#how am i supposed to watch something without letting it completely consume me as a person to a point that i will spend every waking moment
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what once was mine | ch 4
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.
A/N: Not sure if I'm completely happy with how this chapter came out, but I hope you still enjoy it.
Masterlist | Read ch 3 here
Loki had watched through a checkered screen how you held onto his hand as if he were your whole world. He had watched the love in your eyes and the smile on your lips, all directed at him. And now, he watched as you, in flesh and bone right in front of him, walked away.
There was a foreign feeling consuming his heart the more you distanced yourself from him. It was akin to loss, but how could he lose something that wasn't even his?
He was about to make the mistake of going after you when Mobius finally returned from the storage room he had been talking to you in.
"What happened?" Loki asked with a hint of urgency, his brows furrowed.
Mobius took in a long breath and then let it go past his lips. "She said she wants nothing to do with you."
Loki's frown only deepened, his eyes shifting between Mobius and the place you had disappeared into. If anything, he looked slightly offended. "Why?"
"Well, it's pretty obvious that she watched her Loki die, right?" Mobius gestured around, sounding a little fed up with all of this. "So it's a delicate subject, give her time, don't get on her face, don't be obnoxious, and she'll likely come around and be willing to answer whatever it is you wanna ask."
Loki blinked at the words, chewing at the inside of his cheek. "I'm not obnoxious."
─── ·❆· ───
"Stop looking at me like a lost puppy," you grumbled with a scowl on your features, gripping tightly onto your food tray.
Loki, who stood right beside you, scoffed. "I am not. I'm looking at the rice you're standing right in front of."
You breathed in, slowly, holding yourself back from rolling your eyes. It's been three weeks since Mobius tried to reintroduce you two, and for the past two weeks, you've gained a new shadow. He doesn't talk much; or interacts much with you at all for that matter. But he's always there.
TVA's cafeteria was usually bustling with people this time of day, which was exactly why you always came by at least an hour earlier; but today you got caught up with work and there was no other option than to brave the crowds, otherwise, you'd stay without lunch.
When you'd picked up everything you wanted to eat, you turned around and surveyed the spacious room for any vacant tables. By the corner and near the railings that overlooked the city—or, what you would call a city here in the TVA, because to be honest, you still weren't sure what to name most of the things in this place—stood the only vacant table left, small and round, with two lonely chairs.
You closed your eyes and mumbled a curse under your breath. You made a beeline for the table, and you didn't have to look behind you to know that Loki was following your steps.
You settled into a chair and a few seconds later Loki made himself comfortable beside you. It was… strange, having him around. The racing of your heart every time he was near you was inevitable, but you were doing the impossible to dissociate any feelings from it. He was just another variant, that was it, nothing more. You just wished you knew what his obsession with you was all about, so what if he saw his would-be future with you? That was not yours or his life anymore.
"Your food is gonna get cold."
Loki's voice caught your attention, you glanced toward him with a frown, only now realizing that you'd been poking your food around with your fork for a while, lost in thought. For a heartbeat, you held his gaze, you allowed yourself to drown in those ever-familiar bright eyes that you'd missed so much. But before you could lose yourself in the ocean, you swam back up. This wasn't your Loki, no; you had to remind yourself of it, time and time again. For your own sake, you had to believe in that lie.
For the last couple of weeks that he'd been following you around, more and more you noticed the same glint in Loki's eyes, a mix between expectant and lost. You wondered if even he knew what exactly he wanted from you.
The only answer you gave to him was a low hum.
─── ·❆· ───
The days inside the TVA blend together easily, that was something you learned in your first few weeks here. In all fairness, it's what one would expect for a place out of time. Sometimes the day they captured you as just another variant felt like ages ago. Sometimes, it felt like just yesterday.
It had been difficult when you first arrived here, nearly unbearably so. In the blink of an eye, you had lost your entire life, everyone you still loved and held dear became unreachable. It was either starting a new life here, or ending your life altogether. For some reason, you still felt like living.
The TVA kept you busy then, enough for you to not succumb to panic. As days went by, it became easier; as time passed, or as Mobius would tell you, as time passed differently, you became almost numb to what you'd lost. Almost.
A sigh went past your lips as you ran your fingertips over the paper. Mobius usually had you go over each file reporting a possible new Loki variant. Finding patterns and creating connections they otherwise wouldn't have noticed. You tried not to dwell too much on the fact that you had to use your connection to the person you once loved as a form of work.
Your desk stood by the edge of the library, away from too much commotion, a cozy little space you'd given your own personal touch to over the time you'd been here. A few books here, a small cassette player there, a snack drawer, a sketchbook, a purple desk lamp; small things to remind yourself you were still human.
As much as you could, you made a new home here.
A shadow suddenly appeared over the paper in your hands, you straightened your posture on your chair before looking up.
Loki stood before you, in his dress shirt and dark jacket with the word variant on the back—you'd worn one of those too on your first days here, now that you recall. He held a fresh stack of papers in his hands that already had you internally groaning.
"Mobius sends his regards," Loki smirked as he dropped the papers on your desk.
"Great," you mumbled, sarcasm dripping from your words, "it's not like I wanted to sleep tonight anyway."
A beat passed and you could feel Loki's gaze still lingering on you. From the corner of your eyes you watched as his fingers nervously tapped the wood of your desk. You hated that you knew this habit of his oh so well.
"Maybe I could assist you." Loki pulled a chair from the empty table to your left, setting it on the edge of your desk so he could sit down. But before he did so, he said, "If you'd like."
He was giving you an out from spending time with him, even if that was clearly what he wanted. You nearly took it. Your lips hung open, ready to say something like; I work better alone, or go bother someone else. But your eyes suddenly had a faint burn behind them, your chest squeezing tight around your heart—the heart that still bled and missed him every day. "Knock yourself out," you found yourself saying, without looking up from your paperwork.
Loki sat down on his chair beside you, took a few of the papers in his hands, and for a good few minutes, the silence that lingered between you was, surprisingly, somewhat comfortable.
Stealing glances at you was inevitable. As Loki read the files in his hands, the words started to blur together, and he found his gaze drifting to you. He observed the way you'd frown slightly as you read over the lines, sometimes scoffing or mumbling something to yourself.
You were quite annoying, Loki had to agree with Mobius on that. Stubborn, closed off, and hard to read. If it were anyone else, Loki wouldn't even consider losing his time of day, but each time he saw you, his heart jumped and stumbled inside his chest, he grew short of breath, cold hands turning clammy. It was inevitable. His body acting against his will, as if his soul ached to touch yours.
He had to know why.
"May I ask," Loki began, hints of hesitance in his words.
Your eyebrow perked up a little, but you still refused to look at him.
Loki pursed his lips before speaking, "Mobius mentioned you've been here a while, that he found you could be useful. But he never went into detail." He let go of the papers in his hands, "how did you get here? Why didn't they prune you?"
You visibly tensed. Jaw setting tightly into place as you took in a short breath through your nose. For several moments, you kept quiet, eyes fixed on the same words in the file you held as you considered whether to humor him or not. You weren't sure why you answered, the words simply rolled off your tongue; a subconscious reaction to the sound of his voice.
"It was my fault, I tried to travel through time when I knew I shouldn't. They caught me pretty much immediately." You chuckled humorlessly, stealing a glance toward Loki only to find his eyes already focused on you. You nearly drowned again. "They kept me around because…" You hesitated, and then merely gestured to the scattered papers on your desk; "I know a lot about Lokis," you shrugged, "and they needed help with that."
A small frown came to Loki's features as he weighed your words. He twirled one of your pencils between his fingers. "Why would you travel through time if you knew you shouldn't?"
Immediately, Loki knew he'd touched a nerve. Your whole demeanor changed, it almost felt like a curtain had fallen over you and a whole new person sat beside him. What little you had began to open up, was back under lock and key.
You didn't raise your voice, you didn't lash out. You simply cleared your throat, turned away from him, and said; "I thought you wanted to stay to help me work. So either do that, or leave me be."
Loki's lips hovered, ready to retaliate with a quip of his own, but he bit back any words he might want to say. Give her time.
He nodded to no one in particular, and indeed went back to work.
Later at night, when the TVA was strangely quiet, and most people had already turned in for the night. Loki glanced beside him only to find you drifting into sleep; one hand holding your cheek and the other loosely holding a pencil that had scratched a weird, faint line into the file on your desk.
It felt unexpectedly intimate. Loki glanced from one side of the dim-lit library to the other, as if looking for a clue on what he should do.
Carefully, almost comically so, he took the pencil from your delicate hold and stacked the file you had with the small pile he'd created.
The desk lamp right beside you cast a faint glow over your features, shaping your cheekbones, nose, and lips. Loki couldn't help but notice, that the light also shaped a thin but rather deep scar running from your forehead to the beginning of your left eyebrow; from the look of it, it appeared to have been there for a while now.
Without giving himself too much room to overthink, Loki reached out and gave a single push to your shoulder. His fingers tingled from your warmth.
You stirred awake, gasping softly as soon as you opened your eyes. You blinked several times, willing your mind to focus back on reality.
"I suppose we're done," Loki told you, keeping his voice just an octave lower as he turned his gaze to the small stack of papers. "If you're quick, you can still grab a few hours of sleep before the new day starts."
"Right," you breathed, running a hand through your hair. Eyebrows still furrowed as you processed what was happening.
You tidied your desk in silence, and Loki put the chair he had borrowed back in its place. He turned to you then, half expecting you to simply turn around and walk away. You didn't, and maybe it was a trick of the light, or the fact that he could visibly notice your eyes dropping from tiredness, but your features were the softest he had ever seen them be. A quick glimpse of the girl he'd first seen from the life he was supposed to have.
Loki held his breath. He wasn't sure why, but he did.
"Thank you for the help," you gave him a tight-lipped smile, refusing to hold his gaze for more than a second, "see you around."
With that, you turned around and left. Loki's heartbeat kept the same rushed pace until he reached his own small bedroom.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Read ch 5 here
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AGE DOESN'T MATTER 23
Dad!Bakugo x Teacher!Babysitter!Reader
22
7 p.m. is what it says to the clock and Katsuki hasn't arrived yet. It seems like Eijiro is quite busy as well for Kazui is still with her.
You were starting to feel uneasy since something must've come up that caused them to be this late. After checking your watch once again, you've decided to just drop Kazui yourself. The thing is, you don't know where Katsuki's parents live and you doubt you'll get a detailed answer from him.
'Well, no harm in trying.' You thought to yourself and poked Kazui who was busy watching some cartoons on your phone.
"Kazui-chan." You called out making Kazui look up at you confused.
"Hai?" He responded.
"Do you know where your bachan lives?" You asked.
You were surprised when Kazui told you the complete address, including the lot number.
"H-how?" You were amazed.
"Papa told me if I got lost, I can state Bachan's address so that someone can take me there safely!" Kazui beamed.
"That's very smart of you, Kazui-chan." You praised and gently patted his head smiling.
"Thank you!" Kazui answered.
"What do you say I drop you instead to your bachan?" You suggested. "I don't think Uncle Eiji will be here anytime soon. Something must've come up."
Kazui just nodded when you noticed him yawning. Of course, he's exhausted.
"Alright. Let's pack our stuff and head out." You said.
Y/n began fixing her things as well as Kazui. Once finished, she checked everything and left the school taking Kazui's hand to hers. She plans on buying something to consume on their way as well since it's been hours since Kazui ate anything.
Y/n took Kazui to a ramen house where Kazui finished his meal almost immediately and ate his yogurt on the bus. You intentionally made him sit at the window seat so that he'd be able to point out the place.
"We're here!" He suddenly exclaimed while pointing to a certain house.
Y/n pressed the stop button resulting in the bus halting a few blocks away from where Kazui's pointing. Carefully, Y/n guided Kazui out of the bus and headed to where he was pointing.
'If this is the wrong house, she could just apologize and say it's the wrong house.' Y/n thought while internally praying, as well as readying herself for the excuse.
When they reached the porch, Y/n shakingly pressed the doorbell twice. She was ready to make an excuse, chanting it over and over in her head. Her dread vanished when a woman who looked exactly like a female version of Katsuki opened the door.
"Can I- Kazui!?" Mitsuki shrieked. "Where the hell is your father?!"
"Bachaaan!!" Kazui beamed hugging Mitsuki.
"That brat," Mitsuki mumbled. "Masaru! Your brat left Kazui to some- wait." She blinked, finally looking at you. "Who are you?"
"O-oh!" Y/n stuttered. "I am Y/n L/n." She said and bowed down. "I am Kazui-chan's homeroom teacher, as well as his babysitter."
"Did Kat-, Bakugo leave Kazui to you?" Mitsuki asked and let Kazui in the house.
"Oh, not entirely." Y/n sweat dropped. "Kazui has been waiting for Kirishima to pick him up. But it seems like something came up. I realized it was getting a bit late so I decided to drop Kazui myself, which I am a bit thankful he knew the whole address." She explained, chuckling in the end.
"Oh what am I doing, come in!"
---
"Glad we were able to catch that villain. Man, I thought I'd leave patrol early today." Eijiro said while sitting on the stretcher and letting someone treat his wounds. "Sorry, I couldn't pick up Kazui today."
"Shit!" Katsuki cussed.
"What is it?" Eijiro asked looking at Katsuki in panic.
"I have a fucking date today!"
"What?! With who!?" Eijiro exclaimed. "Bro. You realized it's 8:30 in the evening already, right?"
"I'm supposed to fucking pick her up at the daycare."
Without hesitating, Katsuki told the medic to stop treating him.
"Who!? Where- Dynamight!!!" Eijiro called out. "Awe man."
Katsuki darted away from the scene focusing on getting to the daycare fast, hoping Y/n and Kazui were still there. But as soon as he reached the establishment, he saw that the lights were out and the portico was locked.
"Fuck!" He cussed loudly.
'She must've taken Kazui her. But where? At her home? Yeah. Probably it.' Katsuki thought to himself and blasted himself towards Y/n's apartment.
It took him a few minutes to get there only to notice that her lights were off as well.
"What the hell?" He mumbled. "Where the hell are they.." Katsuki said. He went to the window to check closer but saw no one.
The only place he hasn't gone yet is his own house and his parents.
"Damn it." He cussed once again and blasted away.
---
"So, you've been spending time with Katsuki." Mitsuki was surprised after learning this. It irritates her that Katsuki never tells him anything. "So, how's he?"
Y/n, who was sitting in the dining with Mitsuki smiled. "He's very-"
"Difficult?"
"A-ah. No..." Y/n sweat dropped. "He's really sweet." She giggled. "Whenever I come over to take care of Kazui, I usually cook dinner for 3 people. He'll get mad at me for cooking instead of ordering takeout since he always leaves enough cash for takeouts."
"What do you do to the money he leaves?" Mitsuki asked before sipping her cup of tea.
'Ah.' Y/n thought. It seems like she knew what Mitsuki was doing.
"I bought groceries." Y/n looked down as she said this. "I noticed that there aren't any greens in the fridge. It's usually meat, cereal, a bunch of juices, and a few spices."
"What happened to Katsuki." Mitsuki facepalmed. "That kid is always passionate about his cooking."
"He always complains whenever I cook for him, but he'll eat it anyway." Y/n giggled and took a sip of her tea.
"Why do you do it?" Mitsuki's getting interested in Y/n.
"I can see how tired and exhausted he is whenever he gets home from work."
As Y/n went on to explain, she didn't know that Mitsuki was watching her facial features. Her expression changes whenever she mentions something about Katsuki.
'He'll be so lucky to have this woman.' Mitsuki thought smiling to herself. "Ah. I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself." She smiled. "I'm Mitsuki Bakugo, and here my husband, Masaru Bakugo. You can just call me Mitsuki."
"Oh. It is a pleasure, Mitsuki." Y/n stood up and bowed as a sign of respect.
---
Reaching his own house, Katsuki can see the lights are as well off.
"What the hell?"
He's starting to get worried. Did someone kidnap them? Did they know who Y/n is?
"Fuck!" The only thing he can think of now is to call. But as he tries to reach for his phone, he realizes he left it in his office which frustrates him more.
The only place he hasn't checked is his parents where he doubts, they will be there, but he was hoping they are.
---
"Masaru," Mitsuki called out for her husband signaling him to come over.
Y/n was with Kazui in the living room, obviously spending time with him.
"Yes, dear?" Masaru responded.
"We haven't fully known Y/n right here but I'm liking her for Katsuki right now." She was grinning ear to ear while murmuring what she said.
"What makes you say that?" Masaru said placing a palm on Mitsuki's shoulder.
"I heard the things she did for him. She's the woman I want for our son." Mitsuki smiled.
"You know we just can't-"
"Set them up," Mitsuki answered mischievously.
"Katsuki's smart, dear."
"Not with us." She snickered. "Y/n dear! Come here!"
Y/n blinked curiously but stood up anyway and went to Mitsuki and Masaru.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Eh?
This question made you blink again. "Huh?"
"Oh! We apologize for snooping around. You are a very lovely woman so we're guessing you have a man in your life." Mitsuki's a great actor alright.
"U-um. I don't have a boyfriend." You stuttered but confused. "It's been years since I last had one."
"Why's that, sweetie?" She was curious, okay?
"I just don't have enough time to look for someone..." You answered truthfully. "If someone came into my life, then I'll accept them wholeheartedly."
"I swear to god if they aren't here-"
Just as Y/n finished her sentence, Katsuki came barging in. Everyone was jolted by his entrance, making them all look at him, and Kazui, well, ran to Y/n in fear.
Mitsuki though, after seeing it was only her son, stomped her way to Katsuki and gave him a hard smack on his head which made Y/n gasp.
"That's normal, Y/n," Masaru says assuring her.
"Ooh.." Y/n said in response.
"Why the hell are you barging in here like that!? You gave us a heart attack you idiot!"
"I was looking for Y/n and Kazui!"
"That doesn't change the fact that you almost killed us all!"
"How the hell would I do that woman!?"
"Who are you calling woman, hah!?"
Then Mitsuki gave Katsuki another smack whilst Masaru just sighed in the background, smiling.
"A-ano.." Y/n's voice halted both the blonde-haired.
Both blonde-haired paused in bickering when they heard Y/n's voice making them look at her.
"Kazui!" Katsuki called out as he reached for Kazui, embracing him tightly. "I was so worried." He breathes out what after seeing Kazui safe.
"Papaaaaa." Kazui groaned, squirming a little while being embraced by his father. "I'm okay!"
Mitsuki just slightly shook her head while witnessing the scene.
"How did they get here?" Katsuki asked as he stood up looking at his mother.
"They knock at the door, genius," Mitsuki answered crossing her arms.
"I- whatever." Katsuki facepalmed.
"A-ano.." You stuttered. "Kazui-chan gave me the address."
He was so focused on Kazui that he almost forgot that you were also here in his parent's house. So when his eyes gaze upon you, he can't help but blush a little which goes unnoticed by Mitsuki who smirks seeing this.
"Tsch." Katsuki tched. "Thanks for keeping Kazui safe."
"It's my responsibility as his teacher and babysitter." You smiled.
"I'm guessing you've met my old hag here," Katsuki mumbles as he scratches his cheeks.
Y/n was a bit distraught. She never focuses on what he is saying because Katsuki is covered in bruises, scratches, wounds, and dirt. She was tempted to heal him.
"Katsuki.." Y/n called out softly.
Katsuki stopped talking and looked at her raising an eyebrow.
"I apologize for cutting you, but I hope you don't mind if I take a look at your bruises. It might get infected... Especially those open wounds.." Y/n said staring at Katsuki worriedly.
"Now that you mentioned it," Mitsuki spoke up. "You look terrible! I was just watching you and Eijiro defeat that villain! Why aren't you patched up!?"
