#really escaped and I’m free or whatever other cheesy thing I could say but I MEAN IT
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#recovery from living in a dysfunctional / abusive home is such an uphill battle but fr the little things mean the most to me#I’ve been thinking abt it a lot lately but I just#doing mundane tasks - like chores - and just having the realization I’m relaxed. I’m comfortable. I’m not anxious. it#idk it just makes me rlly hold on to every little moment lately bc I finally feel like I’ve#really escaped and I’m free or whatever other cheesy thing I could say but I MEAN IT#I feel like I’m finally healing from living with my parents for 22 stupid years
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request! headcanons for when the reader surprises her bf by showing up (at a match? at school? at work? at the cafe? your choice) after a LOONG time of not meeting each other due to LDR or other commitments for Oikawa, Bokuto, Iwa and Akaashi!! thank you in advanced :)
I’VE BEEN SO BUSY LATELY 🥺🥺 I miss writing sm, my modules are still kicking my ass huhu
Anywayy, I made a bunch of headers (or dividers? idk what you call them??) instead of listening to my teacher during my zoom meetings 😌✌️ Are they alright? Or do you guys prefer the previous format?
It would happen right before a really big match, as per usual he was surrounded by a gaggle of excited fans trying to get his autograph or get a photo with him, he almost didn’t notice the familiar figure watching just a few feet away
Oikawa would freeze the moment he locked eyes with you and he’d gasp so loudly and so dramatically
He’d drop whatever he was holding, he didn’t care if it was his phone, his drink, it didn’t matter since he needed his arms free to wrap you in his arms
He’d run over to you in record speed, yelling out your name excitedly, basically pushing past the crowd of people surrounding him
He would honestly start tearing up, he was so excited for this match and all he wanted was for you to be there and now you were!!
“Oh my god, (Y/N)! Why didn’t you tell me anything??”
He would not be able to separate himself from you, you two were probably just standing in the middle of the crowded corridor hugging each other for who knows how long despite all the people that were trying to pass by
But again, Tooru didn’t care, why should he when he finally has you in his arms again
He would pepper your entire face with kisses, making you grow bright red but you loved it of course because who wouldn’t??
He was 5000x more hyped for that match now that he knew you were watching up at the stands, cheering him on
Needless to say he completely destroyed his opponent
He was just walking around the main area of the venue after his game, browsing for t-shirts with cheesy lines about being the ace and such
He’d see you out of the corner of his eye and be like “Oh, it’s (Y/N).” and continue walking by before doing the most dramatic double take while screaming “OH MY GOD, IT’S (Y/N)!”
Everyone in the general vicinity just froze and whipped their heads towards you two but of course, this goes unnoticed by either of you as Bokuto basically sonics his way towards you, still screaming your name excitedly
He’d immediately scoop you up with his herculean arms and twirl you around, asking a million questions
“WHEN DID YOU GET HERE? WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME?? DID YOU WATCH THE GAME? HOW HAVE YOU GOTTEN EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL—”
He only really stops yelling when you two get to properly hug, he’d bury his face on the top of your head, kissing it slightly and taking in the scent of your shampoo which he didn’t realize he missed so much
You’re going to have to pry yourself off of him because he physically cannot let go of you
He’s also going to cling next to you for the rest of the day, his hand will always be intertwined with yours or at the small of your back
He just got out of the most boring lecture in the entire world, he was practically half asleep as he dragged himself out of the building
The only thing keeping him conscious was the fact that he was in a call with you at the moment, ranting all about his classes, about Oikawa, and about how much he missed you
“I’m literally so sleepy right now, you should see how I look right now.”
“I think you still look handsome though, maybe even more so than usual.”
“What?”
He’d honestly think you were joking at first, he’d just chuckle and go on with the conversation
Even when your voice started to sound louder and louder, and started to echo slightly, he still didn’t realize that you were standing right behind him until you tapped him on his shoulder
His jaw would immediately drop and no words would escape his mouth as he struggled to comprehend what was happening
His brain would basically short circuit, please save him
Once he finally realized what was going one, he immediately cupped your face with his hands and kissed you deeply
After catching up and all that sweet lovey-dovey stuff, he’d actually start chastising you
“You should have told me you were coming, I could have picked you up at the airport. What if you got lost? What if something happened to you—”
He just can’t suppress his protective motherly instinct, especially when you’re involved
It was early in the morning and Akaashi had a class to attend later on in the day so he thought he’d do some work in his favorite cafe to kill some time
You two used to love having dates at that cafe, you two always stayed at this one specific table by the window so he always made a point to sit there when he could
He ordered his usual drink and went to the table to find someone already sitting there, staring right at him with a giddy little grin on their face
He’d just freeze mid-step, eyes widening into saucers as he stared at you
He was never a morning person and he had -3 hours of sleep that night so he honestly just thought he was hallucinating
Is that (Y/N)? No, it can’t be, they would have told me if they were coming. But they’re sitting right there, what the fuc—
He’d stand there for a few seconds just arguing internally with himself as his brain started to put two and two together
His face would break into a rare ear to ear smile as he ran over to you
As he got closer and closer to you, the butterflies in his stomach that he always felt near the beginning of your relationship returned once more
He honestly wouldn’t believe that you were actually there until you threw your arms around him, pressing kisses all over his face
He’d immediately press his lips against yours and kiss you in a way he never did before, as if he was making up for all the times he couldn’t when you were apart
He would usually never do this in public but he could hardly care now that you were finally here
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu fluff#oikawa tooru#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa x reader#oikawa#oikawa tooru headcanons#Bokuto Koutarou#bokuto x reader#bokuto#bokuto koutarou x reader#bokuto koutarou headcanons#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi#iwaizumi hajime x reader#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi hajime headcanons#akaashi keiji#akaashi#akaashi keiji x reader#akaashi x reader#akaashi keiji headcanons#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu hcs#hq hcs
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| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | [CHAPTER 5] [FINAL]
pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader
this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, restraints, blindfolds, daddy!kink, dirty talk, sex toys, using panties as a gag, forced orgasms, squirting! 🥴💕oMG YOU GUYS I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER WTF 😭😭😭 I just wanna say thank you so much for all the love and support you all have given me while writing Caffeine and Until I Met You I really cannot believe any of this… It’s crazy to me that you guys liked this fratboy wonwoo au so much… I really appreciate it! And expect some spin off chapters in the future! I already have 3 planned ☠️ Also, I mention it all the time but I never expect any of my fics to get this much love so every time I’m just shocked 😭 literally sitting here blushing just thinking about it 😭😭💕dfsdffds Also this is almost 4500 words so… strap in 😎🥴 Enjoy the last chapter, inbox roundup tmr and I love you so so so so much 💕
chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 COMPLETE
Wonwoo stares at himself in the mirror, lips pursed and brows furrowed.
“I don’t know.”
Mingyu and Minghao both sigh; the latter throwing his arms up in defeat when Wonwoo grimaces in the mirror’s reflection. “Hyung, you haven’t liked anything we dressed you in. Why don’t you trust us?”
Mingyu places his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulders - squeezing the padding in the blazer as he meets the older male’s stare in the mirror.
“This is a date, right?”
“I mean… Yeah? I guess?” Wonwoo mumbles, a little bit shy. “I just don’t want her to think I’m trying too hard. I’m not trying to propose to her, you know. Just trying to get in the foot in the door towards the right direction.”
Minghao steps forward, sighing and shaking his head.
“Yeah, that’s true. But also… Isn’t think your first, real, official date with her? Don’t you want it to be special?”
This time Wonwoo laughs at the pair's dramatics - already shrugging off the blazer as Mingyu’s hands fall from his shoulders.
“God, the two of you make it seem like I’ve never dated a day in my life.”
“Hyung, aren’t you also kind of acting like that yourself? You asked us to help you dress for it in the first place.”
A crimson flush paints Wonwoo’s cheeks at Mingyu’s words; lips pressing into a firm line as he avoids their shit eating grins.
Goddamn it.
“Whatever, just show me other outfits you guys have.”
Wonwoo tells you to meet him in front of the library at 10AM.
‘It’s somewhere familiar.’ He says.
You’d rolled your eyes but agreed - already standing in front of the familiar doors ten minutes earlier than your agreed meeting time.
Part of you was extremely giddy and excited and the other parts of you were nervous and anxious at what Wonwoo had planned for today.
‘Did you have any suggestions for our date?’
Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek as he sends you the text - palms clammy as he sighs.
‘You should ask for her opinion, hyung. Let her know you value her!’ Mingyu had said.
Wonwoo knows that.
But he blames being away from home a little too long for his airheadedness about it all. Tells himself it’s because he was gone for so long that he doesn’t really know how to act anymore.
Deep down inside, Wonwoo knows it’s really just because you make his heart do backflips when you smile at him and he just never knows how to respond except by shooting you an awkward tight lipped smile of his own.
He’ll call you beautiful all day long and praise you until you beg him to stop but something about the candid moments in between the pleasure that are the moments that make him feel like he’s falling in love for the first time all over again.
But Wonwoo wouldn’t quite admit that to you right now.
‘What would your ideal date be, Wonwoo?’
He runs late by ten minutes.
Soft curses spill from his lips the entire time he jogs over - the flower bouquet in his clammy hand getting crushed slightly at the death grip he has on it.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m late!”
Wonwoo rambles on about how Minghao wouldn’t stop chasing him with a bottle of hairspray but your shaking pupils can only focus on the poor bouquet of flowers being throttled in the midst of Wonwoo’s animated retelling.
“A--are those for m-me?” You whisper; cutting him off as his eyes flit down to his hand.
“O-oh, um, yes, f-for you…” He passes you the bouquet - a shy smile on his face when you take it from his hands.
He’d picked them out himself after deciding on his own that he wanted to do something special for you.
Wanted it to mean something important.
“A dried flower bouquet?”
Wonwoo smiles sheepishly as he scratches the back of his head.
Was it too cheesy?
“They’re already dried so they’ll technically last forever now.”
You’re glad, for once, that you can manage to hold in the scream that almost escapes you when you look up to Wonwoo’s bespectacled face.
“O-oh… Thank you, Wonwoo.”
You want to learn about Wonwoo.
What he likes and dislikes and what he likes to do in his free time. You have a vague idea of it all, but you want to hear it from him directly.
You want him to turn to you and openly talk to you like you’ve been lovers for much longer.
He holds your hand as he guides you through the museum, but he’s oddly quiet and aloof when you try to pull him into conversations.
“Wonwoo, I--”
“Hey look, it’s a Hannah Höch piece. She’s one of the artists that pioneered that collaging thing Mingyu likes to do.” You lose him again as he reads off a biography off the wall and you can’t help but furrow your brows at his back.
You’d ask him over lunch.
The two of you spend a good few hours at the museum.
Although, admittedly, you spend more of that time following Wonwoo around as he silently admires the pieces instead of talking to you.
But by the time lunch is rolling around, he walks you over to a small hole in the wall cafe; flowers adorning the entrance and large windows letting in the sunlight as the two of you sit in a small nook away from most of the other customers.
“So, I--”
“Wonwoo, can I ask you a question?”
He tilts his head in mild confusion at your perplexed tone. “Sure?”
It takes a few seconds of you opening and closing your mouth, unsure of where to start before you sigh.
“So… is this a date?”
Wonwoo scratches the back of his head, ears and cheeks hot as you stare back at him. “I just–I want to understand where we are, Wonwoo. Or what we are, I guess.”
There’s a sigh on his lips and out of nervousness, all he can do is readjust his glasses for the third time.
“I told you I was bad at this.”
He was nervous the entire time the two of you were at the museum and he didn’t know how to let you know so he just didn’t.
He was hoping that he would’ve had the confidence like he usually did.
“I’m sorry, I know, I--I should’ve tried talking but god, you make me so fucking nervous?” He laughs at his own shyness as he runs a free hand through his hair, fully messing up the styling that Minghao had painstakingly done.
“I make you nervous?”
Oh god.
“I--yeah. You really do.” He smiles genuinely at you before his shy eyes focus on the cup of coffee in front of himself. “I know it’s hard to believe, all things considered, but you really do and sometimes I don’t know how to handle myself so I just… Don’t. And I know it’s not fair and I’m super fucking aware I do it too, I just--I can be bad at words sometimes, I guess.”
You try to keep your cool as you nod; lips easing into a soft smile as you stare at Wonwoo dreamily.
You make him nervous.
Letting it go for now, you stir your drink; thinking of ways to get Wonwoo to be more talkative but not in a nervous, panicked way.
“Hey, why don’t you tell me about your semester abroad?”
That manages to do the trick as Wonwoo spends the rest of the lunch portion of your date telling you various anecdotes of his trip.
And you learn that other than the long lectures and midday naps, his eyes light up at the stories he tells you about when they were actually at the archeological dig sites.
“It was so interesting to see remnants of what used to roam the earth before we did and to see little artifacts of old cities. I could’ve spent all day out there just excavating.”
“D’you think you’ll go again if you get the chance?”
Wonwoo squeezes your hand as the two of you walk out of the little cafe - already heading towards the last destination that he’d picked out.
