingering in your head. “How many other girls are you seeing beside me.”

Yoongi moved a bit closer to you. “Wouldn’t you like to know, huh?” He said he locked his eyes onto yours, noticing the seriousness on your face. “Well, that’s private.”

Your eyebrows frowned as he said that. “Private?!” You said baffled.

“Hmh? What? Aren’t you the one being secretive about us too?” He asked in the most unserious tone.

“fine”

He chuckled before emptying his glass as well. “Now, back to my former question. Why did you two break up?”

“Uhm.” The thing was, no matter how much alcohol you drank, there was no way in hell that you could tell him the real reason you broke up with Jungkook. Oh, I quickly discovered that he was just a rebound and that I was actually still in love with you. But when I wanted to get back together, you were already busy fucking half the girls of the town. So I just came to the conclusion we weren’t meant to be to start with. Yeah right. t“We just didn’t match.”

“That’s all?”

“Yup.”

Yoongi would’ve believed you if you said that statement in full confidence. But the mixture of you waiting too long to respond and saying your sentence with hesitation made it very clear to him that there was something you weren’t telling him. But he also knew he wasn’t going to get it out of you tonight. “Alright then.”

After your second glass, you realized you really shouldn’t have had another one. Because unsurprisingly enough, you couldn’t really handle alcohol that well. “Can you kiss me now though? I’ve been dying for you to give me another one but without much success.” You tried to say in your most seductive tone, but due to your drunkenness, it came out a bit funny.

“So needy all of a sudden, huh?”

“Hmh, kissy kiss please.” You pouted your lips like a fish as you leaned into Yoongi to plant one on him.

Yoongi frowned his brows as he suddenly backed away from you, a sinister smirk formed on his lips. “Wait, are you drunk already?” He said bewildered, not believing anyone could easily get that drunk.

You scoffed. “You’re a silly man with silly questions. I don’t think I am. Which means we can take this further, right tiger?” Stroking your index finger from his chest to just above his groin.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Alright, You’re drunk y/n”

“Maybe a little.”

“Well, I’m not, so there won’t be any funny business tonight.” You suddenly felt the touch of his hands around your wrist, holding your hand back from touching him any further.

“Heh!” You couldn’t believe it. “But you know I like to fuck when I’m drunk.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile out of embarrassment, not expecting you to have said that. Min Yoongi being a bit shy? “I know, but it’s weird when I’m sober.”

“But I’ve been dying to kiss you, touch you, fuck you.” You leaned in even closer to Yoongi, the distance between your faces being minimal, hoping this would reel him in.

But to your disappointment, it didn’t work. “I’m flattered, really, but don’t worry I won’t be going anywhere soon.”

You pouted, your heart aching from the idea that he didn’t want to touch you. How dare he. “Can we just hug then?”

“Hugging is fine.”

You quickly wrapped your arms around Yoongi, pressing your cheek against his chest, appreciating the softness of his shirt. You were listening to his heartbeat as if it were a lullaby. With every thump the relaxer you got. “I haven’t spoken to you for three years and it feels like yesterday we were together.” You mumbled.

“Weird huh?” He said softly.

Something in you wanted to tell him you missed him, but your little heart couldn’t get itself to do it. It would’ve made you too vulnerable and you didn’t want to ruin this moment to speak up about your complicated feelings for Yoongi. It could mean absolutely nothing to him, but you were just happy to be able to lay in his arms tonight. Cause after tonight, you knew he was just going to the next girl on his list. But the sudden feeling of his thumb caressing your arm as he held you made your eyes water. He wasn’t talking, just watching admiring you. The silence felt far from awkward. It was more comforting than something else.

You felt your eyelids getting heavy though. “Would you have a problem with me if I fell asleep right now?”

Yoongi chuckled, not surprised you were already going to crash. “Of course not”

“We’ll the chance of that happening is very high.” You mumbled. “Why do you smell so good.” You said it as if it was a bad thing. Which for you kind of was, because it made you crave for more of him. You looked up to him and when his eyes met yours, a smile appeared on your face out of reflex. “You’re so beautiful.”

The moment you said that, you saw Yoongi’s features soften up. His eyebrows turned into a pleading kind of expression, his eyes twinkling and his mouth slightly open. “Oh y/n…” He said as if his heart was hurting.

“What?”

He let out a defeated sigh as he tucked a strand of your hand behind your ear. “Nothing. I’m just happy to see you again.” You saw his pupils move from one place to another as he was examining your face like a work of art. “Maybe we should head to bed.”

“Ooh, we?” You teased, still trying to get him to do all those things he said he would over the phone.

“Come on.” He moved up from his seat, reaching his hand for you to take it, which you did in seconds, of course. He led you to his bedroom, seeing how luxurious it looked, making you even madder he didn’t want to do anything with you tonight. “I’ll give you my shirt to sleep in.” He walked over to his closet, grabbed a black shirt, and handed it to you.

You accepted it in full grace, happy to be wearing his clothes again. He used to do this as well when you came to his place three years ago. It almost felt like a privilege. “Turn around though.”

“Are you serious?” Yoongi said appalled, almost sounding offended. Not because he really wanted to see you naked or something, but rather because he had seen you naked multiple times, Hoseok’s party excluded. But he just guessed because it had been a long time, you had lost that comfort in him.

“Yes, this is very exclusive content!” You pouted. Yes, you knew Yoongi had already seen every little crevice of your body, but because of his abundance of experience, you became a bit insecure.

“I’ll go ahead and brush my teeth already then.” He said, respecting your needs.

“Oh, I don’t have a toothbrush.”

“One night won’t ruin your dental hygiene.”