Katsuki only rolled his eyes hearing his mother yell at him, but deep inside he kinda missed it. "Eijiro was getting patched up." Katsuki started. "I was going to as well when he fu-, mentioned Kazui. Since I made plans with Y/n as well, I thought of picking him up instead. But I realized it was a bit late, and looked around for them."
"Be glad that your son knows our address." Mitsuki sighed.
"Son, why don't you use your old bedroom and stay here for tonight?" Masaru walked towards them, smiling. "Your mother can help you with those while I prepare dinner. I'm sure Miss Y/n and Kazui are starving as well."
"A-ah! You don't have to-"
"That would be lovely!" Mitsuki beamed.
"Tsch." Well, it was not a bad idea. "Fine. Only because I'm exhausted."
"Alright then! I'll bring the aid kit while your father-
"Give it to Y/n," Katsuki said finally removing his combat boots.
"Ha?" Mitsuki was confused.
"She's a healer." Katsuki simply said making Y/n's eyes wide open.
"How did y-you know?.." Y/n stuttered.
"Doesn't matter," Katsuki said.
"Oh? That's very interesting, Y/n." Mitsuki smiled. "You can patch Katsuki in his room. I can finally spend time with my grandson!"
---
Katsuki went to his old bedroom along with Y/n following him. He didn't expect his night to turn this way but he was a bit glad to have some a little privacy with Y/n.
"This is my old room," Katsuki said stopping in front of a door.
He slowly pushed the door open and switched the lights on revealing a tidy room with a bunch of Almight stuff around the room.
"I see a fan." Y/n giggled while they both walked into the room.
"Whatever," Katsuki answered. "Be thankful it's not like Izuku's." He mumbled.
"Hm?"
"I'll go shower." He said. "You can wait here. Just sit on the bed, I guess."
"Oh. I'll prepare the med kit while waiting for you." Y/n smiled.
"Alright. I'll be quick." Katsuki said and left.
A few minutes passed, and Katsuki got out of the shower fully clothed. He decided to just change in the bathroom so that it wouldn't create any awkwardness between him and Y/n. He also wore something that might help Y/n while she heals him.
"Would these clothes be a bother?" He asked slowly approaching Y/n who was comfortably sitting on the bed.
Hearing his voice shook her a little bit. Luckily she managed to hide it.
As she looked at Katsuki, her eyes widened on seeing what he was wearing. A loose black tank top along with what seems like sleepwear shorts stops a few inches above his knee.
"Oi."
Y/n blinked when he called out. "I-it's okay."
Katsuki sat across from her, not too close but not too far either. He watched how she took a bunch of stuff out of the kit as if she was familiar with what she was doing. Like a muscle memory almost.
"I have a question." Katsuki suddenly blurts out.
"Oh, uh. What is it?" Y/n asked while focusing on the liquid disinfectant.
"Why didn't you take the medical field?" As if hitting a sensitive spot, Katsuki noticed how her movements turned slow. "You don't have to answer if it's something sensitive." He quickly added.
"No, no. It's fine." Y/n smiled at him. "It's not sensitive as well." She said. "I just dont like seeing people die. Especially under my care." She sighed as the smile never left her lips. "I get attached easily which is not a good thing as a doctor, or so I was told. Haha."
While reading the formula of the disinfectant, Y/n managed to answer Katsuki. "I wanted to be a doctor. But since I am a very emotional person, I decided to just teach."
"Why didn't you tell me your quirk is healing?"
Y/n giggled remembering her reason.
"The hell is so funny about it, hah?" Katsuki was confused as to why she found his question amusing.
"Sorry!" Y/n apologized immediately. "I just think that you might find my reason foolish."
"I won't if you tell me." Katsuki tsked.
"Well. I watched you a lot on the television. All your interviews." Y/n started.
"Right," Katsuki smirked. "I forgot that you're a fan of Dynamight."
"S-shut it.." Y/n blushed. "Anyway," after clearing her throat, she continues, "Dynamight is a very protective person and doesn't want to cause any harm to anyone. Since my quirk causes self-harm, I know you'd be against it if I used it on you or Kazui when I started working for you."
She does have a point.
"So, the day you got home injured, I told Kirishima to not say a word when I both mended you two," Y/n explained while dabbing the liquid on a cotton ball.
"You think I'll let you use it on me, huh?" Katsuki said looking at her.
"H-huh?"
"Of course fucking not." He added and looked away. "You're precious to me. I don't want you getting hurt." He said while his face was turning red.
Y/n's face was worse though, hers was redder than tomato. "U-um.. Your a-arm, please.."
"Wha t do you even like about Dynamight, huh," Katsuki asked out of nowhere while he raised his arm and felt her gentle grasp on his skin. For some reason, it feels very comforting.
"What do I like about him?" Y/n smiled. "He was very passionate about saving people. I admire how bold he is in every situation. No matter what kind of villain he faces, he assures people that he'll defeat them. I just hate it when people misunderstand him just by judging him. They didn't know that without his hero suit, Dynamight was a very different person."
---
"Hey, Masaru." Mistuki called out while preparing the food with her husband.
"Yes, dear?" Masaru answered.
"Did you notice what Katsuki said earlier?" Mitsuki said pausing on washing the vegetables.
"Hm.." Masaru thinks for a second before answering, "Which part?"
"Katsuki said he has plans with Y/n." Mitsuki looked at Masaru as she said this. "I think Katsuki doesn't need our help."
Masaru just smiled at his wife. "Like I said, our son is smart."
24
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Happy New year, everyone!! I am back!!! I hope you like this part!
Thank you for all your patience! 🥺🥺
#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#bnha bakugou#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader
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WONDER TEA PARTY - PART 1
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ROUGE : I'm already stressed out!!!!
SHAYMIE : Sooo stressed. Hehehe~♪♪
ROUGE : Oh? Shaymie, you know how I feel? It's just too much pressure, I had to drink.
EMMA : But Rouge, you usually drink even without any problems?
ROUGE : True, but this situation makes me wanna drink even more. Oh, blue~ Blue deeper than the sea~
FELD : Hey, you guys have been really loud for the last few minutes! You've almost downed that whole bottle!
MEL : No amount of whining is going to solve the problem, right? You guys really are useless.
OSCAR : Rouge, you're a grown man, if you want to get drunk that's fine. Just remember to have respect for the food in front of you.
VOLKS : Hmm, indeed. It would be a shame to consume such fine food and drink out of mere desperation. They should be cherished.
ROUGE : Thank you so much for the delicious food and drinks. See, I respect it very much. I'm sure both of you are a little nervous inside as well?
VOLKS : I wouldn't say that I am nervous, however, it is true that this request is quite challenging.
FELD : Oscar…It's been a long time since I've seen you this angry.
Just why are we all having a party right now? And why do we all look so upset? The reason for all of this lies in a request I received from a certain royal family to "produce a perfect tea party."
ROUGE : Even though it's supposed to be a tea party, I want it to be relaxed and not too formal. You should be able to lay back and enjoy your time.
ROUGE : Shaymie, let's go with a fun, easy going, up-tempo song.
OSCAR : How about a fun and carefree atmosphere with free choice of confectionery?
VOLKS : Then the dress code should be fun and loose opposed to the traditional rigid formal attire.
ROUGE : We've made a lot of proposals, but they were all rejected! My recommendation of an "all-you-can-drink party" also got rejected, didn't it?
EMMA : I think it was fair to reject that one...
EMMA : Your Majesty's opinion is certainly not in line with your concept of "carefree fun."
FELD : Are you fucking kidding me!?
ROUGE : Of course~ I knew when I heard this job would involve the royal family I'd hate it.
VOLKS : The client this time is an excellent politician. But maybe because of that rigidity, he dislikes things that are laid back and fun. It seems some people can't break out of their shells easily. But, I'd like to help him try.
OSCAR : Hmm…If this keeps up the tea party attendees will be forced to eat a full course of "nothing."
FELD : Then why not refuse? It's not too late.
OSCAR : As much as I'd like to, there is more merit in accepting the offer. We are dealing with a country that produces fine food. Rare food at that. He is prepared to offer some as a reward for this request. It's an investment for the future of the gastronomy guild, so to speak.
VOLKS : As a dream weaver, I intend to complete this request as well. His majesty is a good person, if we can break him out of his shell, he will be an even more dignified king.
MEL : So you're going to polish him up because he's not good enough? You're still a real sucker, aren't you, Volks?
SHAYMIE : And why is Rouge here?
ROUGE : I'm a good poet, and I'm also the kind of poet who always takes on the hardest jobs一
EMMA : They are finally threatening to kick Rouge out of the Moon Wanderers. He has to do this to stay in the guild. I'm his chaperone.
SHAYMIE : Aaah! I drew that in my picture diary~! Let's see… Rouge spent a lot of money. Rouge said, "I spent a lot of money." Gran said, "I'm so mad at you!", Rouge replied, "That's why I'm going to work hard even if I hate my job."
FELD : I'm beyond angry, I'm disgusted.
MEL : Are you ashamed to be alive~?
ROUGE : Don't say something so hurtful in such a silly pose! It's breaking my heart!
I take a sip of my cocktail and watch as Rouge is goaded by the black fairies.
EMMA : (Of course, we should take the client's wishes into consideration. Hmm…I'm really not sure what to do.)
With every suggestion the royal family rejected, I was beginning to lose hope...
ROUGE : Emma, are you okay? You look a little tired.
EMMA : I'm fine! I'm just getting a little impatient…
VOLKS : You're doing the best you can, Emma.
OSCAR : It's not over yet. You should eat up and get your strength back.
EMMA : Thank you very much…
While complaining about how much we hate work, we all enjoyed a drink together.
EMMA : (…..Huh……?)
A sudden drowsiness hits me, and my vision blurs.
EMMA : (….I can't…open….my eyes….)
?? : Wake up, Emma!
EMMA : ………..?
ROUGE : Oh, thank goodness! You had me worried sick!
SHAYMIE : Emma, are you okay~?
EMMA : (I was just having a drink with the guys at Edouard's Castle, I think…So, how did we end up here?)
ROUGE : Where the heck are we? I suddenly felt sleepy and when I woke, it was daybreak.
SHAYMIE : Hahaha~ Where are we? I don't remember how I got here!
EMMA : Rouge…Shaymie…
I'm trying to figure this whole thing out, but I can't help but notice...
EMMA : Um…What the heck are those ears!?
ROUGE : Hahaha, these? I dunno I just woke up and they were on my head. They're like Rabbit ears or something.
SHAYMIE : Jump! Jump! Jump!
EMMA : Shaymie, I don't think this is the time…Why do you both have bunny ears?
ROUGE : You have rabbit ears on your head, too.
EMMA : Wait, what!? They're really on my head!?
FELD : Where the hell am I!? Why am I dressed like this!?
EMMA : Feld!? You look so flashy!
FELD : It's not my intention!
?? : Hmm….
I heard the sound of a cloak fluttering and when I turned to look, there was Oscar. Clad in an immaculate outfit that would make anyone want to prostrate themselves.
OSCAR : What is going on here?
ROUGE : Wow, cool!
EMMA : So cool!
MEL : Hey, what's going on? Why am I suddenly dressed like this?
VOLKS : What an interesting outfit, Mel.
ROUGE : Wow, yours is nice too Volks! I dig the stylish hat~!
EMMA : Yes, it's lovely!
SHAYMIE : Emma is copying Rouge~♪♪
VOLKS : You look lovely too, Emma.
EMMA : Oh, thank you…?
MEL : No, seriously, what is going on!? Were we all kidnapped at the same time!?
ROUGE & EMMA : Kidnapped!?
ROUGE : What are we gonna do, Emma? The Moon Wanderers don't have the money to pay a ransom!
EMMA : Calm down, Rouge! We aren't sure we've been kidnapped yet.
VOLKS : Right. Let's first get an accurate picture of what is going on. Oscar, do you recognize these woods?
OSCAR : I don't know…I know we are nowhere near the castle of Edouard.
?? : Hey….
MEL : Who's there?
EMMA : (I think I just heard a voice…Was that coming from my feet?)
I glanced down and saw all kinds of brightly colored flowers blooming underfoot.
SHAYMIE : Did that flower just speak?
FELD : Flowers don't talk.
FLOWER 1 : Welcome, welcome! If you want to know anything, I'll tell you everything! If you don't want to know anything, I'll still tell you everything!
ROUGE & FELD & MEL : It talked!?
FLOWER 2 : Everything is weird here!
FLOWER 3 : It's Wondermare!
#Otome#Yumekuro#Yumekuro Translations#YMKR translations#YMKR#Dream Meister Translations#Otome Translations#Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy#Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy translations#tea1
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I feel like the worst version of myself at the moment.
I'm 23,
Married,
I have a 18 month old son who I love more than anything,
But I'm still not fulfilled completely,
Still not "happy",
Not content.
Money isn't supposed to be everything & yet- it involves literally almost everything you want to do,
You are supposed to be confident but not too confident that you let your own ego swallow up your soul and turn you against yourself with pure vanity,
You are supposed to keep learning new things, keep climbing up the ladder with a career and a job and a house and your own creative endeavors all at the same time-
But you look down and only realize that you have 2 hands,
Oh how satisfying would it be to have an abundant amount of hands so you can do as many things you want to do all at once without the worry of working with only the 2 that you have.
I feel like I have this big heavy hole living inside of my chest- a swarming sea of complete blackness and negativity and self-sabatage and depression,
And it has tenticals- trying to pull whatever is lying nearby into the hole of darkness that sinks deeper inside of me, it wants more victims to feed on- because it almost has a sense that my will is becoming too weak for its liking.
I try to patch up the hole when I need to-
Forcing it to only feed on me, but sometimes it still finds its way outside of myself, bringing other people down with me, and it's painful to watch.
I know myself one day,
Then I don't the next;
"Who are you?" I ask my reflection in the mirror.
I think to myself; I am a mom,
A wife,
A dog-lover,
A writer,
A dreamer-
Then I feel that all-too-fimilar pang run through the middle of my chest and I can see the blackness of the hole beginning to show itself right in front of me - extending its sinister tentacles my way, slowly wrapping itself around my throat-
Wanting more than anything to swallow me hole;
but I turn away and pretend it was never there to begin with.
I feel like a disappointment to everyone that I love.
"Why can't you just do the right thing?!" My consciousness screams loudly inside of my head.
"Why do you make things more complicated than they need to be?!" It continues.
"Why can't you just BE HAPPY?!" It relents.
My mind swarms with thoughts similar to these on an almost constant never-ending cycle, leaving me feeling helpless and dry and with hardly any motivation to do what's "right.".
What even is the right thing to do?
I believe I am a good person at heart, but I also admit I do partake in some stupid ignorant things that I know is wrong at times.
But why?
Why, why why?
It feels good for maybe a split second and then I am being tossed back and forth inside my own head about whether or not I am worthy of this life. Because someone who makes bad decisions and then still convinces themselves that they are a "good person" in their heads is not a person who will grow mentally in a good way.
I'm petrified of falling into the abyss of nothingness everyday-
The black hole that tries to consume me on a daily basis,
It's tiring,
I want the life I deserve and I want to be the best version of myself but how can I do that if I am still attempting to find that best version?
I feel like the best version of me is hiding inside a dark corner of my mind, scared to show herself in fear of the possibility of rejection from the outside world,
The possibility of getting used,
Getting run over by a tractor trailer that is called "life" after doing all that she could to make the best life for herself because she deserved it.
It's something that scares me night and day,
And I'm slowly working on getting over that fear before the black hole keeps trying to consume me; because that is a battle I want to win, but also a battle I'm not sure I can fight.
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Thoughts about grief
Warnings: I get personal about death and loss, reflecting on its effects
It’s interesting, to know loss when you can still know those times before, feel that warmth and closeness despite the empty chill of the present. It’s strange, hungry and consuming, tearing off small pieces with every time it circles back around. But it doesn’t always have to hurt, sometimes grief is removing the anger and knowing there’s nothing you could have done, sometimes it is knowing that you still had those moments even if you’ll never have them back.
It hurts, aches, stings, burns, chills, etc. Etc. It lingers, it fades, it clings, but it still finds a place eventually.
But god do I wish I didn’t have to feel it sometimes. It’s been a decade since I left home and when I got back she wasn’t there, it’s been a decade since I heard her laugh to the point I can’t remember what it sounded like, it’s been a decade since I asked ‘where’s mom?’ and had sobs answer me.
It hurts still, fresh pangs now and again, silent tears when I think of the songs she’d play when driving, a low ache when I see pictures of her smiling, a longing for someone I only saw again on a cold table later (days? Week? Time didn’t really have a hold on me after that, I don’t even know how long it had been before I was shakily going back to school in a whole new place). She didn’t look like she was supposed, she was all dolled up when she was the kind of lunatic that would drive through the mud and lift weights up and down our driveway smiling when I’d cheer her on in a squeaky little voice. She didn’t wear makeup like how they dressed her up, but well, it was an empty imitation, right?
I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel. You think that I would know, but that’s the funny thing, you can’t always explain emotions and response. You can certainly try to predict it or manipulate it, but I know it will happen as it wants.
It’s gotten easier to acknowledge, that’s for certain. I used to burst into tears whenever I heard certain songs, I was reduced to sobs because of a ‘yo mama’ joke, I would lay in bed at night and feel empty.
It was a strange time, but well. I can say her name now without burning completely. I can listen to those songs and feel some sense of closeness instead of emptiness. Hell, I’ll even make jokes in turn when people bring up moms. Sometimes night still makes me somber and quiet, but that’s okay.
And I mean, I may have lost a mom, but I gained a lot after.
I have a mother, who will never replace my ma, but she was there for me and still is. I love and appreciate her. I have new siblings, I don’t care to add the ‘step’ on because they’re as true to me as blood will ever be. They’re dumbasses sometimes but I’ll do anything for em. I have new friends that have stuck by me, I got a best friend I can depend on, I got people in my corner who I can trust. I adore those knuckleheads. And well, here I am still. Cause of a bunch of silly internet people, I remember y’all even if I haven’t talked with any of y’all in years and I don’t know where you went, but damn. I started writing again, I started doing art again, I grew and became who I am, and well. Ain’t that something?
I got a whole collage of new people I’ve met, I got absoute dorks who I plan evil little stories with, I got folk I play dnd with and laugh with, I got those who make me feel real when I lose my grip. And goddamn, ain’t that something!
Because I lost a lot. But I also gained a lot.
If I could go back, well I don’t know what I’d do. I’d like to say I’d tell her don’t go for that drive, watch out for those trees, dad stay with her, anything like that, but? I don’t know. And well, as much as I can think about it or wonder, I’m in the present. Not the past.
There’s no point in ignoring it, that only buries things and lets em fester, but I will not try to forget. I’m here, I hurt, but I’m doing okay.
I’ve seen life and death, I’ve lost more people, I’ve had to leave some behind, I’ve gotten horrible news, I’ve lost family members, I’ve been betrayed; and still. I wouldn’t give that up. Because that’s life sometimes, you have to open yourself up if you’re to feel, it’s natural that hurt happens because of that.
I remember their influence on me, I remember her face, I remember how I’ve met so many I’ve known, and there’s more for me to do.
More places to go.
More things to try.
More thoughts to have.
More creatures to discover.
More shows to watch.
More art to create.
More people to love.
Because when the world is too big for me, when I am a mere speck, when I am full of emotions and hurting; I will still love. I will be loved.
That’s got to be worth it. I think it’s worth it. I mean, grief is simply a cause of love, ain’t it? Love that was worth it.
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Why are you so kind to me?
It’s just how I am, and you deserve kindness and compassion
We met in the last place I would ever be and it never should have happened…but that didn’t stop us. Revealing later that we both were supposed to be at the same place a few blocks away meant this meeting was destined to happen.
I see you in my mind and I involuntarily grin, silly fuzzy monstrosity around your neck that night because it was fashionable and I got for cheap on Amazon!