“It’d be nice to.” He grins cheekily at you. “But maybe next time we could go together?”
You end up having to take a taxi to get to the final location.
‘It’d be too far to walk for you, pretty baby~’ Wonwoo had cooed.
The car stops after about 35 minutes and while he pays the fare, you step out to read the sign in front of the large domed building.
‘Planetarium.’
“You okay, baby?”
“Hmm? Y-yeah! I’m just… Wow, I don’t think I’ve been here in… ever.” You laugh awkwardly as Wonwoo places a gentle hand on the small of your back.
“I thought it’d be nice and quiet. We could just... Enjoy each others’ company. And talk. Finally.”
The two of you are quiet when you walk in but Wonwoo tells the receptionist that he’s booked a private room which makes your cheeks warm up.
He’d definitely gone the extra mile.
The two of you are led to a smaller room - just enough to fit ten or so people except it’s only you and Wonwoo once the receptionist shuts the door and leaves you be.
“Shall we?” You nod as you take a seat in one of the recliners; setting your things down into the seat next to you as Wonwoo takes the seat on your other side. The two of you get comfortable as you stare up into the projected night sky - only the buzzing of the projectors in the small room filling up the silence as you start to relax.
Wonwoo reaches for your hand in the darkness and you feel yourself jolt in surprise when he tugs you a little closer to himself.
“Have you ever heard the story of the sun and moon?”
“Hmm? Which one? Aren’t there a lot?”
He closes his eyes, sighing softly as he relaxes in the darkness.
“It’s that old story about how the Sun loved the Moon so much that he died for her every night so that she could breathe. He thought she was so beautiful when she’d glow but the Moon knew their fates were decided in different paths. So the Sun would see her in passing, short glimpses, right before he disappeared beyond the horizon. It’s a romantic story about sacrifice and star crossed lovers.”
“Is that what we are?”
Wonwoo lets out a loud laugh; eyes forming crescents as his glasses slide down his nose bridge.
“No, I think our story is much more fortunate than that.”
Black is Wonwoo’s favorite color.
“A-ah, hold on…!”
He likes to take naps when he’s not working or in his classes and sometimes spends his time playing PC games with his frat brothers until 3 in the morning.
“Wo--Wonwoo!”
He doesn’t have a ton of hobbies but he’s been thinking about videography lately since Mingyu’s brought it up.
“Baby, h-hold on, I’m gonna drop you if you don’t stop flailing!”
And he’s already thinking about taking a film class next semester and maybe quitting his job at the library to focus.
He tells you his favorite hyung is Seungcheol, ‘because he buys food all the time’ and his favorite dongsaeng is Seokmin, ‘because he cries easily so you know his heart is always in the right place.’
“Okay, finally!”
Wonwoo all but kicks the door to his room open, carrying you inside before he kicks it shut.
He lays you down gently on the bed as you giggle; a gentle smile on his face when he lays down next to you.
“I don’t know why you wanted to carry me up the entire flight of stairs but thank you.”
“Think of it as my sun sacrificing for your moon.”
You roll your eyes at his sudden cheesiness and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself rolling onto your side and immediately reaching for Wonwoo’s face as you tug him into a heated kiss.
“Mmph!”
He’s taken by surprise at first but quickly melts into it himself; eyes closing and hands reaching for your body when you start to roll on top of him.
His lips are soft and his kisses slow - the taste of coffee lingering on his lips and tongue when your lips part for him.
You’re reminded of his soft and gentle touches from a few days prior when you moan against his mouth and he’s quick to thread a hand through your hair before he flips your positions so that you’re underneath him instead.
“Mmh… Wonwoo…”
He kisses you on the lips one more time before he pulls away and takes his glasses off.
“I have one more thing for you to conclude our date.”
“Oh? A gift?”
“You can say that…”
He gets up from the bed and walks over to his closet - fetching a small box that he brings back to the bed as you sit up on your elbows.
“Wait, you’re not actually proposing, are you? On the first date?” Snorting, he takes the lid off and empties the contents of the box onto the bed.
“Depends. There’s definitely a cock ring in this pile somewhere.”
‘You can use anything in this box on me tonight. I wanna give you the freedom.’
“You look… wow.”
You try your best to not go over the top with the toys but you couldn’t help yourself when you reached for the blindfold and the set of handcuffs; shaky fingers helping Wonwoo get into position against the headboard before you had locked the handcuffs into place and wrapped the blindfold around his head.
“Everything you dreamed about, baby? Having me at your mercy?” He smirks and even through the blindfold, you already know his eyes are smoldering and staring holes into you as you sit on his thighs.
“Maybe we should switch off every now and again ‘cause you look really good like this, Wonwoo…”
“Hah, well, let’s see how well you do, hmm, princess? Maybe if you do a good job, I might let you.”
Gulping, your eyes flit down his half naked body and yours before you reach for one more thing from the box; turning it on and letting it buzz to life as Wonwoo tenses up slightly.
He holds his breath and anticipates it but he’s still not as prepared as he thinks when you press the vibrator against his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs.
“Oh--s-shit!”
The sensations feel even stronger with his eyes covered by the blindfold and his arms bound above his head and no matter how much he wants to tug against his restraints, he knows he can’t do anything.
Your mouth is agape at the way Wonwoo squirms underneath you and for a moment, you wonder if this is what he sees when you’re the one squirming underneath him.
“You’re not usually this sensitive… daddy~”
The teasing lilt in your voice has Wonwoo clenching his jaw before he huffs. “Daddy’s not used to being the one tied up, sweetheart.”
He opens his mouth to comment again, only a soft moan floating past his lips as he thrusts up against the vibrator. You don’t do anything other than hold it against his clothed cock but it’s enough for him to want to give in and switch places with you already - even though it’s only been minutes since you started.
Wonwoo tells himself control is something he needs to learn how to manage.
You can’t help but touch yourself while you hold the toy against him; biting your lip to hold in your noises when you gently run your fingers over your clothed mound.
“Sweetheart…”
“Y-yes, daddy?”
Grinning, Wonwoo can already tell by the shakiness of your voice that you’re affected too and he can’t help but want his hands roaming all over your skin.
“You should have all your fun now while you can~”
Gulping, you heed the warning in his voice as you set the vibrator to its highest setting, causing Wonwoo to let out a broken cry as the vibrations make his entire body tremble and try to shy away from the toy.
“G--god, fuh--fuck, ngh…”
His moans have your pussy clenching around emptiness and your fingertips only press harder into the wet patch of your panties at the way he tugs against his restraints.
“D-daddy… I--Can I sit on your cock now? I can’t w-wait any longer, you look so good…”
“O-oh? Watching daddy being a little bit submissive got your panties all wet, huh, princess? Are you wet enough to take daddy’s cock already?”
“Mmhmm…”
You turn off the toy and pull it away from him, watching his body go slack before you shimmy off of his lap to take off your panties.
A grin etches itself onto your face as you hold the wet material in your hands. “Daddy? Do you wanna know how wet I am?”
You can see Wonwoo’s brows furrow from above the blindfold but he nods once, lips parted slightly as he catches his breath. Goosebumps are all over his skin and he can feel you starting to grind down onto his clothed cock as your wetness soaks into the material of his boxer briefs.
“Oh, sweetheart, I--mmph!”
Giggling, you stuff the fabric between his parted lips - muffling anything he was going to say after as you grind down onto him harder. “Mmh, daddy you’re so hard… ‘m gonna make myself cum on your cock now, okay~?”
Only what you can assume are muffled curse words fall from his lips when you scoot back down to his thighs, tugging his boxer briefs down before wrapping a hand around his cock.
You lean over and let saliva drip from your mouth to the head of his cock - smearing the spit and his precum up and down his shaft as you prolong his teasing before giving himself, and yourself, what you both really want.
“Daddy, I wish you could see yourself right now~ I can tell how much you wanna feel my cute ‘lil pussy wrapped around your cock… Squeezing you and making you feel good too~”
Wonwoo can only groan around the fabric, hips thrusting up into your palm.
“And I’m so wet now too… But daddy always gets me sooo wet…” You shimmy back up his body, positioning his cock at your entrance before you start to sink down slowly. “A-ah, sliding into my hot ‘lil cunt like you w-were made for me, daddy…”
The amount of expletives Wonwoo’s screamed into the soaked material is uncountable at this point, but he says a mental prayer thanking the powers up above when he’s finally fully seated in your warmth - cock already curving deliciously into your g-spot as you mewl.
“Mmh, I could cum like this… Your cock is s-so big it’s already filling me up s-so good and--and touching all the p-places inside me that make me w-wanna cum…”
You grind atop his lap, swiveling your hips before removing your bra and tossing it off to the side. “Ngh… daddy…” Your hands roam your skin, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples as you whimper and clench down onto Wonwoo’s cock harder.
“Nod once if you wanna see me, daddy~ Or nod twice if you wanna talk to me~”
Wonwoo grits his teeth - you could really be evil when you wanted to.
But he nods once, sharply, to let you know he’s not happy he can’t have both. You laugh softly in return, leaning up to remove the silk ribbon from his eyes.
He blinks rapidly to adjust to the dimmed room, eyes on your naked body in a flash as you go back to teasing yourself.
“Do you like what you see, daddy?”
Wonwoo gulps, this time nodding shakily as he watches you pinch your nipples and cup your breasts. “Bet you wanna touch me too, huh, daddy?” He narrows his eyes - silently telling you to watch yourself.
“Hmm… s’not as fun when daddy doesn’t talk to me too~”
You smile at him teasingly before you reach over to pull the wet material from between Wonwoo’s lips and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chuckling - quietly yet enough to make you shiver.
“Hah, gotta hand it to you, princess...”
He doesn’t say anything more which makes you nervous so instead, you start bouncing on his lap, fingertips on your clit as you chase your pleasure.
This won’t last much longer, you think, I gotta take what I can get.
Soft mewls spill from your lips as you maintain eye contact with him and the way he just stares at you is enough to make you cry out.
“D-daddy, d--don’t, ah, look at m-me like that…”
“Like what, princess?”
You pinch your clit, eyes clamping shut when he shifts slightly underneath you.
A choked sob bubbles up your throat when you throw your head back and the pleasure washes over you - your orgasm hitting you hard as you swivel your hips faster.
“Oho, my pretty ‘lil princess is already cumming~ Your hot ‘lil cunt is sucking my cock in deeper while you cum… Don’t you want daddy to fuck you good and hard? Feel my cock fucking you so deep you feel it in your stomach?”
“O-oh, god, daddy…!” Your thighs shake as you rub quicker circles on your clit - milking your orgasm for what it’s worth before you would give back the control to Wonwoo.
“Or maybe daddy should fuck you slow… Let you feel every inch of me when I’m sliding in and out of your pretty ‘lil cunt… Make you beg for me and crave me so fuckin’ bad, just like you did to me?”
His laugh is cruel and makes you whimper; orgasm ebbing away as your fingers slow down and your hips come to a stop.
Gulping, you know the second the locks click on the handcuffs that Wonwoo would most likely make you pay for all your teasing.
But you fish for the keys lost in the bedsheets - shaky, sticky fingers reaching above the silent male underneath you as you start to undo the locks keeping him bound to the bed.
And it doesn’t take long.
“Ah…!”
Wonwoo does the rest of the work himself, tugging himself free and maneuvering you swiftly until you’re on your back; the air knocked out of your lungs at how quickly he moved.
“Daddy, I--”
The words die on your tongue when Wonwoo pushes your legs up to your chest, not even bothering to rid himself of his boxer briefs when he sinks his cock back into you.
In this position, Wonwoo holds all the control; cock slamming into your sensitive cunt as garbled noises fall from your lips.
“D--daddy, ‘m se--sensitive… ngh…”
Your cunt is like a vice grip around his cock as he snaps his hips hard and fast - this time chasing his own pleasure after all your teasing.
In all honesty, he would’ve cum if you kept the vibrator on his body any longer and he mentallly reminds himself to not let you know how easily it affected him.
“I know you’re sensitive, princess~ Which is why you’re gonna cum for me again.”
Wonwoo reaches between your bodies, rubbing quick circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb as you scream out his name.
“Oh--oh, god! Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo!”
“That’s right. Fuckin’ scream my name, princess. Who’s making you feel this good?”
“Y--You! Daddy! Fuck, ah, I--I can’t, I can’t, I--mmh!”
Wonwoo already starts to feel your body tense up with each thrust of his hips that has the head of his cock tapping your g-spot.
“You can and you will, princess.” He mutters, eyes focused on your face that contorts in absolute bliss. “Daddy wants to feel you cumming on his cock while he fucks you nice and deep. You take me so well, princess~ Fuckin’ taking all of me in your cute ‘lil cunt.”
Tears blur your vision as the pleasure starts to wash over you a second time - nothing leaving your lips except for an alternation of ‘Wonwoo’ and ‘daddy’ as your legs shake and toes curl.
“Fuck, princess…!”
Wonwoo’s cock is forced out of you as you cum hard; squirting all over his lower half as you cry out and convulse against the sheets.
The ringing in your ears is enough to block out anything he seems to say but he’s quick to wrap a hand around his cock and tap your swollen clit as he works you through your second high.
