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#i think on his chest but i've never drawn it
sodalite-lite · 7 months
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Small redraw. ignore the misspelling I was thinking ahead and don't have an eraser </3
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aeb-art · 4 months
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i was trying to make up side characters for @8um8le's space friends and thought "every show needs a grump"
i'm not gonna finish this though, so y'all can have it now o7
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vidavalor · 8 months
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The pub scene is even funnier when you consider that poor Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has likely had this longtime pash on Aziraphale and, like everyone on Whickber Street, he has no idea who exactly The Ginger Goth With The Old Car is. He knows the prevailing theory is mafia but Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has seen Ginger Goth hanging around Mrs. Sandwich and her "Sandwich Shop" and also around the bookshop a bit and also some naked guy was also at the bookshop recently, so... what's the likeliest conclusion drawn by Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets? That the old bookseller's lonely and paying for it.
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He sees them come into the pub and thinks Aziraphale is classy like that and is taking the sex worker for a drink first or maybe that's part of it-- he's gone the whole 'boyfriend experience' route. Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets sees Aziraphale with that chest stroke of that Thin Dark Duke he's paying and while Mr. Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets, just FYI) isn't here to judge and gets it as he's lonely, too... and while he does think the bookseller picks some hot ones... he wants to give Mr. Fell the real thing. The kind of love you can only get between two middle-aged, still-sorta-closeted queers like they are. He'll be someone the bookseller can talk to and find some genuine chemistry with, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets will be, so he decides to shoot his shot and knows the bookseller is skittish from their past interactions, so he goes for the meeting option. He'll have to come over to drop off the chairs, of course. Give them an excuse to talk more, alone, when Mr. Fell is not, erm, entertaining.
And poor Mr. Brown--President of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets is-- fine, upstanding, boring as all holy fuck fella... He's met by Crowley coming over with drinks and a greeting that says this is neither the first time, nor, he doubts, will it be the last that he's had to Husband the bookseller but again, Mr. Brown of Oh, You Know By Now thinks this is a bit, so he's not intimidated.
"I was just absolutely hitting on him for real, unlike you," is what he basically told Crowley when explaining what they were chatting about.
And Crowley's like lol you got him flustered enough to host this meeting. Good on you, Mr. Whoever the Fuck You Are from Whatever Shop You Run. Look at you *go*. 😍 I've got a new favorite human, Aziraphale.
He's all "you astonish me" to Aziraphale, teasing him like you're leading the poor, balding bastard on, angel. I know it's hard for you to reign in your divine sex appeal but you should maybe try. His heart is only human, after all.
Mr. Brown still thinks Crowley's a sex worker though so he doesn't give up and is all like remember, Mr. Fell, our date is right after work on Thursday in a group setting to set you at ease but I'll see you first to set it all up because I want you and I want to make sure you know I'm not just here for the business meeting.
Crowley: That's it-- I'm adopting you, Ballsy Mr. Carpet. I like your style. But you'll never wear my angel down. We've been married for 6,000 years. I am definitely up for saving you from some demons on Thursday though and making it rain on you and literally any fruity, single shop owner in the greater metro area next season. You're on the deck after my shop lesbians. Now piss off, Mr. Barnes. We haven't been to the pub in ages and you're in my seat.
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anantaru · 9 months
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neuvillette eats pussy to distress
cw. oral (fem! receiving), you're a lil bratty, fem! reader
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what comes out of your mouth are nothing more than short-planted whimpers, little, hesitant cries, and then a filthy moan of neuvillette's name, but you tell yourself that you do not want to give him that certain satisfaction he had longed for all night— and you sneakily trace along his scalp with your trembling fingers, he hisses when you tug on his roots, then whines into your pussy when you do it again, eyes growing wide at your fine-drawn pursue.
"there certainly is no need to hold yourself back for me." he suddenly claims and it has you avert your eyes, the way he had phrased it was almost a little too detached and apathetic to your own liking— almost as if he didn't take this whole thing serious and believed that he gave in, just for a second, in one of the lewd, obscene pleasures of human kind, before adding, "because you do, in fact, hide your voice."
"am i correct?"
"i don't!" sweet sweet liar, because you do, you've been blocking them out this entire time, "maybe you're not as good— fuck, as you think you are!"
the man laughs, a little aloof, and evidently, neuvillette was aware on what he was capable of doing to you and his fingers are cool and persistent in fucking in and out of your little hole, and despite it being only a digit, not even fully in, your toes curl and your legs clasp around his head when he adds his tongue, it has your sticky slick pooling between the folds of your cunt and merging with his spit, fuck, acting as if he didn't bring you unrecognizable pleasure was harder than you originally thought.
especially since he appeared to be exceptionally fatigued and certainly used your body as a way to distress from day to day work— for him, this type of work life balance was the most sufficient one.
neuvillette slides his warm tongue up and down your pussy in long swipes when you shiver at the mere sight of him doing so, feeling like everyone in the giant building can hear what's happening to you right this second, more so know who is pulling those lewd noises out of your sore throat.
your glowing eyes, in a sudden haste, spring open when you feel how he languidly spits on your cunt, once, twice— so you're wetter for him, he claims you taste better that way, lubricating you so he can drag his tongue into you faster, just like you so desperately wanted him to, yet in secret, you'd never tell him that— while, the chief justice most definitely preferred it if you're adequately messed up whenever he comes to see you, your exposed core luminous, hole clenching around his digits and you swear you can feel him smirk faintly, although he wasn't a man of great emotions, while proceeding in this particular task, he couldn't possibly suppress this feral, animalistic desire housing deep inside his chest, rumbling and aching for a possibility to escape.
the twist in your stomach builds up quickly, quicker than you initially had anticipated, "how— how, fuck!" you manage to say, "how are you so fucking good at this?" and your fingers find themselves wounding in his hair, holding onto him for your dear life when a tremor of cold shivers crossed over your figure when he groans into your pussy by the nature of your rough tugs on his scalp, his breath hot and wet when it ghosts over your soaked folds. 
"there they are." he moans into your cunt, not giving a single flying fuck if his face was slicked up in your juices, as said, he adored making a mess, "those noises i've been looking forward to."
at last, when he adds another finger into your hole and curls them up, the tightened thread in your stomach snaps in half and you shake violently while pinned down with one of his arms strongly locked over your stomach, with a cry of his name, that you originally preferred to stay hidden in your throat, your loud moans tumble and bounce from your lips to his ears as you cum all against his mouth so he could finally taste you.
but the long-rooted waves of your pleasure have not dissipated as he continues to flick his tongue over your clit, your slick by now basically coating the entire lower half of his face, his eyes fixated on nothing but your addictive, more so intoxicating expressions— you knew neuvillette wouldn't stop, there's no such thing as leaving a case half finished, he had a habit of prolonging your orgasm until you're overstimulated to the hilt, always, whenever he had you under him, it's his way of fucking you, until you're nothing but satisfied, such as he was whenever a trial ends with no complications.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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fettuccin-e · 7 months
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It's Never Easy
Kinktober Day 24: Edging
Tags: Steven Grant x Reader x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley, yeah that's right they're all here baby, afab!fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), unprotected piv (wrap it irl I am begging you), edging, crying during sex, orgasm denial (w/c: 1.3K)
A/N: Yeah that's right the boys are back in town, and by that I mean all three moonboys. They're all little shits and I adore them (For Kinktober, I've been using this list from flightlessangelwings!)
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You think that you’re finally wearing Steven down.
He’s been at this for hours now, you think, burying himself between your thighs and losing himself like he never wants to leave. He’s fucking incessant when he gets you like this, licking at your cunt until his eyes have glazed over and he’s grinding slowly into the bedsheets. He moans when you tug at his hair, the vibrations from it going up your spine.
“Fuck, Steven, I need-” you moan, your chest heaving with the way Steven sucks your clit into his mouth, licking at you in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your hips hump into his face, chasing the sensation. “I can’t, fuck, I’m gonna- think I’m gonna-”
He pulls his face away just like that, watching as you shout, your hips grinding into nothing but air as your pleasure and your orgasm dissipate. He holds your thighs apart and just looks at the way you tremble, his eyes wide and a blush high on his face.
“That’s it, darling, so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, and you grind your teeth together. This is the third time, the third fucking time, he’s done that. Gotten you so close, your body locking up and threatening to fall off that precipice, before he pulls himself away, leaving you with nothing.
It’s fucking maddening, and Steven just watches, squeezing at his thick cock as it aches between his legs.
“Please, Steven,” you whine, high pitched and needy. “Need you to let me cum, fuck, please let me cum.” You sound so pitiful, so desperate, that Steven’s eyes soften at your begging.
“Oh, I know, love,” he murmurs, sliding a thick finger up the seam of your cunt. “Need it so bad, yeah? It’s okay, darling, I’ll let you cum,”
You nearly sob with relief when he leans back down and sucks your clit into his mouth, sinking two fingers into your entrance. He’s relentless, playing with your clit with his tongue, nudging the tips of his fingers into a little spot inside of you that makes you want to cry. Your orgasm surges back up inside you without warning, and you can’t fucking breathe.
You brace yourself for him to do it again, to pull away when you start babbling, “Gonna cum, fuck, please let me cum,” between heaving moans. But Steven doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow down, and you start to smile with the fact that he’s actually going to let you have it this time without pulling away.
Except, he does pull away.
You cry out as Steven’s head shoots up from between your legs again, but you can only watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head, his jaw clenched.
Marc looks up at you from his place between your thighs, a cocky little smirk playing at his lips. 
“Oh baby,” he says, and his voice is gruff, dark, so unlike Steven’s. “You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” You gasp for air as Marc sinks a third finger into you, and he grins. 
“So pretty when you’re almost fucking there, sweetheart,” Marc murmurs, and he leans close to brush his lips against yours in a whisper of a kiss. “Whining, pleading for us to just let you cum. Steven was going to let it happen, put an end to your misery, but me?” He fucks his hand into you so hard that you choke on a moan. “I like seeing you squirm.”
And the process starts over again.
Marc fucks you on his fingers without a hint of remorse, driving into your g-spot in violent, debilitating thrusts that have you reeling.
You get so close so many fucking times, over and over and over again, your body drawn tight with the overwhelming need to cum. You beg, plead, gripping the bedsheets so hard that you fear you might tear them. But Marc. Doesn’t. Stop.
Every time he feels it, that tell-tale tightening of your body, hears the way you start to go quiet as you focus on finally falling over that precipice, he pulls his hand out of you without any finesse, any mercy.
Around the third time he does it, you really do start to cry, sobbing for Marc to finally let you cum, that you need it so bad it hurts.
“Can’t- it’s too much, Marc, please, please let me, need it so ba-ad,” you hiccup through your moans, tears bubbling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks.
Marc leans down and kisses them away, cooing at you as he grinds the calloused tips of his fingers into the most sensitive parts of your cunt.
“Okay, sweet girl, I’ve got you, come on,” he murmurs, his thumb coming up to press against your clit, grinding little circles into it and sending you fucking flying. “Don’t cry, baby, I’ll take care of you.” 
“Thank you, thank you, thank-” you’re in the middle of thanking him, practically tasting your orgasm on your desperate tongue, when Marc’s eyes roll back, and his hand rips away from your cunt.
“No,” you whine, choking on your tears as your body quakes beneath his, “no, no, please.” You’re practically hysterical, desperate for it after so fucking long, after Steven and Marc have shredded you apart.
“Princesa,” Jake grins down above you, unmistakable with his dark gaze and a smile that is purely fucking primal, feral. “If you think you’re going to cum on anything but my cock, you’re wrong.”
And you can only gasp at Jake notches the thick, leaking head of his cock against your gaping entrance, and shoves himself in to the hilt.
You scream, your back bending into an obscene arch as he fills you up so perfectly. 
“Jake, Jake,” you sob through labored breaths, “I can’t, it’s been, I don’t know how long it’s been, please, please. I need to cum, fuck, ‘m begging.”
“Oh, my beautiful girl,” Jake croons, “Of course you can.”
Of course you can. Like you’ve had permission all along, like it was that easy. Like you haven’t been broken apart by each of them, over and over again, reduced to a sobbing, shaking mess beneath their body.
He’s only one, two thrusts in, but you’re coming anyway, screaming with it as tears flow down your cheeks. Your entire body locks up with it, your cunt squeezing tight around Jake’s cock in rhythmic pulses that have him clutching painfully at your hips. Sweet, sweet relief fills your body, like water in a desert, the sun after a hurricane. It’s fucking bliss, incomparable, absolutely debilitating.
“Mierda, that’s fucking beautiful, fuck,” Jake growls, and he presses into your body so deep you think you can feel it in your stomach, and pumps you full of his cum. “Good girl,” you hear him mutter, “Good fucking girl,” before darkness grows into the edges of your vision and quickly swallowing it whole, leaving you to fall into pitch black oblivion.
When you finally come back to yourself, you feel warm, safe. It’s no surprise to you, since you usually feel that way in this flat, in this bed.
“I didn’t fucking kill her, Steven,” you hear Jake growl. “She’s breathing just fine. And don’t act innocent, you and I both know that you worked her just as hard as Marc and I did.”
“And you all better pamper me,” you croak, still refusing to open your eyes, “As soon as I take a nap.”
“Hermosa,” you hear Jake breathe, and you feel his lips press to your forehead. You crack open your eyes to meet Jake’s gaze, his eyes wide and more worried than he usually lets on. “Are you alright? You- you passed out.” he asks, and you giggle.
“Never been better,” you murmur. “But any of you try that shit again, it’s no sex for a fucking year.”
Jake grins in that roguish way that makes your heart flutter. "As if you could resist any of us for that long, mi vida."
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meaningofaeons · 1 year
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ emotionally unavailable
⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 3.3k ⊹ notes - gn!reader (sampo, gepard), fem!reader (jing yuan, you're referred to as 'lady'), reader is emotionally constipated or just kinda stoic as the title suggests, I guess you could say tsundere?? mostly fluff -w- ⊹ part 2 here!
sorry for the delay on new writing!! honestly I've had a bit to do around the house and the inspiration hasn't been inspiring Σ(;Φ ω Φ) if you want to send in a request, feel free! I could use some new ideas ♡(ミ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ミ)ノ thanks for the support!
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⊹ Gepard Landau
You honestly didn't have much to think about the Captain of the Silvermane Guards.
Aside from the due respect and mild admiration that just about everyone in Belobog held for him and his military group, you didn't have much else to say. The two of you had never even spoken.
The only connection you could possibly have to him was via his sister, Serval Landau. She was your friend (a tentative word for your situation, you surmise) and would often have him over at her store.
You also tended to lounge about the Neverwinter Workshop ("hanging out", Serval would call it, but you begged to differ), but you had never really paid him much mind, and you assumed he had paid you the same.