I remember locking eyes and thinking this wasn’t a good idea, and yet it kept happening until you shattered my hope. You were nothing like I expected, your accent charming as you oozed a confidence only few can authentically carry. But even then, when I took your hand and our skin touched, we both acknowledged that we had no idea it’d lead us here.
We banter, we disagree, you don’t bend and I refuse to break…a true meeting of wills that as exhilarating as it is echoes a bit of confusion. You belong here, but I don’t. This isn’t my home, and I’m playing a dangerous game I’m bound to lose if I’m not careful.
I cross my own line, daring you to balk like the rest do…it’s what I count on. It’s the only way I feel like I can win because you make me feel like losing just this once wouldn’t be so bad. But you do your worst, you cross that line with me as you wait to see if I’m going to tear into you for making this more complicated. Watching me carefully as I raise an eyebrow, clearly impressed by your boldness.
I wait, time unimportant as this seems to be the tipping point. You take your calloused tattooed hand and wrap it around the back of my neck decisively as you pull me in to meet you. Lips and tongues tasting like whiskey and tequila, heat all consuming as we ignore the crowds and lose every ounce of shame we may have had. Nothing was uncertain, pulling you in by your belt loops as natural as if I’d been doing it for years.
And yeah, we do it again for good measure.
It wasn’t like me, wasn’t like you, and yet that’s where it all began. You ask me to move my flight, I tell you no, and you assume this is a battle you’ll win eventually. Ever confident in your abilities to make things happen, it’s frustrating when I look back and realize you were right.
That rescheduled flight snowballed whatever this was as I spent time with a complete stranger that drinks the same coffee order and wants nothing more than to nap and watch sci-fi tv shows. You were so simple then, and it’s what I think made falling for you inevitable.
Life then kicked in, and after months of going our own ways and dealing with the fallout…I apologize for breaking something I didn’t think mattered to you. And you tell me I didn’t think I could feel that gutted by someone again. I tried to shake those feelings like a cold but it didn’t work.
And now…I sit and watch you from afar as you suffer because you won’t involve me in this painful part of your life just yet. You want to figure it out alone, but you want me to be there while you do. We push and pull and every insecurity I have gets flung at you because I didn’t think it’d happen again.
I didn’t expect to be half in love with you yet, I thought I’d taught my heart to protect itself better than that.
I ask at one point what you could possibly want from me, your answer is as expected…simple and incredibly complicated as usual. You.
I’m so wrung out and feel like I’m floating alone and without a life jacket that this leaves me stumped. It’s so daunting at times when I feel like I’ll drown in my doubts, doubts I create because you say things that scream otherwise. But you have so much to deal with, how could you possibly fit me in? You’re barely managing it now, and yet every time I think this has to end my tears fall faster than expected because the thought of hurting you again hurts me.
I don’t want to let you go, but you breach every wall I put up without me noticing and I don’t know if my heart can take it if I surrender. And that’s the part I have shake my head at, because I think the universe is saying this was never really up to us to begin with.
…you are the only good thing beside family that I have right now. My feelings for you haven’t changed one bit
I don’t need to think about wanting you around
You’re still in my mind so not much has changed
#writing#a look at you and I right now in this moment#I couldn’t let you go even if I wanted to…so I’ll ride this train until the wheels fall off#personalwithasideofohshit#lovers#so guess I have a lot to say about what we are and aren’t#doritodiaries#Nicholas a browne#fading-into-you
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Hello Cherry I have a request! Eren always teasing and being a little mean to the reader so she decides to give him a taste of his own medicine (so sorta like a sub! eren x brat tamer! reader) okay that is all ilysm bye bye
hi Kat!! you send me the best prompts 🤤 I hope you enjoy thank you for requesting ily!!!
too much
pairing: sub/brat!Eren x brat tamer!fem bodied reader
content: Eren’s an asshole, established relationship, ruined orgasms, oral (f and m receiving), humiliation/degradation kink, minors DNI.
wc: 3.5k
notes: this is unedited I literally just wrote this up as fast as I could bc this ask drove me WILD
Your fists were clenched at your sides, fingernails digging crescents on the inside of your palms, knuckles white. You were stomping through your shared living room with your boyfriend, curses and swears leaving your lips. Eren had managed to piss you completely off, feelings of humiliation and frustration fueling the fire coursing through your veins.
It all started earlier this morning, waking up next to your sleepy boyfriend, kissing his cheek sweetly. Your half naked bodies wrapped together in a cocoon of blankets, hair messy and eyelids heavy. Usually, Eren would stir awake and return your kisses with enthusiasm, but he had cracked a single eye open this morning, frowned and grumbled, and pushed you off of him. You had pouted, feeling rejected, and immediately flung yourself out of the bed to get ready for the day. When Eren had finally woken up, joining you in your shared bathroom as you brushed your teeth, he made no effort to console you. He saw the wrinkles on your forehead as your eyebrows furrowed together, a tell all sign for what you were feeling. He simply brushed past you, grabbing his own toothbrush and standing right beside you as if he hadn’t been so recklessly ignorant of you.
When the two of you had spit and gargled mouthwash, he cleared his throat, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips, “What’s your deal?”
Your eyes flickered to him for a brief second, and you rolled your eyes and stomped off back to your bedroom to get dressed. Fuck him, if he wanted to start the day off so sour, he was going to get the same attitude back.
Eren followed behind you, smirk still growing, “You’re mad I pushed you away this morning, aren’t you?”
“So you did it on purpose?” you couldn’t hide the hurt in your voice, back facing him as you searched through your closet. You really had intended to ignore Eren for a while, letting him stew in your cold shoulder treatment, but he always knew how to crawl under your skin and get a rise out of you.
“Just wanted to see how you’d react,” he teased, coming directly behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder, arms crossed on his bare chest. “I was right.”
Fury licked flames up your throat and you stepped forward, throwing your boyfriend off balance. You didn’t want to play whatever game he was trying to set up, you had things to do today besides bend to Eren’s will. Hearing his response, it drove motivation into the pits of your mind that Eren was not going to get a reaction out of you anymore today.
However, he had other plans.
Today has been your day off from work and school, as well as Eren’s day off. The plan was to straighten up the house, invite your friends over in the evening and order pizza. Nothing too crazy or over the top, just a nice relaxing day.
Things didn’t quite work out that way. After the two of you had gotten dressed and made breakfast, every single time you tried to clean an object, Eren would somehow get in the way. He pulled books of the bookcase and left them on the floor or any surface he could find, managed somehow to fill the sink with dirty dishes, not rinsing them off to put in the dishwasher, and found every article of clothing between the two of you to toss on the bedroom floor. The hour long cleaning session had turned into the entire day, long enough that you had to text your friends that tonight wasn’t going to work out.
Because every time you made progress in your small home, Eren would find another thing that got added to the list. As much as it infuriated you, mostly because Eren was supposed to be helping you, you couldn’t let it phase you. No, you knew he was trying to piss you off. You weren’t going to crack under his pressure, not give him the satisfaction of seeing you wound up and upset.
The last straw had snapped when he walked into the living room, seeing you pick up the last book he had thrown on the floor, and opened his stupid mouth.
“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning?” Eren spat. “This house is a complete disaster.”
Your eyes flickered incredulously to the wall clock, six o’clock it had read, your entire day wasted away, “Are you fucking serious right now?”
You searched for a hint of playfulness in his expression, seeing nothing but his stone cold eyes piercing into you as he spoke without hesitation, “I’m entirely fucking serious. How are we supposed to have company over if you can’t clean a fucking house?”
“Already cancelled,” you fumed, standing up from your crouched position, leaving the book on the floor. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?”
“You. What? Do you need me to use your name at every sentence whenever I talk to you?” Eren kept edging, a feel of gratification consuming him upon learning his friends weren’t coming over anymore. “How am I supposed to marry someone who can’t fucking clean?”
You felt sharp pangs of hurt in your chest, eyes losing their spark, “Eren, that’s mean. Why are you being so mean today?”
He had only smirked, reveling in your mood switch. In the silence shared then, he announced he was getting a bath, he had such a hard working day and wanted to relax. He had left you in the living room alone, and you felt the anger inside of you bubble up, threatening to go over. You snapped, heading straight to the bathroom where you could hear the flow of water into the tub stop.
The door slammed against the wall as you threw it opened, seeing Eren jump slightly at the impact. His hair flowed down to his shoulders, arms stretched out against the rim of the tub, and in any other situation you’d be crawling into the water with him. He’d be so sweet about it too, bringing you to his chest and giving you kisses while you giggled at the attention. Hell, he’d probably even shower you in compliments and appreciation. Not today though, his eyes hardened as you stopped right in front of him.
“Out, now,” you ordered through clenched teeth. You could hear Eren’s breath kick up, but he didn’t move. “Are you deaf? Get out, now, Eren.”
His body moved before his mouth could protest, standing stark naked in the shin deep water. You could see the steam rise off of his skin, your eyes trailed downwards. Although soft, his dick was still impressive, but the longer you stared at the fleshy member, it twitched and rose a bit. You quirked an eyebrow, realization dawning on you. Oh, so this was why Eren was acting like this today?
You made eye contact with him then, his legs shifting over the rim of the tub, before standing directly in front of you. Your hand whipped up to the back of Eren’s head, fisting his hair, and yanking his head back, exposing every line and vein and bulge in his throat.
“This what you wanted? Wanted to get me all angry so I could take it out on you?” Eren’s dick was rock solid, giving you a physical answer, but you still needed the verbal one, “Answer me.”
“Yes,” he choked out, and his Adam’s apple bobbed along his throat.
“Well it fucking worked. I have half a mind to leave you here, like this, to take care of yourself,” you pulled his hair further, a gasp leaving his parted lips.
“No, please, don’t,” Eren’s voice came out whiny as he begged. You smirked, although he wasn’t able to see it as his eyes faced directly up to the ceiling.
“You’re going to drain this tub,” you began to instruct, tilting his head so his eyes trailed to your hard set ones. “And then you’re going to dry off, and go lay flat on your back on the bed. Do you understand me?”
He nodded feverently, happy you released your grip as his neck had begun to ache. You smoothed that same hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble underneath your fingertips, “Good boy.”
Eren set to work quickly, giddy with excitement. This had been his plan all along, to get you riled up enough to take it out on him. Genuinely, Eren hadn’t meant to start this at all today. When you had kissed him awake, he was having a really good dream he didn’t want to wake up from quite then, and hadn’t meant to push you away. Upon seeing your sad pout, followed by a flicker of anger in your orbs, something stirred within Eren. He began to question, just how far could he push you until you caved in?
Eren didn’t stick around to watch the tub fully drain, he was dried off and on the bed just as you had requested. You leaned against the wall, clad only in your bra and panties, and you watched him with hungry eyes as he followed your every instruction. Your boyfriend was a beautiful man, every part of him intriguing and gorgeous to you. He looked like a Greek God, arms and legs spread out, the subtle light from your bedside lamps casting shadows across his abs and into the V of his pelvis. Eren had a beautiful cock as well, thick and long and veiny, it sat perched on his lower abdomen, twitching as you pushed yourself off the wall to loom over your man.
“Look at you,” you mused, letting a dark chuckle vibrate from your chest. “You’re already hard and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you baby?”
“Yes,” he answered. The skin on his cock was so taut and tight, feeling somewhat light headed as all the blood was rushed to his member.
“You know I’m going to have to punish you, right? For being so mean to me today?” you batted your eyelashes, crawling on to the bed, sitting on your knees by his side, refusing to touch him just yet.
“I know,” Eren whined, trying to reach out to touch your thigh only to be met with the harsh slap of your palm. “I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not,” you cooed in false security, brushing Eren’s hair out of his beautiful face. “But that’s okay, you’re gonna’ make it up to me, right now.”
You traced the outline of Eren’s plump lips, resting your forehead against his as you muttered in your darkest voice, “I’m taking away your right to touch me. Convince me you’re sorry, and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
Eren squirmed under the heat of your words, eyes darting across your face for a hint of a lie, of hesitation. He found nothing, only the glimmer of lust in your eyes as you gazed down at him. Your fingers pushed past his soft lips, and he needed no instruction to latch on and suck. If this was the only touch he would get of you, your fingers pumping into his mouth, scissoring his tongue, he’d take it all so greedily to make you regret putting these rules in place. He never broke eye contact, curling and circling his tongue between your pointer and middle fingers, imagining they were the divine petals between your thighs. You were doing the same, feeling the gush of arousal slicken you. You tapped his tongue, signaling a release. He parted his now swollen lips easily, eyes pleading.
“Can I kiss you at least?” Eren rasped, his hands twitching at his sides.
“No,” you placed a contrasting sweet kiss to his forehead in your dark tone. “That would be touching, sweetheart.”
Eren held back a whine, knowing it was futile. He was simply going to have to lay there, and take whatever punishment he had coming, unable to escape it or bring you pleasure amongst it all. If there was a glimmer of hope, it was crushed as he felt your face travel down to his neck. You were in complete control, just as Eren had wanted.
You sucked and licked at his throat, your dry hand coming up to squeeze what skin you weren’t kissing. You trailed your lips down, kissing his entire torso. As much as you wanted to spend the time working Eren up, you had ideas swirling in your head. Eren had no patience with you today, so you weren’t going to have patience with him. Besides, it was sort of cruel to not pay immediate attention to his swollen cock.
Your hand slicked in his saliva wrapped around the base of his length, a sharp intake of breath heard from Eren’s lips. It came out shaky as you began to pump, his precum oozing from his tip and meeting the warm wetness of your fingers. You twisted your hand up and down, beginning to feel the moisture rub away, his spit drying. This was no good, and you continued to kiss down his stomach until your lips met the head of his reddened cock. He hissed as you spat on it, hand spreading it all over. Your tongue slipped past your lips, kitten licking at his tip. Eren couldn’t think straight, and he settled his hands above him to try and keep his grip as far away from you as he could.
It was nearly impossible to not grab your hair and slam you down as your sweet lips parted and you began to suck his fat tip. Eren succeeded though, knuckles white gripping pillows, and he heaved out a groan. You swiped your tongue along his slit, tastebuds soaking up his salty precum. You prodded in just a little bit, sending a shiver up Eren’s spine. Your hand still doing most of the work, you thought you’d up the game by throwing your other hand in the mix. Eren let out a high pitched moan, throwing his head back at the onslaught of attention.
“It’s so fucking cruel I can’t touch you,” he whined yet again, craning his neck to meet your eyes.
You popped your mouth from his head, “I guess I’m going to be downright evil after what I’m about to do.”
Before Eren could respond, your hands moved to his thighs and his cock was swallowed into the back of your throat. He couldn’t stop the noises he was making as you bobbed your head unbelievably fast, sucking him more and more until your nose buried into the neatly kept curls above his shaft. You were trying your hardest not to gag, your throat entirely full, and Eren was trying his hardest not to cum on impact. You pulled back a bit, tears blinked back from your eyes, and returned a single hand to work what you couldn’t reach.
Eren’s thighs tightened, his breathing hitching, “Fuck, I’m getting so close.”
At this reveal, your pace only quickened, full intentions of bringing him to his utmost height. Your cheeks sucked harder, tongue lapping the underside of his length, and you were covered in your own spit. Sloppy and messy, just how Eren liked it. How you seemed to like it, as well.
“Right there, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Eren called out alongside your name, hips bucking into your mouth. Your other hand met the swell of his balls, feeling them tighten up as his release was right there. As Eren let out the first whine to signal his climax, you yanked your hands away and slipped your mouth off with a pop.
He spasmed, too far gone to stop. His dick stood tall, shooting his load onto his stomach, throbbing so hard and so uncomfortably that tears rolled down Eren’s cheeks. You had ruined his orgasm. His cock was leaking clear fluid, his body frustrated with the lack of contact, entirely unsatisfied. His jaw slacked open, eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at you in disbelief.
“That’s what you get for trying to piss me off all day,” you growled, wiping the spit from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Stay right there, Eren.”
You got off the bed, reaching into your bedside table to pull out two objects — a tiny vibrator and a suit tie. You yanked Eren’s hands up, tying them to your headboard. You undressed yourself quickly, revealing your naked body to Eren’s greedy eyes. His dick hadn’t softened, still painfully erect and needy as he subconsciously bucked into the air. You didn’t comment, knowing how bad Eren wanted you and your attention back to his pulsating member. You threw your thighs around his neck, straddling the lower half of his face.
“You want me to touch you?” Eren nodded, tears still pooling in the corners of his eyes. “Make me cum, and I’ll return the favor.”
Easy enough, Eren thought, lolling his tongue out for you to place your glistening folds on. You sat down fully, letting out a moan as your hips circled his mouth, your hands latched into his hair. Eren heard the soft click of the vibrator in your hands, and moved his south south, knowing exactly what it was you were searching for.
You gasped as his tongue penetrated your tight hole, walls fluttering around his wet muscle as you slid the vibrator right up to your clit. If Eren had only had his hands, you wouldn’t need that little toy to satisfy you. He’d be doing all the work, bringing you all your pleasure up to your climax. All Eren’s work, but you didn’t want him to have that satisfaction.
Because this was you, and you were in full control, there was absolutely no point in teasing yourself. You were rewarding yourself, Eren just happened to be a part of the ride, literally. You thought of all the mean words he had said to you today, all the teases and inconveniences. Your hand in his hard gripped harder, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood as you tried to level your moans.
“You pissed me off so fucking bad today,” your head was thrown back as Eren fucked you with his tongue, your hips pressing down harder. “You were so mean. Now look at you, pathetic. Letting me fuck your face like the little brat you are.”
Eren felt his cock twitch, feeling similar waves of humiliation you had felt today. He knew better than to speak, instead, thrusting his tongue even harder into your entrance to show his response. You were right, he had wanted to feel completely powerless under your wrath, wanted you to use him as if he was disposable, to punish him. When he felt your hand leave his hair, feeling the harsh sting of a slap on his chest behind your ass, he was grateful. This is all he wanted, tears brought to his eyes in pure joy.
Your nails dug into his peck, your orgasm fast approaching, “Oh my God, you’re such a good boy, keep going. Oh fuck, Eren I’m about to cum.”
Eren felt pure pride and love swell in his body, ruined by a cold chill of blinding pleasure. No, no, he was not going to cum with no contact, surely? His scrotum tightened, eyes slamming shut. You were going to be livid when you saw the mess he was creating.
Eren’s cock shot thick white ropes into your back, yes, from that far away. It was just all too much, the degradation, it was like your words had been stroking him up the entire time. His body vibrated, but he forced his eyes to open to watch you fall apart above him.
Your wrist flicked fast with the vibrator in hand, feeling your walls clench and tip over the edge. You screamed breathlessly, pushing your entire lower half into Eren’s mouth. Eren could feel the tingle of your toy against his nose, a small goofy smile on his lips as he thought of how funny it would be if he sneezed. You pulled it away quickly though, mind coming back together as you began to worry about how hard you had pushed into his face. Your orgasm slowed, walls contracting at a much lazier pace, and you lifted your hips.
“Good boy,” you praised, eyes full of love as you reached up to untie his hands. “You did such a good job, baby.”
You hadn’t noticed what Eren had done until you felt a cold brush against your lower back and ass. You hand circled around, feeling the wet sticky spots, and your jaw dropped.
“Eren, did you cum from just eating me out?”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he was pleading, shying away from your widened eyes. “Was too much.”
Eren thought you would’ve been furious, instead, a soft laugh echoed in your chest. You moved off of him, laying on your stomach to place a sweet kiss to his lips. He eagerly returned it, happiness tickling throughout his entire body. When you pulled away, you rested your head on his shoulder while his arms circled your waist.
“That’s the hottest thing ever,” you admitted, curling a strand of his hair in your finger.
“I’m going to piss you off more often,” Eren joked lightly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I like this side of you.”
“Please, Eren, don’t. Next time you want me to top, just fucking ask me.”
LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.