“Aww, my good ‘lil princess is so cute when she’s squirting all over daddy~ Making a big mess, too~” Your body jolts with each tap of his cock head against your clit and it only prolongs your orgasm as you thrash against his sheets.
“Da---daddy… I, hic, ‘m sor--sorry…”
When Wonwoo feels your body start to relax after a few tense minutes, he takes in your glowing form underneath him; thighs slicked with wetness and bed sheets soaked and crumpled underneath your bodies.
In a moment of gentleness, he lets your quivering legs down, fingertips massaging your tired body as he leans over you.
His lips are ghosting across your cheek as you open your teary eyes, soft cries still on your lips when he wipes at your tear stained cheek with the back of his fingers.
“You okay, princess?”
“Mm…”
“You wanna stop now? We can if you want.” His voice is barely above a whisper and the softness of it makes your body feel warm and sated when he kisses you gently. He repeats this a few more times as you catch your breath; leaving feather-light kisses all over your face as you mewl.
“You didn’t cum yet though, daddy…”
“I know, s’okay.” He smiles against your lips, “I want what you want… ‘Cause I really like you. And I’d really like to go on more dates with you, princess. And I wanna be able to tell everyone that I really like you too. And show you off to them and make them jealous that you’re mine. If you’ll let me. And learn with me.”
You giggle tiredly into his kiss, hazy eyes meeting his own.
You were happy.
And Wonwoo was too.
“Wanna start by grabbing me a glass of water from downstairs then, daddy?”
“Anything for you, my moon.”
“Does that really work?”
“What do you mean?”
“The ‘holding a cup to the door’ thing. Can you hear them?” Mingyu purses his lips at Minghao’s question.
“Not… really. Kinda just muffles it more.”
Jeonghan passes by the two currently hunched over each other in front of Wonwoo’s door; an incredulous look on his face.
“Why are the two of you listening in on them fucking? Fucking weirdos.”
Mingyu and Minghao both turn to look at the older male, lips pursed into a firm line “We’re not listening to them fucking, hyung. We’re trying to hear their conversation.”
Jeonghan laughs as he shakes his head.
“There’s absolutely no valuable conversation going on if she’s screaming ‘daddy’ so loud that Seungcheol is texting me about it from his bedroom. You should leave before Wonwoo finds out and decides to make rugs out of the two of you.”
“Ugh… Yes, hyung.”
💕
#wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#svt scenarios#svt imagines#uimy_meltwonu#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo#fratboy!svt
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Routines
Tim and Marinette lived busy lives.
It was by choice, of course.
They were both prominent figures in their fields that could pick and choose the assignments they wished to take, had more money than they could ever dream of using thanks to the hefty trust fund that being even tangentially related to Bruce Wayne provided, and no one would blame them if they were to lessen or give up their vigilantism. If they wished, there was nothing stopping them from taking a smaller workload, from using up all of their sick days, from taking vacations, from quitting their jobs entirely...
That being said, they likely never would.
And the tabloids loved to speculate on their relationship because of it. How could they spend much time together if Tim was always at work, developing new technology for Wayne Enterprises? Marinette was cheating, how could she not when so much of her job as a designer involved getting up close and personal with models? Not to mention all of the business trips. Surely, the relationship had some kind of monetary motivation, or maybe it was just to more seamlessly merge their companies, or it had only happened for PR reasons.
They let them speculate. They simply didn’t know better.
The tabloids didn’t get to see how they acted behind closed doors, after all.
There would be days where neither of them went in to work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.
~
They took breaks. Technically. If you squint.
There would be days where neither of them went into work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.
They would turn on the coffee machine and then make their way over to the sofa. Marinette would nestle herself into his side and smile as he wrapped his arm around her. He would pull her as close as he possibly could so he could still use both arms to type.
He usually took video calls like this. It was always so much easier to maintain a pleasant smile, even when people often looked down on him for his age, because whenever he felt it start to waver he could simply look down at his girlfriend and suddenly he would find that it would be back in full force.
She would prop her sketchbook on her legs and start on some new designs. The designs she did like this were always, inexplicably, more lively than the other ones -- full of vibrant colors and swooping curves in a way that some of her other works lacked. If asked, Marinette would joke that the secret ingredient was love.
And, sure, this wasn’t technically taking a break from work. They were still productive, still did tasks...
But they counted it. They always came back to work the next day with the same euphoric feelings in their chests, the same springs in their steps. How could they not? They’d spent the entire day doing what they loved with the person that they loved. Who could ever want a break from that?
~
Every time one of them came back from a business trip, they made sure to spend the night together.
Tim would lay back in bed, Marinette on top of him. Her head would come to rest on his chest, clutching the back of his shirt tightly. His fingers would find their way to her hair and she would huff a little, knowing that her hair was about to get hopelessly tangled as he fidgeted with the silky strands, but she would nuzzle into his chest all the same.
They would watch a TV show. It didn’t matter whether it was good or bad. As long as there were people and some semblance of a plot, they would gladly stay wrapped up in each other’s arms to watch it.
Tim would rattle off whatever theories he had developed as they came to mind. Some of them were absolutely insane, he knew, and would never happen… but it was worth making a fool of himself if it got Marinette’s face to light up or if he earned one of those little giggles that escaped her when he was instantly proven wrong.
Marinette would, at least, pause the show whenever she wanted to talk, though it wasn’t out of an understanding of how time works. No, it was so she could sit up a little in his lap and point at whichever character had offended her this time. She would go on long rants about how makeup was just as important as outfits in costuming, but it was often overlooked in favor of making the actors look pretty. And, maybe she had already said all of this before, but it’s important, Tim! And he would just nod his agreement. Because it was important -- a TV night certainly wouldn’t feel like a TV night without at least one rant.
And then the screen would go black, the most recent episode done.
Tim would draw back a little and then pretend to be shocked when his hands were stuck in her hair.
“Oh noooooo,” he’d say. “I guess I can’t let go yet.”
“How unfortunate,” she would deadpan.
He’d smile cheekily at her.
“Shut up.”
“But I didn’t even say anything!” He’d argue with overexaggerated offense.
She would smile, shaking her head as much as she could with the fingers in her hair. “You didn’t have to. You have a presence about you.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he’d say.
And, sometimes, she’d bring her hands up to cup his face. “Not sure if it was a compliment, but I definitely wouldn’t have it any other way,” she’d whisper before pulling him closer for a kiss.
… but, most of the time she would just laugh and say: “It wasn’t one.”
~
Once a month, Marinette tried to teach Tim to cook. Of course, they both knew it was a hopeless endeavor. He’d failed to make mac n’ cheese once, and Marinette -- who had lived the first eighteen years of her life in a Parisian bakery -- wasn’t good at discerning which meals were ‘easy to do’.
But that didn’t stop her from trying.
She would come up with a new recipe, would claim that this one was truly dummy proof…
And then Tim, dummy that he was, would manage to mess it up. Without fail, he would find some way to do something wrong. He would leave the milk on the stove and then be surprised when said milk on the stove decided to revolt against the system. He would raise the temperature on the thing they were baking so it would go faster and then be shocked when the cake didn’t rise at all. He would put too much in the mixer and then not understand why the contents had exploded over the two of them.
Worst thing was, she was pretty sure he was actually trying. He just… couldn’t seem to do it.
So, she would just kiss the disappointed frown off of his face and promise that they would do better next time.
And, every time without fail, he would light up.
“There will be a next time?” He would ask.
“Yeah. You’re lucky you’re cute, I can’t say I love being covered in ingredients.”
Tim would kiss her cheek, and then draw back and lick his lips. “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Something about my girlfriend being covered in tasty food really does something for me.”
“Like I said: you’re lucky you’re cute.”
And, even though she would say that, there was no mistaking the amusement dancing in her eyes.
~
They weren’t particularly religious, it was hard to be when Marinette had a god living in her earrings that obeyed her every command…
Which meant celebrations for the two of them were few and far between.
But, at least, they celebrated their anniversary.
They would sit on the rooftop, the blankets doing nothing to keep the hard tiles of the roof from digging into them and they did even less against the chilly Gotham air.
She’d stare up at the sky with him.
And, since it was Gotham, there were very few stars to be seen through the dark red and black haze of clouds that hung over the city.
But they didn’t mind.
Marinette smiled. “It’s our colors.”
He didn’t look over, watching the colors swirl above them. “Even the sky thinks we’re a good couple.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. The sky god really does have a thing for love.”
He gave a short puff of laughter and finally tore his eyes away from the sky. “Really?”
She shrugged, grinning at him. “No clue. There might not even be a sky god.”
He scoffed and untangled his hand from its blanket prison to give her a tiny shove. She could have dodged the attempt with ease, but she allowed the hand to make contact.
To her surprise, he grabbed ahold of her shoulder and pulled her into him. She gave an undignified little squeak and, if it weren’t for the fact that he was right there, she would have probably faceplanted onto the tile.
But, instead, her face came crashing into his soft, pillowy shoulder.
She looked up at the crooked grin that she had come to love over the years and huffed, pulling her own arms free so she could shove him. For real.
He flopped back, the hand he’d managed to get out coming to rest over his chest as if he were hurt.
“How could you? Roofs hurt, you know.”
“Well, yeah, if you throw yourself down on tiles it’s not going to feel too great.”
He cracked a grin, though he quickly tamped it down to keep up the act: “Victim blaming at its finest.”
She rolled her eyes and leaned over him. One of her hands cradled his cheek, her thumb tracing the tiny scar on his cheekbone.
He looked up at her. And she thought, somewhere, that maybe the reason the pollution in the city was just some kind of coverup so no one would know that they all resided in Tim’s eyes.
And then she cursed herself mentally for thinking something so cheesy.
She had to make up for it somehow:
“You’re the worst, I hope you know that.”
“I am. But you love me anyway.”
Dang it. How was she supposed to feign being annoyed when he looked at her like that? With that soft smile and thick lashes and hair that framed his face just so.
She decided it wasn’t worth trying to pretend.
Marinette let herself match his smile.
“I do.”
“Save those words for our wedding,” he joked softly.
She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even proposed yet.”
“I could be doing that right now. Who knows, this could all be my plan.”
“It’d be a good plan,” she said. “I’d probably say yes.”
He narrowed his eyes just slightly. “Isn’t that essentially you proposing to me?”
She tipped her head to the side, considering, then she laughed a little. “I guess it kind of is. So, Tim, will you marry me?”
His eyes widened to an almost comical degree.
And then his face lit up with a smile that made her heart flutter.
“I hope you know I want a ring.”
She giggled. “Just say yes, you idiot. We can always get the ring tomorrow.”
His smile only stretched further. “Yes. I’d love to marry you.”
“I love you,” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips brushed against his.
“I love you, too,” he breathed.
Marinette didn’t hesitate any longer, tilting her head to give him a proper kiss. He freed himself of the blanket and she gasped a little against his lips as he wrapped her up in it as well, drawing her close.
She pulled away just a little, her forehead coming to rest against his. She couldn’t seem to get the dopey smile off of her face, but she wasn't completely sure she even wanted it gone.
“I proposed first, so I won,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.
He smiled. “No, I did.”
#i did the impossible and got 100 subs on ao3#so i figured id attempt the impossible again#its all fluff#not a single swear#AND its a oneshot#i did it i did the impossible we can all go home now#(please dont leave lol)#maribat#routines#shutterbug#timari#timmari#timinette#red robin#tim drake#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug
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Just Lost (George Weasley x reader)
Request: hhii could i request a scenario with george weasley and his girlfriend talking about something really passionately and george just gets really lost in her eyes and says something like "God i want to marry you right now" extra cute and fluffy, thankyou so much stay safe and healty <3
Hey thank you so much for sending a request! I hope you are safe and healthy as well, and sorry for taking so long with this.
A/N: No, I do not know if Alicia Angelina or Katie have been to an amusement park before.
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It was an exhausting week for you and everyone at Hogwarts. The OWLs were just around the corner, and with the teachers finishing lessons so quickly, it was hard to keep up and absorb as much information.
Currently you were in the common room getting a headache at all your textbooks and papers sprawled out on the low table, huffing as you couldn’t even know where to begin.
“Studying?” asked a girl who made out to be Angelina Johnson who made her way towards the seat next to you.
“Yeah, I don’t even know what my name is.” you joked lightly. Alicia and Katie came over as well.
“Need help studying, (y/n)?” asked Katie.
“Don’t you guys need to study too?”
“We can study together!” suggested Alicia.
You spent a few minutes of organizing your notes, the four of you finally got a start of studying for the exams. It was gonna be a long week. You were deep in thought when suddenly some familiarly loud voice entered from the portrait hole.
“GOOOOOOOD EVENING LADIES!!!” announced Fred and George with their arms comically wide open. Several other students made faces, either scoffing at making so much noise or snorting for being embarrassing. You happened to fit into the first group.
“George, Fred, shut up will you?” you said partially joking. The girls giggled, making you give them a look for laughing for their loud remark.
“Sorry darling, just wanted to make sure you know when I’m in the same room as you.” said George plopping down on the couch next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Oh believe me, I know.” you retorted, smiling when you could see your boyfriend chuckle himself in the corner of your eye.