Serval's favorite nickname for you is "lounging stray" due to the way you came in and out as you pleased, staying only for food and rest when it was available.
The most you recall interacting with the imposing man was a hesitant wave when he had entered the shop while Serval was out.
After all, it would have been quite rude to completely ignore him—though, honestly, you never cared much for politeness, so you had always mulled that incident over in your head. Why had you greeted him?
About a week later, you were mildly surprised to see a bouquet of flowers in Serval's hands from Eversummer Florist.
It wasn't exactly an unusual assumption to make that the down-to-earth rock-and-roll enthusiast would have her share of admirers, but they were typically more forthcoming with their affections from what you'd observed.
But then, upon spotting you, she promptly shoved them into your arms, announcing that they had been addressed to you, not her.
You hadn't felt your face shift that much in years, nor had you ever experienced that level of shock before.
"Looks like someone has a secret admirer," Serval touted, tuning her guitar on the side with a smirk playing on her lips. Her tone was drawn out, knowing, as if this were some elaborate prank she was in on.
"Wow, Ball Peonies, even? What an expensive spread! Lucky Y/N!"
You didn't even spare her a glance as you took your usual seat in her workshop, thumbing one of the petals with mildly intrigued contemplation.
In your rush to lounge about the workshop and ignore your friend's loud teasing, you failed to notice Gepard at his sister's side, nor the way his ears turned red and he hurried to hush Serval.
"I don't get it," you murmured at last, both siblings' heads whipping over to you. "I don't talk to anyone. Except you, that is."
"Well, I didn't send them. Sorry, my little stray, but as much as I adore you, it's not in that way!"
You gave Serval an unamused raise of your brow, then huffed, mumbling a 'whatever' as you lay on the windowsill in the corner of the shop.
However, that pair of blue eyes sneakily noted that your attention was still taken with the flowers, far from your usual routine of pulling out your phone to scroll.
Eventually, you held them on your chest, deigning to stare out the window as you began drifting off into a half-conscious nap. Your rest, however, was awoken by the sound of loud whispering. Serval noticed the unimpressed look on your face and laughed, clapping her hands together before patting Gepard on the back, who looked thoroughly embarrassed. His face was bright red.
"Well, I gotta head out and run some errands! Keep Y/N company for me, huh, Geppie? They can get lonely."
You chose to ignore that last bit, raising your hand and waving at your friend who practically flew out the door.
An awkward silence settled over the room, which miffed you a bit. What did you have to feel awkward about? This had happened before with other people.
Even then, you weren't keen on breaking it. It seemed the Captain had other plans, though.
"Um..." Gepard spoke up from across the workshop, standing just a bit uncomfortably as he shifted from foot to foot. You glanced over your shoulder at him from where you lay, waiting for him to speak. "Sorry about Serval. She can be a bit much."
"I know," you replied simply, unable to meet his eye for some reason. "I'm in here a lot."
"I know," Gepard echoed. Then, his face went back to tomato-red. "Um, I mean, I see you around a lot in here whenever I visit. Not that I'm intentionally staring at you, or anything of that sort! I just notice—"
"It's okay, I got what you meant."
"Right! Right." The Captain shut himself up, thorough mortification making its way back to his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "S-Sorry, uh, for rambling."
"It's fine."
Well, this was getting painful.
You stunned yourself momentarily when you opened your mouth to speak back first.
"So, uh... How's being Captain and everything?" you murmured, almost too quiet for Gepard to hear. When he realized you had spoken first, his face brightened just a bit, though he still appeared to be fighting the humiliation off his face from his earlier verbal blunder.
"Well, how much would you like to hear about?"
You shrugged. "Anything, I guess. Got any cool stories from the front lines?"
The blonde man smiled, taking the chance to tentatively move closer, pulling over Serval's stool and taking a seat.
"Well..."
About ten minutes later, Serval had decided to spare her poor brother from any more awkwardness, completely sure that the workshop would be thick with silence due to his bashfulness and your nonchalance.
To her surprise, though, she heard muffled voices from within. Serval opened the door as carefully and quietly as she could, peeking her head in just enough to see a sight she never thought she'd see.
You were smiling, even laughing a bit, engaging in conversation about Gepard's duties and your own daily activities (even if there were little of those) from your place on the sill. Her brother seemed to be enjoying himself too, gesturing with his hands as he talked up his own underlings' achievements in battle.
The eldest Landau watched for only a moment longer before shutting the door softly.
"I should go get something to eat... give them a little space."
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⊹ Jing Yuan
You liked to call your relationship to the General of the Luofu strictly professional at most.
To call it anything more, in your mind, would be disrespect of the highest order to the man who has defended the fleet for centuries.
Besides, you didn't know if you were exactly capable of anything beyond that. Even your limited friends agreed that you were just about as stoic as one could get.
You frequently heard of their debates with other workers within the Seat of Divine Foresight even as you worked—who was more difficult to approach, you or the General himself?
You scoffed to yourself whenever your so-called "friends" argued that you were, in fact, harder to speak to.
What's so wrong with being professional? If anything, you should be telling them off for gossiping in the workplace.
Still, you couldn't exactly argue with them.
Being the right-hand of the General was enough for you to learn his mannerisms even over a short time, though now, after serving at his side for several decades, you could confidently say he was far less intimidating than everyone made him out to be.
Not that you cared, of course. Strictly professional, you told yourself. His mannerisms had nothing to do with you unless they affected work.
Even with your indifference, though, the General was being... odd lately.
Jing Yuan let out an unabashed yawn as he slumped into his chair, tugging at his hair as he polished off the last of his paperwork.
For once, you thought to yourself with a huff of amusement, going through your own papers at an impressive speed. Read, approve or deny, sign, move on.
Considering he hadn't skimped on his own work, there was no real reason for you to be giving yourself early onset carpal tunnel as you typically did, but you figured it would be best to finish the work as soon as possible anyhow.
It meant less work tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, for not only you but the other Luofu staff as well.
"...ey."
Your brain tuned out all other noise as you moved past yet another proposal, flicking to the next page of your increasingly shrinking stack.
"Lady Y/N. Hello?"
You ignored the growling within your stomach. After this is done, you thought to yourself, I'll treat myself to a meal at home.
"Lady Y/N."
You jumped nearly ten feet out of your seat at the low voice whispering in your ear, clapping a hand over the side of your head as red-hot mortification set in. You glanced to your side to spot the culprit—none other than your General, Jing Yuan.
Had he just whispered into your ear?! The feeling of his warm breath still lingered.
"General!" you shouted, taking a deep breath as you tried to reel back your attitude and present yourself with decorum, as always. "I am working on these proposals, so if you could please refrain from pulling pranks, it would be much appreciated."
Jing Yuan gave you a wry smile, raising his hands innocently.
"Is part of your job description not answering to me?" he asked unfeignedly, golden eyes twinkling. "I called your name about ten times."
"Well, yes, but..." You raised a brow a moment later. "Surely not ten. I heard my name a total of twice."
"So you were listening." You heaved a sigh. Ever stubborn, he was. "Does that mean you were consciously ignoring me? My, the gall, Lady Y/N."
"Not at all, General," you assured. "Only absorbed in my duties. Now, do you need something of me?"
Jing Yuan tapped his chin, settling into the seat next to you and stretching out. He didn't get too comfortable, though, you discerned. Was he planning to head out for the night?
"Well, yes, I suppose I do. I'm sure you'll only listen if it's a direct order from me, after all."
"Of course, General. I am at your beck and call." He chose to ignore the edge of sarcasm in your voice as you resumed your proposals, trying to finish as many as you could before he announced his task.
"Lady Y/N, I'd be delighted if you would join me for a meal. Anywhere of your choosing, and it will be my treat."
"Right, of course. It will be done, General," you mused half-heartedly, before your froze in your tracks, hand stilling midway through a signature. "...Wh—"
"Fantastic. Then I will await you at the door," Jing Yuan smiled again, and you felt yourself welling up with exasperation at the cockiness displayed in it. "Please don't keep me waiting too long, Lady Y/N. Those proposals can always wait one more day, but I am short on time myself."
You were about ready to protest, dropping your pen as you nearly rose to your feet. Your face was hot.
"General, I—!"
"You wouldn't think of backing out after agreeing so openly, would you?" the white-haired man teased, and then, after contemplating for a moment, he held out a hand. "In fact, why don't we depart right now? Just so I can be sure you won't get absorbed in doing more advance work."
He had completely trapped you. You furrowed your brow in disbelief, and then heaved a deep, long sigh. Finally, after leaving him to stand and await your decision for just a few moments longer, you took his hand.
"Very well. But General, if I may..."
"Of course, my dear."
You flushed again, but remained steadfast in your words.
"To make up for this trickery, please do not skip out on your paperwork again."
Jing Yuan's low, rumbly laughter caused you to look away, lest your feelings show on your face. He still did not let go of your hand.
"I suppose that is only fair. You have a deal, Lady Y/N."
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⊹ Sampo Koski
You would be completely remiss to allow anyone to refer to you and Sampo as acquaintances, much less friends.
Although the two of you had grown up fairly close, he allowed you no clemency from his constant scams.
It turned into more of a game for him as time passed, though—your natural stoicism and good head on your shoulders didn't allow any of his jabs or tricks to pull through.
That was perhaps what kept him stuck like glue to your side all these years, though... The fact that you were the one person he couldn't quite swindle.
Not that he actually wanted to, anyhow.
As much as Sampo was a slimy businessman in the eyes of pretty much everyone, he didn't seek a profit from someone as close as you. Well, not unless he did you a favor first, of course, but that's basic reciprocation.
You, on the other hand, found yourself perplexed as of late.
Sure, you had known Sampo for practically your whole life, but getting close to someone or being close by birth didn't make you any less inclined to cut them off if they interfered with your life to a degree that you found to be annoying.
You enjoyed the predictable, the mundanity of your daily life working as a trainee doctor under Natasha. You didn't need anyone in your life who might throw a wrench into the ordinary you currently enjoyed.
So why was Sampo the exception?
It was a fairly typical, ordinary, boring evening when you walked into the clinic—12am sharp, just as Natasha had requested of you. You were frankly quite lucky that she didn't ask more of you, but you supposed she was already pushing her own ability to ask favors of you by requesting you watch the overnight patients while she rested.
You didn't mind, of course. You'd always been a bit of a night owl, especially with the somewhat perpetual darkness of the Underworld thanks to Belobog looming over top of you.
Not to mention, you and Sampo had always spent most of your time together in the evenings anyways, the nighttime routine well suited to both of your sleeping schedules.
You felt a twinge of annoyance shoot through you at the thought of the blue haired man, and quickly placed a hand to your forehead between bandage changings for the patient on the table.
There he was again. Sampo, Sampo, Sampo!
Though you could usually push him out of your mind without a second thought, it was beyond you why he was suddenly popping into your brain more nowadays.
Sometimes it was a mere, 'I wonder what Sampo is up to right now. Not more trouble, I hope.'
Sometimes it was something more bordering worry, and those passing thoughts irritated you the most. What did you care? If he got hurt, it would likely be justified in the wake of one of his scams.
You could rationalize those ideas with the notion of not wanting more work at the clinic should he get injured, but even that was weak. Sampo deigned to avoid Natasha for his own wounds, not wanting to burden the leader of Wildfire, likely more out of fear than actual selflessness.
Still, though—
"Heeeey, Y/N! Miss me?"
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
"What do you want, Koski?" Your tone was flat, not even sparing him a glance as you moved to your next patient. Changing bandages again, a simple routine that could hopefully keep your mind occupied this time.
"So cold..." You could hear the beginnings of a pout on his lips, finding yourself sighing irritably. "I came to see you, after all!"
Your hands paused for a moment, stilling. A minute tremble in his voice. You whipped your head around to focus your sharp eyes on him, and he winced back, his typical happy-go-lucky smile faltering.
"H-Hey, what's the matter? Helping Miss Nat out with some late night patients aga—"
"Show me," you ordered, finishing the bandage you were currently on and standing up, moving towards Sampo with your arms crossed. He backed up, hands raised in surrender.
"Whaddya mean, I'm— Ouch!"
The conman couldn't help the yelp he let out when his back made contact with the wall, wincing painfully as his wound hit the hard surface. You raised a brow, unimpressed.
"Shirt off, Sampo Koski. Now."
"Woah, woah, at least take me to dinner first!"
Your glare worsened into something stormy as you pointed at the chair nearby.
"Sit down, shirt off, now. Don't make me repeat myself again."
With the face of a wounded puppy, Sampo slunk over to the chair, doing as you asked. He hissed through his teeth as the cloth of his outerwear dragged against the wound, the layers giving way to a deep trio of gashes on the skin of his back. Even with all your medical training, you found yourself cringing at the sight.
"So, Doc, what's the prognosis?" the man laughed weakly, still trying with his jokes even through his pain.
When you remained quiet, his smile fell, and he turned to look at you. If it were anyone else, you might've mistaken that frown for concern.
"Y/N? You... okay?"
"Be quiet," you huffed out at last, grabbing your rolling table of medical supplies and bringing it around, pulling out a chair as you began to inspect the wounds. "What was it this time?"
"Ah, you know, same old, same old! Just some disgruntled robots, not too keen on letting me make a profit with their buddy's parts!"
"You're an idiot."
The usual Sampo would've shot back with some witty or flirty one-liner that was sure to earn him a smack over the head, but when he heard the slight tremble to your voice, he decided it'd be best to keep his mouth shut for now.
"This'll sting. Don't shout, or you'll wake the other patients."
He bit his lip, expecting a harsh serving of antiseptic, but your hands were... gentler this time. You tenderly cleaned the wound with a water-soaked cloth, and though it did sting a bit, it was far nicer than your usual tough treatments from the ire he earned getting injured all the time.
Soon after, he felt you gently patting the wound down with a soft towel, bandages following soon after that you reached around his torso to wrap around him.
Then, you reached for the pack of painkillers.
Sampo was quick to laugh nervously, pushing the pack away when you held it out to him along with a glass of water.
"Hey, hey! Thanks, Y/N, but I really shouldn't be using Miss Natasha's painkillers. Besides, with how sweetly and tenderly you just patched me up, I'm feeling better already!" he fake-swooned, clasping his hands together like a maiden in love to ham up his act.
You were far from impressed.
"You're a bad liar, Sampo Koski," you scoffed, shoving the water and pills past his defensive hands. "Take it. I can't convince you to stay here and actually rest for a change, so it's the least you can do."
When he still looked apprehensive, you swallowed your pride, lowering your gaze and averting your eyes as your face went just the tiniest bit pink.
"...For me."
Sampo honestly thought he misheard you for a moment, but he finally, hesitantly, took the medicine you offered. You led him over to the door, and he laughed breathlessly, finally giving you another smile as he shrugged his shirt and coat back on.
"All right, all right. I'll get out of your hair, and take these. Just for you."