#eren x reader#sub eren#attack on titan fanfiction#eren fanfiction#eren x you#eren jaeger#eren yeager#shingeki no kyojin eren#aot smut#aot x reader#tw: degradation#tw: humiliation#eren jeager x reader#eren smut
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P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.
Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.
Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)
Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)
Word Count; 7.2k
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‘Wanna know what it's like (like)
Baby, show me what it's like (like)
I don't really got no type (type)
I just wanna fuck all night’
Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.
When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.
However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.
It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.
I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.
Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.
I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.
The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.
Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.
“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.
“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.
I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.
If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.
I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.
Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.
Leaving me with Spencer.
I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.
I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.
“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.”
He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.
My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-
“____?”
“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.
“Did you hear me?”
“No, sorry.”
“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.
I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.
“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.
“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”
“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.
-----
“I cannot go back in there.”
“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.
Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.
“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.
“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”
I fake laughed, ignoring her question.
Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.
But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.
The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.
About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.
I started noticing more little things after that.
Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.
He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.
It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.
My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.
‘I just been fantasizin' (size)
And we got a lotta time (time)
Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’
Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.
“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.
“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.
“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.
“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”
“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”
No objection from Emily or JJ there.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.
“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”
“You’re both adults, ____.”
“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”
“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”
“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”
“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”
I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”
Even though I definitely wanted to.
They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.
After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.
“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.
“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”
“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”
“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.
Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.
He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.
His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.
“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.
He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.
Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.
The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?
The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.
I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.
I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.
Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.
The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.
And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.
Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.
It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.
I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.
“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”
I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.
He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,
I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.
It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.
A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.
It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.
“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.
“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.
I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.
“Do you not like it?”
“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”
“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”
“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.
People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.
I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.
They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?
It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.
I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.
When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.
It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.
“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.
“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.
Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.
“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.
“It hurts!”
“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”
I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.
“You’re going to need to hold me down.”
“What?!”
“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”
He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.
Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.
I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.
Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.
“Get on my back.”
“Are you insane?”
“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”
Right.
“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”
He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.
‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby
Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’
I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.
He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…
“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.
His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.
It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.
I was an awful person.
Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.
I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.
Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.
‘Wanna know what it's like (like)
Baby, show me what it's like (like)
I don't really got no type (type)
I just wanna fuck all night’
“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.
“____-”
“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”
I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.
Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.
“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”
The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.
“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”
“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.
I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.
“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”
“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”
Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.
I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.
I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.
However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.
“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.
“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.
“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”
“How I feel?”
“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.
“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.
“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”
“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”
She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.
“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”
“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.
“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”
“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”
“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”
“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”
I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.
But that just made it all the more exciting.
“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.
“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.
My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.
My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.
The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.
“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.
I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.
“Says who?” I panicked.
“Uhh...Hotch did.”
Great.
“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.
I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.
When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.
“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.
“I…”
“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.
He didn’t find any.
“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”
My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.
“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”
“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.
“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”
I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.
“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”
“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”
He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.
“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.
“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”
He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.
After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.
“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.
He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.
“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”
“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.
“L-lots of stuff.”
“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”
I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.
“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”
‘You're exciting, boy, come find me
Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’
“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.
He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.
He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.
‘And we got a lotta time (time)
Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’
I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.
“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.
“Do you not want me to?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.
“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.
“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.
“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”
His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”
“What?”
I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.
“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.
He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.
“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.
“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.
He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.
“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”
“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.
“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,
It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.
“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”
“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.
I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.
Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.
I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.
“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.
I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.
“Stop, stop!”
“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.
“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”
Understandable.
I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.
“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”
He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.
“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”
‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)
Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’
He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.
I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.
“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”
“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”
He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.
“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.
“Uh-huh.”
He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.
“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”
“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.
“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.
He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.
“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”
“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.
“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”
I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.
“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.
“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.
“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.
He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.
“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.
I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.
“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”
He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.
He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.
The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.
“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.
He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.
I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.
“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”
“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”
He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.
He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.
It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.
We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.
“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.
“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”
“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.
“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”
“____,” he blushed. “I-”
“No! No, let me finish. Please.”
He nodded for me to go ahead.
“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”
“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.
“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”
“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.
“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”
-----
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pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)
summary: you’re used to being in love with taehyung. you’ve had a lot of time to get good at it, after all—by this point you’re the world’s expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice you’ve had.
but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.
or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.
warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally 🤧), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex
a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly… kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gif for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?
--
Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.
He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.
You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.
Because, of course, as one of Taehyung’s best friends and his roommate, you’re inevitably swept up in everything he does. You’re used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on it—even if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.
You don’t mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you don’t have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. It’s always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Tae’s face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his features—from wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever he’s taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.
(You love watching Tae’s face all the time, actually, but that’s a whole other can of worms you’d rather keep shut.)
However, the latest course he’s signed up for is not one you’d been expecting.
“Massage therapy?” Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.
Taehyung’s dropped this latest nugget of information while you’re cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen that’s been thrust into your face. You’re not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyung’s iPhone is drifting so close that you’re almost cross-eyed and it’s blocking you from seeing what’s going on in the pan.
“I had a coupon,” he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesn’t.)
“Scooch,” you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.
“Jiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.” Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. He’s already set the table so now he’s free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. “And Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.”
You fumble with the pan as you’re scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. You’ve thought about Taehyung’s hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Really? Huh. That’s nice.” You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyung’s face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.
Jesus Christ.
“It means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.” Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isn’t going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve.
“Great.” Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. “Sounds fabulous. Can’t wait.”
Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. He’s so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable.
You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crush—you bottle that shit the fuck up until he’s not in the room.
And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.
“I am going to die,” you whisper-scream. “He’s going to offer to massage me and he’s going to get a bottle of massage oil out and he’s going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.”
The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?
That was over a year ago. (You’ve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)
“I hate my life,” you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. “I wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You don’t even know what capitalism is.”
The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.
You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only you’d kept the receipt so you could return them.)
“We learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!” Taehyung says brightly after the first session.
You hum in response. You’re rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyung’s side, and you don’t have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. There’ll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one you’ve imagined kissing more times than you can count.
“My teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,” he adds, and you’re so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene that’s playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is.
“That’s nice,” you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. “I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always been good at doing things with them.”
That’s not a euphemism. Taehyung’s always so careful when he makes things; you’d learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and he’d always been so delicate with his fingers. He’s always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.
“I wish you could come too.” Taehyung sounds disappointed. “We always have so much fun together.”
For the first time in your life you’re grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and won’t let you swap shifts, so you’d had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyung—because you know there’s no way you’d be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and you’re well aware of that. You’d rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyung’s shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and you’d immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church.
Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?
Why oh why did God have to make you so… not?
You know Taehyung doesn’t see you in a romantic light at all. You’re grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that it’s never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, it’s in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friends—and as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside.
(Because you know you don’t have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)
The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, it’s because you’re a convenient practice partner who he’s comfortable with. It’s no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say ‘Have at me, big boy’ and Taehyung would say: ‘Sweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!’
The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever he’s talking about.
… Anyway.
You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though you’re kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, he’s one of your best friends and you love him.
Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else you’d just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.
“It’s fine,” you say, flapping a hand at him. “I just slept on it funny.”
“A massage would help! It won’t take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?”
Taehyung’s looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. You’re torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation you’ve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and you’d said yes, but then you’d fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and you’d spilled it all down your shirt and he’d pointed and laughed and laughed and you’d felt so embarrassed that you’d woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.
“Five minutes,” you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.
(You have the backbone of a chocolate éclair.)
You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesn’t ask you to take your top off and doesn’t break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.
“Just relax,” he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic that’s circled around you. “Lean forwards a little?”
At least Taehyung can’t see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.
“Perfect,” Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.
The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.
“This is the opposite of relaxing,” he says, voice warm with amusement.
“You surprised me.” You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. He’s just never done it like this. “Sorry.”
“It's fine,” he replies, unruffled and oblivious. “Let me try again?”
You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension that’s churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. You’ve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) “Um. Okay.”
You’re still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.
You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. “Your teacher wasn’t kidding when they said that you’re good with your hands,” you mumble.
You’ve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you can’t help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyung’s fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part that’s been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. “Oh, right there, Tae.”
Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. “Here?”
Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. “Yeah, right there,” you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyung’s hands; if you weren’t so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you don’t even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyung’s fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that he’s stopped even for a second.
By the time the massage is over, you’re so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. It’s official. You’re a massage convert.
“Holy shit.” Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. They’re the first coherent words you’ve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and it’s only now that you’re able to regain your breath. “Tae, that was amazin—”
You’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s stepping into the bathroom.
“I need to wash my hands,” he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.
You don’t remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes sense—you know, with massaging multiple clients or whatever—even if it’s surprising exactly how fast he’d hoofed it away from you. It sounds like he’s switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long he’s in there, he’s being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than you’d realised.
Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.
“How’s your shoulder feeling?”
“So much better, honestly,” you admit. It’s incredible. He hasn’t even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.
“I’ll have to give you massages more often,” Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.
The thought of more massages doesn’t fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyung’s even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if you’d been staring at Taehyung in the eye when he’d been touching you, then you’d feel a lot more awkward—as it is, it’s no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.
“Sounds great.” This time you don’t even have to fake your excitement. “Now come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.”
When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. “There’s still a high chance that I’m going to die,” you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. “But he hasn’t broken out the oils yet, so I think I’ll be okay for now.”
--
Your luck doesn’t last.
“Strawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?”
You look up from where you’re painting your toenails. “Huh?”
Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why you’d swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.
“What do you think sounds best?”
“Well, that depends,” you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. “For candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, I’d say I’d give them all a hard pass. What’s it for?”
“Massage oils,” Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. “I was wondering which you think sounds best.”
“Oh. Uh.” You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure you’re trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course he’s going to invest in oils, too. God’s sake. You can never catch a break, can you? “Why these ones in particular?”
Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while he’s distracted. “We get a free bottle from the course,” he says eventually.
Huh. Okay. “That’s pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, can’t go wrong with that, right?”
“Coconut is always tasty,” Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.
“Agreed, but it’s not like you’re about to eat massage oil, are you?”
Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screen—suddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. “No, of course not, you’re right,” he mumbles.
He’s almost finished the course. He’s not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted to—you’ve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now you’re used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt.
“It’s pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.” Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. “And not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didn’t realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?”
Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but you’re too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when you’re done.
“Get me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?” You have a sudden craving but you don’t want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. “Ya girl is hungry.”
“Got it.” Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. You’re used to his antics, and he’s used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. “You need me to feed you?”
“I wasn’t going to use my toes to feed myself,” you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.
When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way that’s equal parts offended and disgusted. “They all sound terrible,” he says. “White chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?”
You’re both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but it’s a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts.
“Hey, don’t ask me, I’m not the one who’s taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.”
“Agree to disagree.” Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. “Besides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and you’d let him dip you in it.”
You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. He’s unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.
“Yoongichi,” Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, who’s just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. “Tell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil you’d prefer, what—”
“I would say that I really could not care less.” Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjin’s stash. “And then I’d ask why you’re asking me in the first place, seeing as you’re the one using it, not me. If Taehyung’s asking what massage oil you’d prefer, Y/n, it’s because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.” Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. “Please, we’ve been over this.”
Jin pouts. “You ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.”
“Oh no.” Yoongi remains blank-faced. “How terrible.”
“I hate both of you,” you say. “I’m going to tell Pickles how mean you are.”
“I bet if that lizard could talk, he’d tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,” Yoongi says.
There’s no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyung’s end anyway. You’re out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.
You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.
The massage oil doesn’t make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.
The scent of ‘tropical coconut’ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way that’s both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, it’s not because you’re having nightmares, let’s just put it like that. It’s like there’s an invisible countdown that you can’t trace and it’s only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that you’ve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyung’s going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and you’re going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.
Well… then again… you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyung’s hands gliding over you whenever you’re alone, but you’re basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.
You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.
Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.
He falls into your arms with little fanfare. It’s been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyung—he’s usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people don’t seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.
“You alright, bubs?” You can’t massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyung’s, a hollow that’s perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. “Did something happen?”
He just shakes his head.
“Okay,” you say.
(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesn’t always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes it’s just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)
The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.
“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.
“Nothing to thank me for, Tae,” you reply. “Always here for you. You know that, right?”
He doesn’t respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. “Why?”
Your face twists. “Why, what? Why am I always here for you?”
“Yeah.” Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You can’t see his expression from this angle.
“Because you’re one of my best friends and I love you,” you answer, immediately. You don’t even have to think about it. “Because you’re important to me and if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. I’ll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and I’ll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please don’t ever forget how much I love you, okay?”
There’s a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyung’s body, slumping his whole body weight against you. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I love you too. Thank you,” he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.
He’s a little quieter for a few days after that. You’re not sure why, because he’d perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfish—but you’re gentle with him nonetheless.
(Well. You’re always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)
So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, you’re far less ready to fight off Taehyung’s insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck.
“You’ve had a long week!” Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofa’s backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. “You need to relax!”
Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, you’ve missed. “I was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?”
Taehyung doesn’t respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?
You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, who’s got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but there’s something else there, too, something you can’t put a name to.
“Taehyung?”
“I just… wanted to help,” he says. “You’re always there for me when I’m not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.”
You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animal’s tail, multiply it by infinity, and that’s only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that you’re drowning in.
“Oh, Tae,” you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. It’s really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.” (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)
His face lifts. It’s like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). “So I can give you a massage?”
Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when you’re faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when you’d first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, you’d been told you’d end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like you’d be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.
But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.
The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. You’re incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel that’s draped over your hips and ass, making sure it’s covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if you’re not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that it’s normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.
Authenticity is also why he’s in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because that’s apparently a thing?
(You’re going to die.)
It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres.
And yet you can’t help but be hyperaware of how you’re entirely unclothed. Even if it doesn’t bother Taehyung—what with, you know, the fact he’s not interested in you like that and doesn’t find you attractive at all (sigh)—embarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.
It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body.
(Then again, most people aren’t best friends with their masseuses and haven’t harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)
Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyung’s been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage.
… A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyung’s hands sliding all over you.
… You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.
You’re so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you don’t register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. It’s only when he’s kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.
“Jesus, Tae,” you say. In any other circumstance, you’d be clutching your chest. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic.
Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; he’s settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.
In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, you’ve never been able to see Taehyung’s face as he’s been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.
(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)
“That’s alright.” You’re a little breathless, but you’re going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. It’s a shoulder massage. It’s just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then you’ll actually start to believe it.) “Uh. Do you need me to… do anything? Or do I just lie here?”
Taehyung’s expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You’re perfect right where you are,” he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.
You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. There’s no way you’ll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. “Cool,” you say, voice only a little strained. “Coolcoolcoolcool.”
(It’s not cool.)
You don’t have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Tae’s hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and you’re so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.
At first, it’s okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though it’s different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. It’s different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.
But. The second you feel Taehyung’s touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but you’ve always had a sensitive back; you can’t help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe.
“You’ve got a lot of tension here.” Taehyung’s voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.
It’s because you’re touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead.
You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.
Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.
“Better?”
Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe that’s because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so it’s hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, that’s for sure.
“Yep.” Why are you so breathless? You haven’t moved at all, but you sound like you’ve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. “So much better.”
You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming.
Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. It’s both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you’re saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all you’re aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. You’d swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.
(Massages are meant to relax you and yet you’ve never felt so tense in your life.)
Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I can’t get a good angle like this,” he mutters.
Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting and—
Your eyes fly open. Taehyung’s straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. There’s no way this is a normal masseuse thing. There’s no way. It’s intimate and entirely too physical and there’s absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class.
(What is he doing?)
But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.
They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you can’t help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. There’s the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.
“Taehyung.” Your voice is high and faint.
His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and you’re dying, you’re living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end.
“Taehyung,” you repeat. Your voice shakes.
He hums, low and indulgent. “Yes?”
“M-my thighs,” you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, you’re so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.
Taehyung completely misunderstands you. “Oh? Of course.” He sounds nonchalant. “I’ll massage those next.”
You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too much—
Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.
“Fuck.” You can't keep quiet any longer. “Tae, I’m fine, I’m feeling way less tense now.”
He’s still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. “Are you sure? You want me to stop?”
It’s only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; you’re so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that there’s nothing protecting you from Taehyung’s touch and eyes.
“I haven’t finished yet, though,” he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions he’s been taught. “There’s still more to go.”
You could twist around to look at him but you’re almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what you’d find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but there’s absolutely no way. There’s no way.
“You don’t need to do the whole massage if I’m feeling relaxed, right?”
(Because you’re feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like you’re about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)
(But.)
(But. Taehyung’s hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You can’t see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like it’s sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker of—of—)
“Want to do this perfectly for you,” he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. “You deserve the best. I want you to feel good.”
He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.
“Taehyung.” Almost pleading.
“Yes, love?”
You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One that’s definitely there. You’re not imagining it.
(You’re not.)
“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he continues.
Before you can think, you nod.
“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”
You’re trembling. Taehyung’s still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, oh—
His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. It’s hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didn’t realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyung’s fingers stifled by how you’re lying flush to the ground, but God, you’re so turned on it barely matters.
You’re hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyung’s hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing.
“Again,” you plead. “Again, Tae, please.”
“Feels good?” He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.
“So good,” you say. “But I want more, please, Tae.”
“Anything you want,” he murmurs.
Taehyung’s hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.
Just as you’re distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.
You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves aren’t trapped, there’s nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and you’re gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyung’s voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.
“Just like that, angel,” he breathes. “Want you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it is—”
“Taehyung,” you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.
“Baby.” He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You’re so hot n’ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.”
You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. He’s already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; they’re so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and you’re heady at the thought.
“There, Tae, don’t stop, please, p-please.” The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread that’s ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion that’s pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way you’re writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. “Tae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yes—”
Your entire body goes tense and then you’re cumming around Taehyung’s fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.
You’re panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harder—and it feels sososo good.
Taehyung’s face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.
“So cute n' pretty,” he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. “All over. God, I can’t believe you’d let me touch you like this. I’m so lucky. Was that good, baby?”
“Yes,” you say, and then, because you’re still floating in a light haze of disbelief: “I’m the lucky one.”
Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. It’s a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, they’re even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because you’re kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something you’ve been dreaming about for so long, now—even if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.
When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. He’s warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyung’s body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.
“Can I finish the massage?” He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You can’t help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.
“Of course,” you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good.
“You need to be on your back,” Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. “If you want to?”
Of course you want to.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Let me move.”
He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that he’d rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.
“So good to me,” he whispers. You don’t think he even means for you to hear it.
(It’s said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought that’s slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like you’re always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and he’s almost in disbelief about it, because you’re so good to him.)
You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. There’s no going back now. There’s no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any more—the soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyung’s eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.
(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)
You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close he’d been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.
“Look at you,” Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. “You’re so perfect.”
Your cheeks burn. “Taehyung, please,” you say, embarrassed. You really aren’t, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.
“You are,” he insists. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”
Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. And—you were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. You’re so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.
He starts at your collarbones. It’s even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.
“Tae,” you whine. “You can’t just do that.”
Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. “I can,” he says, words warm in your cupped palm.
“I hope you didn’t do this in class.” Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be.
Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. “Only for you,” he says. “Did the whole class for you. I wanted—wanted an excuse to touch you more,” he admits, and your heart feels like it’s going to launch itself out of your throat.
“Then touch me,” you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.
And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you don’t want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling in your stomach for what’s to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards you—
—then he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.
“Oh, Tae,” you beg. “More, please.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.
“Tae,” you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyung’s dark eyes— “Baby.”
He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. “Yes, love?”
“Is it really okay for you to… you know… get that oil in your mouth? I don’t want you to get sick,” you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how he’s been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that he’s touched.
There’s a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neck—in that little hollow that’s his, in a motion he’s done dozens of times. Except this time you’re naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.
“You’re always so considerate.” His words are muffled against your skin. “It’s fine. It’s edible.”