“Ew studying? Count me out.” said Fred putting his hands up in surrender and jogging to his dorm as if to escape.
“So what were you two up to?” Katie asked George. You still focused on your paper, but letting your free hand hold his as you listened to the conversation.
“No good probably.” you replied. George perked up at your statement immediately and pinched your nose. You giggled and pulled away from his grip.
“Actually-” he said, sitting up a lot straighter. “I’ll have you girls know, I’m always on my best behaviour.”
“Right...” said Angelina shaking her head.
“Did this best behaviour have anything to do with Ron and spiders?” you asked, knowing your boyfriend too well. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it.
“And if it does?” he quipped, curious of what direction you’d take it in.
“Then, that means my boyfriend is normal.” you said kissing his cheek lightly. George and Fred (surprisingly) did not prank Ron today, but despite that he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to play around with you.
“Then I one hundred percent pranked Ron with a toy spider.” he said proudly. You chuckled at this, the girls shaking their heads at each other also knowing George wouldn’t do any less.
“Anyway, how was your day love?” George asked.
“It was alright, but this week’s gonna be full of books and my hand is probably gonna fall off from writing.” you sighed.
“Well, I don’t wanna bother you then...” he said. Your heart throbbed, you knew you had to study but you wanted him to stay. Your boyfriend’s support- even if it meant making cheesy remarks was all you wanted. But as you were about to tell him to stay, it seems like he already had that in mind.
“... with that being said-” George reposition his whole six foot self on the couch so that his head rested in your lap. You thought it was quite silly that George’s legs had to squeeze in so much so he could fit and be comfortable.
You rolled you eyes and ran your hands through his hair, which looked even more fiery red due to the light of the fireplace.
“Goodnight then Georgie.” you said sweetly.
“‘Night darling.” he said closing his eyes.
Throughout the evening you managed to get a decent amount of studying done. You also took breaks with the girls talking about things like rethinking your life choices such as why you decided to take potions and torture yourself.
“When this year is over, I can’t wait for the summer holidays.” said Angelina with a relaxed sigh in her tone.
“We should totally hangout together sometime.” you suggested, while writing the last of the lesson’s notes.
“Where should we go?”
“Maybe the beach? It would be so fun eating ice cream and swimming.” said Alicia. The three of you nodded with words of agreement. You could only imagine the things you could do relishing in the sunlight with your friends.
“We should go to Angie’s house, she has a nice couch.” said Katie. Angelina playfully slapped her arm and rolled her eyes. You and Alicia lauged- it was a running joke that ever since Katie went to Angelina’s once, that her couch was apparently very comfortable.
“Or the amusement park? It might be a long drive but it would be so much fun.” you suggested.
“The amusement park? I’ve never been to one before.” said Alicia sheepishly. The rest of you gasped dramatically and yelled ALICIA as if to say “oh my god.” You didn’t notice that it happened to wake up your sleepy boyfriend who’s head was still on your lap.
“The amu- what now?”
“GEORGE- you scared me.” you said clutching your chest and looking down where his sleepy eyes were slowly opening.
“Sorry darling.” he said sweetly, bringing his hand up to stroke your cheek. You sighed in content, how lucky were you to be with George.
“So what’s this about an amoo-whatever park?” he asked, still resting in your lap.
If this was looked at from a distance, you, Angelina and Katie would look like maniacs, talking your arses off about amusement parks as Alicia shrunk into her seat looking both horrified but amazed.
“Hello? George are you listening to me?”
To George though, you never looked more pretty.
When you started dating, George always loved hearing you talk since you were naturally more quiet before warming up to him. He loved the reactions you made when he said something that he definitely wouldn’t say in front of his mom, and especially the smile from when he made you happy. Seeing you so passionate and excited about something felt really special to George.
You couldn’t remember what you were in the middle of talking about, whether it was about funnel cake or the roller coasters.
“God, I want to marry you right now.”
Your mouth dropped, along with the other girls’. You couldn’t help the furious blush coating your cheeks as you relished in what your boyfriend just said. It wasn’t until a few seconds later he seemed to realize what he said.
“Well what are you waiting for lover boy?” interrupted Fred who burst out from his dorm again. George groaned, blushing himself. The girls cooed at how cute you two were being.
“George...” you said covering your blush with your hand.
“Oh Merlin... I didn’t- I mean I did but...” George stumbled over his words as he got up from his sleeping position and rested his head down on your shoulder as if to scold himself for blurting that out.
“I just got so lost in your eyes.” he said blushing and smiling apologetically.
“Yeah or maybe you’re just lost in general.” you said trying to get rid of the red. The girls giggled.
“Ah, young love...- all of us better be the bridesmaids.” teased Alicia.
“You- oh quiet you guys, we’re not talking about that. ANYWAY, FUNNEL CAKE!” you announced as George naturally clung onto you by wrapping his arms around you. The girls and you continued the conversation, until George whispered something in your ear, and you’d be lying if it didn’t make your heart swell.
“After all this, I definitely plan to marry you...
“...And we can go to that a-museum-mint park thing.”
#fred and george#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley imagine#george weasley fluff#george weasley fanfic#george weasley oneshot#george weasley one shot#weasley twins
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Hello there may I request the Dimitrescu daughters celebrating their s/o birthday, it’s my birthday today☺️
Happy belated birthday, anon!!! Wishing you many more happy (and hopefully less chaotic) years to come! Under read more for length.
Bela + Birthday
On one hand, she wants to be the first thing you see when you wake up. On the other hand, she’s got a million things planned, and no matter how much help she enlists, she’s bound to end up running late. So maybe she’s not the first thing you see, but she’s crawling into your bed before you have a chance to fully wake up. Wrapping her arms around you, murmuring ‘good morning’ and ‘I love you’ into your ears. Sleepy kisses all around<3
Will stay with you for as long as you want, but will ‘subtly’ encourage you to get up eventually, after all she’s spent the past month planning this day. It’s possible that she’ll end up slowly sliding out of bed, an inch a minute, saying ‘no more kisses until you get up’.
Once you’re out of bed, it’s time for a decadent breakfast. A whole buffet table filled with your favorites (the ones appropriate for this time of day, at least), with any servants you’re friends with being allowed to join in. If you’re not from Romania, Bela will go out of her way to have the cooks learn recipes from whatever country you grew up in. Might throw in a few non-breakfast items too. Mmmm, thinking about my family’s krumkake recipe now, so good<3
What happens next depends a lot on your specific personality. If you enjoy parties and social gatherings, there will be festivities in one of the castle’s larger rooms, again with any of your friends being allowed to join (even visitors from the village, should you wish to invite them). A large cake will be served, likely baked by none other than Ava Caldwell (please excuse my shameless OC mention).
If you’re more introverted, or shy, Bela will keep the gathering very small, likely just her family and you. There will be music, a few gifts from the family, similar but smaller treats. Less energetic, more casual and comfy family time.
Come lunch time, the two of you will have some private time again. Depending on weather/season, she’ll either take you for a picnic in the garden, or a quiet meal in the observatory. Think candles, lots of strategically placed flowers, warm blankets… all that cheesy stuff. Afterwards, she’ll let you take the reins for a bit. Essentially, you’ll spend some quality time doing your favorite hobbies together. Feel free to info dump/rant all you want, Bela will stare at you with love in her eyes regardless of the subject.
Once you’ve had your fun together, it’ll be time for dinner, which will once more be with her family. Everyone will be on their best behavior (under threat of blackmail, except for Alcina, who’s just, you know, a good mother who wants her daughter to be happy). Again the cooks will go all out for the meal, making whatever dishes weren’t appropriate for breakfast. There will probably be leftovers- unless, of course, you decide to let the other servants enjoy what you cannot finish.
Finally, before bed, Bela will let you open the gifts from her. The two of you will be in either her room or her private study, away from everyone else. She’ll have prepared 3 gifts for you. One will relate to your personal interests (a hobby, a movie/book series you love, etc), one will be something the two of you can do together, and the last will be something you can wear/keep on you to remind you of her (not that you could ever forget, really).
I’ll leave the detail of what happens that night to your imagination, dear reader, so as to not assume anything about *ahem* attractions, gender, or any possible… deviances (kinks, if that wasn’t clear). Regardless, there is cuddling<3
Cassandra + Birthday
Wakes you up, first thing in the morning, with kisses. Just crawls into bed with you and smothers you in somewhat sleepy affection. Do you know how hard it was for her to get up at this hour? Relatively! Which is why you’re not allowed to get up get up, at least not for a while. Mandatory girlfriend snuggles. No escape. If the two of you are, ya know, of the persuasion to do certain things… without clothing… then yeah, that’s probably also happening. Please don’t judge me, I’m tired (and asexual) and am trying to avoid this being unnecessarily ns/fw.
Doesn’t really want to share you at all, even on your birthday, but will let you mingle with friends/have a nice group breakfast if that’s what you want. Just expect to be sitting in her lap for as long as she can get you to, alright? Might tone it down if her family is around (okay, well, if her mother is around). Will pretend to judge people for whatever gifts they get you unless you specifically ask her to stop. Repeatedly whispers things in your ears to distract you, ranging from the audaciously inappropriate to “my gift is going to be so much better than that” to very sweet “I love you”s.
Lets you plan as much or as little as you want for your special day, though won’t hesitate to suggest things if you struggle to come up with stuff/can’t decide. Again, she’d prefer to spend as much of the day with you as possible, and would prefer your gatherings be very small. Like, maybe just the two of you. Going on a hike to your favorite spot, or painting together (even if you don’t know what you’re doing, because she’ll get nice and close to help ;) ), or just curling up with her somewhere cozy.
Whatever you end up doing for the day, she’ll probably have a servant pack you guys some lunches, so you don’t have to interrupt whatever you’re doing.
Dinner will be… a surprise. Planning is not her area of expertise, so Cassandra will enlist the help of her older sister, resulting in a romantic meal that, well, at least has hints of your girlfriend’s personality in it. Yes, she picked out the color of the napkins. Yes, the flowers she had asked for turned out to be poisonous, so yes they did have to swap them out last minute. Oops, you darn humans and your ‘mortal weaknesses’. Honestly, the display is very touching. She asked for help to do something nice for you<3
At the end of the night, she’ll take you to her art studio, where there’s a big painting that’s been covered up for a few days or so. She’ll pull the sheet off, oddly shy, and you’ll see it’s a lovely portrait of the two of you… except you’ll be wearing a necklace that you’ve never seen before. Which Cassandra will quickly pull out of her pocket, to give you as the second part of your gift :D
Cue a night of cuddling (and possibly other activities… such as sleeping).
Daniela + Birthday
Might as well bodyslam you first thing in the morning, honestly. She’s very excited, and loves you very much, and just wants to have some nice morning cuddling (and kissing). Solution? Make sure that she spends the previous night in the same bed as you. Seriously, it’ll save you a fair amount of pain.
Has the least planned of the three, despite having the most ideas, mostly because she struggles to actually organize things. Expect to spend however long you want in bed, just relaxing, probably still with lots of kisses and cheesy dialogue about how much she loves you. When you get up, however, the two of you will be surprised to see that Daniela’s family decided to help her get shit together.
There will be a nice breakfast, with your friends present, and Bela might even delay her own meal just to play some music for you. Afterwards, the family will give you their gifts. They won’t make you open them yet if you decide to save it for later, though, so no worries.
Then, you and Daniela will be encouraged to go out and have some fun. Which means a nice almost-picnic in the gardens, with less of a meal, more of some sweets/snackies. Cue more cuddling, and dorky poetry reading. The poetry will always start out serious… but by the end you’ll both be trying to find the lamest, cheesiest poems you can get, reading them to each other in increasingly ridiculous voices. Somehow you’ll end up reciting dirty limericks. Eventually you realize that Daniela isn’t even going through her books to find them, and is actually making them up as she goes. You’re not sure you want to know how she gained this skill.
Eventually you’ll head back inside, for lunch. At this point, there will be more music, some optional dancing, with a surprising amount of servants being allowed to just enjoy themselves. If parties aren’t your thing, Daniela will be more than willing to sneak you off somewhere more… private. For various reasons, you know. Doesn’t have to be anything more than cuddling. But this is Daniela we’re talking about, so…
The evening will mostly be up to you, with Daniela wanting to do whatever you want to do, even if it’s not something she’d normally enjoy. She just wants you to be happy<3
Dinner will be romantic, like with Cassandra, if admittedly far more chaotic. Still, it’s very lovely, and she’ll probably get adorably flustered as she tries to make things perfect for you. Expect her to get you multiple smaller gifts, and repeatedly mention that she wasn’t sure what to get you, so she kinda just… got everything. It might be best to reassure her that you mostly care about spending time with her. But, you know, also tell her you enjoy the gifts because she really did panic about them.
#bela dimitrescu x reader#cassandra x reader#cassandra dimitrescu x reader#daniela dimitrescu x reader#bela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu
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Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / Part 18 Here! / Part 19 Here!/ Part 20 Here! His POV Part 1! Here / His POV Part 2 Here! / Part 21 Here! < This is Part 22!>
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Commission Info For Love Letters Here!