As Yoongi headed inside his bathroom, you quickly changed into his shirt. You were blushing to yourself, feeling rather proud to be able to wear his shirts. I hope no other girl has worn this. A moment later you were lying down on his bed, quickly realizing the sheets smelled like Yoongi. You really were on Cloud 9. After a few minutes, he came back wearing only a pair of briefs. Even though you’ve seen his chest multiple times, you still were too timid to look, making you turn your head to the side. “What’s the matter? First time seeing a bare-chested man?” He said sarcastically

“I’m feeling violated.”

He placed himself next to you, hovering over you. “Next time you’ll be drinking the weak stuff first and I’ll just drink the hard stuff myself, lightweight.” He gently grabbed your face and planted a kiss on your forehead. “Then we can get drunk at the same pace, how about that?”

You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss on the lips. “Sounds like a great idea.” This felt weird. This whole night felt weird. Not because of you or Yoongi in particular. But because it all felt like weird déjà vu. “Alright, goodnight y/n.” He said before turning off the light

“Goodnight Yoongi.” You rubbed your face against the pillow, creating a little malt to fit your face nicely to sleep in. The sudden feeling of his arm snaking around your waist almost made you cry. He pulled you a bit closer, feeling his heartbeat against your back. You smiled. Cause tonight, you were his and his only.

“Don’t kiss me I have morning breath.” When you found yourself in Yoongi’s arms, and a painful headache, the next morning, you realized how bad of a combo you and alcohol are.

Yoongi chuckled before leaning in closer to you. “Like I care Besides, yesterday you were very persistent on me kissing you.” He teased with a smirk.

“I talk a bit too much when I’m tipsy.” You pouted as you felt Yoongi’s lips on your neck.

“Tipsy?” He teased.

“Shut up.” You sat up straight, stretching your body to wake yourself up. “I can’t stay long though, I have to be at work at 12.” Your heart was feeling sad you had to leave already.

Yoongi sat straight as well. “It’s fine, I have a meeting in the afternoon, so I couldn’t stay either,” He gently grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. “unfortunately.” Yoongi moved up from his bed, stretching at well. “Let me take a quick shower before I drop you off.”

However, you did not hear that last sentence Yoongi just said. Because Yoongi was indeed, a healthy man. And healthy men would occasionally get morning wood. It was not your fault it distracted you for a minute. You quickly moved your eyes away from his clothed erection and decided to keep your focus strictly on Yoongi’s face. “Sorry, what?”

Yoongi smirked at the sight of you being flustered. “I said I was going to take a quick shower, but it seems that you were a bit distracted.”

“Just go shower, please!”

Yoongi just shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a lot of talk when you’re drunk, but sober you’re such a pussy.” He said before closing the door behind him. During Yoongi’s shower, you put back on your own clothes as you heard the shower head running. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, noticing the rubbed-out mascara that made you look like a raccoon. You tried your best to tame your hair but without much luck. You heard a notification noise coming from somewhere, but it wasn’t from your phone. Curiosity got the best of you, so you quickly took a glimpse at the text Yoongi received.

[09:21] Eunha: Yoongi~ I hope tonight is still on. I haven’t heard from you yet so I’m getting worried ㅠㅠ

The urge to text her back yourself to tell you that he was busy with someone else, was immense. But you just bit your tongue and ignored it. It was the universe telling you that you were, indeed, not special. Being Yoongi’s one and only was too good to be true. You just sighed, laying back down and trying your best to get your mind out of the gutter. After a few minutes of waiting, Yoongi was done with his shower and decided to come out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. You really are testing me, aren’t you? You took a little peak, before covering your eyes with your arms, making Yoongi chuckle. “You can look you know? I don’t mind.”

“I feel more comfortable likes this.”

His lips left a little ‘tsk’ sound as he started to get dressed, telling you after a few minutes it was safe to open your eyes again. You sat up from the bed, smiling innocently at Yoongi as if you didn’t want him to rearrange your guts yesterday, but now you were chickening out. “y/n-” You hear Yoongi whisper, making you turn your body to him. You felt his hands creep onto your waist as he leaned in a bit. “Before we go, can I just…” He pulled your body closer to his, making you hold onto his shoulders as he gently pressed you against the door. You could feel his breath against your lips, waiting for a second before pressing his lips against yours, his lips slowly moving against yours. A rush of excitement went through your body by Yoongi’s sudden need for you. You could feel his hand squeezing your breast as if he had been waiting for the opportunity to do so, making you let out a small wince. His lips left yours and a grin painted his face. “Alright, let’s go.” You weren’t sure what just happened, or why he suddenly had the need to do that. You’d be lying if it didn’t leave you wanting more, but neither of you had the time for it anymore. Making you think he did this on purpose.

After the two of you left his apartment, he drove you back home, which didn’t take that long. Conveniently enough, his house was that far from yours. After holding the door for you again and walking up to your front door, you couldn’t believe this was already over. “Thanks for last night, I really had fun.” You said before opening the door.

“So did I.” He smiled before it turned into a slight grin. “Now that you stopped pretending you don’t want to see me, how about I come over to pick you up this Friday?”

Suddenly, the text from that girl named Eunha popped into your head, altering your answer. “I’ll think about it.” You said with a hint of sadness.

Yoongi leaned in closer, holding your waist for a second before planting another kiss on your lips. “Let me know, okay? See you soon y/n.” He smiled before letting go of you. You watch him drive off before heading into your home, leaning against the door as soon as it’s closed. But when you caught yourself being a little bit too smiley, you mentally slapped yourself out of it. Don’t do this to yourself No, you weren’t going to fall in love with him again. No matter how nice he would be to you. He was an upper-fuckboy and you should know better. You were just another one in his long contact list of girls. So tonight you made a promise to yourself. The moment you started to catch feelings for Yoongi, you would cut him out of your life.