The conman cackled and ran all the way down the alleyways as you shouted after him, fist raised. Once he had disappeared, though, you let it fall to your side, sighing again.
This time, there was a hint of fondness... but that was something else you would be remiss to admit to.
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hannieehaee · 7 months
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18+ / mdi
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content: friends to lovers, pussy drunk mingyu (metaphorically), smut, f reader, dry humping, pining, sub!reader, etc.
wc: 840
masterlist
bestfriend!mingyu who's been crushing on you since you met but you were dating someone at the time so he pushed his feelings aside and befriended you instead
now that you had been broken up for a while, mingyu had a constant feeling in his chest urging him to make a move or at least try to get with his pretty best friend. the only problem was he was terrified of ruining your friendship.
little did he know the reason you broke up with your ex was because you couldnt stop thinking about mingyu. his sweet personality, the way he treated his family (he was always so so nice to his parents and sister), how caring he was with his friends, how respectful he was to his staff, how tall and handsome he was, how tenderly he always held you, how much you'd love for that tenderness to turn into something more.
you and mingyu were both stuck in a catch 22, unknowingly waiting for the other to make a move despite being completely incorrectly certain that the other did not like them back. until the dam finally broke.
"jesus christ" he exhaled against your ear, bare chest pressed up against yours.
it had been a regular hang out with completely innocent intentions (he swears !!) but you just looked so pretty that day and you were sitting so so close to him, he couldnt help but be a little extra drawn to you today.
it started with sitting a little closer than usual. now that you were single, the touchiness between you had gone up quite a bit, allowing for mingyu to finally indulge in your touch as he'd always wanted.
having been sitting closely on the couch, gracing each others hands at times, it was easy for mingyu to wrap his arms around you, and much easier for you to scoot and take a seat on his lap (after all, you were besties, right?).
you're not sure who started it, but you had found yourself guiding his hands under your loose shirt, allowing him to run his fingers up and down your abdomen, clearly warming up for something more.
in a very predictable turn of events, his hands ended up groping your bare breasts under your shirt, making you exhale at the warm and gigantic touch of his hands.
one thing led to another and you'd found yourself in your current position. almost completely bare with a six foot tall mingyu in a matching lack of apparel on top of you as he dragged the last clothed part of his body against you, rutting right against your clit, causing you to mewl as his head remained glued to your neck, licking and biting softly at it.
"jesus christ," he had exhaled against your ear a moment ago.
"baby, is this okay? are you sure?", he questioned, showing no signs of stopping his movements, even increasing the force behind them.
"y-yes. fuck. more please," you begged fruitlessly, half-aware that mingyu would give you anything you wanted anyway.
as he sped up, you wrapped your legs around his back, attempting to grind against him, obsessed with the drag of his massive size against you.
your high quickly approached. and with this knowledge mingyu sped up, grabbed your legs and wrapped them more securely around his waist as he rutted against you maniacally.
"do you know? do you have any idea how long i've waited?", he rasped against your ear.
'there wasnt a single day where i went to sleep without thinking of you first', he continued. "wishing i could drag this pussy up and down my cock and have you crying as you feel how much i want you."
"is this enough?", he questioned. "it'll never be enough for me. i need you again and again. need to be inside you. need you in my tongue. need to take care of you in every way. gotta take care of my pretty girl, right?", he rambled, rutting harshly against you as you almost reached your breaking point.
moaning and crying under him, you clawed at any part of him you could reach, feeling insanely euphoric at his words and at the heavy drag of his cock against your most sensitive parts.
"g-gyu- fuck pl-please dont stop. fuck. fuck please!", you begged, knowing your end had arrived.
"i wont. fuck. never. im gonna make you cum. and then im gonna bury my face between your legs and make you cry again. gonna make you come over and over so you can be ready to take me. gonna treat you so so good, my pretty thing. gonna love you so good," he sounded exasperated as he himself reached his end inside his boxers, feeling like a horny mess knowing he had much left in him to give.
as you both fell from your highs, mingyu got off the bed and swung your legs around his head, getting ready to give you yet another orgasm that would have you regretting not leaving your ex the moment you met your best friend.
a/n: uhhh once again not proofread im running on fumes atp. if theres any inconsistencies im so sorry </33
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steveshairychest · 1 year
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At exactly 9pm every night, Steve's upstairs neighbour plays his guitar just as Steve is falling asleep. It wouldn't bother Steve if it was a sweet acoustic guitar, he's sure that sound would lull him to sleep, but it's not. It's an electric guitar that screams into the night for at least 3 hours. Sure, whoever it is, is really fucking good but he's causing Steve to lose sleep and it's been going on for weeks now.
It's the night before his big medical exam that Steve decides enough is enough. He needs some fucking sleep. He doesn't even bother putting a shirt on or changing out of his pyjama pants because he really wants the 40 year old man that no doubt lives above him to know just how sleep deprived he is. Steve thinks about knocking politely but decides to bang his fist on the door instead.
Instead of the bearded old retired rock star Steve was expecting to answer the door, a young dude with crazy curls and pouty lips pulls open the door. He's also wearing pyjamas, so Steve doesn't feel too out of place.
The way the guy openly looks Steve up and down causes him to shuffle awkwardly from foot to foot.
"Can I help you?" He drawls and leans against his door frame. Steve eyes are drawn to the tattoos that cover his arms and legs, and it takes the guy clearing his throat for Steve to remember he came here with a mission, not to oggle his apparently hot upstairs neighbour.
Steve folds his arms across his bare chest, trying to hide himself from the guys burning stare. "Uh, yeah, your guitar is really loud, like crazy loud. You play it at the exact time I go to bed every night. Could you maybe turn it down? I live directly below you." He awkwardly points at the floor and shrugs.
The guy, to Steve's shock, seems genuinely sorry when he pushes off the door frame with a soft frown pulling at his lips. "Shit, really? I'm so sorry, man. I'm used to the noise, so I kind of forget how loud it really is." He pulls a piece of hair in front of his face and then quickly drops it, a look of disbelief taking over his face. "I've been working on this song for weeks! Why didn't you say anything sooner?"
An embarrassed flush creeps onto Steve's cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. "I thought you were going to be some scary old metalhead, so I kept chickening out." Steve realises how ridiculous that sounds. He should have just come up the first night it happened.
He laughs, and Steve is mesmerised by the way the laugh causes his whole face to light up and his nose to scrunch. He looks so different, so soft. He leans against the door frame again and gestures to himself. "I'm a metalhead. Are you saying I'm not scary?"
Steve snorts. "Your garfield pyjamas are absolutely terrifying."
He glances down at his pants and t-shirt and curses softly under his breath. "I forgot to put my scary pyjamas on."
Steve's face hurts from smiling so much. This isn't how he expected this encounter to go and he's so glad Robin called him and gave him the courage to actually do it. He would never have met the sweet metalhead upstairs if it wasn't for his best friend bribing him with free food in the morning.
Shit, he's got an exam in the morning.
"I've got an exam tomorrow, so I've gotta go. Thanks for being so understanding and not super scary." Steve gives him his best smile and turns to leave, but a hand shoots out to gently stop him. His hand is cold and rough and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to shiver as he turns back around. "Yes?"
"Would you maybe, uh, like to come to my gig on Saturday? I'm going to play the song that's been keeping you up for the first time." He chews nervously on his bottom lip and hovers in his own doorway, almost like he'll slam the door if Steve reacts negatively to the offer. He grabs something from a small table just inside his door and holds it out to Steve; it's a flyer. "We play at 8."
Steve takes the flyer from his slightly shaky hands and briefly skims it, pretends to think about his answer even though he's already mentally deciding an outfit for the show. "I think I can make it. You have to buy me a drink to make up for all the nights you've kept me awake."
He beams and nods enthusiastically, his hair bouncing. "Yeah, yeah, of course! I'll see you on Saturday then. Oh, I'm Eddie, by the way."
"Steve." They shake hands briefly; the size of Eddie's hands causes Steve's brain to short circuit. This whole interaction has been so surreal. Was Satuday a date? A hangout? Who knows? He's just excited that he'll get to see Eddie again.
"I'll see you on Saturday." Steve says with a shy smile before waving and heading back towards the stairs down to his floor.
"Night, Steve." Eddie calls out.
"Night, Eddie."
For the first time in weeks, the apartment above him is silent when he crawls into bed, but instead of falling asleep like he planned, Steve lies awake trying to figure out what on earth he is going to wear to a metal gig 5 days away.
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peachsayshi · 2 months
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₊ ⊹ . ݁ sex worker!suguru geto x rich girl!reader ₊ ⊹ .
⊹ tags: nudity; post-sex; slightly angsty; au
:about: you grew up in a supremely wealthy household, but that came with a price. you've never had control over your own life, and now your father is set to marry you off. distraught by the news, you decide to call your contact for comfort.
:note: I don't know why but I've been thinking about this au a lot recently and I'm completely obsessed. I have so many aus for my faves and really wanted to spend some time exploring them more!
wc: 1,067
"an arranged marriage, huh?" suguru whispers, his sharp eyes dipping to your naked chest while his delicate fingers carefully push the bedsheet further down to your hips.
you inch a little closer into his frame, soaking in the outlines of his chiseled torso and bring one finger to trace little shapes on his broad shoulder. your brows furrow with annoyance, "yeah, you ever heard of the zenin family?"
suguru scoffs, breaking character for only a second. it's something that you've started noticing recently. that he doesn't hold his reactions around you as tightly as he used to. the front of this alter ego that he created has started to falter, but you find yourself drawn to the person existing underneath the mask of the seducer.
you sigh, "my father thinks naoya zenin is a perfect match for me."
an uneasy expression flickers across suguru's face, but he suppresses it before allowing it to linger.
you lift yourself up onto your elbow and rest your head on your palm. "what is it?"
suguru mimics your position, his large hand gliding back and forth over the slope of your hips and waistline. it sends goosebumps all over your body, your mind going back to the first time when you met him in person.
you still vividly remember his reaction. the way his eyes widened, and the quirk of his brow as he addressed you.
"you're young," he blurted.
"we're around the same age," you replied defensively, already feeling insecure for having hired him after you spent weeks watching his videos. you didn't even know about his house calls until you heard it from a source within your social circle. " is this how you greet all your clients?"
suguru boldly checks you out, "my other clients don't look like you..."
over time you learned that he catered to a specific demographic: older divorcees and cheating housewives.
the person you might turn into twenty years from now if this marriage goes through.
a knot forms in your stomach.
"I've heard that naoya..." suguru explains, pinching the pads of his fingers lightly against your flesh before leaning forward to kiss the crease between your brows. "can be a handful to deal with..."
you thread your fingers around his neck, your lips finding his jaw where you return a kiss. "and who told you that?" you murmur, as the weight of suguru's body rolls on top of yours.
a wicked smile ticks at the corners of his lips, and you're staring at his devastatingly handsome face from below. the longer you spent time with him the more you began to wonder about his circumstances.
the same thought constantly crosses your mind time and time again.
suguru could truly be anything he wanted but instead he was here making a killing off of fucking lonely women and making porn videos.
you aren't here to judge his choices, but you can't help but feel puzzled by the situation.
his smile gives you the answer. his source regarding naoya zenin thanks to a client, but suguru has a confidentiality policy and shares nothing about the other women he beds.
you shiver when his mouth meets your neck, his lips sucking along the tender skin that sends goosebumps all over your chest but there's an ache in your heart when you consider that if it wasn't for the signed cheque in your purse, he wouldn't even be here in the first place.
not a single man you've met in the world compares to suguru. not only was he beautiful beyond comprehension, but he had striking charm and was extremely smart. you found yourself enjoying his company beyond physical purposes, and conversations with him turned out to be one of your favorite ways to pass time.
"think we'll still get together when you're a missus?" he teases, his lips trailing lower to your collar bones and hovering just a above your breasts covered with the hickeys that he's left.
the thought of getting married makes you sick.
"do you peg me as a terrible wife? a woman who would happily cheat on her husband?" you question, your voice small and trembling when suguru circles his lips around your hard nipple.
he hums, drawing out a whimper when he nips at the bud lightly.
"no," he answers, his voice dropping an octave and your mind swirls when you contemplate if that strange tone is actually jealousy. he rests his chin on your chest, his inky hair framing his face in a waterfall of obsidian. "I do, however, peg naoya as a terrible husband"
you sink your fingers into his locks. "it doesn't matter who my father chooses, they are all the same. naoya is no worse than the rest. I'm trapped regardless..."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," suguru responds sincerely, the sweetness in his voice the reason why your eyes prick with tears.
you sniffle, using your free hand to wipe away a rogue droplet freely falls down your cheek. suguru softens his expression, adjusting his position so he was laying by your side. he doesn't say anything but draws you into his chest for a hug, enveloping you in his warmth. you try hard not to consider the reality of the situation, and accept the gesture freely as you cuddle against him.
the moment of peace is interrupted by a loud vibration. you and suguru both perk up to stare at his phone buzzing on the side table.
your heart sinks.
another client.
suguru reaches his arm around to grab the phone, and you close your eyes as you inhale his natural scent, trying to soak him in for as long as you can. but to your surprise he simply switches it off, and wraps his arm back around you to return to his position.
"you sure you don't need to take that?" you mumble, trying to play off your disappointment as casually as possible.
"I'm booked out for the rest of the evening," he answers nonchalantly, "there's no reason to respond."
a flutter in your belly sends a tingle all over your skin. "but...your cheque only covers the hours we agreed on..."
two fingers touch the underside of your chin, and suguru tilts your head up so you were both face to face again. "don't worry about it, doll," he consoles, his thumb lightly outlining your bottom lip, "this is on the house."
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allbark-no-bite · 1 year
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Don’t Say Love || Rafe Cameron x reader
summary: you notice Rafe is different in the mornings, softer in someways. Definitely not in others
word count: 2.1k
warnings: 18+ smut, wouldn’t consider anything in here a OBX3 spoiler
author’s note: this one’s pretty short and sweet. enjoy :)
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Propped up only by my own elbow and a tangle of his limbs, I caress his timelessly drawn face. There's a half smile underneath my fingers, and I pass my index finger over his mouth. My finger ventures past his lips, pushing them aside to reveal glossy white teeth. Rafe reels his head back slightly as to ward off my ridiculous ministrations.
"What are you doing?" His tone verges on the rhetorical side, obviously possessing little interest in entertaining whatever I'm up to but willing to amuse me for now. It's the least he could do after being inside me just a few hours ago.
Nevertheless, I am relentless, as with all things in life and when he returns to my reach, rather than answering him, I pursue my venture again. This time he allows it, his lip curling upwards to indulge me further. My finger runs along the slick gloss of his pearly teeth — teeth that have both scraped along the tender skin of my throat and aligned on occasion to remind me of just what made him so attractive. I rather adored his pristinely bleached smile and it's viscous canines.