“You got edible massage oil from your course?”
Taehyung hesitates. “No,” he admits. “I bought it. It’s edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.”
You’re silent, just for a moment, and then you can’t help it. You start to laugh.
“Kim Taehyung,” you say, body shaking with amusement. “Did you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?”
Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. You’re giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he can’t help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.
“It’s why I asked which one you liked,” he confesses, once he can catch his breath.
“I can’t believe you lied to me,” you say, but you don’t mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.
That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. “O-oh,” you gasp. “Oh, Taehyung—”
“Been thinking about this for so long.” Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. “Wanted to touch you like this so much.”
“Wanted it too,” you breathe. “Wanted—oh, God, Tae, fuck—”
It’s overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, no—but the idea that he’s been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyung’s cock twitches at a loud keen that’s drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you haven’t touched him yet.
When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.
“I want to feel you, Tae,” you say, staring at him. “Inside me. Please.”
His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent.
“The oil isn’t condom friendly,” he admits, abashed.
“Then you can cum in my mouth,” you reply. No hesitation.
Taehyung’s eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.
“You really are perfect,” he says.
“Only for you,” you reply, your smile just as bright.
He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside.
Just like his heart, Taehyung’s body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kiss—one he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil.
There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. He’s radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet it’s practically dripping.
You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.
“Want you, Tae.” You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isn’t really a secret at all, not any more. “All of you.”
“Going to give you everything you want.” The words flow out of him with ease. “Everything you want.”
His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil that’s rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, he’s almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.
“I’m goin’ to make you cum again,” he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when he’s losing himself. “Bet you’ll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.”
A shiver skates through your body. Taehyung’s fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.
“Please,” you say. “Please, wanna make you feel good too—”
“Hands and knees, angel,” he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.
Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.
Judging from the look on Taehyung’s face, it does. He looks like he’s never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.
“Fuck, so beautiful.” He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”
“Tae,” you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.
“Just one more thing, angel, I promise.”
It’s a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react there’s a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.
(You wonder what it’ll taste like when you lick it off him.)
When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyung’s touch—and when he finally sinks in, it’s almost effortless. He’s thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time he’s bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. You’re so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.
Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. He’s breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.
“How’s it feel, love?” His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. “Feel good?”
“Fuck me, Tae, baby, please,” you beg. It’s so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything you’d let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. “Please, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.”
When he pulls away it’s slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but then—
The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyung’s body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.
You can feel how you’re losing yourself to that heady place that’s golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. There’s nothing but this—Taehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high that’s growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that he’s going to throw you over again, intent on it.
One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesn’t yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed.
“Baby,” he rasps. “Oh, you’re so tight n’ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?”
Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. “So good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethere—”
“Here?”
He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, there’s nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and that’s it, you’re gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyung’s cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.
(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)
He’s been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what it’s like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot n’ wet n’ tight, fuck, love, oh.
You’re still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyung’s hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.
“Oh, God,” you say. Breathless. “Oh, Taehyung, oh.”
“Pretty darling,” he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. “Gonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.”
And when you’re on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. You’ve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like this—it’s a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.
And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesn’t leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongue—his eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you.
Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach it’s kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.
“I wanna see you cum, Tae,” you say. “Please?”
And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.
He’s been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much you’ve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, you’re unreal, fuck.
You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure that’s spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he’s given you.
When he pulls out, you’re too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. There’s no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit it’s all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.
“Oh, God.” Taehyung’s eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”
You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head faster—
“Oh, fuck—”
—and you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.
When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartment’s cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.
(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)
You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyung’s arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.
“‘M sorry,” he murmurs.
You pause.
“Baby, love, darling.” The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. “Sorry for what?”
“I really—I really was just planning to do a massage, but you’re so…”
You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyung’s collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. “Oh, Tae. I’m so what?”
“You’re so good,” he says. “So good and kind and lovely and—and so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then… tell you. About how happy you make me.”
You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. “I’m not as beautiful as you,” you reply. “Tae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, and—God, I’ve. I’ve been. So head over heels for you.”
There’s a pause. “Really?”
When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that he’s surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.
You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. “Kim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. You’re the first person I think about each morning—usually because we wake each other up—and the last thing I think about at night—well, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,” you say. You’re both tangled together in so many ways already. “You’ve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?”
When Taehyung kisses you, it’s brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. “You really, really have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted—I want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.”
“You don’t have to,” you protest, but he just smiles.
“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says. “Like you don’t have to look after me, but you do.”
“That’s because I love you,” you say. “Like, capital L love you.”
You’ve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: you’re not scared, any more. You don’t need to be.
Taehyung’s eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. “I love you, too.”
Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until he’s moaning and shaking and cumming again.
(The water’s cold by the time you finally climb out, but that’s okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)
When you’re both clean, and dry, Taehyung’s leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.
“Taehyung?”
“Yes, angel?”
You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. “Thank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage I’ve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.”
Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.
“Love you,” he murmurs. Always romantic. “I love you love you love you.”
“Tae-honey-hyung.” And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. “I love you.”
And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didn’t think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.
--
(“Hey, Pickles.”
The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.
“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that you won’t have to put up with me ranting at you any more,” you say. “Taehyung did break out the massage oil but it’s all good. I didn’t spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.”
Pickles’ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.
“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” you finish. “Thanks, Pickles. You’re a real pal.”
Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. He’s warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.
“I wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didn’t get that coupon for a massage therapy course,” you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.
“We would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?”
Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)
--
taglist: @beyoncesdragon
#magicshopnet#btswritingcafe#taehyung smut#taehyung oneshot#taehyung x reader#bts#bts smut#v smut#v oneshot#v x reader#taehyung#taehyung fluff#bts oneshot#kim taehyung#taehyung imagine#taehyung scenario#bts fic#bts fanfic#joy.masterlist
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RECOGNITION
series m.list
PAIRING : sukuna x fem!reader
SUMMARY : when an exchange student comes to jujutsu tech, Itadori is set on finding out why the King of curses is so interested in you.
TAGS : fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, jjk anime spoilers, some curse words, reader is described as a black female
NOTES : i’ve read a couple of works where sukuna meets his reincarnated lover so I wanted to try it out too, hope you enjoy. was supposed to make progress with my wips but I was in a sukuna mood. (◕ᴗ◕✿)
Sukuna feels your presence before he sees you. It’s one of those cliché moments where time puts its hand up to signal a standstill. Yuuji can feel it too when you pass by, your long braids swishing with each step.
He’s sure that he’s never seen you before but his shared body buzzes in remembrance. All the while, his emotions are overtaken by the unbridled feeling of wanting.
After that, Itadori never took it upon himself to ask Sukuna about the matter because the curse didn’t seem to want to.
Sukuna had become more and more suppressed, his usual pop-ups were a rare occurrence, even when Megumi was around. However, for the whole month you’d been at Jujutsu Tech, the King of curses had been intent on observing from his throne of woven carcasses, body hunched over to just watch.
You’re an exchange student, Itadori recalls Gojo’s past conversation about a new second-year that would be coming from the states. You’re strong — at first, Itadori couldn’t help but think that this revelation was the reason for Sukuna’s interest —your cursed energy being perfect sediment for close combat and dealing precise blows, all the same, Itadori could feel a grappling hook of something that seemed to be festering.
It’s dark and brooding and it stirs every time you come into contact with him. And Yuuji thinks he might go crazy because he wants to know your connection with Sukuna and it’s not like he can ask you because your aura screams — unapproachable.
His chance comes when all the first-years are assigned to a mission, you're there for extra measure. Gojo’s shaman instincts telling him that this mission was far too exceeding for him, Nobara, and Megumi.
Though just as Gojo predicted, it goes terribly wrong and Itadori keels over with an empty hollow where his heart should be.
His last thoughts are consumed with a screeching mantra of his late grandfather’s words. In the crevice of his flickering mind, they're big bold letters that drip with poisoned regret.
Before his vision goes black, the last thing he sees is a heart-broken Megumi and your face which is flooded with guilt.
When Itadori comes face to face with the King of curses, the stench of rotting death overpowering his senses, he mulls over the terms laid out by Sukuna to come back, alive.
To be reunited with his friends and become some type of savior —sukuna's words, not his— he'd give up the reigns of his body so Sukuna could talk to you whenever he chose.
For the exchange of his life, the rules weren’t bad, a part of him knows that this selfish override could cause problems for you in the future, but he still agrees.
When he wakes up to a pure white ceiling and the smell of bleach he doesn’t expect to see you towering over him. Moving up to a sitting position, his cheeks nearly bleed red because he’s naked. His eyes frantically flit over to Gojo who’s sitting in the corner of the room, watching the exchange. The white-haired sorcerer shrugs in a ridiculed manner —silently telling Itadori that it wasn’t his problem.
“You called me,” your voice filters through the bright room. His eyebrows crinkle in confusion. Sukuna must've did something.
When his eyes flit back to you, he’s met with your monotone expression, your cascade of braids framing your face. And for the third time in his life, he’s scared.
Your cursed energy, which for your level should leave little to no residual, is flaring with onyx undertones. Its sharpened jaws nearing closer and closer to Itadori in a beckoning manner. He's not sure why it's visible in the first place.
Gojo stays silent.
Brat, let me out. Sukuna, for the first time in weeks, pops up with a wide mouth on the palm of his hand. Without a second thought, Itadori allows him.
Whilst wading in his domain of subconsciousness, he watches the exchange. Your expression stays the same as you study Sukuna’s marked face.
“So hostile,” Sukuna bares, his powerful aura sifting through the room. You roll your eyes and crack a smile. Seamlessly ignoring the other man in the room— who you know Sukuna has a grudge with.
“Am I not supposed to be?” you cross your arms and ask. “Being friendly would get me in trouble.”
“You remember me?” The King of curses cuts straight to the point, the question being so unexpected that Gojo shuffles in his seat, his spine rigid with anticipation.
You nod stiffly. "I didn’t at first, not fully at least, but after coming into contact a few times, yeah.”
“It’s a shame I don’t have control over this body,” Sukuna presses a palm to your cheek, no doubt a loving caress. His deep baritone voice causing your skin to erupt into a turnpike for goosebumps to situate. “Do you remember how we parted last?”
“A sorcerer killed me or something,” you scratch the back of your neck under his intense stare. “Right through here,” you confess, pointing to the middle of your sternum.
“And you’ve become one?” Sukuna quirks an eyebrow, shoulders stiff with anger.
“I didn’t even know I knew you until a month ago, calm down,” you wave in dismissal. Itadori takes note in the way Sukuna visibly relaxes, your words washing him in a bucket of warmth. “Is that all? I’ve got a mission in thirty minutes.”
“I’m coming with you.” Sukuna jumps off the steel table, his bare feet touching the cool ground. You turn your eyes away from the bottom half of his body, ears growing hot in embarrassment.
“Eh? Is that allowed?” You turn to Gojo who’s still analyzing the situation beforehand and he shrugs with complacency. “Don’t let anyone see him,” Gojo warns, his stare serious even under his blindfold. You're not exactly sure what Gojo's thinking but you grasp the opportunity.
When you leave the autopsy room with a naked Sukuna by your side, careful to avoid any areas where Sukuna’s aura might be felt, you make it to Itadori’s dorm.
“Here.” You throw him Yuuji’s formal uniform and a pair of brown boots you find in the corner of his room. “I’m not wearing this,” Sukuna interjects.
“Huh?” Your upper lip curls up in confusion. “Then you’re not coming with me.” You turn to leave but he catches your arm in a tight grip.
“Fine, since you’re so damn adamant.” He releases his grip on your arm to slip into Yuuji’s clothes, when he finishes he turns to you with a glare.
“Good boy,” you praise, patting his tattooed cheek.
Internally, Itadori’s too bewildered to tease the curse. In all of his time spent with Sukuna in his body, he’s never seen the King of curses voluntarily listen to somebody else’s demands. The murky water he stands in ripples as he sits to observe everything that’s transpiring.
When you both reach the site you were assigned to, you sigh in annoyance. “What is it?” Sukuna asks, hands in pockets as he studies your face.
“I was hoping to have an easy day, they’re not dangerous or anything but there’s more than a dozen in there.” You point to the abandoned building, its steel beams bending with age.
“I’ll exorcise them for you.”
This is going completely against this guy’s morals, Yuuji thinks.
Your eyebrows fly to your forehead as you grow giddy with happiness. “Really?” You exclaim clambering up to wrap him in a hug.
“If you don’t let go, I won’t.” He grumbles, head in your neck while inhaling your sweet scent.
“Okayyy,” you inhale, trailing off, Sukuna not too far behind.
The exorcism is completed in fifteen seconds, tops. You stare in amazement at his lithe movements. His sharp fingers extinguishing cores with precise stabs— the same way he did his vessel. When he’s done he turns to you with an eyebrow raised, his hands wet with unspoken substance. You turn away with a humph.
“Was it not fast enough?” He walks towards you, concern written all over his expression.
“It was too fast,” you proclaim.
“Huh?”
“You’re a show-off,” you turn to exit the building, your braids whizzing past his face. You hear his roaring laughter behind you as you make it outside.
The smell of freshly churned earth enters your nostrils as you walk down a fenced sidewalk with bent daffodils. “Where are we going?”
“A ramen shop.” His gaze flicks over to study your face which is softened with what seems to be tranquility. His heart tides over with pride once he realizes that you feel content with him, a 1000-year-old curse.
However, he knows it’s the result of your memories that tie in with his; shared massacres and intertwined fates. Multiple restarts of what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of mingled hearts. But this time jump was different than the others.
You being a sorcerer is not the only obstacle, at all.
“Sukuna? Hey– you’re spacing out.” You wave a hand in front of his face to grab his attention.
“We’re here.” He looks up to see a small ramen shop, its logo old with age. As he enters the shop, he somehow finds contentment in being in a place that you like.
—
“You know you’re probably attracting sorcerers and curses alike as we speak?” You inquire, grabbing your ramen bowl from the waiter who nervously glances at Sukuna. His tattooed face also attracting unwanted attention.
“Mhm, I’ll just kill them if they interfere.” You whip your head to turn to the waiter who you’re relieved to see, had already left.
“I knew you’d say that,” you stuff your face with a handful of steaming noodles.
“Sukuna?”
“Mhm?”
“What’s gonna happen between us?” You flick your index finger back and forth. “It’s not like the other times, I’m a dedicated sorcerer.”
“So?”
“You’re the King of curses, I’m a sorcerer.” You repeat, dropping your wooden chopsticks to place your head on your propped fist.
“Already made a deal with the brat, I can talk to you whenever and wherever I want,” he pulls his face closer to yours.
“Yeah? What happens when they execute Itadori?” You curl your hands into balled fists, an unfamiliar emotion welling up in your throat. Somehow, it doesn't fit. It crosses your veins in a parasitic manner and your eyes glaze over.
“I’ll just come back.” He states matter of factly, voice coated with arrogance.
“You promise?” You whisper, holding out your pinky finger. You nearly scoff at your own action.
Ignoring the finger you bare out, he presses his lips against yours. It’s the same as he can remember, centuries ago. His body elates with a hum of electricity. And it's as if his body's creating a second space of void in which he feels his every sense being sharpened; the smooth curve of your full lips and the salty taste of previous ramen.
But before the kiss can go any further, you're pulling back.
“That was uh…” You blink once, twice, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. When you look back to Sukuna, you instead are met with Itadori’s clear face.
“The hell are you doing, brat?” Sukuna bares his teeth on the right side of Itadori’s cheek. ”I- I’m sorry just got a little uh.. flustered.”
“The fuck are you getting flustered for?” Sukuna growls.
“I- uh..”
“It’s okay Yuuji, you can switch again another time,” you sympathize with the boy. His cheeks are coated in red.
“It’s getting late, eat some ramen so we can go.” You chuckle. Itadori nods as his hand reaches towards a pair of chopsticks.
“Touch my ramen and I’ll kill you again, you damn brat.”
back to m.list
#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x poc reader#sukuna x black reader#jjk x reader#jjk x poc reader#jjk x poc!reader#jjk x black reader#jjk x you#itadori x reader#itadori x poc reader#itadori x black reader#anime x black!reader
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bfb.
Summary: You grew up with Dream and Drista your whole life, but as you got older you soon realized your feelings towards Dream. (You are 19 in this and the reader is female for the plot)
MINORS DNI
Warnings: oral fixation, dumbification, choking
Word Count: 2234
Sighing, Y/N looked at Drista then towards her tv, “Hey Drista?” Y/N asked, gaining Drista’s attention.”Yeah Y/N?” She asked, looking over at her best friend, “Does it bother you that your best friend is like 6 years older than you?” They asked, and Drista frowned once she heard the words. “No I like it a lot, I grew up with you and saw you as an older sister to me. You are always there for me, and you can even pick me up early from school so that’s a bonus.” Drista laughed as the last part left her mouth, which caused Y/N to softly punch her arm. “Can I ask you something and you not laugh at me?” Y/N asked, and Drista made a noise, shifting around so that they could face one another.
Y/N took in a deep breath, and looked at the younger girl, “I've known you and Dream all my life, but around the age of 17 I started to realize my feelings for Dream were a bit different.” She explained, stumbling over her words a bit scared of how Drista would react. “I know, I can tell by the way you look at him.” Drista explained, which made Y/N relax a bit, “Is it that obvious?” She asked worriedly, and Drista shrugged, “Maybe to me, but boys tend to be oblivious.” Once the words left her mouth, Drista gasped, “This is like that episode of Victorious!” She said excitedly, and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows throwing her a confused look. “You know the song BFB?”
Y/N slowly nodded her head, and Drista groaned, “You’re about as dumb as a pig.” She complained, “BFB means best friends brother.” She said, making exaggerated hand movements. “Oh yeah.” Y/N laughed, and softly pushed Drista, “I swear you are a nerd.” She said, causing the younger to giggle. Shaking her head, she got up, “You have school tomorrow, so you need to sleep. It’s two hours past your bedtime. Your mom would kill me for letting you stay awake this late.” Y/N said, and Drista pouted, “Fine.” She said giving up, “I’m going to go take a shower, and I’ll be back. I will try not to wake you if you are asleep by the time I get back.”
Nodding her head, Drista switched the movie over to Princess and the Frog, turning her lamp off on her bedside table. Y/N walked over and grabbed a pair of clothes from her closet as she practically lived there. Walking out, she mumbled a ‘goodnight’ to Drista as she turned around she slowly made her way to the bathroom. Putting her clothes in the bathroom, she walked downstairs into the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Thirsty?” A voice spoke up making Y/N yelp and jump. “Holy shit Dream. You scared me you dick head.” She mumbled shoving him, as he was leaning against the counter. “Why were you even standing in the dark you weirdo.” Y/N said, getting a glass cup, getting some water.
Dream watched her movements, and he shrugged to himself, “I have this kitchen memorized like the back of my hand. There’s no need to turn on the light.” He explained, and Y/N was now facing the sink, finishing up her glass of water. “I suppose that’s true.” She said nodding her head, pouring the rest of the remaining water out and put the glass in the sink. As she was about to turn around, she felt his body against her backside. Gulping she kept her eyes glued to the window where she could somewhat see their reflection. “Don’t you want somebody to love?” He whispered, moving Y/N hair over her shoulder as he wrapped his fingers around her throat.
Freezing, Y/N felt herself melt at the gesture, her eyes locked with Dream’s reflection on the window, the only light source being the light above the sink. “What makes you think that?” She asked, trying to keep her voice at a confident tone. Dream chuckled, leaving one hand around her throat, while his free hand reached up grabbing a handful of her hair pulling it back roughly so her head was leaning back. Wincing slightly, she bit her bottom lip not allowing herself to make a sound. “So you’re telling me..” He whispered, leaning down so his lips were right next to her ear.