Simple.

Taglist; @flowerblu00, @brinda-9, @seokjinkismet, @sugainmybowl, @mxxxnshine

298 notes · View notes

interpolanticssuperfan · 9 months

Text

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 3 | 18+ only

hii everyone! thank you SO much for the incredible kindness youve shown me and sweet words so far! and thank you all for reading. i accidentally made this chapter longer than i intended to.. oops. i hope i am doing a good job at slow burning because ive struggled with that in the past. warnings: reader goes outside to smoke a cigarette. lol. enjoy and as always feedback fuels me!!

also, i wanted to let you all know that you can listen to the playlist i have been listening to as i work on this fic which is sort of a mix of stuff that reminds me of ken and stuff i think he'd like. idk i love when authors share what they listen to, so you can check that out here.

you can also reply to my posts or message me if you want to be tagged for updates. i am posting a masterlist today for ease of access.

tags: @heyareyoulistening @itsametaphorbriansblog @alyeria

In the span of one hour, you absorbed more information and somehow became more confused the longer Ken spent investigating every inch of your apartment. You explained to him that you did not own this entire building, and that only one unit was allotted to you, but this still impressed Ken.

“Are you friends with all your neighbors?” He asked, squinting closely at the magnets on your fridge, touching them and flipping frantically through the notepad you used for grocery lists, like he needed to see more of your handwriting, more of the things you used every day. Ken murmured to himself as he took in the words: flour, one dozen eggs, croissants.

You’d reinstated yourself at your dining table with your work laptop, creating an elaborate lie for your supervisor as to why you missed the weekly team check in. My cousin’s dog was assaulted by a rabid possum and we had to take him to the emergency vet, please excuse my brief absence… I’m happy to work overtime to accommodate this inconvenience… He was only a puppy…

So on and so forth. You were confident you could schmooze your way out of a write up. Ken couldn’t stand still, couldn’t contain himself – had whizzed through the front door when you unlocked it, bouncing off the walls with questions and comments that flowed freely.

“No, I’m not friends with all my neighbors. There’s gotta be at least forty other people that live here. Are you?”

“I know all the Kens. We are not all friends. But I know all of them.”

“You’re all named Ken.”

“No. There’s Allans.”

“Right.”

Ken gleefully picked up each cookbook stacked on top of a low hanging shelf, tearing through each one and making tiny astonished faces at each new dish he was introduced to. Recipes on the sweeter side piqued his interest – cinnamon rolls, pastries, cookies. You had suspended disbelief long enough to just let Ken do this, let him touch everything even if he moved your belongings out of place. It wasn’t typical for you to have a man over, let alone one who was learning how the natural human world worked. (And had to ask you with stars in his eyes what ovens were for.)

“These pancakes look divine. They’re putting all kinds of stuff in these. I didn’t know you could put blueberries in them. They taste good, right?” You craned your neck to get a look at the recipe he was referring to.

“If you’re a decent cook! You just have to pay attention to what you’re doing, measuring, how long things stay on the stove. It’s like that for anything you cook. I’m not great with pancakes, for some reason I always tend to burn them.”

“So what’s your favorite food?” Ken asks, setting the book down and taking to the fridge, flinging the doors wide open and surveying each salad dressing, bottle of water, every can of cold brew coffee. He ran his fingers along the labels, as if reading braille, receiving telepathic information about these products from just handling them. It was an odd sight. Everything he held looked so small in his hands.

“Er… I guess I really like sushi. But I haven’t had it in awhile. Trying to save money, make a habit of eating at home. And I just like to make simple things.”

“What’s in sushi?” Ken’s rotating a banana in his hands, picking at the stem to see what it does.

“A lot of things. Usually raw fish. Rice that sticks together to make a shape, seaweed, different kinds of sauces.” It’s making you laugh, seeing Ken size up this banana with a puzzled look on his face. “Do you want to try eating that?”

He shifts uncomfortably, placing the fruit back down on the counter like it had offended him. “We have these in Barbieland but they are not nearly as squishy. Ours are rock hard. And not brown!”

Ken was right – that banana was probably past its prime, but you hadn’t cleaned out the fridge in a few days. You’d gotten sick of refreshing your inbox waiting for a reply from your supervisor, so you got up and pulled a knife from the drawer, setting the squishy banana on a paper towel to cut it.

“Here. Try this,” you cut through the peel and divide up a small end slice into two pieces, holding one out to Ken who seems frightened by it, squares his shoulders.

“There’s something inside that peel?”

“Go ahead, just take a bite! You might like it, how else will you find out what you like?”

“But (Y/N), I’m not… hungry.”

“That’s okay. It’s a very small slice, I promise it’ll be alright, Ken.”

His eyes flash with trust at the promise you’ve just made him, so he abandons his apprehension and plops the bit into his mouth. It’s like watching a baby bird clamor for its mother’s offering of regurgitated seed and berry mix. Ken doesn’t instinctively chew, he just lets it sit in his mouth like he’s waiting for the fruit to do something. You raise up the other banana slice, catch his eye and show him how to chew, slowly, and then swallow.

Ken nods, although his movements are strange and exaggerated, but eventually allows a smile. “That was pretty good. Mushy.” He searches your face to see if he’s given the correct answer, which is even funnier to you than him trying food for the first time.

“Did you like it? Bananas are on the sweet side.”

“Definitely. I think I really like them. Can I have the rest of it?”

“So you can taste!”

Ken grins to himself, gives you a proud stance and swaggers to the side, popping his hip out as he starts cutting up the rest of the fruit.

“Oh, yeah. I can taste everything. Nothing I can’t taste.”

“When I go to the store next I can get you some more sweet foods. But you can’t just eat sweets. Fruit is naturally sweet, but for example, you can’t just have ice cream and brownies all the time. Your body will hate you for that.”