"I love you," I whisper to him. It means no more than the obscenities that I moaned into his mouth last night as he ground his hips into me. It's not a dramatic proclamation of my affection for him, nor a confession in the slightest. I just—I like him. I like him differently than I have ever liked anyone else.
He breaks into a smile and scoffs, almost laughing as he falls backs onto the mattress. "Don't say that," he admonishes gently.
I bite the bottom of my lip to keep from laughing myself. This whole thing was ridiculous. Turning to catch his gaze again, we smile at each other, lips pressed together to convey what we won't say out loud. Something inside me knows he won't be this way tomorrow. He won't share this same look with me, won't be this gentle or placid again.
The thing is, I would go all in if he let me. Would place all my cards on the table if he said he wanted me to. He needs a four? Sure, I've got a four. What else? I would willingly give him everything.
Laying in his bed together the morning after a party is an occurrence that has become more and more common over the past month. Admittedly a welcome one. We're not a item, probably never will be, but it's nice to think that he's mine for now.
With Rafe, things between us are so utterly simple. I don't think I've ever had so much fun with one person. And it's not even that he's so entirely special or even the love of my life. He's cocky and charming and a bit of a jerk at times, but I like that about him.
Sometimes, while we're laying in the darkness together, he tells me that if he had grown up differently he would be less of a nervous wreck and more honest. I tell him that I grew up mostly alone, in a small little house with my alcohol obsessed father, who was still growing up himself when he became a dad. That nothing was ever enough, but how was I supposed to know the difference? I tell him that his family is alright because at least he has siblings and a father who loves him, even if that love is questionable.
He smiles softly and pulls my hand away from his mouth, kissing the palm of it tenderly. His lips grace the inside of my wrist and warmth spreads through my naked body. I slip my leg over his waist, pulling myself on top of him. The white sheets that have been doing very little to cover our bareness slip further down my waist — I am sure much to his enjoyment. His broad chest expands as he breathes in, and I watch the steady rise and fall of it.
"Quit doing that."
"Doing what?" he asks, his voice still gruff with sleep, wondering what I could possibly be on about this time.
"That panty-dropping smile. It's ridiculous."
Twinkling, his blue eyes gaze up at me, as if storing the image of me to his memory. His billowy white shirt is barley enough to cover the top of my thighs from where I'm straddled over him, pining his hips to the plush mattress. The light coming in from the early morning sun seeps in through the curtains, slowly swallowing everything in his bedroom whole and washing us in gold.
"It worked, didn't it?" he chuffs, lazily sliding a warm palm up my bare thigh. Timidly, he hooks a finger on the edge of the sheet bunched around my waist and tugs it back slightly. Without an ounce of shame, his eyes dip down to indulge in my bareness. "God, you're so fucking sexy," he groans, his head falling back onto the pillow for dramatic effect.
Laughing, I lean down to kiss his puffy lips, and he graciously meets me part of the way. I pull away to press my lips to his chin, and then his jaw, and then his collar bone, spending no more time on the next than the first until I reach his shoulder. This time, I kiss the firm muscle there, lingering to drag my nose along his skin. His scent engulfs me – manly, with the lingering traces of expensive cologne and the musk of sex.
With all the tenderness that I can muster, I attach my lips to the hollow of his throat, close my eyes and breathe him in. I want to remember him. All of him. My tongue smooths across his salty skin, working to soothe the already bruising flesh. Beside my ear, the swallow of his throat echos clearly, but he doesn't budge beneath me. His skin tastes salty and raw, unsullied by the usual cleanly redolence of woody soap and washing detergent. I continue to suck until his taste is tinged coppery, and only then do I release him. The imprint remains after I pull away, the impression red and tender on his throat.
There, in the bruising flesh of his skin, is my only claim to him.
In a way, it is impressive — his charisma. He is so good at giving me nothing at all and making me feel as though I have everything. He breathes my name and it sounds like his religion. I'm an atheist, truthfully, but I have come to believe that religion is mostly subjective anyhow. I'm certain the golden cross around Rafe's neck means very little to him.
His jaw cracks open in a yawn, revealing pink gums and pearly teeth again as he reaches his arms over his head and flexes his legs beneath me. I reach out to graze my knuckles along his jaw, reveling in the barely there bristles and the way the sun catches on them, turning blonde to gold. In the morning light, his eyes shine wet with a combination of bleary affection and sleep.
After stretching his body into wakefulness, Rafe grabs my face in his large hands and draws me towards him, kissing my forehead, then my nose, and then the corners of my mouth. His thumbs caress my cheekbones, petting aside lose strands of hair.
"I've got some things to take care of today," he informs me vaguely while gently removing me from the entanglement of his body. Suddenly he's not underneath me anymore, and I'm left on his pristine mattress alone.
It's my turn to stare as he shuffles around the room. Smiling smugly to myself, I watch as he tugs on a fresh pair of boxers from the floor, the material fitting snuggly around him.
"Yeah?" I hum, trying not to sound too disappointed. "What kinds of things?" I really don't care, just want to ask him to stay a while longer, but I'm not sure I should push my luck.
"Family stuff," he answers mindlessly, effectively putting a stop the the conversation as he turns away. His retreating back gives me a perfect display of his sinewy body as he walks into the connecting bathroom. I wait, listening to the sound of water splash into the sink and Rafe brushing his teeth before I muster up the will to get out of his warm bed.
The title is cold against my bare feet, and I whine at the unpleasantness of the sensation. Immediately seeking the comfort of Rafe's warmth again, I curl around him from behind, my face pressed into his neck. He hums from around his toothbrush, one palm leant against the counter as he scrubs with the other.
Presented with the opportunity in which both of his hands are occupied, my own hand that is splayed across his stomach slides downwards. His blue eyes flicker up to mine in the reflection of the mirror. Teasingly, I cup my hand to palm his crotch.
He's already hard, straining against the thin fabric of his boxers. His nostrils flare, toothbrush still in his mouth as my hand slides back up, fingers slipping under the waistband of his boxers, warming to his skin.
Rafe dips down to the sink to spit and rinse his mouth before straightening, both palms gripping the counter. His chest heaves, muscles sliding over his ribs when I take him in my hand. He's heavy and throbbing. There is nothing deceiving about what's being concealed within the confines of his pants.
"You gotta go?" I ask softly, kissing between his tensed shoulder blades as my thumb swipes over his weeping tip. His hips stutter into my hand at the motion.
Rafe swallows heavy, head dipped down as he shakes it. "No, no," he dismisses, his voice thick. He clears his throat. "If you stop now I'll never get that thing tucked into my pants."
I nearly laugh against his back, pressing my lips against his impossibly warm skin again. His blue eyes narrow at me jadedly through the mirror. Not funny, is what that look means.
I pump him lazily a few times, twisting my wrist as my hand slides up and down his shaft. He's already slick with precum and likely very close to coming. There's an a large portion of it already leaking through the front of his navy blue boxers.
"Fuuuuck, baby," he moans, tucking his nose into his shoulder to get a grip on himself. "Jesus—fuck me."
With a whimper that's a dignified as he can muster, his body jerks when I rub my thumb over the swollen pink head. He's breathing hard at this point, trying to breathe and restrain himself at the same time. He won't let go until I say so.
"Good boy," I murmur softly, my lips attached to his shoulder, the top of his spine — the spine that I'm noticing is becoming less and less ridged with each passing week. With his dad off in Guadeloupe, his posture has lost the intensity that it usually carries. His brow has softened too, and he smiles a bit more often.
“You're a good boy, Rafe," I repeat. He is. He's good to me. He can be a good guy when he wants to be. I think people are so focused on this preconceived idea of him that he just goes with it rather than fighting it.
He whines, with his eyes closed, jaw slack, and head hanging down. I change the pace, alternating between pumping him until he's clinging to the sink and going so slow that his hips buck up into my fist, chasing what I won't give him.
"Please, (y/n)," he finally asks, his voice strained as he pants.
I hum, my body lounging nonchalantly against his back, admiring his ability to keep his composure for so long. He's beautiful like this, golden skin flushed red, chest heaving. So much to be trusted with in my hands.
The moment I give him the okay, he's spilling into my hand, his hot release dripping down my fingers and I'm sure the front of his boxers. He sags against the sink, body limp and boneless as the high of his orgasm fades away.
Smiling privately to myself at his sudden lethargy, I draw my hand away as he gathers himself. There's a crumpled towel on the floor that I use to wipe my hand. I’m not entirely sure it was clean in the first place.
Rafe nabs it from me when I’m done and uses it to clean himself up as well. Then, as if he was not doubled over, receiving a handjob against the sink moments before, he splashes cold water on his face and slips out of the bathroom. Through the doorway, I can see him opening and closing drawers as he searches for clothes.
"Very dignified," I hum watching him tug his pants on out of the corner of my eye. "Coming in your boxers."
"Shut up."
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toji-girl · 3 months
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t. fushiguro
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original ask: TOJI X CRYBABY GIRLFRIEND‼️ toji being an asshole to his wimpy gf and regretting it instantly..?
tags; fem reader + angst with happy ending + fighting + pet names + repost from my old blog
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After a long day of physical work, the only thing that was on Toji's mind was coming home and falling into bed but knew he had to take a shower first to wash away the layer of grime off before getting in the bed.
When you heard the door open you smiled and greeted your boyfriend at the door with an array of facial kisses as you all but melted into his arms causing him to grunt, usually, he loves you being all clingy and all about him but right now he was too tired.
"I need a shower," Toji told you pressing a fleeting kiss to your temple before disappearing down the hallway shedding his clothes not caring about the mess he made as you followed after picking it up.
He expected you to follow him and that only tightened his jaw as he pulled back the curtain with a heavy sigh, one that spoke a weight of pure exhaustion. You kept talking about your day asking about his.
Toji stood under the water watching it circle the drain, his thoughts elsewhere not listening to your gabbing. "Are you even listening? I asked you how your day was baby." Your voice was soft as you peeked your head in the shower to look at him looking at him with pure love.
He turned and looked at you, his face screwed up in irritation. "No, I'm not, can you just shut up for a moment and give me peace? All you do is talk and talk, I've had a long day if you haven't noticed so just leave me alone." His voice was hard as he stared at you, your face filled with hurt as tears gathered in your eyes as you shut the curtain and frowned.
"Shit - I'm sorry babe, I didn't -"
You didn't give him more time to say anything else before you were out of the bathroom with tears streaming down your face, and sure he's snapped at you and vice versa but this time felt different.
The pain was a physical ache that manifested in your belly like a heavy rock as you settled into the bed under the covers hearing the door crack open a few seconds later to reveal Toji clad in his boxers.
"I'm an asshole for speaking to you that way, today was long...but that doesn't give me the right to say what I did, I'm sorry. I'll let you slap me?" He suggested trying to ease the tension that cloaked the both of you.
His footsteps were softened by the carpet as he walked further in to settle on the edge of the bed to peel back the covers to look at you.
Toji knew that ever since you could remember you've been a bit more sensitive than others, crying at movies that weren't sad or even sappy, TV commercials, or seeing a family of animals snuggling.
And he also knew he wasn't good with these types of things, words were not his thing but for you, he was changing his ways and now you were being drawn into his arms, his face nuzzled into your neck.
He dried your tears with his thumbs gazing down at you, his eyes were unreadable. "That was a dick move." You muttered looking away letting him stroke your back with rough fingertips.
"I'm a dickhead at times, I know but I am sorry, I never want to hurt my baby girl." He replied in a softer tone, and you knew he changed, the man you met two years ago, the wall around him was strong and stood fierce but you took it down, brick by brick turning him into a softer man.
You gave into the pull and wrapped your arms around his neck squeezing him. "I love you so much I want to hug your neck with my hands sometimes." You told him causing a chuckle to rumble his chest.
"I love you too and I don't think you're the only one, but you get the first privilege." He teased making you laugh, the air now charged with something else as you both gazed at each other tenderly.
His large hand cupped your cheek bringing your face closer to his to close the distance between your lips. "Let me hear about your day then I'll tell you about mine, but first let me grab something."
You watched as he left only to return with your favorite snacks and drinks before settling back into the bed and pulling you onto his lap to talk about your days and make plans for the weekend.
Toji couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart still at the way he spoke to you, and he knew that you changed him because prior to meeting you hurting people didn't matter to him one bit really but now?
He can't stand seeing you sad or heartbroken, you're his crybaby who he loves so much.
835 notes · View notes
sxtaep · 1 year
Text
THE HATING GAME - JJK
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working together with your biggest competition was not something you saw yourself doing often. but fucking him one late night at office? never in a million years.
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pairing — jungkook x female reader
genre — angst, smut
word count — 7.2k
warnings/tags — lawyer!jk x lawyer!reader, enemies2lovers, dom!jk, sub!reader, swearing, provocation, insults, petty arguing, vague mentions of murder/strangulation, jealousy, teasing, lying, denial, tension x100, improvisation, touching, so much sarcasm, explicit smut, light bondage, grinding, neck kisses, nipple play, tit slapping, begging, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), cunnilingus, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, tongue fucking, dick slapping (face), edging, crying, slapping (like once), spanking, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), light pain kink, finger sucking, angry fucking, creampie, making out, cum eating, post-nut clarity, both very lost and confused by the end.
paired with this edit made by yours truly 🤭
a/n: hello and welcome to jahanara feeding into her office romance fantasies pt98583616 😭 please enjoy this very long and drawn out piece (similar to illicit desire) but more detailed, more descriptive and can be read as a stand-alone.
if you came from tiktok, hello and welcome to the dark side 😁 enjoy the long-awaited lawyer!jk au!
btw this fic has nothing to do with the book/movie called ‘the hating game’ the name just fit this ok 🙄
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“We need to talk,” Jungkook’s voice causes your chest to falter as he enters his office, waiting for you to enter before shutting the door behind you and making home on the seat behind his desk.
“We can’t do this case.”
If you could burst out laughing right now, you would, but this was a professional work environment, “You invite me into your office, distracting me from my own work, just to tell me something I already know?” You make yourself comfortable in the seat opposite his, paying him a fake smile, “I don’t know why you’re panicking, we can easily get out of this. We can just say we have too much on our plate to take on a new case. There, done,” you shrug, leaning back in the seat without a care in the world.
Mr Jeon, your boss, thought it’d be a good idea to pair you up with Jungkook to work on a class case.
Why he’d even make that decision was beyond you. Neither of you got along well, trying too hard to one-up each other, spewing insults back and forth like there was no tomorrow. Failure to work well together in this case, you were both threatened with temporary suspension.
“Yeah, you’re forgetting one thing,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“My dad owns the fucking place.”
Yeah, your boss happened to be Jungkook’s dad, and honestly, it wasn’t such a bad thing. He was treated the same way as the other employees, sometimes a bit worse when it came to you.