A/N: This has some NSFW themes, so if you’re under 18 don’t interact.
Also the Tag list is closed, I think this is about how many people can add for this. An alternative is to follow and turn on post notifications.
Um.. I guess this will be going on hiatus for a few weeks. I’m just busy at work, and I’m kind of out of ideas, also low engagement in the last few parts has made me feel a little discouraged.
That being said- if you order a letter with a twilight character, I’ll probably end up giving a hint for some things that will happen in the series. So if you are on the fence about getting a letter- or you just really can’t stand to wait, there’s always that option haha.
Anyway hope you like it ~
* “(Y/N).... what are you doing?”
* Muffled noise escapes you as you dig yourself deeper , drowning in his scent
* “(Y/N)”
* Your name leaves in a whisper and a smile curls onto his mouth
* “I mean how can you even see the television from that angle” he mumbles
* You sigh, your breath fanning across the lilac shirt he wore, you’re head firmly nestled in his back
* You’re in his room, lying beside him on his bed, essentially spooning him. The movie flickers on in front of you, you’re only half way through the first Harry Potter movie right now
* Honestly you’ve wanted to snuggle into Edward’s back for a while now, ever since you did it right before you both kissed for the first time
* It just feels so warm and safe here
* “I can hear it just fine” you mumble back. You feel the muscles in his back ripple as he shifts, your arm slinging over his chest.
* His hand covers your own. His hands so big it almost entirely envelops your own. And you can’t help but imagine what that hand would feel like in other places
* Tangled in your hair, trailing up and down your sides, under your shirt, dipping beneath the waist band of your shorts-
* Nope nope nope
* Gotta keep it PG 13
* He wants to go slow after all. Or at least you think he does. But well, you thought he might want to be with Bella
* And that was wrong
* Ugh, you want to pull out your own hair. how easy would it be if he could just read your mind and let you know-
* No it doesn’t work like that
* You sigh
* You have to put the work in if you want to make this work
* You have to communicate
* You stir besides him, wiggling you hand out of his and tapping the hard muscle of his abs
* Ugh, of course he’s chiseled like a statue
* Wait you’re a vampire, you tap your own stomach. It feels like a hard slab
* Well damn
* “Hm?”
* “We need to talk”
* “About what?” He asks absentmindedly, eyes never straying from the television.
* He must really like Harry Potter.
* “About sex.”
* He shoots right up. The remote falling to the ground with a clatter
* “Ah sorry, let me get that” he mumbles, climbing out of the bed to pick up the remote and put the movie on pause
* He clears his throat, sitting on the edge of the bed, a whole 5 feet away from you
* “So what did you want to talk about, again?”
* He seems so awkward, maybe you were right, maybe he does want to go slow
* But then what was with that “I’m not waiting for marriage” crap?”
* “I want to be physically intimate with you” you say bluntly
* Why did you say it like that? Like you’re some kind of scientist or something?
* *internal cringe*
* Not that he seems to care
* Edward’s grinning
* “Are you seducing me right now?”
* You’re not sure why but that smile annoys you
* You scoff
* “I’m trying to find out where you’re at, sexually speaking”
* He looks at the ground for several long seconds before finally meeting your eyes
* “So I um-“
* Okay you’re finally getting somewhere
* “I guess I have this kink where I like being called-“
* “No Edward not that!”
* You’re a little annoyed,
* But also a little turned on
* You’ll have to put a pin in that,
* oh boy, Edward with a kink.
* It’s probably something super vanilla like a praise kink
* or something cheesy like a daddy kink
* Like what are you, sixteen-
* Well, he technically is but-
* You’re getting off track
* “Do you-“
* how do you say this?
* “Do you want to have sex with me?”
* And it would sound like your propositioning him if you hadn’t emphasized the ‘want’
* You know he’s on the asexuality spectrum, maybe he just doesn’t feel like that for you
* You know he loves you a lot
* And wether or not he wants to have sex won’t change the way you feel about him,
* But knowing will help you manage your expectations
* “Why...why would you think that I don’t?”
* He looks almost hurt as he says it
* “We’ve been dating for two months and you haven’t made a move”
* Not after he said that thing about ‘Not waiting for Marriage’™
* You feel his hand cover your own, he’s still a heathy distance away from you
* But even just the touch of his hand on yours sends a shiver down your spine
* “How could you ever think I don’t-“ he cuts himself off
* His free hand moves to cradle your face, brushing hair away in that way he’s always done
* You sigh leaning into his touch
* “You’re so beautiful...so lovely.. of course I want to be closer to you in whatever way I can” his words leave breathlessly, and you can see he wants you just as bad as you want him
* “Then why-“
* “You live in my house,” he stresses. “You’re surrounded by my family, who haven’t been very subtle with how pleased they would be for you to join the family. We are literally never away from each other”
* “Do you want me to move back to Denali?” You joke and he laughs, amber eyes warm as he looks into yours.
* “I just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable... or suffocated.” He squeezes your hand
* “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to, for me.. or anyone else.”
* So he’s been trying to be considerate of you
* And of the living situation
* Isn’t that just so like him?
* You feel a small smile stretch across your lips, your hand threading into his hair
* “I don’t ever feel uncomfortable, not around you.”
* And it’s true, you trust him completely.
* You know he’ll never hurt you, never
* You foreheads are pressed together, and it’s only a small shift to catch his lips in your own
* Your hand escapes from his and trails to his face, your hands tipping his head back to get a better angle
* He feels so good like this
* He would feel so good underneath you, begging you to go just a little further
* “Now I’m propositioning you” you feel a small breathless chuckle escape him
* “There’s ... another reason I haven’t brought it up” he mumbles
* You hold your breath- he doesn’t have that bubbling desire does he?
* You were right, he-
* “If we did it in the house everyone would know”
* Huh?
* Noticing your confused expression he clarifies
* “Everyone would hear it happen, and everyone would know”
* Oh
* So all this times you’ve kissed-
* And that time in the car -
* Everyone knew?
* You groan covering your face in your hands, how will you ever be able to face Carlisle again?
* “Emmett would have bought us a cookie cake-“
* You raise an eyebrow and he falters
* “He would have bought me a cookie cake...it would say ‘bye bye virginity’ in pink icing” he whispers
* And you laugh
* “That’s so wasteful”
* No doubt Edward would be too embarrassed to let their humans friends eat it - which you don’t blame him for
* “Alright I’ll try to keep my dirty fantasies to a minimum” you laugh when he tugs you into his lap
* “Oh what kind of fantasies?” There’s that teasing boyish grin again
* “Please enlighten me”
* Well, it’s only right to tease him a little after all those hours you’ve spent mulling over what ‘I’m not waiting for marriage’ could mean
* “Well they all start off with a kiss, a good kiss, the kind that makes you feel like you’re just going to melt-“
* You rest your head against his shoulder, whispering into his ear
* “And then when it’s over, one of your hands is under my shirt,”
* you gently trace up his back and he shivers
* “and both of mine are under yours”
* “And then?” His voice is low, but he doesn’t dare to look at you
* You really shouldn’t tease him this much...
* but it’s so fun
* “We kiss again, my hands tracing over every inch of you, and when we stop I unbutton your shirt, trailing kisses down your neck”
* You trail a cold finger down the side of his neck
* He lets out a low sound, akin to a whine
* “And then I’ll suck here” your finger presses lightly into the hollow of his neck before repeating the process on his collarbone “and here”
* “You look so pretty with your neck marked up with hickeys, like poppy’s blooming in snow”
* You can tell he likes it by the shiver and whine
* So he likes that sensual shit huh
* You wonder what else he likes
* “And you look so pretty Edward, breathless, with that hungry needy look in your eyes just for me”
* Your hand trails down to his chest, and he trembles as your hand moves across his stomach. Resting on his lower abdomen
* His breath hitches, teeth digging into hi plush pink lip. He’s so needy, your finger trails in absentminded circles, and you swear he whimpers
* Aw so cute
* “And that’s about it” you say bluntly patting his stomach twice before moving to get off of him
* His eyes shoot open, a frown arching onto his mouth
* You hold back a laugh
* before you can fully get off of his lap he tugs you back to him
* “I see what you’re doing” he tried to pretend to be stern but you a smile twitching at the end of his lips
* “I don’t know what you mean. That’s just where the fantasy ends” you say as innocently as possible which only makes him grin
* “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been teasing you too much”
* “Hmm have you been?” You mock confusion and he laughs again, kissing the spot where your neck and shoulder meet
* “I’m sorry I got your hopes up”
* You scoff
* “My hopes weren’t up-“ Edward tilts your head towards him and you avert your eyes
* Okay they were a little high
* He pulls you into another kiss, soft and gentle
* “I promise I’ll make all your fantasies come true soon.”
* He already has, how many dreams that you never thought you would be able to have has he made come true?
* God, you adore this boy
* “But until then you’re going to have to leave”
* Scratch that
* “W-what?!”
* What did you do something to turn him off in the last .05 seconds?
* “It’s nothing personal-“
* You’re taking this very personally
* “I just need some time alone, and maybe a cold shower”
* Oh
* O H
* “R-right, well I’ll leave you to that” you mumble, clearing your throat as you move away from him, only briefly stopping on your way out
* “I’m going to take a few of these okay?” You say grabbing the other two Harry Potter movies
* You don’t wait for him to respond, leaving the room and heading to your own
* You run into Emmett who sends you a mischievous grin
* “Hey (Y/N), what were you-“
* “Nothing you would need to a buy a cookie cake for” you say, sliding into your room
* You look down at the DVD’s
* Why did you take these? You don’t even have a TV in your room
* Meanwhile Emmett’s still in the hallway
* “How did they know I was going to get him a cookie cake?”
* .
* ..
* ...
* You’re not sure where you are at first
* It’s foggy burst of green and brown
* And then you see him
* It’s Edward
* You breathe a sigh of relief moving towards him, as long as he’s here you’re okay
* “I’m sorry-“ you stop in your tracks
* there’s someone else there, clinging to his side
* “You were right- I do love her” He says and you’re confused
* The most faded and its Bella her wide brown eyes narrowed into a glare
* “Did you think you could just steal my future away from me?” She spats at you like her words are venom
* No- of course you never meant to take her place
* But you always hoped to- didn’t you?
* The intrusive voice causes a shiver to erupt down your spine
* You walk back, feet tangling into one another
* No that’s not right, Edward loves you- this isn’t right
* That’s when you bump into something hard- immovable
* You turn to see someone else entirely
* They’re wearing a black and red cloak
* Someone from the Volturi
* You gulp hard.
* So they’ve come for you have they
* The figure moves to remove the hood of their cloak, and you feel a gasp escape you.
* It’s you
* Only your face seems...sharper somehow, even more beautiful. But in an unnatural way, devoid of humanity
* Your eyes are as red as rubies
* You fall back, your foot getting caught in a tree root
* The Volturi-you sighs, crouching down so their impassive eyes can meet yours
* “You’ve really got to get over that whole timeline” their voice is different too, an air of disappointment ringing in every word. They sound bored
* You can’t manage to string together a single thought, let alone any words
* “Well don’t look so scared. I’m here to help you know” but their smile is cruel
* “Unless you can snap out of that lovesick dream of yours and finish what you started, this is the future that’s waiting for you”
* “That’s not true”
* Carlisle saved you, Eleazer took you in, Edward gave you a new future.
* You’re never going back to the Volturi
* But the you clad in the black and red robe’s smile only grows wider
* “It’s not true for now, but how many more years do you think you can handle until you get bored?”
* “Another 20? Let’s say 50 for good measure- then what?”
* You feel like a cold finger runs down your spine, your hair standing on end
* “I think you know exactly what” the cloaked you says, their eyes are serious now as they look at you
* “You need to finish what you started-“
* Finish what? What are they talking about? What did you start?
* Noticing your confusion they sigh
* “You need to stop focusing so much on what happened in the story, and start thinking about what happened after the story”
* After the story?
* Like after Edward and Bella had Their baby?
* “Now wake up”
* The words echo in your head until you fly upright, breathing hard as you take in the space around you
* For a second you’re not sure where you are
* This is your room, at the Cullen’s house in Forks
* You’re fine
* You’re safe
* You try to regulate your breathing, attempting to calm your mind with it
* It was just a nightmare. Not that you ever remember falling asleep to begin with
* “I didn’t think I could fall asleep anymore” you whisper
* You pretend to sleep, because it feels good. But you’ve never lost yourself like that before
* It felt so real
* “Finish what I started? And then after the story-“ You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end
* There was something- something you had tried a long, long time ago-
* Back when you still lived in Denali
* An idea you had come across once- after Edward told you how painful it was for him to turn
* But how would you even go about proving something like that?
* And what’s what might have happened after the book series got to do with any of this?
* You sigh, your head in your arms. It was just a dream wasn’t it? A nightmare from your insecurities?