“And I can make you pancakes with bananas.” Ken adds, cocky as ever, already physically spreading himself out in your kitchen like he owns the place, thighs open and easy and confident as he leans back. He adjusts quickly to new situations, you’re discovering, with none of the social anxiety most people might feel.

“Let’s save the cooking and… turning on the stovetop… for when I can teach you. It can be dangerous if you’re not familiar with what to do.”

“But what if I want to surprise you, (Y/N)? You wouldn’t want to ruin it, would you?”

“I’d rather ruin the breakfast than have you accidentally catch my apartment building on fire.”

Ken considers this, starts chewing at the rest of the banana slices while still committed to looking cool as he does so. “You’re so right. So, where do you think I should sleep?”

You put some distance between the two of you, since proximity to the blonde had begun to make you feel inexplicably self conscious, and sit back down at your laptop. You hadn’t gotten this far, hadn’t decided where Ken could stay and if he was even going to stay. Stay for what? A crash course in becoming a member of society? Turn him into the perfect roommate who’s convinced you’re dating now? And how in the hell were you qualified to teach him anything about life, fulfillment, health or success when you were far from the epitome of any of those?

“I thought you said you didn’t get tired.”

“There’s something I need to tell you about,” the sudden change in Ken’s tone caught you off guard, so after taking a brief glance at your emails again and confirming nothing of substance had arrived, you folded your hands in your lap and turned your body towards him, anticipatory and patient.

“When Barbie went to the real world, almost everything about her changed. She still looked like herself, but… it was different. She told us that she got a cold.” Ken gestured to his nose, crinkling it up in dismay. “Sniffling. She had to use tissues.”

“You’re worried about getting sick?”

“No, not… right now.” Ken tried again, attacking it from a different angle. “Barbie said the longer she was here, the more she kept changing. Barbies never got sick before. But she had to see a human doctor, and she started making her own food and eating it. Sandwiches. And her flat feet never went away.” Ken’s distress was evident, but you weren’t sure what he was getting at, couldn’t see what panicked him so much about this topic.

“I don’t understand. What are you saying, Ken?” You tried to keep yourself casual, so as not to freak him out even further; he’d already begun pacing, boots clacking against your kitchen tile with each step.

“I’m saying that the longer I stay here, the less I’m going to be like… how I was.” He sounded so unsure, on the precipice of a conclusion, fearful of what he might learn. “Don’t you get it? I’ll have to brush my hair. Call the dentist. Pay taxes. Wear deodorant. I might get a breakout on my chin, just like Barbie did.” The last part sounded like the nail in the coffin for Ken, who looked weak just recalling the memory.

“Taxes? But you don’t have a job, do you? For all the city knows, you don’t even exist.”

“That’s not the point, (Y/N)! I’ll have to get a job.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. So… it sounds like you’ll become less like a doll?”

“Exactly. And I’ll have to do it alone.” Ken was silent, pensive as you let his confession settle. Perhaps it wasn’t the changes that he dreaded.

It was doing it without any support.

“I see. So you’ll have to sleep. You’ll have to eat. Is that scaring you?” Your intention was to minimize these facts of daily human life, shrink them down to manageable tasks, not to trivialize his valid concerns.

Ken hollowed his cheek, bit the skin in between his teeth and looked around for something to focus on while he reflected on what you asked. Noticing the cage you had set up for your guinea pig, Ken crouched in front of it without so much as a knee crack, raising his eyebrows up inquisitively.

“Who’s this?”

“I should’ve introduced you to her earlier. She’s my guinea pig, her name’s Willa. See her long hair? It’s really beautiful, but she’s pretty high maintenance.”

Sounds like someone else in this room.

Being so close to Willa appeared to calm Ken down, and you watched his shoulders drop slightly, saw the veins in his neck depress, growing less agitated. “Does she have to brush her hair?”

The cookbooks, grocery lists, the banana had inspired Ken to ask countless questions, but meeting Willa, Ken merely watched in quiet awe.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his purported jab. “I help her with it every day. She’s got a special little brush.”

“Hers is longer than mine. At least she gets some assistance.”

Ken sighs deeply, not taking his eyes off tiny caramel colored Willa, who has no idea what’s happening, just lounges in the paper substrate fleece and wiggles her nose up at the blonde staring her down. He rubs meager circles on his knees as if to soothe himself, then sighs again, long and dramatic. From minute to minute, Ken’s moods shift so drastically – he could be lovingly describing his newfound obsession with bananas and then just as easily pivot to jealousy over a guinea pig receiving grooming services from its owner. Decoding him was like whiplash.

“Ken?”

“I’ve been putting off thinking about this part.”

“You mean losing your doll-ness?”

“Yeah.” Ken’s voice is small, terrified, unbefitting of how he presented himself. Put together, well dressed, toned, tanned, oozing with charm. It all dissipated with his answer.

With your foot, you push out the dining table chair adjacent to you, the scrape spooking Ken as he jumps. “Why don’t you come sit here and talk with me? You can bring Willa, she likes making friends. Just be mindful of her.” Nervous, Ken obliges, sticks a hand into her enclosure and waits for Willa to crawl over to him.

To your shock, she comes without a moment’s hesitation, nosing at his palm and blinking at him. Willa ardently disapproved of your last boyfriend, and she never seemed to like the odd hookup you’d bring over after your explosive breakup. She’d ignore any man in the apartment for the most part, but you couldn’t believe how easy it had been for her to warm up to Ken, snuggling up to him already.

“Wow. She normally doesn’t like strangers.”