You were his favourite employee, the absolute star of his team.
“He’s handed our current cases to another attorney so we can focus on this,” Jungkook groans, getting out of his seat to pace around your office as if he were going through a midlife crisis. He halts after a little dilly-dallying, “We should just take the suspension.”
"Pardon you, but I've got bills to pay, and I can't be having that suspension show up on my job record," you try to reason with him, but Jungkook didn't look very convinced. "Think about it this way…” you trail off, leaving your seat behind your desk to head over to him, standing confident in front of him, “When you're suspended, you're pretty much fired for an unfixed period.”
You were willing to work with Jungkook, just to get this whole thing out of the way, and there was only one way to get him on board.
Provoking him.
“I’m sure the Jeon Jungkook doesn’t wanna get suspended by his own daddy, right?” you taunt him, your voice getting quieter with each word.
Jungkook knew you were messing with him, and hated how you actually got under his skin, but with a defeated sigh, he agrees, “Fine, let’s win this case. How about we work on it over at your place? I’m sure you’ve got no plans for the weekend,” he scoffs, cocking a brow at your overly-confident form.
“I actually have a date this weekend,” you shrug, turning your back towards him ready to take your leave. “We can work on it later tonight, I’m leaving now.”
A date? There’s no way…
Jungkook is quick to rush to the door, blocking you from opening the door just as you reach out for the door knob. His arms were extended out to his sides, stopping you from leaving.
He needed to know who this guy was and why the hell he would go on a date with you of all people. “A date? Someone actually wants to sit and have dinner with you?” he questions, like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “He’s gotta be deaf or blind.”
Now, with shit like this, you’d walk away, but Jungkook rendered you trapped in his office, “Listen you conceited asshole,” your index fingers goes to jab at his chest and you have to force yourself to ignore how built he was under his shirt, “I don’t like you. Never have, never will. We’re all a bit different outside of work but I’ve restricted you from seeing that side of me because you don’t deserve it.”
It was a simple and truthful explanation, you hated Jungkook beyond words, neither of you had a relationship outside of the firm. Your work persona would definitely not attract a guy with how much of a workaholic you were.
You needed this date, as a break from all the hardships these cases brought you.
Jungkook pondered your words carefully. Maybe he was a bit iffy about not having a relationship with you outside of work, he didn’t wanna be just a “work colleague” or that “annoying guy from work. He had way too much pride for that.
“Now if you could please stop hogging the door, that would be great. I don’t think I wanna spend another minute with you in your office.”
“Likewise, Y/N,” Jungkook sneers as he steps away from the door. It doesn't even register to either of you that this could be counted as an argument. How easily you both bumped heads with each other would have to come to a stop now that Mr Jeon was keeping a keen eye on you two.
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As the day comes to night, you were still locked away in your office, reading away at your newly appointed case details and taking brief notes. The details were… gory to say the least, and exceptionally hard to read, but being a lawyer, you’d gotten used to it, having read the worst of the worst during your career. It was pretty much a skill to read such gruesome and ill details of murders, kidnappings and assaults with a straight face.
You were lucky not to be the only one reading up on gore so late at night, Jungkook waltzing through your office without knocking (as he always did) with a cup of coffee in his hand. He doesn’t say a word and instead sets the cup on your desk and takes a seat opposite you.
You thought you were seeing things.
Jeon Jungkook buying you coffee? That’s a first.
You don’t say anything, reaching out for the cup and bringing it close to your lips, about to take a sip, but you stop.
“You didn’t poison it, did you?”
As the man was getting comfortable in his seat, he deadpans, “Seriously? What am I, five?”
“Mmm, you act like it,” you mumble, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of the coffee anyway.
Thankfully, you were still up and alive.
“Have you had a look at the case yet? It’s a lot of information,” Jungkook says absentmindedly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he propped his feet up onto your desk; a move you’d witnessed on so many occasions, you’d gotten too tired to reprimand him for it.
You set the cup down and speculate over the mess of paper on your desk with a sigh, “Yeah.. I think it might be the hardest we’ve gotten yet.”
You pull out a photo of the crime scene from under the file, sliding it towards him.
It was a very clear image of strangulation on the victim, faded blood and marks of red around the victim’s neck.
All caused by his own father.
“So what are we? Defence or Prosecution?” You’d usually decide this part on your own, but you wanted to hear his thoughts first and ensure he was on the same page as you.
“Easy,” his eyes dip down to your desk, analysing the photo, “We’re defence,” he decides with no hesitation, pulling on his tie to loosen it slightly around his collar.
“What? You wanna go Defence? Seriously?” You thought prosecuting would be the most obvious route to take seeing as the evidence pointed towards the father of the victim being the obvious murderer.
“I spoke with Jimin about it earlier and he also thinks Defence would be the easier route for us.”
“Oh, so it’s just Jimin’s word against mine now?” you arch a brow at him, tilting your head to the side, awaiting a bullshit answer from him.
From the tone of your voice, Jungkook knew you were slowly getting worked up, and quite frankly, there was too much at stake to be arguing when the case hadn’t even started yet. “You know what, we’ll be the Prosecution if it shuts you up.”
As long as you got what you wanted.
“So who’s taking you on a date this weekend?”
Jungkook’s sudden question surprised you. You couldn’t think of one valid reason as to why he cared.
“Um, you probably don’t know him, but his name is Jung Hoseok—”
“—I know him.”
Of course Jungkook knew him; the pair went to law school together but parted ways after Hoseok got a job as a district attorney in the states.
He only returned a couple years back after becoming a legal director at their opposing law firm.
You regretted giving away Hoseok’s name. Now that Jungkook, your absolute nemesis, knew your potential love interest, he was probably planning to absolutely shit talk you to stop you from finding love to feed his bitter self.
“I know Hoseok pretty well, actually. He’s not really fit to be a boss if I’m being honest,” Jungkook recalls, remembering many times back in law school when leadership roles in team activities were up for grabs and Hoseok would always steer clear of them. “Surprised he’s willing to date a bitch,” he snickers, waiting for you to cuss him out.
“Listen, you’re tired, I’m tired, I don’t wanna talk about who’s a bitch and who’s fit enough to be a boss… and it’s definitely not you.”
“Oh yeah? What does Jung Hoseok have that I don’t?”
“Compassion, respect, authority, control, not to mention, he’s quite the attractive man,” you shrug with a sly smile, continuing to boast about Hoseok and at the moment, Jungkook was regretting even asking in the first place.
He could be all that and more.
“But our relationship isn’t very deeply rooted. We’re not in love or anything, we’ve only been on one date so our relationship is at the minimum right now.”
Jungkook didn’t ask for a dramatic reading of your relationship, and he’d just about heard enough, “Yeah, whatever. Can you cook? You should cook for us this weekend. You know, get the brain juice flowing or whatever it’s called,” he stands up abruptly, stretching his arms above his head before heading over to your couch, slouching against the material as he looks over at you, awaiting an answer.
“Why would I cook for someone I hate?”
“You don’t hate me,” he throws back at you, a sly smirk adorning his features, “You pick fights with me and always get competitive, because when you overcome me, it makes you feel better about yourself.”
You bite down on your bottom lip, pondering his words a little.
Maybe he was right to an extent. Nothing felt better than being put against each other and reigning victorious. Everyone in the firm knew how competitive you both were and always steered clear of any kind of opportunity to compete with you.
You sigh and roll your eyes, “Hmm… Maybe I might just have a thing for you, who knows,” you respond casually, shrugging your shoulders just to mess with him a little. “But that’s what you want, right? Another girl to fawn over you?” you taunt him, keeping your eyes trained on him as you recall the number of women that had bombarded your office earlier today after you were counted ‘lucky’ for working with Jungkook, ‘the most attractive guy in the firm.’
Now that made him fix his posture, sitting up for what could only be the most predictable thing he’d ever heard, “Oh my god, I knew it,” he laughs, almost demeaningly, “Everyone and their mum has a thing for me, you’re no different,” he shook his head in disbelief, a large grin spread across his face. “So that’s why you always argue with me, huh? Just so you can talk to me? That’s cute, especially since it’s you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you question, slightly offended.
“Because it’s gonna be fun having the Y/N, my biggest competition, falling in love with me, Jeon Jungkook. Imagine all the headlines that would make.”
God, he’s so full of himself.
As much as you hated how egotistical he was, you wanted to continue your little play act, rising to your feet and walking over to Jungkook by the couch and once near enough, you grab the end of his tie, leaning down towards him and pulling him close to your face with a deceitful smile gracing your lips, “Oh Jeon… You’re so smart, I can’t believe you figured me out so quickly…” you whisper, voice as soft as ever and something Jungkook had never heard before.
He couldn’t deny, your hold on his tie was probably the most attractive thing he’d ever witnessed, but he would never flat-out admit it to you.
Jungkook lifts his hand to gently rest against your cheek, merely trying to see just how far you’d go to keep this act up, “Mhm, I bet you like where we are now, don’t you?” he teases, his voice dropping several octaves and matching the volume of what was once your voice, now barely there as your mind went blank and his eyes proceeded to dance between your lips and your eyes.
Your cheeks had heated up drastically under his touch and you weren’t expecting him to make a comeback like that, and you really weren’t prepared to take things any further, but your pride would take a major blow if you backed out now.
Besides, the setting was perfect for that kind of moment; a near empty building, alone in the office, lights dimmed down, both tired and stressed out..
Your lips were mere inches away from his own and you could’ve kissed him if you really wanted to, and maybe, maybe you did want to kiss him—
No, that was the tense air speaking.
Just improvise.
“Mhm, this is exactly what I wanted…” you whisper, giving his tie one last tug till your foreheads were touching, “But I’m sure your hand can make-do in better places, don’t you think?”
Jungkook’s brow twitches, and you almost miss it, but it was enough of a sign to let you know he wasn’t expecting you to keep up. It wasn’t a problem for him though, the man was just as stubborn and prideful as you were, there was absolutely no way in hell he was gonna back down.
Not until you do.
“And what about yours, Y/N?” he challenges, eyes briefly peering down at your hand still gripping on the end of his tie, “I bet you’re really skilled with your hands, aren’t you?”
The real fun begins when the hand that was once resting against your cheek, drops a little lower, making home over the dip of your neck and Jungkook could feel your skin burn under his palm.
Your heart was racing as you discreetly pondered what he meant by that and once you clocked on, your body had stiffened, but you needed to seem unfazed, “Of course I am, probably more skilled than you at this point,” you shrug, gesturing towards his hand near your neck.
If he had the balls, he’d touch you somewhere more scandalous.
“Oh, is that right? You wanna bring my hands further down then, Y/N?”
Jungkook was testing you and your patience. If he thought you were gonna pussy out, he was wrong.
Your left hand grabs onto his wrist, right hand landing flat against his chest as you pushed him back against the sofa, and without even thinking of your next move, you impulsively make home on Jungkook’s lap, straddling his thighs as you adjust yourself on top of him. He watched on, slightly shocked and a little amused at the lengths you were going through just to prove a point.
With your hand wrapped around his wrist, you drag his hand down your body, slowly reaching your chest and stopping, “How about this?” you whisper, your voice on the verge of the faltering.
“Could be better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his blazer off his body, leaving it elsewhere and going back to his previous position, “Try this…”
He begins to pull his tie off around his collar, leaving it beside him for later use and then reaching up to unbutton his white dress shirt until hints of skin peeked through, “It’ll be better if you touch me yourself, but I’m sure you already know that since you’re so ‘skilled,” he says, his hands resting over your hips.
How long was Jungkook gonna keep this up? You were running out of ideas and though this was all a game, you couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit turned on, but how couldn’t you? You were sitting on his lap, your near-skintight skirt rolling up your thighs and you were almost certain he could feel the slight throbbing between your legs.
With one hand placed on his shoulder, the other reaching down to slip your hand past his shirt, your palms making direct contact with his built chest, God, you’re all talk,” you roll your eyes, leaning in to whisper against his ear, “Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?”
Jungkook throws his head back, eliciting a low chuckle, eyes meeting yours again as his palms made home on your thighs, squeezing your flesh enough to warm himself up, “If we continue, this won't be a game anymore…” he trails off, trying his absolute hardest to ignore the growing pain of his hardening cock under his slacks, “I won't be able to stop,” he continues, knowing inside he wanted this too, but was more than willing to back off if you seriously didn’t wanna do this, “Is this what you want?”
Fuck, of course you wanted this. Your body needed an output, some kind of relief. Just this once, you were willing to set aside your differences for what, ten minutes of quick relief?
You adjust yourself on his lap, your lace-clad cunt snug above his growing erection and you could've sworn you almost moaned at the contact. "Can you feel that?” you whisper, referring to the throbbing between your legs. "Is that enough of an answer for you?"
"Jesus Y/N," Jungkook nearly groans at the closeness. If he continued this game, he would cross a line that would be hard to come back from, and he was willing and ready to deal with the consequences to come.
With one swift move, he rests his fingers under your chin, tilting your head to the side to make room for his lips to attach to your neck, gently sucking and biting along your untainted neck didn't whilst he kept you distracted by the new sudden feeling of his large hands rocking your hips back and forth over his erection.
You elicit a soft sigh, eyes coming to a gentle shut as you basked in the soft pleasure, your soaked-through panties bound to leave a mark of your mess on top of him.
Jungkook pulls away from your neck, leaning back to admire your state; your cheeks were flushed pink, hair a little messy and a sheer layer of sweat adorning your chest, resulting in your blouse sticking to your body and arched a brow at you, “Take the shirt off for me, will you?”
You don’t hesitate to oblige, unbuttoning your mesh blouse with your eyes solely focused on him, and it seemed Jungkook had the same plan to just stare you down as you pulled the material off your shoulders, your well hidden assets finally coming in to view and Jungkook’s breath had hitched in his throat.
He didn’t know what came over him, or if he was just high in the moment, but you looked absolutely unreal; a simple yet stunning black lace bralette over your chest, your cleavage on full show and and it was everything he’d imagined. He inhales sharply, resisting the urge to just grab you, but Jungkook was a man of class (sometimes).
He gestured for you to remove the bralette and you did, hands reaching for your back to unclasp everything and let the material fall to your lap, freeing your tits right in front of his face and he was impulsively leaning in, briefly flicking his tongue over your hardened nipples before pulling away just to leave a ruthless smack over the expanse of your tits, revelling in the way your skin would redden and how your body would jump on top of him.
If he was feeling nice, he’d give in to you, give you exactly what you wanted, but to be frank, he wasn’t in a nice mood. He didn’t know if he hated you the way he did before all of this but God, was he gonna give you a piece of his mind..
Jungkook briefly slips his hand under your skirt and reaching between your legs, eager to feel just how soaked you were through your panties and boy, he was not disappointed.
Just mere talking and subtle teasing got you this riled up?