* If you just whispered his name, Edward would be beside you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, erasing all your worries
* “ Unless you can snap out of that lovesick dream of yours and finish what you started, this is the future that’s waiting for you”
* You gulp
* You don’t need Edward to coddle you through every little nightmare, you decide
* Turning in your bed, closing you eyes and hoping to dream a more pleasant dream this time But you don’t dream at all, tossing and turning until light filters in through the blinds
Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796 @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10 @alluring-venus @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse @im-tired-not-sleepy @emmettcullenisahimbo @my-super-musical-life @smolvampiregirl @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @mihikaahujaaa @werewolflover3252 @teenagezombiekryptonite @shynz @reclusive-chicken-nugget @monkeyluver4546 @wonhomarshmallow @bwbatta @bubblyabs @thatwaspossesion @helzerat @parascape @ xxxmuxxx @katrodriguez99 @leilanixx
#twilight#twilight imagines#twilight headcanon#twilight saga#twilight reader insert#edward cullen x reader#edward cullen imagine#Edward Cullen x you#midnight sun#superhero--imagines
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Kitten Licks
Pairing: post-timeskip!Kenma x fem!Reader
Rating: 18+, minors dni
A/N: There’s just something irresistible about Kenma Kozume (23) University Student, Stock Trader, Pro-gamer, Youtuber, Bouncing Ball Corp. CEO. Do I think he’s ooc in this? At first, but then I thought about it and I think if Kenma’s heavily involved in a romantic relationship, after enough time, he’d really open up and be a bit more vocal.
T/W: exhibitionism, face fucking, masturbation, reader is a big brat
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒
You knew that Kenma Kozume was a busy man. University student, pro-gamer, youtuber, and CEO all at just 23 years old? It was inevitable that there would be stretches of time that your boyfriend wouldn’t be able to spend a lot of time with you, coming home exhausted and going straight to bed or finishing up a stream into the early morning, hours after you had called it a night.
You knew all this, yet here you were, under Kenma’s desk where he sat streaming, rolling your clit between your fingers with one hand and pawing at his clothed cock with the other, desperate for an ounce of attention. You were being greedy, and you knew it. You could wait for Kenma to finish. This was an important stream for him. Tonight, he was playing with high profile American streamers. There were plenty of things to keep yourself occupied in the meantime. You could take a nap. You could catch up on your own studies. You could watch that romcom you’ve been dying to see that Kenma didn’t seem too keen on. You could even just take care of your itch yourself. But no. You wanted your boyfriend, and you wanted him now.
Earlier that evening, you had passed behind Kenma, laundry basket in hand, wearing nothing but his old high school jersey and your favorite lacy red panties, leaning down slightly on the man, peeking at what he was playing. As you leaned, a few socks had fallen and slipped under Kenma’s chair.
“Oh! I’ll get that,” you said.
“No don’t bother. I’ll get it when I’m done. We’re about to start,” Kenma began to protest, but you were already on your knees, crawling under his desk to reach the befallen sock. Kenma rolled his chair back to give you space.
“I just about got it!” you said before you were unceremoniously shoved farther under the desk by Kenma rolling his chair back into place.
“Sorry, babe,” he said. “We’re starting now. This game’s important.” You knew that. Kenma had been talking about playing with the high-profile American streamers for a solid week now. The only other things that would get Kenma that excited is a visit from his childhood friend, Kuroo, or your pussy.
“Kenma, what the fuck?” you whined, smirk going unnoticed by Kenma as he began his usual streaming introduction in addition to introducing his new American friends.
Bingo, right where you wanted to be. It was almost too easy.
So there you sat, waiting a good bit into Kenma’s stream so that he would be too focused on the game at hand to notice you playing with yourself under his desk as he streamed.
You rubbed a finger against your slit, testing how wet you had gotten yourself, before pinching your clit between your thumb and forefinger, rolling it in your slick. You lifted a hand to run up Kenma’s thigh, adding a slight pressure when you reached the junction between his legs. You moaned at the feeling of Kenma’s cock in your hand, albeit still covered in his clothes. Too much clothes in your opinion.
“Hold on guys,” you heard Kenma voice above. Kenma muted as you squeezed the outline of his cock, palm rolling over the rising tent in his pants.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Kenma said, glaring down at you, voice flat and devoid of emotion, yet you knew him well enough to pick up the hints of frustration and arousal.
“Maybe I wanted to play, too?” you pouted, hand leaving your panties to join its twin in unzipping Kenma.
“You’re not going to stop until you get your way, are you, kitten?” A dangerous glint shone in Kenma’s eyes, sending shivers down your spine as you pulled down his pants and boxers in one motion, freeing his half hard cock.
“Nope,” you said, flashing your boyfriend a cheesy smile as you proceeded to gently push and pull his foreskin, a gasp leaving Kenma at the friction against his sensitive tip as you picked up your speed.
“Don’t think for one second that you’re slick. You think I’m stupid enough to fall for this shit? You really are my dumb little kitten,” Kenma threatened as you gave small licks and kisses to his tip before pushing him into your hot mouth. “Do what you want, but don’t think for one second you’re going to get away with this scot free.” The drop in his voice sent shivers up your spine as you wrapped your lips around his tip.
“Keep quiet, or else,” he growled a final warning.
You nodded from around the tip of his cock. Satisfied with that, he unmuted his headset. “Hey guys! I’m back, sorry about that. My cat got under the desk.”
“Aw! A cat!” you heard the Americans say. “How cute!”
Kenma chuckled darkly. “Yea, she’s still just a kitten.” You shivered at the use of your favorite pet name so publicly. “Doesn't do too well without me quite yet.” A hint at your incessant neediness.
“I bet she’s adorable,” the Americans continued, oblivious.
“She is.” You could hear the smirk in Kenma’s voice. “Too cute for her own good sometimes.” You smiled at the statement, popping Kenma’s cock out of your mouth in favor of kitten licks, tongue running over the veins that decorated him.
Once Kenma was fully erect, you took him into your mouth, rounding your lips over your teeth and lolling your tongue out to rub against his underside. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth, you took in your hands, twisting slightly with your spit as lube.
You couldn’t ignore your own need. Your clit throbbed insistently at your abandonment, panties soaked from your previous ministrations on yourself and your current ministrations on Kenma. A hand left Kenma’s cock in favor of sneaking into your panties, rolling your hips against the hand to hit your sensitive clit. You hummed at the feeling, vibrations causing Kenma to twitch in your mouth. You slipped two fingers into your hot, dripping pussy, curling them to find the spot that would have you cumming hard in no time.
Once you found it, you ground your hips into your hand, palm hitting your clit and sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You repeated the motion just a few times before you were close, so very close.
You moved the hand wrapped around Kenma’s length down to give attention to his balls, rolling and squeezing gently. You cupped his balls as you pushed yourself farther onto his cock, taking him deep into your throat and swallowing around him to fight your gag reflex as you desperately humped your clit against your hand.
Kenma’s own hand shot down to press your head against him, fisting your hair tightly. The pressure of his hand holding you down completely on him and constricting you of air sent your body over the edge, cumming hard against your fingers. You choked and moaned around his cock, squeezing his balls a little too roughly and causing a gasp to escape Kenma. A gasp that went directly into the headset.
“Yo, what’s that?” he heard from the other end.
“Sorry, just my cat just jumped on me. Surprised me, that’s all,” he quickly covered up. You giggled around him as you pulled up, the vibrations from your throat sending shivers up Kenma’s spine. Your own need out of the way gave you a clear mind to focus completely on him.
“The kitten?” you heard the Americans coo. “Man, I wanna see!”
You could hear the smirk in Kenma’s otherwise soft monotone as he unfurled his fingers from your hair. “Sorry guys, maybe next time. When she’s a bit more trained to sit still.”
You pulled away from Kenma’s cock as soon as he resumed his gaming. Chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
You heard the clicking of Kenma’s keyboard as you zeroed your attention in on his cock, angry hard and glistening with a mix of your saliva and the precum leaking from his slit. You ran the hand that was wet from your own juices up and down his length. You bobbed your head up and down what you could fit of him in your mouth.
Finally you heard the long awaited words: “Good game! Same time next week?” After a brief confirmation from the Americans and a few more clicks of the keyboard, Kenma pushed away from you, leaving your mouth with a small pop. You sat on your knees, crouched under the desk and waiting further instruction from Kenma. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt and squirmed under his gaze.
After what felt like eternity, Kenma finally said, “What were you thinking? Pulling a stunt like that?”
You opened your mouth to speak.
“I don’t want whatever pitiful excuse you’re going to come up with.”
This was the side of Kenma you loved, the brat tamer side that only came out when you had crossed a line needed to be put back in place.
“Come here, kitten,” or else going unspoken yet clearly understood by you. The familiar heat flaring up deep in your core. You crawled towards Kenma, eyes locked onto his own golden cat eyes. Once you reached him, you placed your hands on his knees, sitting back on your legs.
“You want it?” Kenma teased, taking his cock in his hand and stroking lazily up and down. You nodded. Kenma tapped his cock against your lips. “Use your words.”
“I want your cock,” you said flatly.
“Yea? And what do you want to do with it?”
“Want to suck it.”
“Okay kitten. Then suck it.”
You hesitantly gave small licks to his cock.
“Where did all your confidence go?”
In your true bratty nature, you pushed yourself down on his cock, taking him fully into your mouth and earning a groan from Kenma. You quickly bobbed up and down on his cock, drool leaking out.
When you pulled off his cock for air, Kenma pushed down on your head and thrust against you, balls hitting your bruised lips. You understood instantly, opening your mouth and sucking them in with a gaudy slurp. You wrapped a hand around his cock, slick with your spit, pulling his foreskin over his tip.
“Good girl. Baby, that feels so good.” Kenma purred as he tugged your hair to pull you off his balls. “I’m close, baby.” He shoved you back down on his cock, causing you to gag.
Once you got your rhythm back, Kenma stood. His fingers tangled in your hair and kept you pressed up against him, pulling you up with him, cock still down your throat, until you were on your knees, spine straight and hands clawing at his thighs for support.
“Relax, baby. I’m gonna fuck that tight throat, okay? Remember to breathe through your nose.” Kenma waited for confirmation from you. You nodded, earning a soft whispered “good girl” from the man above you.
The grip on your hair tightened almost painfully as Kenma fucked your throat like a fleshlight. The noises escaping you were downright pornographic. Drool dripped down your chin, creating a lewd, wet smacks as Kenma’s balls hit your chin which each thrust.
“Gonna cum. Swallow it all.” You didn’t need to be told twice.
Kenma pulled back just long enough for you to suck in a deep breath before he slammed you back down on his cock, nose hitting his pubic bone. Kenma bent over you, arms wrapping around your head and holding you down against him. You gulped hungrily as he shot hot loads down your throat, settling heavy in your stomach.
Finally Kenma pulled out with a groan. A small strand of your spit connected you to his cock still. Kenma held your face in his hands, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. The room was silent apart from the two of you struggling to catch your breath. Kenma was the first to break the silence.
“You’re just too cute for your own good, kitten.”
#kenma haikyuu#kenma kozume#kenma x reader#kenma smut#haikyuu!!#this is shameless#head empty#only going down on pro gamer Kenma while he streams
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An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|
> pairing: min yoongi x reader
> genre: FallenAngel!AU
> words: 23k
> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.
> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.
“ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.
You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.
‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”
a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem.
“(…) Here at least
We shall be free, the almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition though in hell:
Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”
The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.
“Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.
“Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.
“You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.
“John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.
“Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”
“I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.
You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.
“Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.
“Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”
“Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”
“It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.
“Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.
“Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.
“You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.
After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.
“Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”
“Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.
“I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.
“Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”
You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”
“Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.
The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.
||\\
[Fear of the Water, by SYML]
You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.
Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.
You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.
You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.
Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.
Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.
Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.
||\\
“So, how did it go?”
He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.
“C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”
The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.
“Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”
“Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.
The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.
“We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.
“Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.
“I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.
“I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.
“If you say so.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.
To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.
On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.
Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.
He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.
“Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.
“You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.
“Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.
“You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.
“Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”
“As in bi-curious?”
“Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.
When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.
||\\
It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.
“Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.
She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV. “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”
“Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”
“Okay, then. Be careful!”
“Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.
It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.
The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.
Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.
“Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.
“Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.
“C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”
You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.
“Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”
You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.
“Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.
“Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.
“Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.
Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.
Okay, think.
Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.
“Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.
He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.
“He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.
“None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”
When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.
“Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.
“You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”
Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.
“You better watch out,” he spits.
“Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”
He’s lying. You can tell.
“Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.
“Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”
He’s angry.
You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.
“Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”
He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.
“Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”
As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.
Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.
Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.
The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.
“Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.
“Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”
“Well, there’s not much to know.”
You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.
“What is this, an interrogation?”
You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.
“I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.
“Tell you what?”
“About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”
“Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”
He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.
Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.
“Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.
“Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.
“It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”
He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.
“Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”
“I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.
“Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”
“Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”
“Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“
She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.
||\\
“(…) Farewell happy fields
Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail
Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell
Receive thy new possessor: one who brings
A mind not to be changed by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”
You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.
At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.
“Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.
“You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.
“It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.
“I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.
“Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”
“Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”
“Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”
“I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.
“Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.
Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.
As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.
You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-
“Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”
“What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”
“Do you mind?”
“Uh… No?”
“Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.
“Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.
“What?” Your face contorted into confusion.
“Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.
“So we’re friends now?”
“Pretty much.”
“Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.
“You’re bossy today.”