“Looks like she prefers your friends. She’s so soft,” Ken notes, temporarily forgetting about the needling anxiety he’d been expressing to you, and sits down. At your table Ken seemed larger than life, so full of color and irresistible personality. The most interesting irregularity you had ever entertained. He flattened the backs of his hands on the placemat and smiled down shyly at Willa, gentle like he was convinced the tiniest movement could hurt her.

(A smile that had the power to devastate – could ruin your life, could make you want to throw it all away just to know him; a smile that Ken saved specifically for a defenseless creature that nibbed at his thumbnail.)

“Go ahead and pet her! They like that,” you encouraged Ken, denying the lump in your throat, who obeys and brings a steady forefinger to Willa’s back, warily petting her in one stunted action. Willa rustles, but doesn’t flee or make any noises contesting his presence. “She might try to run away, so just make sure you keep an eye on her.”

“I promise I will, (Y/N). How old is she?”

“She’s two and a half.” You raise your eyes to Ken, who’s entranced by the small animal and her lustrous coat, indifferent to his surroundings now that he’s connected with this hairy comrade. “How old are you?”

“I have no idea. How old are you?”

This shouldn’t have surprised you at this point. Nothing could catch you off guard now as you went down the list, dedicating yourself wholly to figuring out what to do with this guy. Given how unadjusted he is to the world, is Ken your responsibility now? What would happen to him if he went out, unprepared, unassimilated, and tried to do things like get a job, buy something from the store? Had he ever seen currency before?

Would you have to teach Ken math? You failed calculus. More than once. This wasn’t boding well.

“I’m twenty five. You don’t have a birthday?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s how you keep track of your age. Could you look at me for a second? Maybe I can try and guess.” Ken’s reluctant to stop looking at Willa, but does as you say, and it strikes you to admire him overtly like this, free from the guise of contrived modesty, not hiding how strongly you want to see him. He’s open, almost tranquil, those wide eyes continuously following yours, every single aspect of his demeanor softening the more you drink him in.

You couldn’t help but freeze. Pinning him. You could hear the robins chirping outside on the patio. Buses shuttling along on the road outside. Your blood pumping in your fingers, the hot curl of desire in your stomach. At once, everything felt vibrant, felt… exceptional.

Because of him.

Blonde angel, almost porcelain. Kind with your pet. Enthralled with the simplest items you owned. Eager to assist you with any task, however minor. Naively trusting.

Blind to the ways this world could twist and chew you up. Brand new.

You wouldn’t ever be the source of pain for Ken. In that moment, searching his stark blue eyes for an answer to a question you couldn’t articulate, you wrote it on your heart, that no matter what happened – whether Ken stayed in your life, as a friend or something more – you would never hurt him.

You don’t even remember what you were trying to do with him. Mesmerized, you simply just enjoyed the sight, at a loss for words. What was there to say that wouldn’t fizzle out and die on your lips?

How are you real? (He wasn’t.)

How did you get here? (He’d waited for you.)

Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

“(Y/N)? Did you calculate it yet? Maybe it’ll be easier if I unbutton my jacket. Willa, stay put, I need to do something,” It flew over your head, you couldn’t hear what he said, just gawked and felt your pulse thrum as Ken started to undo the top of his denim jacket. Deft fingers working, you had to be aware of how affected you looked. You couldn’t hide it.

To see more of Ken’s chest physically pained you – it hurt to look, hurt to squirm and act like it wasn’t overwhelming, burning you up. He showed off his defined, carved muscle, smooth and enticing like a joke or something.

Willa sniffed the salt and pepper shaker, not moving even a millimeter away from Ken as he undid the last button with a muffled pop.

Where wisps of blonde hair would’ve led down to the tip of Ken’s waistband, there was nothing, just more of that milky white skin, blameless and pure and teasing. Where ribs should have anatomically been, his chest expanded then deflated, ripples of flesh rolling, then relaxing.

All of him on display. All of him so… bare.

Well – not all of him. Not yet.

You hadn’t felt anything like this before, not ever. You were experienced – you weren’t uneducated when it came to sex, or… pleasure. Yet it was impossible that you’d felt true desire in the past, even for the man you’d fallen in love with and been betrayed by, because those memories shriveled in comparison to what you felt in this moment, seeing Ken like this, expectant and unrestrained and so fiercely magnetizing. You saw your future, you saw his body, you saw Ken’s long eyelashes fluttering and pretty like a girl’s, and it was too fucking much, louder than your heart slamming inside your chest.

You began to question if you were even real. If this was happening. Maybe you were the lifeless doll. Harsh stings peppered out along the slope of your neckline – for the second time since meeting Ken, did that really just happen today? – and you made the horrible mistake of telling him the truth just as he was starting to visibly fidget, awaiting your reply.

“(Y/N)? Is this helping? If not, I can –”

“You’re so goddamned gorgeous. Fuck.”

“What?” Ken blinked, taken aback. He looked like he wanted to say more, to press you, but he couldn’t form a response.

“I’m. Jesus. I am so sorry, Ken. That wasn’t appropriate at all. I’m… supposed to be helping you. I’m sorry.” Dizzyingly, you shot to your feet, dug your heels against the floor just to feel grounded, and reached over the table for your purse.

Weren’t you the one supposed to be in charge of boundaries? Teaching Ken how to act, how not to rush things when you met someone you wanted to get to know?

Ken had flushed a deep shade of peach, an obvious blush that mottled his neck and spread out to his clavicles, nearly reaching his shoulder tips.

“Did I do something wrong? Can you please tell me what it was?” Ken urged, pupils the size of saucers and still dancing to follow your every move. His face was frantic, lips parted revealing more of his perfect teeth, just another element of his perfect face, everything so perfect about him, and your headache threatened to return in full force.

“No – no, you didn’t, Ken. I promise. I just need to go outside and smoke, it’s not your fault, okay? Can you please stay here with Willa? I’ll only be a minute.”