Clearly yes, your thighs were shuddering between his hand and you were almost embarrassed to be sitting where you were right now, “What are you waiting for?” you huff, frustration evident in your tone as you pulled yourself up to slip off your panties.
“I’m waiting for you to beg.”
“I’m not begging you—”
As soon as your panties were off, Jungkook was immediately pulling you back down onto his lap, now getting a real feel of your slick dampening his dress pants, “You’ll beg me, otherwise we can just wrap this up and call it a day…” he trails off, firmly gripping your hips as he pressed you down harder on his hardening cock, forcing a quiet moan to slip past your lips.
“Come on, Y/N… you know what you want, just tell me,” he whispers, eyes meeting yours and drinking in the irritation in them.
God, he loved irritating you.
Giving in just this once wouldn't hurt you, but you weren’t exactly the begging type of person, “I need your hands…” you manage to muster, your poor cunt practically leaking over his slacks.
“That’s not how you ask nicely,” Jungkook taunts you, throwing in a disappointed sigh, “Enlighten me, will you? How bad do you want them?” He leans back against the sofa, his hands rolling the hem of your skirt up over your thighs so he could have a clear cut view of your pussy, swallowing sharply once his eyes catch a glint of your flesh shining under the dim lights.
"Fuck you.." you grit. Jungkook stating the obvious was embarrassing for you; who would've thought Jeon Jungkook would be the reason for your desperation.
You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was enjoying tormenting you, and today was not gonna be the day you beg for him; you had far too much pride for that.
Instead of using your words, you grab ahold of his hand, guiding it down your body and between your legs. Once the pad of his fingers were against your clit, you wasted no time in rocking your hips against them. "I— I want your fingers inside me," you whisper against his ear, hoping he’d cut you some slack.
"Oh Y/N..." Jungkook shook his head disapprovingly. He quickly pulls his hands away to fetch his tie laying next to him on the couch.
You knew exactly where he was going with this and you were right; he’d grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your lower back, using his black tie to restrain your hands, and all you could do was shuffle on top of him, “I’d be careful when moving, wouldn’t want you to fall back,” he taunts you, a grin plastering his face as he pulled on the restraints one last time.
Jungkook doesn’t even spare you a minute to get used to the tie, his hand making home between your legs once again as he moved the pad of his fingers up and down against your swollen clit agonisingly slow, “Don’t you know your manners, Y/N? What happened to saying ‘please’ when you want something?”
You were falling apart on top of him, your hands clawing at nothing as you tried to remain composed. You felt absolutely hopeless, and giving in didn’t seem so bad right about now.
“I fucking hate you,” you seethe through gritted teeth, grinding yourself against his fingers seeing as his lace was too slow for your own liking, “Please, Jungkook…” it physically hurt you to say those words, feeling your cheeks swell up in embarrassment, “I wanna fuck myself on your fingers…”
Most certainly pleased by your answer, he doesn't waste any time, thrusting his index and middle finger into you so fast, a gasp was ripped from your throat. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Only a real slut would beg to get fucked by a guy she hates.”
His hands began to push in and out carefully, admiring your eventual fucked out state, "Fuck yourself on them, pretty," Jungkook instructs, gradually speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. "Or do you want me to curl them?"
It was a rhetorical question, already feeling him curl his fingers between your soft walls as you helplessly clenched around him.
It felt so good.
It was unfortunate your body was close to giving in, struggling to stay up on top of him but you tried to muster as much strength as you could to keep going, drowning Jungkook's digits in your slick as your hips moved up and down on his fingers at a similar pace to his wrist, “Jeon, I can’t..
"Oh? But you can argue with me, call me names, and make a fool of me in front of my colleagues?" Jungkook taunts, speeding up his fingers to a torturous fast pace that was sure to bring you closer to your high. "You can do all of that, but you can't fuck yourself on my fingers? What a pathetic bitch.”
He reaches behind you to untie the restraints binding your wrists together, letting the material drop to the floor behind you before he was picking you up and carrying you over to your desk, setting you down on the surface and pushing you to lie back ever so slightly as he dropped to his knees between your legs.
He split your legs apart, audibly groaning at the sight of your swollen pussy; clit peeking out and your tight hole desperately clenching around nothing. “Fuck… Look at that desperate pussy..” he mumbles to himself, fixing your legs over his shoulders as he leaned in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cunt.
A content sigh left fell from your lips as he used the tip of his tongue to toy with your sensitive bud, causing your thighs to shake around his head. The repetitive movement had your body tensing and the moans you’d been keeping to a minimum now at the max.
“So— so good..” you whimper, gazing down at him. With your hands free, they moved to grab at his dark locks, shoving his head further between your legs till you could feel his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit and good god, Jungkook would go to hell and back to drown in your pussy for eternity.
He let out a muffled groan, sliding his tongue between your folds and sucking on your clit like his life depended on it, but he needed to pull away if he wanted to live to experience that.
When Jungkook pulled away, you whined, but he wasn’t gone for long, suddenly delivering a harsh slap to your cunt that made your body jump and left your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
It stung, but it felt so fucking good.
Pleased by your reaction, he did it again, this time only harder, “Oh, so Miss Lawyer likes getting her slutty pussy slapped?”
Before you could even respond, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip, not wasting another second before he’d spat right over your aching cunt, forcing you to arch your back off the desk as he watched the bead of spit trail between your folds in awe.
He leaned in again, shoving his tongue into your aching cunt and feeling your walls clench around the wet muscle almost as if you didn’t wanna let go and he found it beyond amusing, pulling away almost immediately just to spite you as he stood up to tower over your body; mouth glistening from all the slick and you couldn’t deny he looked like a hot mess.
What you didn’t see coming, was Jungkook grabbing your face, slapping you one as he squished your cheeks within his hold, forcing your lips to pucker as he spat into your mouth, the mixture of his saliva and your slick seeping down your throat as you swallowed with no hesitation.
He chuckled deeply, “Should’ve known an A class whore like yourself was into this shit. What do you think the jury would think about that, huh?” He continues to tug on your face, forcing you to keep your eyes on him so he could watch you break down before him.
Jungkook pulls you up and off the desk, standing tall and confident in front of you as you tried to regain a steady composure, almost stumbling.
“I don’t know how they’d feel knowing the slutty prosecutor got on her knees for the heir of this firm,” he starts, reaching out to wrap his hand around your neck firmly and pulling you towards him, “We should risk it and find out, huh?” he breathes out against your lips, low and hoarse and you had to squeeze your thighs shut from the flutters you were feeling between your legs.
“I’d rather throw dirt in my eyes than suck your dick,” you spit, shamelessly lying through your teeth and Jungkook immediately knew you were playing games.
“You think you’re funny, huh?” His hands shift from your neck to the back of your head, gripping a hand full of your hair and urging you to get on your knees and you did exactly that, making it easy for him to get you down as you tried your best to conceal the knowing smile growing on your lips but all you did was lick your lips up at him, anticipation clouding your eyes as you gulped.
The subtle action alone had his dick jumping in his slacks and he refused to wait any longer before unbuckling his belt and pulling pants halfway down his thighs, leaving a thick and oblivious imprint of his cock straining against his boxers right in front of your face.
You didn’t realise it, but your body was inching towards him and Jungkook took notice straight away, doing you the favour of pulling his cock out from its confines to stand tall and hard before you.
You were meaning to reach out for him, but he beat you to it, wrapping a strong hand around the base of his cock as he pumped himself between his fist a couple times, squinting at the little bead of precum eventually dripping down the base of his cock and you could only stare on in awe.
“You want my cock down your throat, huh?” he taunts deeply, moving forwards so he could guide the tip of his leaking cock across your face, nudging your cheek and avoiding all contact with your mouth.
Right where you wanted him most.
“Say it,” he lightly slaps the tip of his dick against your cheek, dragging it down to your lips but not yet pushing in, “Say you’re a cock-hungry bitch who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much…”
Submission was never your thing. You always showed yourself out to be a woman who always stood her ground, never taking shit from anyone. But now it was your worst enemy, proving you wrong on all of the above.
“I’m a cock-hungry bitch..” your words are there, but no confidence within them, “Who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much,” you mumble against the tip of his dick, hoping he’d give in to you.
Jungkook shrugs, “Could be better, but what more do I expect from a whore?” He suddenly pushes the tip of his cock past your lips, taking you by surprise as he groaned deeply, basking in the warmth of your mouth as he slowly eased himself into you inch by inch until he completely bottomed out.
You couldn’t handle his immense size, already struggling to breathe and he hadn’t even moved yet and tears were brimming your eyes.
“Tight fucking fit…” he seethes, slowly pulling out only to slam back into your mouth with brute force, each thrust pushing against the back of your throat and though you started choking, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You didn’t want him to stop; allowing him to use your head as assistance.
“Fucking made for my cock, aren’t you? A perfect fit..”
The only sounds that could be heard were Jungkook’s groans and the illicit sounds of your gagging and spluttering, a mixture of spit and precum leaking out the sides of your mouth.
"Gonna make better use of your pretty mouth.. and dumb you up so you'll never be able to throw all that fucking attitude at me again.." With no prep whatsoever, he impales your throat again, this time keeping your head at the very base of his cock, your nose brushing against his abdomen as your throat clenched around him, squeezing tightly to the point you could feel him throb.
“If this is the only way to shut you up, I’ll have you on your knees more often,” he looks down at you, watching the woman who stood so high on her fucking imaginary pedestal, now kneeling between his legs with her mouth stuffed full of his cock like a needy bitch.
Jungkook was damn near certain he almost came from the sight of you alone so he suddenly pulled you away from him, a thick and heavy string of precum connecting your lips to him leaving you a gasping, teary eyed, heaving mess.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you grumble, slightly annoyed by the sudden withdrawal as you hastily stood onto your feet.
“Oh, Y/N.. What am I gonna do with you?” he questions, sarcasm lacing his voice as he took a couple steps towards you just to grab your arm and turn you around; pushing you down front first against the glass surface of his desk.
You could barely make out what he was about to do, the side of your face pressed up against the glass but God, he was so close behind you, you couldn’t help but push back against him a little, whimpering at the sliver of skin-on-skin contact with him and Jungkook was all for your eagerness.
He spits against the palm of his hand, using the heel of his palm to reach down between your legs and massage your weeping cunt, briefly letting his digits dip into you before replacing them with his cock.
At last.
“Oh— fuck.. Jeon—!” You’re more vocal now than you were ever before, his size deeming you absolutely vulnerable as he pushed into you slowly. The stretch was beyond humane, he was practically splitting you open and your tears were suddenly making another appearance.
Jungkook felt like he was going through the seven stages of grief; not expecting you to be so tight around him and already so addicting, it was like a revelation for him.
“Pussy made just for me..” he groans, a palm aiming to land a harsh smack against your ass cheek, making you jump and the ongoing stinging sensation turning the affected area a light shade of pink which was bound to darken overtime. “All fucking mine—” he grits harshly squeezing the flesh of your ass as he continued to thrust in and out of your sopping cunt, “Fuck, look at your tight pussy just sucking me in… bet you like me shoving into your cunt, huh?”
“Uhghhh yes, yes! I love it so much!”
You loved the pain.
Each powerful thrust caused your body to repeatedly shift against your desk, again and again his dick slamming so deep into your guts you wondered if it were even possible to experience such a thing.
You could tell he was giving you his all; his muscles were tense, every vein in his body was popping out just so he could take out his frustrations on you. He dealt with your ass for three years; constant bickering, competitions, insults, but fuck him, if he knew you what got you going, he’d have fucked you way sooner.
“Bet you wished I’d come in and fuck you at some point, huh?” A smirk was lingering over his features, knowing well what your answer was.
“God— yes!” Your back forcibly arches against your will as you nod desperately.
Truth be told, you did look forward to his visits in your office just to argue with you. Arguing with an attractive man who looked even hotter when he was mad?
Of course.
“And everytime I’d leave your office, you’d sit in your chair with a wet fucking pussy all day, hoping I’d come back in just to fuck you, right? But God, why didn’t I do that?” he mentally curses himself, digging his fingers into your hips as his pace faltered, indicating he was losing traction.
“Fuck you for not making a move,” you hiss through tears, gripping at the edge of your desk for stability as his thrusts became sloppy and messy.
He lands another harsh smack against your ass, making you help in surprise, “Shut the fuck up, I’m not done,” he seethes, picking up the pace and knocking all other backtalk out of your lungs, "Every damn day, I've had to deal with your shit; talking down on me—" his words laced with anger as he slams in to you, "—flaunting your stupid awards in my face and walking around like you own the fucking place."
He abruptly pulls out, turning you over to lay back on the desk whilst he spread your legs apart, his cock slipping into you once more as his free hand settled a harsh slap against your tits, “Now I have you under me, crying on my cock like a little bitch. Where'd that confidence go, huh?"
You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, to busy doing exactly as he’d stated. Your mind was hazy and your body was going numb, all you were capable of was squeezing your walls tightly around his cock as a sign to say you were close.
“Oh you’re close, huh?” Jungkook brings his hand down to scoop up the stringy mess connecting both your bodies, “We can’t have security walk in, can we?” lifting his hand again to shove three slick coated digits into your mouth in a bid to silence your moans as you came. “Come all over my cock like you were born for it.”
And thank god he did what he did because your pleasure filled cries would have woken up the entire city.
Your tongue lapped at his fingers, sucking off whatever was there before he pulled them out of your mouth, admiring the way they glistened under the dim lights.
You stared up at him in a daze, chest heaving and tits bruised red as he thrusted back and forth a couple more times before finally reaching his orgasm with a low bellow.
“Fuck…” he groans to himself and you could feel his warmth completely fill you up, some of it too much to the point white was leaking out of your sensitive cunt as he drained himself empty into you.
Once Jungkook was certain he was done, he slowly pulled out, his cock falling limp and his mess now prominent between your legs, noticing it was all slipping out so he did you the duty of using his fingers to push as much as he could back into you, the sensitivity making you shudder, “Can’t let it go to waste,” he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to his lips to sneak a taste.
It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen and he was pulling you to sit up on the desk before grabbing your case with both hands and kissing you with all his might.
It was unexpected but you were too in the moment to stop him. You could just about make out the distinctive taste of yourself and him on your lips and all you were wondering was how the hell you’d both come back from this.
Jungkook bit down on your bottom lip, dragging it out towards him before letting go and watching the plumpness bounce back, red and swollen like he’d left his mark on you.
“What did we just do..?” you whisper, finally drinking in the state of yourself and the absolute state of your office, papers everywhere and the smell of sex surrounding you.
Jungkook didn’t know what came over him, but he needed to reassure you one thing; “This probably wasn’t ideal but I don’t regret it,” he says, eyes glued to yours and curious to know if you felt the same way.
You didn’t know if you felt the same way, but you certainly weren’t feeling bad about it.