“You don't want me to just fuck you senseless right here, right now?” He asked, and Y/N felt her entire face flush. “What are you saying right now?” She asked embarrassed, and Dream chuckled darkly, tightening his grip around her neck before he let go, and released the grip on her hair. “You’ll see with time princess.” He whispered ghosting his lips over her exposed neck, which caused a shiver to go down her spine. She finally let a whimper escape, “Dream..” She whispered and turned around to see he had left already. Soon it hit her like a brick, she blushed madly and her heart raced.
“What the fuck just happened..” She mumbled, steadying herself on the counter. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she moved her hand up to touch her neck, where his hand once was. Groaning, she shook her head, “Fuck you for messing with me.” She said, frustrated by confusion and touch deprivation. Walking up and into the bathroom, she started the shower and slowly stripped of her clothes. Getting inside the shower, her body relaxed as the heat consumed her. Letting out a content sigh, her eyes shot open when she heard someone enter the bathroom.
“Dri?” She asked, not daring to look out in case she would lock eyes with the green eyed boy she once saw in the kitchen. “Yeah?” The voice of Drista spoke up, letting out a sigh of relief she relaxed instantly, “What are you doing?” She asked and Drista cleared her throat, “I overheard Dream talking to who I assume was George and Sapnap. But he said that you and him had an interaction in the kitchen.” Drista said, and Y/N instantly tensed up at the reasoning. “What did you hear?” She asked, and Drista shrugged even though Y/N could not see her, “Something about you and him bumping into one another.” She said, and Y/N was thankful Dream didn’t go into detail with his friends.
“Well I am going to bed now.” Drista said, walking out, “Oh hey Dream.” Y/N heard as the door was being shut, Y/N couldn’t help but feel on edge. Her body was craving for Dream to touch her like that again, but she refused to believe it. Hearing the bathroom door open again, this time the culprit tried to make it as quiet as possible. “Having a nice shower princess?” His voice ricocheted off the walls of the shower, and into her ears. Shivering even though her body was under scalding hot water, she looked over his outline visible through the shower curtain. “What are you doing in here?” She asked, her voice wavering a bit from both excitement and fear.
“I also needed a shower, and I figured why not save water?” He said, alarmingly calm. As soon as the words registered through her brain, the shower curtain opened. This wasn’t the first time Dream and Y/N were close to having sex it almost happened when he was 20 and Y/N was 18. They had gotten into an argument which led to a heated makeout session, which they both agreed to forget. “Dream!” Y/N shrieked when she saw his body come into view. Her entire body froze, as her eyes just took in his bare body. “Like the view? It’s not the first time you’ve seen it. Or the second, or third.” He said, grabbing her hips pulling her towards him.
Yeah they’ve made out and saw each other naked multiple times, some accidental. But never did she think this would be happening, “I will not touch you, or anything without your permission princess.” He whispered into her ear, and Y/N felt her insides melt at his words. She wanted this, she has for quite a while. Dream has too. But he had patience, but he was no longer patient once he overheard their conversation about him earlier when he was on his way to the kitchen. “Please Dream.” Y/N spoke up, knocking Dream out of his trance, and a smirk found its way onto his features. “As you wish.”
Turning her around he shoved her onto the shower wall, and she leaned against it for support. “Your safe word is Dove.” He said slowly, as his hands trailed over her wet body. He moved over a bit, so the water could hit him as well. “I will then ask for your color. Green means keep going after a short break, and red means stop completely, okay?” He explained, and Y/N nodded her head. He slowly and teasingly trailed a hand up, and wrapped his hand back around her throat, “Will you be a good girl and keep quiet?” He said in her ear, and Y/N nodded her head, “Yes sir.” She said, and Dream growled at the name. “Good girl.” He said, and slowly he used his free hand to finger her so she could be prepared.
Moving the hand up, he tapped her lips as he inserted two fingers into her mouth, “Suck.” He ordered, and Y/N happily obliged since she loved to have things in her mouth she could chew or suck on. Sucking on his fingers, he slowly removed them from her mouth. Moving his hand back down, the other hand still wrapped around her throat. Slowly he inserted one finger, and she let out a quiet moan as she bit her lip. Slowly he started moving his finger in and out, loving the way her body reacted to it. She wasn’t a virgin, she had lost it when she was 17 with some random guy at a party. Picking up the pace, he slowly inserted another finger, and she bit her bottom lip to hold back the moan.
Picking up the pace of his fingers, he started to curl his fingers searching for the certain spot. Y/N accidentally let out a loud moan when he hit a spot that sent pleasure everywhere throughout her body. Dream smirked once he knew he had found it, “Quieter princess.” He warned, and she nodded her head leaning it against the wall. Thrusting his fingers quickly, making sure he repeatedly hit that spot, she found herself growing close to her climax. Dream noticed this by the way her legs started to shake, and he slowly pulled his fingers out. He licked them clean, and she whined at the loss of pleasure. Smirking, he grabbed his dick aligning it to her entrance.
Slowly he inserted the tip, and kept going until he bottomed out. Y/N winced from how big he was, “Fuck..” She whispered, in both pain and pleasure, “Please move.” She begged, and Dream knew she wouldn't be able to keep quiet by how she reacted when he entered her. Moving his free hand up, he forced his fingers into her mouth, instantly letting them go to the back of her throat. She gagged around his fingers, as he started pounding into her. Letting out choked moans on his fingers, she felt tears rolling down her face. It was mixed with the water from the shower head, on her left side and her tears. Dream picked up the pace, pulling her body back against him so he could see her fucked out face. Groaning once he saw the tears, and her crossed eyes, he moved his hand from her throat down to play with her clit.
Getting overwhelmed with the sensation she felt herself grow close again, Dream on the other hand didn’t care if she made noises now. He wanted to hear her, he quickly pulled his fingers out of her mouth and held her steady by her hip with his other hand. Y/N felt herself cum on his dick, and Dream felt her clench around him making him hiss at the feeling. He kept pounding into her, making her grow overstimulated. Screaming out, she grabbed his wrist that led to the hand that was toying with her clit. Digging her nails into his wrist, her eyes rolled back and she started babbling out incoherent words, “Is my princess fucked dumb? Is my dick so good that she can’t talk?” He cooed, feeling himself growing closer. Y/N nodded her head, moans and blabbering was the only thing she could let out. Pulling out quickly, he felt himself cum on her ass and some on her lower back. Groaning he leaned his head back and bit his bottom lip. The water was now getting cold, so he quickly cleaned her up and washed her hair, and body before he got out drying her off as she was clearly out of it.
Dressing her, he himself quickly got dressed carrying her to his room. Laying her down, he laid beside of her and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her neck softly. “Goodnight princess.” He whispered, and Y/N tiredly mumbled it back.
#mcyt#mcyt imagine#mcyt smut#mcyt fanfiction#dreamwastaken#dream x reader#dreamsmp#dreamwastaken smut
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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village
Rating: T+ for language and violence
Warnings: Choking (kinda)
Summary: Local feral human makes a friend, tries to sleep next to local mean vampire, then gets a taste of their own medicine
Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!
3: Haunt Me Dearly
What a lovely crimson mess I’ve made, you think, watching as the last of the bloody water drained from the bathtub. There were still several splashes of red along the sides, where you had leaned on or otherwise touched. Frowning, you considered whether or not to clean up after yourself. Surely it wouldn’t be one of your captors doing the cleaning? In that case, you think, I don’t want to make any enemies out of the servants. First you had to finish binding your wounds. Wouldn’t want to risk getting them dirty so soon after washing them, after all. Except you weren’t even sure that you could properly wrap them on your own, considering the positioning of your injuries.
“Ah, fucking hell…” You muttered, scowling a little. Then you remembered that Cassandra had sent a maid to wait outside the bathroom for you. Maybe they could help? Nodding to yourself, you threw on your new undergarments and pair of trousers, deciding to save the shoes for later. Once you were ‘decent’, you slowly opened the door, peeking out from behind it. Before long you were making eye contact with an unfamiliar woman, who looked very confused. “Any chance you could help me bandage my shoulder? I can’t do it without help, and something tells me Cassandra’s not going to lend me a hand.” With that said, you gave her a friendly smile, hoping to make up for the awkwardness of the situation.
“Of course! It is my honor to serve a guest of my Lady,” the maid- servant, maybe- said, giving a short curtsy. Admittedly you’re a little confused by her response. Still, you gladly welcome her assistance, moving back into the bathroom to grab the gauze. Although you intend to do as much as you can on your own, the woman is quick to take over completely. “Please, allow me,” she continued, carefully beginning to wrap your wounds.
“Are all the workers here so polite? I can’t imagine anyone actually enjoys working here, all things considered,” you mused, squinting at the middle distance. At that, the servant tenses up, clearly not expecting you to speak ill of her employers. Well, she had called you a guest. “Don’t be surprised, friend. Less than an hour ago I was fit to be consumed by ‘your Lady Cassandra’. Only reason I’m not dead right now is because of a stupid blood bond,” you explained, tone dripping with irritation. This time the servant doesn’t flinch at all, instead nodding slowly, taking a moment to let your words sink in. During this pause, you decide to introduce yourself, just in case the two of you might see each other frequently.
“I… see. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, no matter the circumstances of your presence here. You can call me Daphne, though I must warn you that I am not one for, ahem, gossip about my masters,” she replied, finishing her binding of your shoulder wound. Next she searched through the cabinet by the sink, looking for a medicinal salve of some sort. Once she found it she was right back to work. The substance stung a tad on your skin, but you could hardly complain, seeing as it would help fight off possible infections.
“You sure about no gossip? What if we call it ‘helping me get acclimated to my new situation’? I’m a fish outta water here, Daphne,” you suggested, turning your head to look her in the eyes. At first she ignored you, focusing on rubbing the medicine into your skin. Eventually she meets your gaze, briefly, and releases a quiet sigh.
“You are free to ask questions-” you start to celebrate, though not for long- “just as I am free to withhold answers. Though I may be more responsive if you can tell me one thing… Why was Lady Cassandra’s dress wet?” Daphne asked, making you freeze in place. Of course she wanted the one answer you didn’t feel confident about giving. She’s quick to notice this, though, and laughs to herself. “Well, I suppose some things must remain a mystery. Now let’s get your face cleaned up…”
-------------------------------
By the time you make it to Cassandra’s room, the sun is starting to rise, leaking in through the castle windows. Exhaustion weighs you down, making you want to fall immediately into the nearest bed. As it stands, that was none other than your soulmate’s, though it was currently occupied. For a moment you hover in her doorway, contemplating whether or not you should steal her blanket. Floor can’t be too bad, you think, right? Before you can decide you notice Cassandra stirring from her sleep.
“What took you so fucking long?” She asked groggily. Now she’s sitting up, blanket clinging loosely to her body, and you realize that she’s not wearing a shirt. Though a blush rishes up your cheeks, you’re certain it’s too dark for Cassandra to notice. Or at least you hope so. Wanting to think about something other than what she was (or was not) wearing, you focus your energy on responding.
“Isn’t it obvious? I got invited to a sick orgy on the way back, and I wasn’t about to turn that down, so…” You trailed off, gesturing idly with your hands. The movement stretches your shoulder more than you’d like, resulting in an ache that lasts several seconds. It distracts you to the point where you almost can’t catch the object Cassandra promptly throws at you. “What the hell…?” It’s a shoe, as far as you can tell, that definitely would have hurt, had it hit its intended target. “Such a lovely gift, babe. I will treasure it for the rest of my days, forever keeping it as a reminder that you-” your tone shifts from a false joy to deadpan- “are a piece of shit. Now, seriously, where am I supposed to sleep? Is there a walk-in closet I can camp in? Or do I get the bed, while you sleep in a fucking coffin or something?”
Before Cassandra has a chance to respond, you’re walking further into her room, wanting to take a quick look around. There’s a large dresser that you quickly toss her shoe inside, as well as a window sill with a built-in reading nook. Trading your tiredness for sheer dickery, you throw open the curtains, letting the light pour in (and nearly blind you in the process). Half of you expects your soulmate to screech in response. Maybe even turn to ash. Instead, you hear her moving, and you turn to find her laying back down, facing away from you.
“When you’re done fucking around, come over here and sleep. I will knock you out if I have to,” Cassandra muttered, still sounding half asleep. As much as you wanted to know if she’d go through with her threat, you are exhausted. Begrudgingly you approach the bed. It’s certainly large enough for two people, even having enough room for you to be completely separate from each other. When you start to climb in, you find yourself overwhelmed for a moment, surprised at the quality of the sheet fabric. Exactly how rich were these vampiric assholes? This room alone seemed to be worth more than you had ever known.
This was, perhaps, the one bright side to your situation: A comfortable state of existence. Well, as comfortable as one could get in a place like this. So lovely on the outside, a muse worthy of a thousand artists, yet hiding far darker horrors within… much like the woman you now found yourself laying beside. Why me? Why her? What could possibly bring the two of us together, you think, other than a cruel fate? There’s a pain in your chest, dishearteningly similar to heartache. Damning the universe, and your blood bond, and yourself, you think ‘fuck it’ before sliding closer to Cassandra. One arm drapes itself over her waist, while you slowly lean your head against her back.
In an instant she’s tense, not even breathing, waiting for you to reveal whatever trick hid up your sleeve. But no trick comes, just your hand meeting hers, squeezing softly. Suddenly the tension is gone. None remains, not even lingering in the air, and the two of you soon drift off to sleep...
-------------------------------
Shaking, body made a wreck through tremors, tears staining her cheeks. Breathing comes hard, each shift of her lungs bringing with it a mighty ache. Someone’s holding her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, fingers tracing circles against her back. But she’s lost in her dream, eyes clenched shut. Visions flash before her gaze like lightning in a storm. There’s no time to process, no opportunity to prepare for the thunder that follows. Every strike is a punch to the gut she can’t ignore. When release finally comes, it is not a gentle kiss to her forehead, or a reassuring hand on her own, but rather an intense surge of pain that jolts her awake.
Cassandra nearly screams as she sits up, hands reflexively going to hold her head. One of them stings, bad, and she notices what look like bite marks on the side. For a moment her confusion acts as a welcome distraction. Then she’s looking next to her, and the puzzle practically puts itself together. There you are, one hand in your mouth, an eyebrow raised as you stare at her. Ignoring the lingering memories of her dream, she turns all of her rage towards you. Quickly she grabs ahold of your arm, forcefully yanking your hand out of your mouth, even though it makes your teeth dig in a little deeper. It takes more willpower than she wants to admit to stop herself from strangling you right then and there.
“I didn’t know monsters could even have nightmares,” you taunted. Before you know what’s happening, Cassandra is lunging towards you, pressing her forearm against your throat. There’s just enough pressure to make talking difficult. Both of her yellow eyes are filled with hatred, aimed right at you, but you can’t help but laugh. “Ya know, I did try to wake you up nicely. I should have known you only respond to violence. Next time, though, I’ll remember to stay a safe distance away.”
“You don’t know anything, dipshit. Anyone else would know better than to spout so much fucking ignorance, but nobody taught you how to behave, huh?” Cassandra growled, applying more pressure with her arm, leaving you unable to reply (for once). “You’re a goddamn mutt, aren’t you? Thrown to the street like the garbage you are, left to live in the gutter, feeding off of trash like a fucking cannibal. You should be honored to be allowed anywhere near me. You should be worshiping me, for fuck’s sake!” Black dots form in your vision, a dark halo edging into the corners of your eyes, as your lungs beg for air. But you’re grinning. You’re showing your teeth, bright and proud, knowing full well that you have won this round. As soon as realization dawns on Cassandra’s face she’s pulling herself off of you.
Still, you are left gasping, clutching at your neck as she hurriedly gets dressed for the day. By the time you can see properly again, she’s left without another word. Even as she stalks down the corridor, eagerly rushing away from you, she hears your laughter howling through the castle. It digs into her brain, taunting her. Soon enough you’ll stop, light headed, but she will still hear it echoing inside her mind. You’ll haunt her just as much as her wicked dreams. Hopefully more.
#cassandra dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu x reader#resident evil: village#re8 village#blunt teeth sharp tongue#cassandra gets a turn to be a dick#>=3
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I read the Diavolos ball and angsty stuff, can I please please please get a happy ending to go with it?
This has been a highly requested and I must give my poor followers comfort after this straight up angst
So everyone, let's get into it! Some hurt and comfort to soothe your hearts
Warning: angst, long
I'll be putting this under readmore as it is long and I have had someone before say they wanted me to add it on long posts, I never really got any feedback about what I could do better and how this will help with people's viewing but I understand why, long posts can be annoying
If you guys think I should do this with all my long posts please comment or dm me or even state it in asks/requests - I wanna do what I can to make things enjoyable for people
Part 1 - beginning
Diavolo's ball aftermath
It's been a few days since they've seen you; they expected to find you in the dorm. Some fear you went back to the human world; there was no messages, no note - there was nothing. You were completely gone.
Everyone was losing it. The brothers got more aggressively with each other, no longer able to have you come between them. Your presence was so soothing to all of them but now you were gone. As soon as they realized you were gone the whole air of the dorm shifted. It wasn't right.
Mammon got desperate to know where you were. He handed one of his crows a necklace he got you, you promised to never take it off. His heart shattered when he saw it was on your desk. He wasn't sure what he did wrong - why did you take it off? What happened to you?
It wasn't long before the crow came back to the devildom; reporting that you were in fact in the human world. The brothers were devastated. They had to tell the others and they had to watch the hopeful shine in their eyes die.
They could all feel thankful you were unharmed but you were so far. You did this to get away from them. You didn't even leave a damn note!
Diavolo ordered everyone to go to the human world. They all split up into different parties to get you, whoever could get you first had to interrogate you. It didn't take a genius to understand that the Noble told you something horrible - why else would you have such a reaction? Barbatos was tasked to 'calmly discuss' that night with said noble but regardless of how rough and merciless he was; he refused to talk.
It was wasting time and energy. If he wasn't going to talk then they had to get the answer from you. A few were able to gather the gist of what he told you from your conversation before you disappeared; you were convinced you were being used and just a replacement, a pawn to them.
They wanted the full story. The whole reason. Anything! Just to understand why you would push them away and disappear like this. What have they done to make the nobles words feel so real to you? They needed to fix it.
The demon brother's split into a team of two; eldest and youngest, the royals stayed together and the elder exchange students were a double team aswell.
The crows lead the teams their way, splitting up to different routes to see if they could circle you so they could talk to you even if you decided to run.
In the end they found you, you were across the pavement, a train coming. The pedestrian stop dinged as it commanded people to stop but the men couldn't help themselves.
"(Y/N)!!!"
You whipped around, shocked. You thought your ears were playing tricks on you but there was the boys. Your boys. Tears bubbled in your eyes. You couldn't believe it. They followed you to the human world.
The world slowed down; the wind blowing against you as your eyes widened at the sight of them. They looked exhausted, some even with tear streaked cheeks. The more impulsive bunch being held back so they don't go running towards you. The street lights illuminated all of you; their appearance looked just as broken as their hearts.
The train rammed itself between you all. Disturbing the moment with its blaring horn, the screeching wheels ringing in your ears. It was the second you had to decide; do you run? Or do you stay?
To let them get you and finally face your emotions or run away, avoid everything and keep letting despair consume you.
You stayed. You couldn't move at all. It was if you were glued to the spot. But you knew it was just your heart aching for them; desperate to hold them and cry out your pain.
As soon as they could, they all rushed to your side. Hugging you, grabbing at your arms and head to pull you close to them. You choked on your tears as you let the 11 men hug you and check your face and clothes. All just wanting to make sure you were really there and unharmed.
You missed them all dearly and you were so happy they missed you too.
But then the big question was asked.
"what happened that night?"
"he said he was happy to meet me...asked for a dance and I said yes, I never should of, he kept telling me I was just Diavolo's pawn, Lilith's replacement and convinced me none of actually cared for me....I believed him.....I felt so unsure and he knew so much about us I just couldn't stop the doubts in my head....I'm so sorry-!"