You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.
“Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.
“I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.
All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”
“Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.
“I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.
“Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.
“I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”
“Will I, now?”
“Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”
“You haven’t convinced me yet.”
“Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”
“I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.
“I parked on a different spot,” he responded.
“Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”
“Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.
“I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.
||\\
You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.
“I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.
“I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.
“Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”
“I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”
“How can you even say that?” he barked.
“Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.
He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“
“Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.
“Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.
“It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”
“I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.
||\\
A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it.
And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close.
Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together. You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.
“Hello?”
“Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.
“How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.
“I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.
“You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.
“That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”
You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”
“It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.
“You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.
“It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”
“Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”
He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”
“Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.
“Where are you?”
“Home,” you answered without much thought.
“I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”
“Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”
“You’re not.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-
Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.
As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.
Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.
“I’m going out for a bit.”
She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.
“Last time you said that…”
“I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”
“Is your phone charged, young lady?”
“Yep, it is.”
“Then call me if anything happens, alright?”
“Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.
He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.
“Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.
“Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.
“You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.
“Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.
“Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.
“I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.
Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.
“I just… I’ve never done this.”
“What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.
I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.
||\\
You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.
But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.
“Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.
“Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.
“I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.
He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.
“I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”
“So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.
“I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.
“Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”
He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.
“Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant.
“Yes?”
“Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly.
That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.
“For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”
By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.
“That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.
“What about you?”
“Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”
“But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”
“That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.
Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.
You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.
He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.
Well, shit.
He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.
You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.
You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.
“You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.
You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.
“Who is it?”
“It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”
“Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?
“Sarah? What is it?”
“Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”
Your blood ran cold.
“What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.
“We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“
“Sarah,” you grunted.
“Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“
“I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.
You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.
“Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”
“Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”
||\\
He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.
He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.
He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.
So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.
||\\
“What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”
Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.
You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.
“We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.
“Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth
“What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”
“Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”
“Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.
“Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”
“Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.
“Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.
As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.
“Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.
“Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”
“He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”
He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“
Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.
A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.
“Yoongi, what-“
“Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.
No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.
At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.
“Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.
Brother?
“How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.
“Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”
“Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”
“People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.
“I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.
“Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”
“I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.
“Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”
“Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”
“It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”
“What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.
Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“
“Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”
“Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.
Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”
“Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”
Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.
There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.
“How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.
He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.
“I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.
“Why not?”
“I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”
“What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“
“Y/N.”
“Yes?!”
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.
“Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.
This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes,” you answered straight away.
“Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”
You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.
“Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.
||\\
“Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Oh then at last relent: is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”
It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…
No. He promised.
You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.
Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.
Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.
You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.
“Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.
“When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”
“I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”
“Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.
He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.
“I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”
“What, now? Y/N-“
“I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly
Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”
“No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”
He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”
“I won’t.”
As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.
Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.
You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.
You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.
“Hello, Mr. Newton.”
“Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.
“Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”
He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.
“Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”
Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.
“Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”
As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.
“Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.
“No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.
When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.
Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.
||\\
The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.
During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.
“Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.
“In the kitchen, honey!”
The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.
“Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”
“Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.
“It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”
“You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”
You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.
“It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.
Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.
Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.
Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.
“Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.
You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…
“Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.
“So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.
“Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.
“I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.
“Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.
“I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.
“Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.
“Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”
“What’s changed?”
“You.”
Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.
“H-How come?”
He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”
You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”
“Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”
“You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.
“That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”
“Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”
“Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.
“Then I don’t understand.”
“I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?
“It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.
“I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.
You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.
“Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”
Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”
“I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”
“If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”
He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.
“Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.
“Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“
“Okay,” he deadpanned.
“Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”
“Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.
“Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.
That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.
Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.
||\\
“Get in.”
“No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.
“Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.
“No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.
He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.
“You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”
“You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.
“You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.
You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.
“I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”
You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.
Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.
Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.
During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.
You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.
“Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.
“She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.
As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.
“Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”
All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.
“Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.
“We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.
“Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.
“Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.
“Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”
“I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”
“Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.
“I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.
“Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.
“I won’t,” he snorted.
Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.
You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.
“Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.
“Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”
“Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”
“Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”
“Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”
“Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”
“What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?
“Yes. I liked the dragon.”
||\\
His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.
“Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.
“Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”
He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.
“Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.
“That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”
His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.
“Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.
“Heathcliff? I don’t.”
He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”
“Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”
He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.
“Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.
You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.
“I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”
A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.
“Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.
“Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”
“My place.”
Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.
“Whatever you want, grandpa.”
“Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.
The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.
“Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.
Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.
He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.
“Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”
He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”
“Bedroom,” you commanded.
“Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.
You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.
“Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”
Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.
“Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.
His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.
“When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.
“A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”
“Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.
“Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.
“How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.
“Father taught me,” he shrugged.
It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.
“Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”
“Home,” he stated tersely.
“I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”
“We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.
“Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“
“You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.
“Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”
“I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”
“Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”
“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”
“If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”
His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.
“I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”
“Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.
He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”
“Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.
“Me, too.”
“I know. That’s why.”
He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.
“I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”
He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”
You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.
“May I know the others?”
“No,” you glared.
“Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”
“Not even then.”
“How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.
“Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“
The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.
“Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.
Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.
Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.
Alright. Great.
As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.
Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.
“It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”
You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.
“I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.
“Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.
“It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”
Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.
“Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”
You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.
“Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”
You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.
“It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.
“This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“
“Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.
It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.
Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.
“How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.
His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.
“Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.
As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.
“Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”
“Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?
“Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.
“Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”
“B-But the protocol-“
“Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”
He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”
“That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.
“If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.
“Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”
“Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.
Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.
“I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.
“W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.
“Are you afraid?”
Yes.
Fuck, yes.
Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.
“Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.
He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.
“You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.
“Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”
“An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”
“You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”
Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”
“My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”
“Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.
“It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”
“So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.
“Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”
“So you rebelled?”
“No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Not for us, it’s not.”
“Okay. Then what happened?”
“It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”
“I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”
“Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”
“Because of the devil, right?”
“Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.
Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.
When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.
Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”
You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.
“I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”
“I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”
“But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”
“Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”
“I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”
“I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.
All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.
“Is your time up?”
His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”
“Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”
“No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”
“Then why?”
“Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”
You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.
“You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.
“War,” he completed.
||\\
“While they adore me on the throne of hell,
With diadem and sceptre high advanced
The lower still I fall, only supreme
In misery; such joy ambition finds.
But say I could repent and could obtain
By act of grace my former state; how soon
Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay
What feigned submission swore: ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void
For never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:
Which would lead me to a worse relapse
And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear
Short intermission bought with double smart.”
There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.
“I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.
“I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”
“Don’t I have a say in it?”
“Ultimately… no.”
“Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”
“I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”
“Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”
“Okay.”
The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.
Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?
You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.
Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.
[Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]
Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.
Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.
“Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.
“Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”
“It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”
By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.
“I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”
His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.
“You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.
“Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”
That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.
“Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.
“Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”
Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.
“It’s fine, Tae.”
“It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.
“Taehyung…” you warned.
“Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”
While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?
When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.
“Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”
By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.
“I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.
“Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”
“Can we go home, please?”
The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.
“Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.
You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.
#bts fics#bts fanfic#BTS suga#yoongi x reader#min yoongi#jeon jungkook#kim taehyung#kim namjoon#bts angst#bts smut#fallen angel#fallen angel au#bts reader#bts you#bts fluff#bangtanarmynet#ficswithluv#park jimin#jung hoseok#kim seokjin#two shot
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Under My Roof
Under My Roof
A/N : this was supposed to come out for Valentine's day. And then life happend and I'm posting it a month later 😅 this is pure filth, it's only smut, PwP. This all started with a message exchange with the incredibly funny @badassbuchanan 😂 after sending her the second gif 😂
Word count : 8K
Warnings : dégradation and knife play so discrete you won't see it, exhibitionnisme...etc. +18 !!! Maybe a bit of angst I'm not even sure, and a cheesy poorly written ending. Enjoy !💘
Plot : your are Bucky's maid.
***
You were lost in your thoughts, while walking back to Bucky Barnes's home. Your eyes wondering over the couples that walked past you.
Valentine's day. Again. You hated this day. This painful reminder of your loneliness. The reminder that you weren't with the man of your dreams. Well yes, indeed you were painfully close to the man of your dreams.
You change his sheets. Prepare his meals. Go grocery shopping for him. Clean his house. Take care of him when he was sick.
But you weren't with him. You were just the maid.
You were the one he sent to go buy flowers and a box of chocolate. A bouquet and sweets he would give to another woman tonight. While you would fall asleep, alone, in a house that was not yours. After completing tasks that were of no interest to you.
Of course you were more than well paid for your services, but ...you had no free time. You worked six days a week and on your only free day you were too exhausted to go out, so you stayed in your room all day sleeping or reading, which didn't allow you to build a single serious relationship in three years of this job. And ... if you were being totally honest...also the fact that you had the biggest crush on your boss.
And every Valentine's Day you'd remember that you.had.nothing. No boyfriend. No home for yourself. Every Valentine's Day you remember that you didn't build anything. You spend your life ordering the life of a man who does not see you. Around you your friends have homes of their own, husbands, children, a future. And you ...
Arggg! Getting into the house, you angrily put down the bouquet of flowers and the box of chocolate that Bucky asked you to buy for his evening date on the kitchen table. It was already about 5pm, normally you'd start on dinner but he told you not to cook tonight, and if you wanted you could have something delivered for yourself. Fuck him. Fuck Bucky Barnes.
You locked yourself in your room. And soon after, you hear him leave the house.
You try to read, but you can't concentrate. You go on tiktok and instagram, Tumblr and finally you end up on pornhub. Your eyes move from video to video and when you find something that appeals to you, your hand quickly slides straight inside your panties, Without giving the rest of your body any attention.
Your fingers find your clitoris, and begin to massage slowly, but as soon as the pleasure begin to rise, a pair of blue eyes appear in your memory, and your movements suddenly stop. No ! You don't want to think about him now!
You shake your head, breathe out, and try to refocus on the video. But as soon as your hand starts moving, it's his face that pops into your head, his voice, his smile, his body ... NO! It is pathetic. You can not let yourself think about your boss, who by the way must absolutely not be thinking about you at the moment, while masturbating on Valentine's Day. It's ... really pathetic. Suddenly angry at yourself, at him, and at the work, you close your porn and go to playstore.
You download the first three dating apps you find and sign up for the three. No way your spending Valentine's Day eating fast food on the sofa while thinking of your boss. Masturcraying is not for you, not today, not ever.
You choose your prettiest photo and select it as a profile picture. You select: "Partners near you". And just like that, the profiles appear on your screen, and you just have to pick and choose.
Few hours and some weirdos later, you are chatting with a nice guy, attractive enough, funny and chatty.
From Theo to Y/N « you want to go out ?»
From Y/N to Theo «yes ! Let me ask my boss first»
And then it occurred to you. He didn't even ask you if you had plans for tonight. He didn't even think about giving you your night.
Annoyed, you quickly texted
From Y/N to Mr.Barnes « Sir, i have plans, can i have my night?» you wait and wait...but the answer comes only half an hour later.
From Mr.Barnes to Y/N «No, you should have asked yesterday. I'm expecting a package around eight, please don't forget to pick it up»
From Y/N to Mr.Barnes «Please Sir, i never asked you for a day off. I'm feeling a little bit down. I really think going out would help, i could ask for mr's Happkins to reception the package, I'll get it first thing back»
From Mr.Barnes to Y/N «No. You'll have you little date in your free day. I'm busy i don't have time to text»
Fuck.him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck. Him. Fuck him.
From Y/N to Mr Barnes «FUCK YOU.»
Delete.
From Y/N to Theo « My boss isn't here, wanna join?»
4 hours later.
You are drunk. Drunk on the best alcohol you ever had. Drunk on an alcohol you'd never be able to afford. Where did you get it from ? Bucky's cabinet.
He won't be here until tomorrow, you have all the time.
You turn your head to the cute guy next to you, curly blond hair, slim and tall and a shiny smile. Perfect.
You lean in to kiss him. You don't even remember he's name. You share the taste of the delicious alcohol on your tongues, you laugh between kisses, joke between messy body grabbing, and play cat and mouse around the table. Your tops are off, your lips swollen. «Eat me out» you state, no second thought. «That's bold» he says, opening wide eyes but smiling. «I'm sick of being good...» «It's okey, i like bold»
You sit down on the couch, pull your skirt up, take off your panties, and lay back.
The boy doesn't wait to get on his knees between your legs, and he gets right to work. His tongue teasing your entrance, and his lips kissing your clit playfully.
Fuck Bucky. This is a nice boy. Fuck,Why are you thinking about Bucky ? And why is your heart tightening ? Fuck. Tonight you deserve better. This doesn't feel like enough. Not enough to fuck your boss out of your mind «Let's go to one of the rooms» you say purposefully.
He looks at you, eyes sparkly «Whatever the lady asks for» the blond smiles at you, getting up, and ...not helping you get up. It's alright, you're not looking for romance any way.
You chose the nicest room. The biggest one, after Bucky's. As soon as you get in, the boys hand are on your waist, pulling you back against him. His lips on your neck making you giggle. He moves them to you breast, your only wearing your bra. «Can you help me take it off ? I have trouble with this things, bras hate me !» you laugh and help him take off the underwear as he unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the ground.