“You don’t have to say anything now, or put a label on it or anything, you can take your time,” he tells you softly, pulling away from you to pull his pants back up and tuck himself away. He was unsure whether you wanted to be alone or wanted to stay in his presence, but he figured he’d do what was safest, “Want me to clean you up and walk you to your car?”
Your hands adjusted the skirt that had been rolled up your hips, pulling it down to shield your thighs and the mess as you shook your head, “Oh no, that’s okay, I can take it from here,” you reply, this time giving him a genuine smile for his chivalry, one he’d never actually seen on you before and he wished he could see it more often.
Jungkook nodded and went to collect his shirt by the sofa, throwing it over his shoulder and heading for the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then for some case work.”
“Yeah, you too…”
He curtly nodded and headed out of your office with a sigh. He didn’t wanna leave you alone after that, but he wanted to avoid any intrusive/pushy questioning and awkwardness.
How the hell would you both ever come back from this?
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songbirdseung · 2 months
Text
hearing you sing and or dance for the first time / en- maknae line
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synopsis: their non showbiz girlfriend is caught singing and or dancing alone, performing relatively good. they start to question how you could be so talented but be so secretly about it.
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SUNOO 김 선우~
as the sun streamed through the windows of the cozy apartment, sunoo grabbed his keys and headed out the door, his mind focused on the task at hand. he had to pick up some documents from the company before they closed, and he didn't want to waste any time. little did he know, his return would be met with a delightful surprise.
upon his return, sunoo stepped into the living room, expecting to find you engrossed in a book or perhaps preparing a snack. however, the room was empty, save for the faint sound of music drifting from your bedroom. curiosity piqued, sunoo followed the melodic strains, drawn like a magnet to your door.
as he pushed it open, he was greeted by a sight that took his breath away. there you were, standing in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, your eyes closed in concentration as you sang along to one of enhypen's songs. the room seemed to shimmer with the magic of your voice, and sunoo found himself utterly captivated.
for a moment, he simply stood there, unable to tear his gaze away from you. it was as if time had stood still, the world fading away until there was only the two of you and the music that filled the air.
finally, you must have sensed his presence because you stopped singing, your eyes flying open in surprise. sunoo smiled, his heart swelling with admiration for the beauty of the moment.
"that was incredible," he said, his voice filled with awe. "i had no idea you could sing like that."
you blushed, a shy smile playing on your lips as you tried to downplay your talent. but sunoo wouldn't hear of it. he launched into a long and heartfelt compliment, his words tumbling out in a rush as he poured out his admiration for your voice and your talent.
"you have such a beautiful voice," he exclaimed, his eyes shining with sincerity. "i could listen to you sing all day and never get tired of it. you brought that song to life in a way i've never heard before. it was like… like magic."
his words washed over you like a warm embrace, filling you with a sense of joy and contentment unlike anything you had ever known. it was a moment of pure connection, a shared appreciation for something beautiful and fleeting.
and as sunoo continued to lavish you with praise, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through your chest, your heart swelling with happiness at the knowledge that you had touched him in such a profound way. it was a moment you knew you would treasure forever, a memory to hold close to your heart long after the music had faded away.
as sunoo continued to praise your singing, you couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed by all the attention. you tried to laugh it off, saying, "oh, come on, it's not that great. i was just having some fun."
but sunoo was having none of it. "no, really," he insisted. "you have a gift. you should consider auditioning for a talent show or something."
you chuckled, shaking your head. "i don't think i'm ready for that kind of spotlight."
just then, the sound of your stomach growling broke the moment, and both of you burst into laughter. "i think that's my cue to make us some dinner," you said, still giggling.
sunoo grinned. "i'll help. i don't trust your cooking skills after hearing your singing."
you playfully swatted his arm as you headed to the kitchen together, the music still playing softly in the background. it was a simple, silly moment, but it was perfect in its own way, a reminder of the easy, comfortable bond you shared with sunoo.
JUNGWON 양 정원~
as jungwon trudged home from practice, exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders. all he could think about was collapsing into bed and getting some well-deserved rest. but then a thought crossed his mind, a longing to see you, his girlfriend, before he faced the dorms and the inevitable teasing from the other members.
so, he mustered up the courage to ask the manager to drop him off at your place instead. his request was met with raised eyebrows and playful ribbing from his bandmates, but jungwon brushed it off, determined to spend some quality time with you.
as jungwon settled into the back seat of the van, the other members of enhypen eyed him with playful smirks. sunghoon, sitting beside him, couldn't resist teasing. "ah, look who's got a hot date tonight," he teased, nudging jungwon with his elbow.
heeseung, from the front seat, joined in with a grin. "going to see your girlfriend, huh? don't worry, we won't tell her about your terrible snoring."
jungwon rolled his eyes, playfully swatting at sunghoon. "shut up, guys. i just want to see her before we head back to the dorms."
jake, sitting in the driver's seat, chuckled. "sure, sure. we all know you just can't bear to be away from her for too long."
the teasing continued throughout the ride, but jungwon took it all in stride, knowing it was all in good fun. deep down, he was grateful for his bandmates' camaraderie, even if it meant enduring a bit of ribbing along the way.
when he finally arrived at your apartment, he was greeted by the sound of music emanating from within. curiosity piqued, jungwon let himself in quietly, hoping to surprise you. however, what he saw stopped him in his tracks.
there you were, lost in the rhythm of enhypen's "future perfect," your movements clean and strong as you danced around the room. jungwon's eyes widened in astonishment. he had never seen this side of you before, so full of energy and passion.
careful not to disturb you, jungwon positioned himself out of sight, watching you with a mixture of awe and adoration. he couldn't tear his gaze away, captivated by the way you moved to the music, completely lost in the moment.
as the song came to an end, jungwon couldn't hold back any longer. stepping into view, he applauded softly, a warm smile spreading across his face as you turned to face him, cheeks flushed with exertion.
"wow," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "i had no idea you could dance like that."
you blinked in surprise, a bashful smile playing on your lips as you tried to catch your breath. "oh, jungwon, you're back already?" you exclaimed, a hint of embarrassment coloring your cheeks.
jungwon nodded, stepping closer. "yeah, i couldn't resist the chance to see you."
you chuckled, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "well, i hope you weren't too bored watching me dance around like a fool."
"bored?" jungwon shook his head, his eyes sparkling with pride. "are you kidding? you were amazing. i had no idea you had such talent."
you blushed at his praise, feeling a surge of happiness at the thought of impressing him. "thank you, jungwon. that means a lot coming from you."
he grinned, his gaze never leaving yours. "you know," he said, his tone soft but earnest, "you could easily audition for hybe. with talent like yours, you could even work with me."
NI-KI 西村 力~
as riki trudged towards the dance practice room, he couldn't shake off the nervous excitement bubbling inside him. he had been told that he would be covering a new song, which meant he had to learn the choreography as well. it was a daunting task, but he was determined to give it his all.
as he pushed open the door to the practice room, he froze in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. there you were, dancing with their usual choreographer, effortlessly gliding across the floor to the very song he was supposed to learn. riki couldn't believe his eyes as he watched you, his non-idol girlfriend, dominating the dance floor with such grace and precision.
he stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from you. you caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror and winked at him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you continued to dance. riki's heart swelled with pride and admiration for you, amazed by your talent and dedication.
by the time the song came to an end, riki couldn't contain his excitement any longer. he burst into applause, cheering loudly for you as you caught your breath, a bright smile lighting up your face.
"you were incredible!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine awe. "i had no idea you could dance like that!"
you laughed, a flush of pride coloring your cheeks as you walked over to him. "thanks, riki. i've been practicing a lot lately."
he grinned, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. "well, you were amazing. in fact, you were so good, you could practically steal my job as an idol!"
you laughed at his playful remark, feeling a sense of joy and warmth enveloping you as you held him close. in that moment, surrounded by the music and the love of your life, you knew that anything was possible.
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divorceconnoisseur · 1 year
Text
There's a beat of silence where they just stare at each other. Eddie's face wavers for a second before he snorts, running his hand down his face. "What are we even doing here, man?"
Steve falters, the inanity of the situation hitting him. "I, uh, I think we're about to actually fistfight over-- over who a bunch of 14-year-olds think is cooler."
Eddie considers that briefly, tapping his fingers against his mouth before nodding. "Yeah, okay, I've heard of worst causes. Dukes up, Harrington, let's go!" Eddie pushes up his sleeves and waves his fists in the air cartoonishly as he starts to circle Steve.
Steve laughs, following Eddie as he goes like a compass drawn north. "Oh yeah, man? To the death, right?"
"Of course. Is there any other kind of fight?" Eddie says, overly serious, and abruptly tackles Steve.
They wrestle for a moment, and it's playful and stupid, but it still takes Steve an embarrassingly short amount of time to get Eddie in a headlock.
"This is just sad, man," Steve teases as Eddie struggles. "Those guns just for show, then?"
"Oh shit oh shit not the hair please, please have mercy O King Steve," Eddie laughs breathlessly.
Steve considers it-- Eddie seems to take as much care in his hair as Steve does, and real respects real-- and in that moment of hesitation, Eddie hooks his leg around Steve's and pulls.
Steve yelps as Eddie cackles, dragging them both down into the grass.
He hits the ground with a choked gasp, breath knocked out of him, and he squints up at the sky, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a grin.
He turns his head to say something to Eddie but loses his breath a second time for a very different reason.
Eddie's still giggling to himself in little fits, winding down, and there's a lightness to him at this moment that Steve's never seen, only heard described by the kids pre-Vecna. Laughter suits Eddie Munson, much better than terror or guilt or seriousness, and Steve's suddenly aware that he would do anything in this moment to keep that surprised look of happiness on his face a second longer.
Eddie catches his eyes and turns his head toward him. He's got grass stuck in his hair, and Steve doesn't think before he reaches over.
It's soft. Softer than he was expecting. He's careful not to catch any of Eddie's hair as he pulls out the grass and ends up lingering longer than he means to, setting a curl back to rights before realizing that this is, like, maybe a little weird.
He jerks back, and the back of his hand brushes Eddie's cheek, which is-- which is--
Warm. Soft, too, but with the rough start to stubble, and the feeling of it lingers against his hand like a brand.
Eddie's eyes, dark and impossibly wide, watch him, quiet for once. He wets his lips before speaking, and Steve's eyes catch on that, too, before darting back up to Eddie's. Which, god, what even was that? Why-- why is he--?
"A draw, then," Eddie says, turning over onto his stomach and kicking up his feet, and the weird atmosphere vanishes like it never was. "You are a worthier opponent than I realized, Steve Harrington."
"Oh yeah?" Steve says, relieved and disappointed. "Well, you're not so bad yourself."
Eddie clicks his tongue and fans himself. "You're too kind."
Steve looks away, tracking the clouds passing overhead. "No, really. I know I haven't exactly been, y'know, the world's best welcoming committee-"
"Was pretty convinced you hated my guts, yup." Eddie agrees, nodding.
"I don't. I never did. You're just--" Steve wracks his brain, trying to fit a word to the squirming feeling in his chest that Eddie inspires. "You're really good, y'know?"
"I... don't know, actually." Eddie's voice goes flat, and when Steve turns back to look at him, he's looking at Steve like he's a live snake, or something else dangerous and close to his vulnerable bits.
"You're good with the kids. Good for the kids, too. God, Will's really opened up since he joined your dumb nerdfest. You're good with and to the girls, too, and Jonathan, and Argyle, and probably anyone else that crosses your path. You are, patently, a good dude."
Eddie's mouth opens and closes, but Steve barrels on, feeling electric and more than a little crazy. "And, and it's just-- I don't know, I just--"
"Harrington, if you're about to tell me you think I'm a better man than you, I will lose it," Eddie interrupts regardless, voice high and reedy. "I know you're being, like, genuine and honest right now, but I will laugh in your goddamn face-"
"No, it's not that."
"Okay, I know this directly contradicts what I just said, but the speed with which you said that... Ouch."
"No," Steve shakes his head, frustrated. "I didn't mean it like that. It's-- it's not a competition."
Eddie's eyebrows leap up. "It's not? I invite you to remember what we've spent the last few weeks on."
"That was just an excuse," He snaps his mouth closed the second the words leave his mouth.
"Excuse?" Eddie repeats slowly.
"I just. I don't know, man. Maybe," he swallows. "Maybe I just couldn't handle the thought of you being good to me."
"... Why not?" Eddie asks, eyes focused on him, open, not judging, and god, this is exactly what Steve was worried about.
Eddie looks at him, and Steve--
Kisses him. Can't really do anything else but kiss him.
And when Eddie, after the longest moment of Steve's life, starts kissing him back? It's like the answer to a question he hadn't realized he'd been asking.
Turns out it's not the kids' attention he'd wanted-- or not just the kids' attention, anyway.
When Eddie pulls back, lips red and wet, eyes dark and focused just on him, Steve knows he's finally won it.
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babyleostuff · 8 months
Text
roses and dahlias | choi seungcheol
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summary | [requested by: @lifeisnotajuunice] the reader being a florist and friends with dk, so one day he brings the whole team to meet reader at their shop and scoups is instantly drawn in by them
genre | fluff
pairing | idol!seungcheol x florist!reader
word count | 2.2k
author's note | while writing this i've realized how little i know about flowers (i literally have no idea how half of these flowers are called in my native language)
Taking a last look at the bouquet you were holding, you hummed in approval, weaving in some final pieces of baby breath to add a soft touch that would stand out in comparison to the crimson red roses and gerbera daisies. “Whoever this bouquet is meant for must be a very lucky person,” you thought, gently putting the flowers in a vase and placing it next to the eight others that were supposed to be picked up in the afternoon.
“They are for your friend, right?” Nodding at your colleague, you wiped your hands on the apron you got from said friend, looking one last time at the bouquet, which now looked even prettier as it stood on the sunlit windowsill. “They are having some sort of party for the whole team, and they ordered nine compositions for the staff,” you explained, looking over at your co-worker. 
“They look great, I’m sure they’ll love it.” 
“To be honest, I don’t think they know much about flowers, so anything will be good for them,” you laughed, remembering how Seokmin gave you peonies thinking they were roses. You spent the next ten minutes explaining the differences between those two, surely boring your best friend to death.
In his defence, they are kind of similar. 
“Will he pick up all of this by himself?”  
“Oh, no, he and some of his bandmates are coming later in the afternoon,” you said, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. The fact that most of them would be coming over in a couple of hours, made you feel a lot more anxious than it should.
You and Seokmin have known each other for so many years now, yet you’ve never met all of his friends properly. But there was one specific person that you were the most nervous to meet.
Choi Seungcheol. 