Lucifer:
He couldn't believe that noble said that to you
He hastily grabbed your face, wiping away your tears
"You will never be and never have been her replacement, you are your own person, your connection to our sister means nothing other than comfort that she was able to be happy and that's it - I apologize if we have made you feel like you are a replacement and have compared you to her.... please understand we just miss her very dearly but we all want you in our life more than anything."
You buried your face into his shoulder
Sobbing your heart out as you kept chanting apologies and gratitude in a broken voice
He silenced you, holding you close
The prideful demon hid his face as best as he could and let tears drip down his cheeks
He was so relived to have you back
It seemed that noble wasn't only going to be visited by barbatos
Lucifer was not known for being merciful
Mammon:
He grabbed your arm and hastily tugged you towards him
His other hand cradled the back of your head
"Don't ever run away again, you understand?! I'm supposed to be the one protecting ya and how am I supposed to do that if you're off running in different realms without telling anyone??!! That noble doesn't know anything! I don't know how he knew about Lilith but you ain't her, you're (Y/N) And that's it! You are your own person - you gotta call out my dumbass-ary if I compare or make you feel that way, I would never do it on purpose! I like you and only you! I can't lose you again!"
He pushed his forhead against yours
A shaky exhale leaving him
You tried to apologize but he cut you right off, hugging you closer
He was going to make that Noble pay for ever making you doubt yourself like this
To doubt how much he loves you
Levithan:
He was already crying
He was crying before you even considered crying
He rushed to you and grabbed your hands
"I got so scared I did something, Don't listen to that normie! Normies are losers for a reason! There's no one else I would want as my best friend - no one will ever be a better game partner than you! You always make me feel happy and proud to be me-! I couldn't ask for anything more from you! I miss Lilith but I miss you even more! You're my favourite person, you're not some replacement, you're you! You're my player 2-! I'm sorry if I made you feel like you're not as amazing as you are, please don't leave again!"
It wasn't long after his speech he hugged you
Squeezing you tightly as he relished in having you back in real life 3D
since you were gone he kept playing as your game avatars
Using ai set ups to feel like he was with you again in VR
That noble will not stand a chance against his fury
Satan:
He wasn't sure if he was mad at you or himself
It was most likely both - mad you left and let someone just destory so much work and progression in one meeting
But mad at himself for not making you feel secure
He couldn't bring himself to hug you but that was because he was scared he wouldn't let go
"I knew that Noble was nothing but a menace-! You can't listen to people like him, he's just trying to get to you and tear us apart - I don't know why he would do that but he isn't right, he will never EVER be right! You are yourself and never will be Lilith, I didn't get to me her or really know who she was but I do know you will never be her and never were her! I care so much about you and I will make sure to keep my stupid brothers to never make you feel that way again, I've missed you so much (Y/N)."
In the end, he fell into your arms
Holding you tight as he let out his tears of frustration go
You apologized but he just told you to shut up, he didn't want you to be sorry for being the victim
He already had plans on what he's going to do to that noble, trying to push those thoughts away
Focusing on how wonderful it is to have you close
Asmodeus:
As soon as he could reach you, he pulled you into an embrace
Shaking his head as tears streamed down
His makeup already starting to to drip along work his tears
"No! No! No! Noooo!! Don't listen to that horrible noble! He isn't right at all, he doesn't know anything about us or you! He obviously doesn't know how much we care about you and like you as your own person, I never meant to make you feel as if you were some sort of replacement! Lilith was her own being and so are you, your connection means nothing! I i will always be happy knowing my sister got to live the life she wanted but you aren't apart of that, your life is your own and you are nothing like her! I love you because you're you! I couldn't imagine ever loving someone as much as I love you, please come back to the devildom!"
He nuzzled his cheek against yours
Thankful to have you back in his arms again
He didn't like getting his hands messy but no one was going to make you feel that way ever again
He didn't care about that demons status
Beezlebub:
His hand landed on the top of your head
You flinched not expecting such a gentle pat but it only broke his heart more
"That noble knows nothing about you or any of us, he's turned my sister into an enemy to our relationship and I will not let that go on for any longer! You are not her and not her replacement, how dare he make you feel that way! you're apart of my family and I'll have it no other way, I really love you and missed you everyday you were gone - I was scared I'd never feel full again, you make me feel complete and when you disappeared I knew I wouldn't be able to protect you, I would of never forgiven myself if you got hurt! I want to always be able to protect you and have you by my side and make you feel happy - I promise I won't fail you again."
He almost fell to his knees once he was done
He was ready to swear to you on one knee, like a true knight
But instead hugged you
Mindful not to squeeze too hard but let himself be selfish and hold you tighter than he would normally dare to
He was one prone to be violent unless it was in sports or he was starved - the Noble starved him of your touch and kindness
He'll break more than just rooms once he gets his hands on that Noble
Belphegor:
He spun you to face him
Demanding
Needing your attention on him
It was only a few days but it felt like forever since he's had your eyes on him
"You're no pawn and no replacement, you are you and that's all I want, I don't want any one else, I know I've made you feel like a replacement - i did something horrible to you and then tried to make it seem like it was all okay after, I'm always trying to make up for that day but I know that is something that will always effect us! I missed you so much....you are your own person and you've helped me be a better person, come back home and let me make this right......you're all I want and need."
He broke down crying
Hanging his head low and it dropped onto your shoulder
He loosely held your waist whilst you gripped onto him tight
If everyone thought choking you was bad, just wait until they see what he plans to do with that noble
He couldn't stand seeing you so upset anymore
UNDATEABLES↓
Diavolo:
He gently held your arm
Giving it a small squeeze as tears built up
"He said all that? I'm sorry he made you feel like that, to feel such confliction and dread, You are never will be or were my pawn, you're a fantastic student and wonderful person who's did more than I've ever imagined Someone could do, if I could have asked you myself properly to be apart of the exchange program I would of but the world is not yet ready to merge and be aware of our existence.... please you have my deepest apologies and regrets that you felt this way and I've allowed such a person in my court, I will do whatever I can to make this right."
The tears finally fell and he became selfish
Hugging you tight against him, his fingers brushing against any skin he could touch
He couldn't dare to think how he'll be when you finally do leave the program
But until that time comes he needed to make it a good experience for you
If what barbatos did to him wasn't enough to convince him then he will not go back on his word
He'll fix this and do whatever he can to make all the pain stop
Barbatos:
He sighed in relief seeing you in the flesh
Knees buckling as he stood before you
His knuckles bloodied and bruised under his gloves
"I should of been more comforting when I found you, if I had known that was what he said I would of never let him be apart of the lord's court or be at that party, believe me when I say you are not a pawn or someone's replacement - you are so much more than that, you are you and someone that's made me feel closer to the present, to act quicker and stop using endless time as a excuse, I will fix this and make him regret ever uttering a word to you, I promise you."
Your touch was as gentle as ever
He caved, leaning against you
Happy to be able to make amends and fix the situation
The nobles dealt with him once and no matter what he did it wasn't enough
But he was merely holding back to be a gentleman, even if that noble now looks like a beaten raisin
It seemed he will have to do much worse to send everyone's message across
Solomon:
His face was gentle yet scolding
He gently brushed your cheek, wiping away a stray tear
"don't run off next time something like this happens, your life is so short and I hate to think would could happen if I lost you because you felt isolated even from me, you though you could find solace as both of us are humans but I was slow to understand your needs - you are deeply loved by everyone, I envy how much love you get and that's why I can't stand to see you run! I also love you and your presence, you have been so kind to me and I still have so much to teach you- please believe me when I say you're no one's pawn or replacement, you're important because you're you."
You crumbled completely
He hugged you as you apologized, calling yourself an idioit
But it only made him tsk, rubbing your back as he filled your ears with praises
He was sure the demons were going to rip that Noble to shreds but he couldn't help but desire his own revenge
Seeing you like this hurt him so much
Simeon:
He was so quick and gentle you could of mistaken him as a feather
He embraced you, cradling your head and rubbed soothing circles between your shoulder blades
"I was worried about you, I took you home and then I learn you've completely disappeared! No warning or note behind, you ran away - your feelings are extremely valid and I understand why you did this, It must of been so conflicting and you needed space to think and reflect, you're so strong (Y/N)! but you are also smarter than this, I feel ashamed knowing I haven't showed you how much I appreciate you being in my life and make sure you feel secure in the Devildom, I want to look over you but I've failed you already, that Noble does not know what he's talking about regardless of the information he has! I would never let anyone use you or let anyone treat you as some replacement, we all care so much about you."
He slightly swayed with you in his arms
Overwhelmed by his fears and the emotions that were rushing through him
He promised to never harm an innocent soul
That noble did not have one
He will leave the more physically destructive rage to the others
Wanting to merely talk and show the noble the error of his ways
Bonus:
You were back in the Devildom, Everyone was making sure to spend extra time with you. So happy to have you back and wanting to work on making you feel more secure. You couldn't stop how fast your heart was beating from all the overwhelming joy you felt.
It felt so good to be back. But you nagging worry remained in your head; what was going to happen to the Noble? you wished you could go up to him and yell at him. Prove him wrong and make him regret ever making you spiral like that.
When you brought up the idea, the men all looked at each other. A knowing look in their eye.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N) but I think it's best you don't see him but rest assured, we've dealt with him on your behalf and understand your wishes - let us know how we can help you feel resolved from that situation if this is unsatisfactory."
Diavolo answered. If it weren't the state the noble was in they'd happily let you chew him out but your heart and mind have been through enough already. No need to add on to the hurt with seeing what was left of him. They couldn't stand to see you upset again.
But you agreed, thanking them for their support and handling the situation. Unaware of their true actions. They all wished you a great day before going back to their own private meeting.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#gamingclubpresident#aracadejohn217 9#obey me mammon#obey me mc#obey me asmodeus#obey me satan#obey me belphegor#obey me barbatos#obey me beezlebub#obey me levithan#obey me luficer#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#obey me demon brothers#obey me diavolo#obey me imagine#obey me x you#obey me x mc#obey me x reader#obey me headcanon#angst#obey me angst#cw: angst
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unrequited pt.2. peter parker
word count: 3.6k
warnings: anxiety, panic attack? i guess kind of
requested: yea a few people asked for this lol
plot: you haven’t seen peter for weeks and start to worry about him
a/n: i finished re-writing this late last night and i’ll be honest with you i haven’t checked it over so sorry if there are any mistakes but i’m tired sis goodnight! lmk if you like this! pls comment / share!
pt.1 / marvel masterlist / multi-fandom masterlist
"ned... you're so wrong for so many reasons," m.j.'s expression was flat, her eyes rolling before she continued to fight ned on who was really the strongest avenger. you were supposed to be working on a group project for your history class but somehow the topic of the avengers came up and the conversation derailed. ned was making a, somewhat, compelling case for the hulk but m.j. was clearly winning with her argument for wanda.
"nobody even knows the full extent of her powers... and the hulk? what? he's gonna smash some more?"
you sat quietly, chin in the palm of your hand, listening in and out of the conversation. you didn't really feel much like contributing. you would occasionally chime in to support m.j. but mostly you just heard the noise of their bickering and let it happen.
you didn't want to be that person, but your mind was (much to your frustration) completely consumed with thoughts of peter. and at the worst time, you had so many tests coming up, and essay deadlines were also creeping up on you. usually you were on top of this stuff, but your mind was preoccupied almost all the time.
because of peter, who was no where to be seen. in the past few weeks he had stopped showing up to school all together. ned said it was something to do with tony stark but you had a feeling it was more than that. you didn't know how to explain it.
you hadn't spoken to him in a long time now, and you didn't exactly leave things on good terms. it was the longest you'd gone without talking since peter called you a poopy head in the third grade.
you just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. especially since you had no idea what he was getting up to, peter was known to get himself into some messes when he was left to his own devices. and you just knew ned was lying to cover for his best friend but that only made you feel even more out of the loop.
everything felt a bit off without peter around, like something was missing. that, on top of the guilt and worry you were feeling, was turning your head to mush. last time you'd spoken to peter, he was erratic and wounded and desperate. something bad had to have happened for him to be gone this long.
the bell rang, signalling the end of your last period for the day, and the rest of the week seeing as it was a friday. you snapped out of your daze, jolting as your eyes focused back on your surroundings.
"what time did you say again, y/n?" your eyes drifted to m.j. who was collecting her notes on her desk, her eyes meetings yours, waiting for your answer. a crease formed between your eyebrows, you hadn't heard a word of the conversation before right now. m.j. seemed to realise this, rolling her eyes at you with a playful smile. you did this a lot lately, she was getting used to it. "homecoming? what time did you want to meet tonight?"
"oh," you nodded, still sitting at your desk as your classmates hustled around you. "right, homecoming— i— uh—"
"tell me you're still coming," ned interrupted, his eyes wide suddenly, clearly desperate that your answer was anything but no. "c'mon we've had this planned for ages!"
"no— yeah— of course i am," you nodded quickly to reassure him. "yeah— sorry— i just spaced. is seven good for you guys?"
they hummed in response, nodding.
you packed up your books, shoving them into your bag, still in a slight haze with all these thoughts running through your head about peter. you couldn't think about homecoming, it seemed trivial now compared to the worst case scenarios running through your mind. maybe you could try to call peter again? you thought to yourself as you quickly left the classroom, forgetting about m.j. and ned and homecoming, your muscle memory alone leading you to your locker.
you swapped out your books from your bag with the ones you needed to study from for your biology test next week. after slamming the locker door shut, a familiar face was met with yours.
"jesus," you muttered as he stood inches away from your face, your heart racing from the shock. clutching your books to your chest, after nearly having a heart attack, you let out a loud sigh and furrowed your eyebrows. "peter? where the hell have you been?" you regained some of your composure, enough to find some anger in you towards him. he was the last person you were expecting to see today.
"you're ok?" his usual soft brown eyes looked sunken and tired, his hair was scruffier than usual and his lips chapped as they hung open, his eyes scanning over you.
your mouth hung open to speak but he just shook his head as if answering his own question. he gripped your forearm, urging you to walk with him. you dug in your heels, yanking your arm back, wanting him to slow down and explain before you went anywhere with him. "will you just walk," he muttered sharply when you tried to resist him. "please," he softened quickly, his eyes meeting yours.
you frowned, uncomfortably shifting the stack of books in your arms as peter pulled you along behind him hastily. you watched his eyes shifting about the hallway as students weaved around the two of you, his grip not loosening for a second. he was definitely up to something stupid and dangerous that he absolutely should not be involved in.
he'd dragged you all the way out into the parking lot, pulling you aside and away from the crowd of people.
"what's going on? why do you look like— i mean no offence but— you look like crap," you couldn't help but show some level of concern. no matter how complicated your feelings were for him at the moment, he was still your best friend, and he looked like hell. you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him.
"i need you to just— stop talking and listen to me," the look in his eyes made your heart beat a bit faster, your eyes darting between his trying to understand his urgency. "you're not safe—"
"no— i'm fine—" you were never very good at doing what you were told. you glanced down at yourself, perfectly safe and standing in front of him. "see?—"
"no— no you're not," he gulped, his eyes darting away from yours for a split second. "i'm taking you home and you have to stay there. ok? please."
his voice was horse, cracking when he spoke. you didn't understand any of it. peter was the friendly neighbourhood spider-man, what the hell had he gotten himself into that had him this worked up?
you tilted your head slightly, he couldn't think you'd blindly do whatever he said. you needed some answers. "pete," you mumbled, shaking your head with a faint frown. "can't you just tell me what's going on? you're kinda' scaring me."
"i screwed up," his face contorted, his eyes screwing shut for a second and his nose scrunching. you were glued to him, following his mixed expressions trying to understand what was going through his head. he took a deep, shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. "and i know you— you hate me and the last thing you wanna' do is listen to me but i need you to do this for me."
"alright," you said after a moments hesitation. you just wanted him to relax. all your pent up anger and hurt that you'd felt over peter had dissipated quite quickly. you were too occupied with trying to ease some of his stress, and if that meant becoming a homebody for a few days, you would do it. "alright— don't worry. i've been putting off my english essay for a week now anyway, it's about time i cracked down on it."
you tried to ease the tension, act like he wasn't asking much of you. he let out a heavy sigh, looking over at you with those brown eyes. "it's homecoming tonight, i know w—"
"is it?" you feigned forgetfulness, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. you shrugged. "i was never one for socialising anyway."
peter knew you better than that. he knew what he was asking you to give up. "i'm sorry," he took a step closer to you, his hands hovering in front of you, unsure that you wanted him to touch you. "i'm sorry you got dragged into this."
your eyes lingered on his hands before you pulled back up to his stare. you pursed your lips and shrugged. "i'd feel better about it if i knew what i was getting dragged into," you pulled away from your conversation for a second to slip your books into your bag. "walk me home and you can explain everything."
and he did. he told you all about the vulture, the weapons, what really happened during the decathlon trip. all of it. right up to when the vulture figured out his identity— which lead to him finding out about aunt may, about his friends, and about you. he told you about how he'd spent the past few weeks figuring out where the vulture's next major deal was being held, how he'd messed up so bad and how mr stark had taken his suit.
by the time he'd finished, your mouth hung open slightly. you didn't know how he'd been dealing with all of this by himself. spider-man helped old ladies cross the street and returned stolen bicycles, he didn't fight men in bird costumes to stop illegal sales of dangerous advanced weapon tech.
"peter, this sounds pretty dangerous," you spoke up after he told you about his plan to intercept the vulture's airplane heist. "don't you think you should just call happy? or tony? this sounds like iron man territory."
"i can't do that," he sighed. "besides, i already tried happy— he's not taking my calls right now. something about a time out."
you let out a heavy sigh, having taken everything in that he'd told you. you had reached your door, peter standing behind you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. you motioned for him to come in but he hesitated, opening his mouth to decline. "c'mon," you grabbed his arm and tugged gently. "this heist isn't happening 'til late tonight. you can keep me company 'til then."
"maybe, get some rest, too, you really do look like hell," he let you pull him inside, following behind you. he ignored the second dig you had now made about his appearance.
"may must've been pretty mad when she found out you'd been skipping school?" you collapsed onto your bed, crossing your legs over and watching peter perch himself on the edge of your bed. he leaned forward, his hand running over his face with sheer exhaustion.
"you have no idea," he groaned, holding his head up with the palm of his hand now. "i'm pretty much grounded for the rest of the year. and i have to send her a pic' of me sitting in every one of my classes from now on," you nodded, pursing your lips because that sounded about right. "but mainly she was worried."
"well, she wasn't the only one," he glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes lingering there for a while. you breathed through your nose, looking away from him and down to your hands to give yourself a moment. you'd forgotten how difficult it was to have him look at you like that. "you just took off with no word, peter."
he turned his gaze away from you, focusing on the wall in front of him, his eyes glossy. for weeks that last conversation with you had been sitting at the back of his mind. he knew he'd handled everything in the worse possible way. he tried to protect you, hurt you by doing so, and then had everything he tried to protect you from blow up in his face anyway.
"i haven't been able to think clearly for weeks," you gulped, scared to meet his gaze again, in fear that you might lose your confidence. "i missed you. and i was worried out of my mind about you."
"y/n—" his voice was quiet.
"and i know i was the one who told you to leave. but i was hurt and sad. i'd convinced myself that you felt the same way, and when you—" you closed your eyes for a second, feeling him watching you. you hadn't been able to say any of this out loud for weeks and now it was just spilling out of you. "anyway— i shouldn't've punished you for that. they are my feelings i need to get over. it wasn't your fault and i'm sorry i made it seem like it was."
he shook his head faintly, sniffling slightly, catching your attention. "i screwed up," he shook his head a little harder, pushing himself up off your bed, his back turned to you. "i screwed up so bad," he ran his hand over his face, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. your eyebrows knitted. "it wasn't supposed to turn out like this."