Ken clearly didn’t know what you meant, or what smoking entailed, but he stayed fused to the chair, biting at his lip again in fragile confusion and not daring to abandon Willa. Fumbling for your lighter through the fabric, you caught the unmistakable downturn of rejection swimming across his features, and the notion that you might have inadvertently let him down made you sicker than the intense wave of lust that had just crashed over you, almost crumbling you, reducing you to nothing but a star cursed to orbit a bigger, more important planet.

#ken #ryan gosling #ken barbie #barbie movie #ken x reader #ken x fem reader #ryan gosling ken #female reader

162 notes · View notes

kuroosdarling · 2 years

Text

Battle of the Bands

𓆩♡𓆪 Semi x reader

𓆩♡𓆪 wc: 3.5k

𓆩♡𓆪 cw: MDNI ! - language, rough sex/hate sex, degradation, semi eita is a fuckin tease, & a lil mean hehe, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex

synopsis: its the 4th annual battle of the bands and you long time rival is coming after the title.

the road to hell is paved with good sex… or something like that….

a/n: happy birthday semi semi <3 i’ve been working on this fic for far too long lmao time to release it into the wild. i hope y’all enjoy !! n tell semi happy birthday !!!

Nothing beat the rush you felt when you first got on stage. Your nerves turned into fire, melting everything around you. Any and all feelings of doubt would get caught up in the flames, clearing the way for you to light up the stage. All you needed was your trusty guitar and your fellow bandmates to get started. Each time you went on stage, the lights would beat down on you only to heighten the passion you had for what you did. Looking out to the sea of people never felt scary, in fact, it exhilarated you. They were here to see your band play. To win. And the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint them. it fueled the adrenaline that was already coursing through your veins. Buzzing, you were more than ready to give them the show of a lifetime.

But of course, there was balance in the world. With a great rush, comes an even greater buzzkill. Always lingering around corners, ready to strike whenever you had let your guard down. It hadn’t always been like this, but it easily manifested into this push and pull of power between the two of you.

Semi Eita.

The actual bane to your existence.

Tonight was your fourth time at Battle of the Bands. The last two times you guys had won first, eliciting the most applause from the crowd. It was exhilarating and you were determined to get it every year, no matter the cost.

Battle of the Bands was notorious for being a bloodbath between bands, but you never anticipated it to get so brutal. At first, it scared you shitless. So many people backstage yelling over one another, sabotaging each other’s wardrobes or even instruments. Just a constant rivalry between bands that started drama after drama.

Your bandmates usually didn’t participate in it, save for your drummer, Saeko. Normally, she didn’t start the feuds but she had no problem in finishing them. Your lead vocalist, Yachi, was always too concerned with calming her nerves before she tore it up on stage and Kiyoko, your bassist, never ran into any trouble. Probably because her boyfriend would go unleash hell on everyone if they tried it.

But this year, the energy felt different. Everyone was fired up, ready to snag the win this year. Even your bandmates seemed more fired up this time around. Probably because the winner also would win a hefty prize this year. Usually it was just bragging rights and good publicity, but this year was more intense. A record deal was at stake.

His band was up next so he was tuning one of his new guitars. The bastard insisted on getting a red one right after you had posted yours on instagram. He knew he pissed you off and it only encouraged him. He’d never been one for the petty arguments and dramatic sabotages, but when he first met you, he just couldn’t help himself.

The way you were so nervous at first, taking it all in, watching your back. No one else dared messed with you, so he had the opportunity to have you all to himself. Instantly, you found him annoying. He was always making passive aggressive comments towards you, sneering at you as you walked by, even going so far as posting a video of you tripping on twitter that regrettably went viral.

Now, you never let him get away with that kind of stuff. It still happened, but you’ve managed to get him back a few times. Snapping back at him anytime he decided to make silly comments towards you, sticking your tongue out at him anytime he decided to sneer at you, and getting him to apologize on twitter for embarrassing you. (Your fans mostly handled that one for you but it was still a sight to see his half-assed apology he wrote on his notes app uploaded onto twitter). The real kicker was when you slept with his drummer. That shut him up for a solid couple weeks.

His band took the stage, the crowd already cheering at their mere appearance. Objectively, they were a good looking group. Each of them had their own edgy style, confidence practically pouring off of them the moment they would get on the stage. It wasn’t surprising that most of the girls had pushed their way up to the front for their performance, screaming at the guys to notice them whilst tearing each other down.

Semi took it all in. Nothing beats the feeling of this. Being desired, being acknowledged, being appreciated. He was addicted to it. Plus, he got to play music with some of his favorite people in the world. His bandmates were like his brothers, and he wouldn’t be where he was today without them.

Everytime he took the stage, it was like a flip was switched. He went from being just a regular guy who worked as a civil servant to Semi Eita, the rockstar. His ultimate persona, the one that woo’d the stage and made people remember his name. His truest self, the one he wanted to be since he was a kid. He could just let loose and be himself; something he didn’t have the luxury of doing in his normal 9-5.

Looking to the side past the drawn back curtains, he can see a scowl take up your face. Another added bonus to getting up on stage. As he was one of the first acts of the night, he was able to command the crowd’s attention better. Most of them are still sober and fully invested in the music. The winner of last year’s battle had to go last, so you’d be hanging out on the side for a while.

The lights lowered down so they weren’t casted fully on his face. He was thankful that his vocalist asked them to turn it down because he’d get sweaty enough as is. With a nod to his bandmates, they were ready to play their song.

One beat, two beats, three beats, four. The stage exploded with sound, diving right into it. Semi’s hands flew over his guitar, strumming it like he was born to do it. Flashing a smile to the crowd as they all immediately go wild over the music they were playing.