You always brushed it off as a silly little crush on a guy you’ve never even met, because no matter how delusional his fancams made you, that was the reality. The biggest interaction you’ve had was liking his Instagram photo, which you immediately regretted, and it’s not like he would pay much attention to you anyways. Still, you could feel your chest tighten at the thought of him actually meeting him. 
The rest of the day was busy as always. You helped the customers with picking flowers, making sure to put your heart into every bouquet you made. You’ve always wondered what history would each of these bouquets hold after leaving your shop - because to you, it was merely a job to put together a beautiful piece, but for the receiving person, the flowers meant so much more than that. 
Soon, the sun was setting, and people were rushing home to their loved ones, streets busy and loud. You proudly looked at the final order you put together, rolling your shoulders, hoping it would release some tension that accumulated throughout the day. 
“We’re here,” suddenly a loud voice pulled you out of your thoughts, startling you a bit in the process. You quickly put away all of the sharp tools that could harm you by accident. “And who would that be?” you joked, not bothered to check who's just entered.
Two strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, and your back met a familiar chest. 
“You weren’t at the concert last week,” Seokmin pouted, when you turned around to face him. “Well, I have my responsibilities you know,” you laughed at his disappointed expression. “Besides, I wasn’t able to buy the tickets.” 
“You know you could’ve just called me,” he said, realising you from the hug, “I know, I know.” 
That’s when you noticed a group of other people watching you. And not just any people. 
“Right, I don’t think you’ve properly met before,” Seokmin said, putting an arm around your shoulder. “These are the only ones that bothered to help me, so they’re the best,” he said proudly, looking at his friends. 
“Don’t let Soonyoung hear this, or he’ll get mad,” said Seungkwan, you believed. You also recognised the tallest, and the one with glasses next to him - Mingyu and Wonwoo. “And that’s Joshua, Chan and Seungcheol,” your friend pointed at the blond man standing furthest away from you. 
You waved your hand at them awkwardly, clutching the cloth you were cleaning with tightly in your hand. They all seemed extremely nice, nothing but smiles on their faces, yet it was quite underwhelming meeting them all at once.
And it wasn’t even the whole band. 
As your gaze drifted back to Seungcheol, the realisation that he was actually real hit you slowly, like - he really was standing right in front of you. And he was as perfect as a person could be. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll just grab the flowers and leave,” he said, nodding in the direction of the bouquets. “Oh,” you managed to get out, trying not to sound disappointed, because of course, why would they stay any longer than needed. They were here only for the flowers. 
You pointed at the windowsill where all of the vases were. 
“You did them all by yourself?” Mingyu asked, his eyes wide with interest. “Yes, it’s all me,” you smiled at his fascinated gaze. It always made you feel so appreciated whenever people reacted that way at your work. It only assured you that you were great at what you were doing. 
“Can I take a picture of them?” you nodded, giggling at how excited he seemed. “We’ll be here forever if he starts taking photos,” Wonwoo sighed, sliding his glasses further up his nose. 
“But it really is a nice place,” Joshua said, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder. “Do you mind if we take some pictures?” he asked. Honestly speaking, even if you wanted to say “no”, you wouldn’t be able to. He looked so genuinely polite and nice.  
You went back behind the counter to give the boys some freedom, yet your gaze couldn’t help but wonder toward Seungcheol. He was posing in front of a bunch of tulips and orchids, his blond hair standing out amongst the violet and burgundy flowers, making him look almost ethereal, as the setting sun was illuminating his face.
Seriously, you had to stop ogling him, even though you were sure he’d already noticed how you were staring at him. You caught him looking at you a couple of times in the span of the last ten minutes, but that couldn’t be true, it was silly for you to even think so.  
The boys, on the other hand, looked like they had genuinely a lot of fun, trying to guess the different flowers’ names, and doing the silliest poses in front of the camera. 
Busying yourself with cleaning, you searched around for the little stool you always used to reach the higher shelves, but it was nowhere to be seen. It’s almost like it magically disappeared when you needed it the most.
Giving up, you sighed, and got up on your tippy toes to put back all of the equipment. What you didn’t quite think about was the fact that the floral branch cutter was a lot heavier than you expected. You yelped in surprise when it suddenly started slipping out of your hands. 
Right as you closed your eyes and prepared yourself to get your foot smashed by it, you felt a warm hand on your lower back, and another one holding the cutter, grabbing your own hand in the process. You slowly opened your eyes, just to be met with Seungcheol’s face.
“Are you okay?” He sounded worried, concern written all over his face. “Yes, I’m okay,” you said, although you were sure it came out more like a whisper. “It was too heavy, and it kind of slipped out.” 
God, did you really have to embarrass yourself like that now? 
“Are you sure everything is alright?” He asked again, as if he didn’t believe your words. You nodded, letting go of the cutter, as he reached for the shelf with ease. “Let me help you with the rest,” he said, looking at the rest of your stuff that was laying on the countertop.
“Why didn’t you ask for help, you could’ve gotten hurt,” he scolded you, his eyes looking straight into yours. 
You didn’t know what to say. Why was he being so protective of you? 
“Shut it, he’s just being nice,” you thought, brushing off the warm feeling settling in your stomach. 
“I didn’t mean to sound rude before,” he suddenly said, fidgeting with his fingers. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of us. We’re kind of a lot,” he laughed, running a hand through his gorgeous hair.
His eyes had a certain softness to them, looking at you like you were something precious to him. But he looked at his members the same way, so it surely didn’t mean anything. 
“It’s okay,” you managed to hold your voice steady. “I’m happy you got to take some photos. It looks like you’re having fun,” you smiled at him, trying to memorise every detail of his face before he’d be gone - his golden brown eyes, the way his long black eyelashes would flutter, and his smile, that made your knees weak. 
“We do. It’s nice to do something like this after work,” he said, placing the last cutter on the shelf. “Is there anything else I could help you with?” 
You looked around the shop. “No, I think that was it.” 
“Okay,” it didn’t go unnoticed by you how he sounded almost upset. “I guess I’ll get back to the boys.” 
It was impossible for you to know that Seungcheol was freaking out about this even more than you were. 
He has seen you a couple of times before, when you were visiting Seokmin in the practice room, or at the backstage after a concert, yet he has never gotten a proper chance to talk to you, and introduce himself.
And Seungcheol was dying to do so.
He didn’t know when this crush started, probably around the time he noticed how his heart would beat a bit faster whenever he’d hear you laugh. 
“I just wanted to say that all of the bouquets are amazing,” he said, the moment you came to terms with the fact that this was the end of your conversation. “They’re really beautiful.” 
“Oh, thank you. I hope your staff members will love them as well.” 
“I’m sure they will,” Seungcheol said. “Who’s this one for?” he asked, pointing at the garden roses and dahlias. “It’s for a wedding.” 
“It’s roses and?” “Dahlias. My favourite,” you said, staring at the flowers. 
“Coups, could you come here for a second?” All of a sudden, Joshua’s voice echoed through the shop, making you eternally cry, because you knew that if Seunghceol would leave now, you’d never get to talk again. 
“Um, I guess I’ll see what he wants,” and with that Seungcheol walked away, leaving you disappointed and frustrated.
“Someone here has got a little crush,” Mingyu approached you right after Seungcheol left, with a smirk on his face and a weirdly suspicious expression. “What do you mean? We were just talking,” you tried to sound as nonchalant as you could, because there is no way he could know about your crush.
“I have never seen him so smiley and giggly with anyone he has just met before. His eyes are basically heart shaped when he looks at you,” he said, leaning on the counter next to you, his smirk only widening. “Besides, he kept looking in your direction all the time.”
A “what?” slipped past your mouth, making Mingyu laugh. “Well, it looks like he’s not the only one who’s a bit in love,” you smacked him on his shoulder. “I’m not in love, and neither is he.”
“Sure. Let’s get back to that when you’re at HYBE visiting your boyfriend,” he winked and walked away, leaving you stunned and speechless. 
“Okay guys, let’s wrap this up and get the bouquets which we really came here for,” said Seokmin, grabbing the first vase. 
“Remember to keep the tulips in full sun and to put the magnolias in water first thing when you get home,” you said, carefully helping them with each bouquet. “Seokmin, don’t hold them so tightly, you’ll break them,” you scolded your friend. 
“How come all of the gym rats came to help with something as delicate as flowers,” Seokmin wondered, shifting his grip on the flowers. “I’m not a gym rat,” Joshua said, earning a swat on the shoulder from Seungcheol. 
Saying your final goodbyes, each of the boys left with a bouquet, chatting and evidently more happy than you were. You tried to find Seungcheol amongst them, to take one last look, but he was nowhere to be seen. 
You hugged Seokmin as he was the last to leave. “Our leader must really like you,” he whispered to you quickly, running away with a laugh before you could reply. 
Closing the shop after them, you returned to the counter only to be met with a single dahlia laying there with a piece of paper next to it. 
“The flowers are really pretty, but I think you’re the prettiest.”
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judeswhore · 1 year
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easy fix; spencer reid
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summary: after spending weeks searching for ways to ease the burden of his headaches, spencer has finally found a solution. you.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
requested: no i’m feeding my own obsession
notes: silly little spencer reid fic bc i’m down bad and had to do it :)) short and fluffy
you had a feeling spencer wasn’t well from the moment he closed the front door behind him, satchel landing almost unceremoniously on the floor beside the shoe wrack. he toed off his shoes, his odd socks, one red stripes, one blue polka dots, making you smile softly over the top of your book, gaze tracking his movements as he sluggishly shuck his coat off and unwound his scarf. brows drawn in tight he rubbed his fingers just above his eyebrow, grimacing in pain as he dipped his head away from the light inside the apartment.
“hey, pretty boy,” you were laying on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest, book settled against your knees and you let it drop to your side when you fully turned your attention to your boyfriend. he seemed to be in a world of his own and he startled slightly at the sound of your voice, blinking a few times as though to clear the fog in his head, his deer in the headlights look curling the smile at your lips even more. “everything okay?”
"yeah, yeah, just tired i think, long day. have you already eaten?" spencer kept massaging his fingers over his forehead, eyes squinting until you weren't sure if they were even open anymore. he dropped his sunglasses on to the table beside the door, his keys following suit and you suddenly understood. he was having one of his bad days and unless you approached the topic first, he would more than likely go straight to bed without asking for anything.
"hmm," you hummed noncommittally. "i made lasagna, there's some left over for you if you want it?" spencer shook his head and finally made his way towards you, fingers tugging a little to loosen the knot of his tie, top button popped open to show the soft skin of his throat. he fell back on to the sofa with a sigh, his free hand reaching to pull your feet over into his lap but before he could you were sitting up, shuffling as close as possible so you could help with his tie. "how bad is the headache?"
"what? i don't-"
"spence." he grimaced even more at your tone, his nose scrunching in that adorable way that never failed to make your heart thump. you slowly undid his tie, pulling it from around his neck and draping it over the back of the sofa.
"a little worse than usual but i think i just need to sleep. you know, lack of sleep has been proven to lower the body's pain threshold which makes them more susceptible to headaches and explains why they're often more painful." spencer sent you a sheepish half smile before his eyebrows scrunched and he turned from the lamp sitting on the small coffee table. "and i've not exactly had a lot of sleep in the last week."
"so, what i'm hearing, doctor reid, is that i need to take you to bed immediately?" his lips suddenly lifted into a smile and he gave a little shrug.
"that's usually the best remedy for most things." your smile matched his, your hand gently patting his chest before you leant in and pressed a single soft kiss to his mouth. the smallest bit of contact had him humming happily, his smile only growing when you tilted and kissed his cheek. pushing yourself up you brushed his hair back off his forehead.
"i'm gonna make you some tea, do you wanna go up and i'll bring it?"
"i can make-"
"go take that suit off, i'll be five minutes." spencer was still sitting in the same spot when you reached the kitchen door, his gaze locked on your back, eyes soft with adoration and love over how you were always so willing to make him feel better no matter what. you threw him a playfully scolding look over your shoulder.
"spencer reid, you better be upstairs and undressed by the time i'm finished making this."
his suit was gone when you stepped into the bedroom and he was sprawled on his back in only a pair of red checkered pants, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other against his stomach. messy hair and the tantalising happy trail made your stomach dip, his effect on you still as strong as the first time you met him. the room was mostly dark, the only light the small bedside lamp which was dimmed to the lowest setting.
"jj wants to go for brunch tomorrow." spencer spoke up, his voice quiet and a little lower than usual, the early signs of sleep already evident. he peeked at you from beneath his arm, eyes still squinted beneath furrowed brows.
"will she be bringing henry?"
"he wants to show you that he learnt how to ride his bike."
"he did?" your smile was instantaneous as you thought about spencer's godson, a look casting over your features that the man in front of you couldn't quite grasp. he watched with lowered lashes as you placed his chamomile tea on the nightstand before climbing on to the bed.
"mhm, he can ride for a whole minute he says. you didn't make yourself tea?"
"no, i'm okay. c'mere." patting your lap you gestured for spencer to rest his head there, his hand curling quickly around your thigh as he got himself comfortable. he nuzzled his nose against your bare skin, the material of your shorts having ridden up and left a soft kiss behind that had warmth spreading through your chest. "can you turn so i can put this on for you?"
“what is it?”
“migraine patch, i bought you a new box when i was at the store yesterday.” spencer shifted a little so he was facing the ceiling, gaze soft on yours, smile just a little lopsided and he lifted his hand to prod his finger into your cheek.
“always taking care of me.”
“hotch pays me monthly.” you caught his eye roll as you brushed his curls back from his forehead, finger tips grazing lovingly over his hairline. spencer stayed silent and watched as you opened the migraine patch, pressed it lightly against the centre of his forehead and smoothed it down into place.
a deep sigh blew past his lips when you gently rubbed your thumb across the patch, eased the slight tension between his still furrowed brows. your touch was light and comforting and within seconds he was letting his eyes fall closed, the grimace he’d been wearing on and off since coming home smoothing out just slightly. the tip of your finger trailed down the bridge of his nose and swept beneath his eye. the dark circles were prominent, days old bags tugging painfully at your heart because it was obvious it had been a while since your boyfriend had gotten a full nights sleep.
leaning down you pressed a fleeting kiss to his closed eyelid. “try get some sleep okay?” his reply was a nod and then he was guiding your hand into his hair, quietly urging you to ease the dull throbbing with your fingers. doing as he wanted, you slowly massaged the tips into his scalp, pressure light but just enough to have him melting into you, the tension in his face relaxing even further. you worked your thumb carefully into his temple before sweeping it over his eyebrow and rubbing into the space between them.
it wasn’t long before spencer’s breathing started to even out, the steady rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful look on his face an obvious indication that he’d finally fallen asleep. he looked at ease, pretty pink lips parted to let out soft snores, the twisted look of discomfort he’d been wearing now smoothed out and you let your lips tilt into a gentle smile. again you traced your finger over his nose and the curve of his lips.
“goodnight, spence.”
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