"don't," you shook your head, willing him to stop. "it's not your fault. i shouldn't have—"
he cut you off, turning to face you as he did. "i'm in love with you," his mouth hung open slightly, his eyes now stinging red. "i was in love with you then, and i'm in love with you now. i think i always will be."
your eyebrows unknitted, your mouth opening to speak but nothing came out. you watched his hand tug on the ends of his curls, his eyes locked onto you the entire time, trying to read your expression.
"i was trying to protect you and it went completely wrong—" his breathing was erratic. "i thought you'd be safer if i distanced myself—" the look on his face was breaking your heart. he knew how stupid it all sounded now he explained it out loud. "i screwed everything up— and now you're in more danger than ever— because of me."
"you— you—" your brain was trying to keep up. you shook your head. you had spent the past month telling yourself that everything you thought he'd felt for you wasn't real, that you'd over thought everything he'd ever done for you. you'd been telling yourself for a month to move on. "you didn't screw up, pete. i know you. whatever you did, you did for the right reasons."
the lump in your throat was growing as you tried to keep some kind of composure. it wouldn't do either of you any good to get upset with him when he was worked up like this. he didn't need to be told he'd made a mistake, he was already painfully aware.
"you don't— you—but— i—" he was hyperventilating, completely vulnerable as he fell apart in front of you.
"pete," you mumbled carefully, climbing over to where he was stood, hand in his hair and he pulled on the loose curls, his eyes wide with anxiety and stress. you moved your hands to his, pulling them down to his side and giving them a small squeeze. "calm down," you cooed. "everything will be ok."
you trailed your hands up to his shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze before pulling him into a tight hug. you wrapped your arms 'round his shoulders, one hand moving to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair. his head ducked, burying into your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist in a desperate grip. his breathing was heavy at first, uneven and jagged as he clung onto you. your heart was beating out of your chest, you were sure he could hear it, but you held onto him as tight as you could, pressing your whole body against his trying to offer him as much comfort as you could.
after a while of standing around, holding each other, peter's breathing began to grow softer and slower. he began to notice the sweet scent lingering on your skin. his lips innocently hovering over the curve of your neck, breath fanning against your skin. you could feel goosebumps growing on your skin, the hair of your arms standing on end.
"better?" you mumbled softly. he gave you a faint nod in response, his lips leaving your skin as he pulled himself back from you. your hand slipped from in between his curls and down to the neck, your thumb brushing over his skin as he looked straight into your eyes. you gulped, eyelids fluttering.
he was a state to behold. his nose was pink, under eyes wet, your eyes trailed down to where his lips parted. he hiccuped a breath. you tried to push away the impulse to kiss him because he was clearly vulnerable. you didn't want him to later regret anything. "thanks," he mumbled breathlessly. "i don't know what happened there."
you pouted your lips, about to reply when peters eyes fluttered down your face, catching you off guard. his eyes lingered and you noticed his head tilting down and nearer, his lips catching onto yours before you could register what was happening. it was soft, gentle and didn't last longer than a couple seconds before you had to force yourself to pull away.
"peter— you're overwhelmed right now so maybe we shouldn—"
your whispers against his lips where cut short, he pressed his lips to yours again. unable to resist now he'd had a taste. his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest. you swallowed a gasp, feeling his full weight behind the second kiss. his lips pushed against yours a little more desperately this time, you fell back a step, peter's arms where the only thing keeping you upright at this point.
both your hands where either side of his neck, trailing up into his hair where you pulled softly at the roots of his messy curls. he let out a soft moan against your lips, and you stumbled back once more, your thighs hitting your bed.
your hands quickly slipped down to his chest as you gently pried him off you. your head was spinning a little, his lips were plump and pink and the way he looked at you, with pure love and obsession, made you want to kiss him again and again.
"did you mean it?" you muttered breathlessly.
his eyes trailed back up from your lips, his gaze locking with yours again. he noticed the vulnerability and fear in your eyes now that he was paying you his full attention. he felt a wave of guilt hit him, knowing he was the one that put that look there.
"yeah," he hummed. "i did," he said with his chest. "i do. always will," he was breathless.
"you're not just saying it 'cause you've missed me?"
he shook his head quickly, shutting down any traces of doubt in your mind. "i have been in love with you since that summer we took that trip to coney island when you threw up after you ate too much cotton candy."
your scrunched up your nose at the memory. "gross."
he shrugged. "i don't know what to tell you. that's just when i knew."
your lips twitched into a small smile. "you should probably get some rest," you diverted the topic, trying hard not to kiss him again. he looked so tired. he had poured out months worth of anxiety and stress all in the past ten minutes. "you can't chase bad guys if you're half asleep."
he wore a half-hearted smile, his mind clearly flickering back to the task he had to take on later tonight.
"you can crash here if you want," you motioned to your bed.
"y'sure? i don't wanna get you in trouble."
"mom's working late, so you're good. plus she loves you, pete," your hands slipped down to his, giving them a quick squeeze of reassurance.
"sure she'll still love me when she finds out about us?" he quirked an eyebrow, the small smile on his lips was sloped and tired.
"m'sure," you hummed, biting back your growing smile at the word us. you moved him to sit on your bed again, his hands lazily holding yours. his eyelids fluttered as he looked up at you, a small crease forming between his eyebrows again. you could tell his mind was wandering again. "lie down, you need to rest or you're no good to anyone."
he nodded hesitantly and followed your instruction. "i'll sleep better with you next to me."
his voice was soft after you'd turned your back on him to leave him to rest. you rolled your eyes faintly, smile tugging your lips again. "is that right?"
he hummed, his arms outstretched, waiting for you to fall into them. you dragged your feet back over to him, biting the inside of your cheek, the corner of your lip twitching upwards. "there's a scientific reason behind it but my brain's too sleepy to think right now, so you'll have to take my word for it."
his words slurred together, his eyes rolling slightly the longer he forced them open. you just nodded. "alright, spidey, just this once."
"hm," he hummed as you climbed in next to him, his arms wrapping around you and immediately pulling you against his chest. "thanks," he muttered, his lips pressed against the top of your head. "don't know what i'd do without you."
#peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x you#peter parker angst#peter parker x oc#peter parker fic#peter parker imagine#spiderman#peter x y/n#peter x reader#peter parker x original character#peter parker x y/n#y/n#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman homecoming#marvel#marvel fic#marvel cinematic universe#marvel mcu#mcu#marvel x reader#mcu edit#mcu x reader#mcu marvel avengers#mcu fanfiction#mcu x y/n#mcu fic#avengers#avengers fanfiction#the avengers
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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 3
Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu
Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Song → 18 by Anarbor
Previous →Part 2
Next →Part 4
Never before had you dreaded something more than you dreaded arriving for work the morning following your incident with Keishin. More than anything, you hoped he was thoroughly pissed at you and had left for work early that day so that the two of you wouldn’t have to see each other, but much to your displeasure and horror, when you stepped into the store that morning, he was sitting at the front counter, waiting for you.
How was he not pissed at you after what you had said to him?
When the sound of the front doors sliding open filled the otherwise silent building, leaving the keys in your hand useless as Keishin had already unlocked the store, you gripped the keys tightly and swallowed hard when he looked up at you. He didn’t say anything at first, maybe because he was waiting to see if you would make the first move, but after last night you were done making first moves when it came to him.
Averting his gaze and dropping your head low, you shoved the keys back into your pocket and headed for the back room to put your stuff away and get this day over with.
Just as you were about to open the door to the back room, Keishin cleared his throat and you stopped in your tracks, head turning to look at him without thinking about it.
“Good morning, Y/N.” This was the very first time he had greeted you first, and on top of that, the very first time he had ever used your name.
You weren’t sure how to respond, confusion and excitement mixing in your body to create an overwhelming concoction. “Good morning,” you mumbled in response before disappearing into the back before he could do anything else out of the ordinary, like God forbid initiate a conversation or something.
You took your sweet time getting ready, delaying heading out to the front of the store as long as possible to give Keishin ample time to leave. After about fifteen minutes or so, you emerged only to find him sitting right where he had been before, newspaper sprawled on the counter and a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Shouldn’t you have left by now?” The questioned slipped past your lips before you even had the chance to filter it through your head.
Eyes wide, Keishin was surprised that you had spoken to him almost as much as you were. “We’re expecting a big delivery today, so I’m sticking around,” he answered. “You’ve never handled one by yourself so my mom asked me to show you how it’s done.”
Your heart sank, your stomach twisted, your knees felt weak. So he was going to be here with you all day long? “Perfect,” you groaned, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your tone. “That’s just awesome. Great.”
“Listen, it’s not my idea of an ideal day either, but it is what it is,” he said. “So why don’t we just put last night behind us, chalk it up to exhaustion and the influence of alcohol on my part, and move forward?”
You quirked an eyebrow at him, the fact that you couldn’t seem to figure him out thoroughly starting to irritate you. “How are you not angry at me?” you questioned him. “I was . . . horrible last night.”
You had spent the entire night after getting home thinking about the horrendous way you had behaved. The things you had done and said made you feel awful and you couldn’t understand how Keishin wasn’t on the brink of smacking the shit out of you right now.
“It’s fine.” He flashed a smile, trying his best to prove that he wasn’t dwelling on the past. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”
Looking around to double check that the two of you were the only ones in the store, you lowered your voice before speaking. “But I put my hands on you. You can really just forget that?” Heat swelled in your cheeks as you recalled the less horrible events that had taken place.
“I touched you too,” he reminded you.
“Yeah, but yours was an accident.” You weren’t sure why you were saying all of this stuff; it was almost like you wanted him to be angry at you. Who knows, maybe you did. “I called you a burnout.”
Keishin let out a booming laugh at that. “Take a good long look at me, kid.” He smirked, gesturing to himself. “You really think I’ve never been called worse?”
“I don’t think that’s the point,” you breathed out.
Keishin opened his mouth to speak, but before he let a word out, he changed his mind and pressed his lips together. In the meantime, he watched you, the cogs in his head obviously working hard. “You’re an odd one, you know that?” He stood up, walked over to you, and set a hand on your shoulder. “I said it’s fine, so just forget about it, okay?”
“Okay.” You nodded, finally giving in.
“Good. Now, get to work, because this place isn’t going to run itself and I’m only here to help with the delivery, so until then, I’ll be napping on the couch in the back. Wake me up when the truck gets here.”
Before you had a chance to respond, Keishin gave you a pat on the head and disappeared into the back room without another word.
You stood in place for a moment, unsure if the fact that he had forgiven you so easily was a relief or not. You didn’t allow yourself to worry too long about that though, because, like Keishin had said, you had work to do and the store wasn’t going to run itself. And, if your memory served you correctly, you had some sweeping to do in the back corner.
For about two hours, you fell back into your normal workday routine, completely forgetting about the events of the previous night or the fact that Keishin was napping in the back. That was, until you saw the delivery truck pull up in front of the store and remembered you had been given the task of waking the sleeping man.
Heading into the back, you moved slowly and quietly even though it didn’t matter if you woke Keishin since that was what you were supposed to do anyway.
“Keishin,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. “The delivery truck is here.”
Of course, he didn’t even budge at that. Nervously, you stepped closer to the couch, unable to ignore the fact that Keishin looked completely different when he was asleep. The usual frown or cocky grin he sported was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t seem as intimidating when his eyes were closed and his breathing was so slow and rhythmic.
“Keishin.” You reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder like he had done to you earlier and shook him slightly. Still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you were unsure what to try next aside from shouting right in his face. If only he had warned you he was a heavy sleeper.
Deciding to try one last thing before you resorting to screeching, you leaned closer to his ear, planted your hand on his chest—a brief memory of how you had touched him last night flashing in your mind—and shook him once more while you spoke. “Keishin, the delivery truck is here,” you said, not whispering but also not being too loud.
Thankfully, the mixture of shaking him and speaking directly into his ear seemed to finally do the trick and his eyes shot open. Immediately, you jumped back, not wanting him to be weirded out by how close you were to him.
Eyes travelling up to meet yours, Keishin yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Truck’s here?” he clarified.
“Yeah, it just arrived,” you told him, waiting for him to get up. “You should have told me you were a heavy sleeper. I was about to scream or pour water over you or something.”
Keishin cringed at the thought of that. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t. Next time, just pinch my nose or tickle me or something . . . anything but water.”
“Next time?” you asked. “You plan on taking naps on the couch often?”
“It’s my favourite place to nap. You should try it sometime,” he said before heading for the door. “Come on, let’s get this delivery over with. Try to learn fast so I don’t have to teach you again.”
“I’ll try my best.”
As you had pretty much expected, the delivery had been pretty straight forward. After helping the delivery man unload all of the boxes into the storage room and signing off on the delivery, the most time-consuming and complex part of the process was taking an inventory of the new supplies, which you picked up on pretty quickly.
Keishin showed you how to mark down the new delivery on the clipboard kept in the storage room and where to input the total count for each item. From there, all you had to do was make sure you had received everything and had the correct number ordered.
“Pretty easy, right?” He glanced at you out the corner of his eye as the two of you worked together at counting the inventory, keeping an ear open for customers in the process.
“Yeah, it doesn’t seem hard. Just time consuming,” you agreed.
“Exactly. We usually get a big delivery like this about once a month, then smaller deliveries throughout the week for more perishable items, as you already know.”
You nodded, quickly becoming lost in the repetitive task of counting and writing down the amount on the clipboard. Weirdly enough, you found that you didn’t actually hate taking inventory; the simple task was actually kind of calming and passed the time effortlessly.
“50,” you muttered under your breath, jotting down the number in the correct box right after you finished counting. When you turned back to start on the next box, you caught Keishin looking in your direction. “What?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, no.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“You,” he responded, quickly elaborating when you shot him a confused look. “Well, more specifically, why you took this job.”
You shrugged as you continued working. “I already told you. I need the money.”
“Right, so you can move out on your own. But why?”
Your hands stopped grabbing items and your mind stopped counting, making you lose track. “Because I’ve been waiting for as long as I can remember to live my own life and now that I have the opportunity, I’m not going to pass it up.”
“But wouldn’t you much rather be going to school? Surely you don’t want to work in a place like this for the rest of your life.”
You sighed heavily. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”
“I’m just curious,” Keishin said. “I want to understand you better.”
“I don’t think you could truly understand unless you experienced the childhood that I did.”
Stopping his work as well, Keishin leaned against the shelf and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try me.”
Rolling your eyes, you accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to give up. “First thing’s first, I’m not saying my childhood was tragic or anything. My parents didn’t beat me. They fed me and clothed me and everything a parent should.” You started, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “I was just never allowed to live my own life or make my own decisions. I ate what my parents wanted me to eat, I wore what they wanted me to wear. I took the classes they wanted me to, I was friends with who they thought would make a good friend. They went overboard on trying to get me to do what they thought was best for me. I was never old enough or mature enough to know what I really wanted. I lived in a controlling dictatorship.”
“What about soccer?” Keishin asked, proving that he had actually remembered the conversation the two of you had had on your first day at the store. “You told me you used to play.”
You smiled fondly at the thought of your high school soccer team. “That was the only thing I ever got to pick for myself . . . and it took months of convincing, and in the end, I was only allowed to continue because I was good at it. The fact that I genuinely enjoyed it never came into account for my parents.” Your smiled faded slightly. “Sometimes they even managed to drain the fun from that as well, but I refused to let them ruin it for me because it was the only thing I had that was mine.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Every day . . . but this is more important right now.”
Keishin was silent for a few moments while he processed everything you had said. “Sounds like everything needed to have a purpose.”
“Pretty much. If something had no chance of providing success in the future, it was a waste of time.”
“So the plan is to work so you can afford your own place, then go to school next year? How are you going to afford school?”
“Well, if I had followed my parents plan for me and started working toward a law degree, they would have paid for it. But since I’ve decided to do my own thing now, I’m just lucky they haven’t kicked me out of the house yet . . . so I guess I’ll have to get a scholarship or apply for student loans. I’ll basically be scraping by, so I’ve applied for a bunch of community colleges and I’ll go from there I guess.”
Fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, Keishin lit one before sticking it between his lips. “What do you want to do?”
You laughed slightly at that. “I have no idea. I was never allowed to have hobbies or interests, so I don’t even know what I like. I just know what I don’t like. If I could do anything though, I’d apply for the University of Tokyo. They have a great soccer program. I just want to play soccer again.”
Keishin smiled. “Just soccer?”
“For now, yeah. I’ve learned that I’ll have to take life step by step, so that’s the first major goal. I’ll probably take some first year classes and see what I like and go from there. I think it’s okay to not have a set-in-stone plan sometimes . . . after all, this is the first time in my life I’ve never had my future planned out for me. It’s kind of exciting . . . scary, too, but exciting.”
Keishin sighed contently as he watched your eyes light up when you talked about the things you wanted to do in the future. “Can I ask you something?”
You nodded. “Sure.”
“So what was the point of what happened last night?” he inquired. “And, while we’re at it, the past few weeks as well. How do I fit into this grand plan of yours?”
You felt your heart pound against your chest. “I thought we were forgetting about last night?”
“We are,” he assured you. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just curious, is all.”
You thought for a moment, unsure how to phrase exactly how you were feeling. At first, you were inclined to take him up on his offer to not answer, but after how nice he had been to you today, you felt you owed him at least that.
“Originally, I was in a pretty messed-up head space and I wanted to use you to get back at my parents,” you told him truthfully, “. . . but after last night, I did some serious thinking and realized that wasn’t the case. What I really want is to prove to my parents that not everything that is different or ‘not according to plan’ is bad. You have an . . . alternative look about you,” you tried to phrase that as respectfully as possible, causing Keishin to chuckle, “but you’re not a bad person or, despite my harsh words last night, a burnout. You coach volleyball for high school kids and you help out at your family’s store and even though I’ve been pretty horrible to you, you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”
You paused, unsure if you should say the last part or not. “I don’t know, I just think that maybe if they met you, they might realize that I’m capable of making good choices for myself even if it doesn’t fit their predetermined mold of my life.”
“You think I’m a good choice?” he asked, taken aback by your honesty.
“Yeah.” You eyed him while he took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke spill from his lips. “Maybe not the nicotine addiction part, but hey, no one’s perfect.”
Keishin chuckled before putting his smoke out. “Okay, I’ve got a deal for you.”
You cocked a brow at him. “What?”
“If I pretend to be your boyfriend and help you fix things with your parents, you have to apply to the University of Tokyo and follow your dream of playing soccer.”
You were thoroughly perplexed. “Both conditions of that deal only really benefit me. What do you get out of it?”
He just shrugged. “Nothing.”
You scoffed. “Well, as generous and sketchy as that sounds, there is no way I would be able to afford the University of Tokyo on my own and I don’t think any amount of ass-kissing could make my parents agree to pay for me to go there to play soccer and figure life out.”
“Hey, one step at a time, right?” He used your own words against you.
You contemplated his offer for a moment. “You’re really okay with that? Even though you get nothing but more work out of it?”
“I suggested it, didn’t I?”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You’d really pretend to be my boyfriend? Even though I’m just some rebellious kid?”
“Your opinion of me changed,” he pointed out. “Why can’t my opinion of you change too?”
“Fair enough,” you conceded. “Well, if you’re absolutely positive you won’t regret it when you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll happily accept your deal. Thank you.”
Keishin turned back to the stack of boxes and promptly returned to the task at hand. “You’re welcome.”
You watched him work and quietly hum to himself while he did so. This time, it was his turn to catch you staring. “What?” he looked over at you.
“I just didn’t peg you for such a softy is all,” you joked.
“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed at you. “Just don’t fall in love with me or anything, kid.”
You smirked. “Whatever you say, old man.”
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#ukai keishin#ukai keishin x reader#ukai#lostinthewiind#piss off your parents#x reader#reader insert#reader imagine#song fic#part 3#haikyuu smut#series
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