Goosebumps threatened to litter your arms, so you clapped your hands over it trying to push them back down. You might’ve hated the guy, but hell, he was talented.

The moment he struck his guitar had you hooked. It was no secret that he was the band’s main talent. His guitar skills rivaled yours, which only made you hate him more.

“You’re tapping your foot.” Saeko pointed out, smirking at you.

“No I’m not, shut the fuck up.” You snap back, stilling your foot while heat rises to your face. Each band was able to play 4 songs. Your band did it so each instrument had a song they could flourish in, showing off their true skills. It’s how you’ve been able to win the past 2 years. But it looks like Semi’s band caught on, as they were all playing the best you’ve ever seen them play.

The worst part is how good he looked on stage. He had an aura about him tonight and it was drawing everyone in. Once he opened his mouth to sing, it was over. His deep voice overpowering the room, all the attention was on him. He looked like he was in his element, like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

By the end of their set, he was dripping in his own sweat. He waltzed off the stage, coming face to face with you. The smile he had on his face was almost infectious, but you held it together. The rush of coming off of a set beat any other high in the world. His face was still flushed, a droplet of sweat glided down his face and all you wanted to do was lick it off. The pre-performance nerves and his newfound confidence had your mind reeling.

Luckily, he was feeling the exact same way. His eyes were wild as they latched onto yours, a silent agreement made the moment they met. Semi somehow always seemed to find you after his sets. Usually, he’d taunt you to no end but today felt different. His hands still felt on fire from how intensely he was playing his guitar. He played his best performance to date and he couldn’t help but want to be around you. To brag, yes, but also he wanted to see your reaction — maybe get your approval.

His eyes flickered down to the revealing outfit you had decided to wear for your set today. A short dress with ripped thigh high tights. How cliche. The mood switched and he was instantly pissed off, tensing his jaw as his eyes flit back up to yours. You looked too good to be dressed like that for the crowd, it only made him more frustrated.

A small nod from you and the two of you didn’t need to say anything else as you guys made your way further backstage to one of the closets that was tucked away. You both slipped inside, Semi quickly closing the door behind you.

Semi wasted no time, roughly pushing you against the wall, caging you in between his long arms. He didn’t want to hear something snarky come out of your mouth so he placed his lips over yours, swallowing the taunting words that were itching to fire past your wicked mouth.

The after-performance glow was radiating off him, pouring over you while your pre-show nerves were still setting in. Your teeth clashed against his, knocking together in something that was too messy to keep up with. Neither of you could contain yourselves, Semi was already unbuttoning his jeans while you're pushing your panties to the side, slipping a finger in to prep yourself. It was almost too easy to lose yourself in him.

“You just crave attention don't you, the way you wear the skimpiest outfits on stage. You think the only way for you to win would be with a little fan service, huh?” He tsked, smirking and pushing aside your hands to take off your panties in a fluid motion. “Shame you don’t have more faith in your actual music.”

“Like your vocalist doesn’t. How many times do I have to see Suna shirtless for you guys to finally win? Maybe you’ll get it next year.” You fired back, clawing at his shirt so you could rip it off of him. Semi had taken his shirt off at a few shows so you knew how delicious his abs looked. You ran your fingers down them, relishing in the way he sucked in a breath. Your finger lightly traced over the tattoos he had scattered around his body.

“Looks like it’s working on you, isn’t it? Besides, I think we have a decent shot at winning tonight. I mean, even you’re so impressed that you want me to fuck you.” He grabbed you by the back of your head and pulled you in for a searing kiss. It pained you how true it was. He was on fire up there today and there was a good chance he could win. But your band had yet to play and you weren’t done. Your lips moved against his ferociously, saying everything you didn’t actually have the words for. How much you hate him, how much he frustrates you, how good he feels pressed up against you. Each second your lips were against his was a second too long but you hardly cared.

“I still hate you, you know.” You rasped into his mouth, trying to get a word in as he continued to attack your swollen lips. Fed up with you interrupting his make out session, he kisses down your throat to the junction between your neck and shoulder blade, sinking his teeth in before swirling his tongue around to soothe the sting. You let out a low hiss, holding his head in place as he sucked against it.

“Glad the feelings mutual.” He said gruffly into your skin. He needed to be inside of you, he was done with your antics for the night. The room spins as Semi turns you quickly, roughly pinning you against the wall. Your face collided with the cold concrete. It was grounding you on some level, the fog started to clear from your head. Until he pressed himself into your backside, rocking his hips against you, craving some sort of friction.

“Go on then. Stop wasting my time, I have to perform soon.” You wiggled your ass on his hard cock, trying to get him to pick up the pace. It was almost cute how much you wanted him, but Semi knew he needed you to say it. To admit to wanting him, the one you drove insane, the one you had teased long enough, your dear rival.

A low laugh filled the tiny space as you felt him tap his cock against you, taunting you and making a show over his power. Slipping his hard length between your thighs, he started to move his hips. You couldn’t hold the small whine from leaving your throat. The side of your closed fist meets the wall, frustration bubbling inside of you. “Seriously?”

“It's cute you think you’re in control here. Ask nicely and maybe I’ll consider fucking your slutty little cunt.” He slid his cock up further between your legs, brushing his tip against your clit before he continued his ministrations. The action had you clenching around nothing, desperately trying to seek for more friction from him. Your slick covered his cock, making it glide so much easier between the apex of your thighs.

“Semi please.” You moaned out, biting your fist to try and quiet yourself. He ripped your hand out of your mouth and pinned it against your back, securing it in place. The small stretch in your shoulder was welcome as Semi manhandled you, adjusting you so you were right where he wanted. He leaned closer, his voice fanning the side of your face.

“Couldn't catch that, what did you say?” He sneered, running his other hand up your side to latch onto your breasts, teasing each nipple. His cock continued to slide between your thighs, winding you up more and more.

“Semi please fuck me, need to feel you, please!” You cried out, not caring about how loud you were being. The next band was probably on stage anyway, drowning out any noises the two of you were making.

“That's funny, I don't think that’s my name.”

“Eita.” You whined softly. It was more than enough for him as he shoved his cock in your wet cunt. Filling you up deliciously, he eased himself in quickly, reluctantly feeling just as impatient as you. The stretch had you seeing stars. He didn’t bother waiting too long for you to adjust before he was slamming into you with all his might, fueled by his post-show adrenaline. With your one hand pinned against your back and the other being used to hold yourself up against the wall, all you could do was bite your lip to try and hold back your moans.

There wasn’t much of a point to it though, even though the music was playing off in the distance, anyone walking by the closet would know exactly what was going on. Between the squelching from your cunt and you and Semi’s shared moans, it wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on. Semi was entranced with the way your tight cunt sucked him in. His eyes couldn’t look away, It almost scared him how good this felt. He needed to remedy that, so he’d do it in the only way he knew how to with you.

“So tight around me. Don’t you feel pathetic? Thought you hated me and yet you’re letting me use you like some slut.” He teased in your ears. Tears burned in your eyes from his truthful words as well as how fucking good he felt. You didn’t care how pathetic it seemed, it was worth it in the end.

“Shut up Eita.” You fired back, meeting your hips to match his thrusts. His hips stuttered against yours before he picked the pace back up, invigorated. His other hand reached around you, playing with your neglected nub. “C-could say the same thing about you.”

There wasn’t any point in covering your moans so you let it out.

“You make the sluttiest sounds. Everyone will know exactly what we’re doing.” he laughed, letting go of your arm to smack your ass, enjoying the view of how much it bounced with each thrust he gave you. semi knew he wasn’t going to last much longer but he needed you to finish first. “I can feel you clenching around me so tightly. Maybe someone wants to get caught. Wouldn’t that be something? Imagine the headlines. You’d really go viral then, huh?”

“Bet you want us to get caught so you can get some clout for once.” You moaned, malice lacing your voice.

“Shut up.” He demanded, wrapping a hand around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, but he held it there, a looming, empty threat. “Just take my cock like a good little slut, yeah?”

Words escaped you as he thrusted into you harder, each thrust fueled by the hate he held for you. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. His mind reeled as your tight walls wrapped around his cock, trying to pull him even deeper.

“You gonna cum f’ me?” He asked. “Go ahead, cum all over my cock. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You keen, the coil inside of you threatening to snap. With semi’s sinful words and his talented fingers working away at your nub, you let it all go. Practically crying his name out, you cum all over his cock. He didn’t bother stopping, fucking you through your orgasm leading you right to overstimulation.

“Good girl.” He groaned, relishing in the feeling of your fluttering walls. How could something so evil feel so good? You were the perfect little sin and he knew that you were going to be the death of him. It would be a hell of a way to go. “Gonna cum in you, princess. Gonna make you my little cumdump.” Both of his hands were secured on your hips, fucking into you like his life depended on it. His hips thrusted up into you, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting your sweetest spot.

“No, don’t you fucking dare.” You moaned out.

“Why not? You let me last time.” he smirked. He liked to remind you that no matter what you said or how you acted, you’d always come crawling back to him. The little situation between the two of you had been going on for quite some time. Besides, he knew you liked it when he came inside of you, filling you with all of his seed. The way you clenched around his cock only solidified that.

“Because this time I have to go on stage.” You clutched onto the wall, meeting his thrusts yet again, almost encouraging him to cum inside of you. The thought of you performing at battle of the bands with him cum fucked deep inside of you made him groan, hips stuttering as he was getting painfully close.

“Please.” he whispered out, even though he knew you wanted him too, he needed to hear you say it.

“Eita please cum in me.” You cried out, dangerously past the line of overstimulation and well on your way to another orgasm. He groaned as he watched your hand reach between your legs, getting yourself off to how Semi used your cunt to his pleasure.

“F-fuck.” He groaned out your name, pushing all the way into you as he came hard, gripping onto your hips so tightly you knew they’d leave a lasting reminder of this. You release as he’s still slowly thrusting into you, milking him for all he’s worth. You look backed at him while riding out your orgasm and see his head tossed back, totally fucked out. His jaw was slack as he gazed down at you with half-lidded eyes. Absolutely wiped from performing earlier and pumping all his cum into you.

You couldn’t choke back the whine that escaped you as he pulled out. His fingers quickly found your entrance, pushing all of his cum back into you. Your knees buckled from the overstimulation, but he easily caught you, slipping his fingers back out.

“Easy there. Might want to steady yourself because I think you’re up next.” He teased as you turned around to face him. He reached up to your eyes, smudging out some of the makeup that had started to run down your face. Even though he hated you, he didn’t want you to go up on stage looking totally fucked out. Besides, he planned on meeting up with you after the set anyway.

“You’re such an ass.” You huffed, pulling your panties up to keep the cum from dripping down your leg. You adjust the thigh highs that were barely hanging on — somewhat pooled around your ankles. He laughed at you struggling, enjoying the fact that you were about to get on stage with his cum buried deep inside of you. “Shut up. I hate you.”

“Sure you do.” He nodded, throwing his shirt back on. and ruffling up his hair.

“That was the last time.” you muttered, getting ready to leave the closet as you heard the band finishing up their set. You were up next and all your nerves came rushing back.

“Whatever you say princess.”

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#semi eita #semi x reader #semi eita x reader #semi eita x you #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #hq x you #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut

566 notes · View notes