You feel yourself getting excited, this is so new to you ! Having a stranger in your big scary boss's house, and letting him fuck you. That's... liberating! And if you thought about feeling guilty, the way he replied to your message came to your mind and you'd just think “fuck him”
You jump on the bed, and invite your partner to join you, he does and as soon as he is next to you he attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, and his hand go directly to your pussy, teasing your entrance once again, you slid your hand towards his boxers, feeling his cock getting harder between your fingers as you pump up and down his lengh. You kiss slowly while teasing one another, moaning in each other's mouth.
But then, the blue eyes again. The metalic blue eyes of you boss appear in you mind. The beautiful mesmerizing blue eyes, that beautiful face, those lips, the smirk, the jaw the body, you wonder if his cock is thicker then ...OH DEAR GOD. THAT IS ENOUGH.
«Hey.» you awkwardly start. «Yeah ?»
«Wanna...get inside ?» (NDA : yes kids, sexe with a stranger is more awkward then sexy)
«Sure ! That's not an offer you say no to !» He stumble in the covers getting up, reach for his jeans and grabs a condom in the back pocket. He opens them and it takes few seconds of fumbling and shaky hands to get the condom in place, while you're lying there looking at him.
You both laugh awkwardly, as he gets on top of you, looks for the entrance few seconds, and start sliding inside. It feels nice. See ! you don't need fucking rude and sexy Mr.Barnes.
«Harder. Go harder.» he start thrusting faster, and you close your eyes. Concentrating on the feeling and the friction. but soon enough, the blue eyes try to make a new appearance, and you open back your eyes, to escape his.
He has nice hair. Nice blond locks. He looks cute, a slow building pleasure starts raising in your belly. Imagine his beared on your inner thighs, and his tongue battling your into submission, and ...his cock stretching your walls, and you orgasm is getting closer and closer, you push your hand over your mouth to keep your moans down, he doesn't go deep but he goes fast enough for you to feel ready to cum, on top of that you've been watching a lot of porn and dirty tumblr to get you there rapidly. and just as you pussy clenchs, he stops everything. Fuck Fuck Fuck, you try to buck your hips but nothing will save you, You just had a ruined orgasm !
«what, i, i !!! » « think someone is coming in.» he whispers.
You stop breathing as you hear a key turning in the lock.
The front door.
Fuck.
Only two people have this key, you ...and Barnes. Fuck. He is back.
Fuck Fuck Fuck. «My boss is back, fuck, hide !»
You put on your shirt no bra, your skirt no panties, you close the door of the room where you leave the boy, and run out at full speed. A second after you are in the living room, collecting his shirt on the couch, trying to hide the mess, you just have the time to push the empty alcohol bottle under the couch before Mr.Barnes appears.
«What are you doing ?» He says, suspicious, looking at you messy appearance. «Nothing, just cleaning.»
«at 11 pm ?» he raises a suspicious eyebrow. «I...icouldn't sleep.»
Your underwear. Shit. It's right on the edge of the couch. “Please don't notice, please don't notice, please don't notice” «well, since you are awake, could you draw me a bath ? I'm exhausted.» «Yes, sir.»
You go out as quick as possible, and passing by the end of the couch, you try to discreetly grab the underwear, you roll it in your fist, and run up the stairs. Once in the bathroom, you try to rearrange your hair, and start preparing the bath in a hurry, terrified at the thought that your boss could go to the friend's room you used (which he never does) and find your little...date.
While the water start to warm up, you hear the bathroom door open, and close in your back. And Mr Barnes just sits there, in your back, watching you, watching your every movement. Your fist is in front of you, tightly clenched on the underwear. His look is sharp, you feel it burning you skin, you are so aware of your own appearance. You are usually so put together. It must be the fist time in three years of working for him that he sees you in such a state.
What could he possibly be thinking. He is looking at you in such a way that your hands shake.
Maybe ...if he asks questions...you could tell him you were masturbating when he came in ? Sure it would be a shame, but ... It would be believable, and he would be to embarassed to look any further. You shake you head, trying to steady your hands, while adding salts in the water but then ... «You can go, I'll do that myself» he comes up right behind you, really really close.
He doesn't need to repeat himself, you furtively slip under his shoulder before running away
When you hear the bathroom door close again, you run towards the guest room and try to open the door quietly. But...it's locked. You try and try again and it's locked. «Hey it's me» you whisper. «Can I go now ?» Whispers the boy, from the other side. «Yeah, Open the door, why did you lock it ?»
«I didn't, i heard it get locked, i thought it was you.»
You brain stops working. Why would Barnes ever lock a guest room door ?
Deep inside you know. There is no other explanation. Your heart stops beating. But you head is desperately looking for any reason he would do that. There is none. There is only one : he knows. He know and you just lost your job. You feel tears gather in your eyes. God why did you have to be so stupid !? Sure, now is the time to regret. Fuck.
«I'll come back to open, can you just ...give me some time ?»
«What ? Are you fucking kidding me ?!»
You don't answer, and try opening the drawer where you know your boss puts a double of keys, but it's locked. You go to your room, think about gathering your personal effects, but then...your hands are shaking, and a small part of you still think "maybe he doesn't know, maybe there is an explanation"
You go back to the living room and start walking back and forth like a trapped animal. It lasts about twenty minutes. Until you hear it. You hear you name. From the bath room.
A commanding voice. Telling you to come here.
You hesitate a second.
But you have no choice.
You slowly start climbing the stairs.
Every step leading you to the bathroom is heavier then the one before.
Your heart is trapped in your throat.
You put your hand on the door lock. And try to catch you breathe. But suddenly the door opens and you are dragged inside by a firm hand around your wrist, before bumping into a hard chest. «Hey, there...» He whispers, in a dangerously calm voice.
You freeze.
He is naked, wrapped in only a tiny towel around his waist, holding you firmly against him.
You can feel his wet skin through your clothes. You don't now what to do, or what to say, but he doesn't seem to think the same. «Well behaved sluts answer when they are talked to.» He waits for you to speak up, but as you say nothing he continues «You are more eloquent with a dick in your pussy, aren't you ?» « no i...»
You try to say something, but you don't know what, you try to push him off but he is to strong. «No what? You though i wouldn't notice ? I knew the second i got in. You dumb little whore, you can see the window of the friend room from the outside. And your underwear on the couch ? Saw that to.» «I'm sorry, I was...»
«What ? What are you possibly going to say that could justify your behavior ?» his voice is dry, and he's body pushes itself further against you, forcing you to the wall. «I'm so sorry sir, don't fire me please. I don't know where my mind was, i..» «Fire you ? My god. That would be going easy on you. I know where your mind was, babygirl. In your horny little cunt.»
You whimper. Look down, only to see his muscular thighs, regretting, you close your eyes praying for all of this to be a bad dream.
«But I'm going to take care of that. You want to be fucked this bad ? Fine.»
You tilt your head up at him, surprised. Only to meet a black gaze.
« you are .. you are going to» « Fuck you ? Yes. Until you little pussy is sore, I'm going to fuck you more than what you can take, bully this little slut pussy, you understand ? Or do you prefer to get fired ?» «o...no.» «No what ? If you agree say "fuck me please sir"» «Please...» You stutter.
«That's not what I fucking asked!» He barks as his hand tightly grips you jaw, making you look at him. «Say it, loud and clear.» «Please, ...fuck me sir.»
«Ohh look at you, so well behaved. Your nipples are hard to..is that the water or the greediness, little slut ?» suddenly his hand leaves your jaw and grab at your neck, while his other hand cruely twist and pull on your nipple through your shirt, making you yelp, he let go of you hurt nipple, and his fingers grab something besides you on the edge of the bathtub. «See that in my hand? I'm going to push the blade of my razor on your delicate throat, now, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself by moving to much, right ? You better not fucking move. The things I'm going to do to you. The things I've wanted to do to you, Fuck» he grunts, «Take off your skirt»
You are forced to keep your chin high, because of the threatening blade, looking at him directly in the eyes, yours, teary, and his, dark with desire and anger. You push your skirt down, only to remember you are not wearing any underwear. You blush harder (even redder that what you already are) and you see his lips rise into a devilish smile.
«Is your pussy wet ? Did he finish fucking you ?» You don't answer.
«If you decide to act like that, I'm going to check by myself» he sighed. «Open you legs.»
While one of his hand keeps the blade against your skin, the fear of moving cutting your air, the other one reach down, and harshly forces your tights open, quickly moving up to your wet follds.
And, with no warnings, a slaps lands on your sensitive pussy, making you cry out.
Another harsh slap falls right on your clit and you try grabbing at his wrists and closing your thighs, but the blade pushed harder against your throat, and the hand that administrated the slaps push on your belly, forcing you to stay still. «Oh now see, you know how to use your voice. Did i say you could move? Stay the fuck still, whore.»
«Sir, it...it hurts.» «Oh really?»He says in a mocking voice, «good, it should hurt, is your little pussy sore from getting fucked under my roof ?»
Another slap lands, making a new cry escape your mouth. But you know better then to move, the blade is slowly moving up and down your skin, flattering it. The cold metal awaken every nerve of your body, and you feel... terribly aroused. You never felt more alive.
«It's nothing compared to when I'm done with you. I'm going to fuck the sanity out of you, little girl.»
You didn't plan on doing that, it's totally involuntary, maybe it's the vision of him, towering over you, only in his towel, hair pushed pack, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with hunger, his skin dumb, little drops of water rolling down his muscle, maybe it's the rush of adrenaline, maybe it's the mixed sensations from the blade, maybe ...maybe it's the months of fantasizing about him, of having this huge crush on the man, but you moan «Please, sir» as an answer.
He seems a little surprised, but soon a smirk ornate his lips and his eyes have a light of amusement and excitement.
«You want that ? You want me to fuck you ? How cute. That's not even a punishment for a greedy slut. Now...»
You're throat is set free, and you hear the blade hit the floor, as both his hands land on your waist, and his mouth join your neck, leaving met kisses and gentle bites, from your collar bone to your ear, « I bet you fantasized about that. About me fucking you, i mean, i knew you had a crush on me, but i thought of you as an innocent sweet little girl. Turns out...»
He kisses along your jaw, and when you think he is finally going to kiss your lips, he pull away.
«open you mouth.»
He scoffs at the speed you obey.
«Tongue out.»
You hesitantly pull out you tongue.
Your eyes widen as he spit in you mouth. And just as you are thinking about what you should do, spit it out ? Swallow ? Just ...keep it ? He makes the decision easier. He pinches your tongue between his thumb and index finger and cruely pull on it.
«Look at you, so desperate. Say "i belong to you"»
You try to close your mouth, but a slap lands on you cheek.
«No, no. Say it like that.»
The worst part is not you desperately trying to say the words with your tongue trapped between his fingers, it's not the obvious amusement on his face, not the humiliation he is putting you through, it's ...the fact that your pussy is getting wetter by the second, and you feel the blood flowing down to your clit. It aches, you want him to fuck you.
«Good girl. Now swallow.» He orders.
And you do, but this time you don't look away, your eyes firmly locked to his.
«I'm so fucking hard. You make me so fucking hard.» He grunts, pushing his hips on yours. Thighs on thighs, chest on chest, his dick on your hip bone.
If anything, he is, indeed thicker, and longer.
A little moan escapes your throat, as you move your hips with his, grinding against his cock, still hidden under the towel. Before you can think, your hand is reaching down, looking to feel him. He doesn't try to stop you, letting your fingers grip him, Making the towel fall on the ground. You feel him pulsing in your hand. He says and does nothing, fixating his eyes attentively on you. You start moving your hand up and down his shaft. You are fascinated, you explore every sensation, the one of your fingers wrapped around his veiny cock, you grip tighter, and wipe the precum leaking from his deep pink tip with your thumb. When you finally look up to see his reaction, his head is thrown back, his adam's apple bobbing under the thin skin of this exposed throat, you follow the edges of the his square jaw, the tensed large shoulders. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is unsteady.
And ...the fact that you do that to him, the fact that this is all you, makes your head spin.
You lower your gaze again, traveling over his chest, eye-kissing the perfectlytanned skin and the v of his hips, and his cock between your fingers. You admire how your hand is barely closing around it, and the precum still escaping the tip, how you can feel the blood pulsing in the prominent veins, how you ...are craving to close your lips around it. That's...the most beautiful cock you've ever seen, attached to the most beautiful man you've ever seen, and ...you want it all.
But just as you are thinking of dropping to your knees, his voice raises again. «You had your fun. don't fucking think you are in control.»
You look back up, and his hands tighten there grip at the small of your back, as he looks down at you. «Now, doll, I'll fuck your throat another time. Turn around.»
And, without waiting for you to oblige, he spins you around, and suddenly you find yourself facing the full body mirror.
His chin resting on the top of your head, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection, your eyes travel your appearance, flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, hard nipples, chest raising and falling rapidly, his forearm firmly keeping you against him. «You are so ready for me to fuck you, sir's little slut.»
His hand slides under your shirt, your breast heavy in his palm, his calloused fingers pulling at your nipple, his mouth kissing right behind your ear, whispering.
«I'm saying that, but, you know, I've wanted to fuck you since the day you put a foot in this house.» Suprised, Your your raise your own reflection, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
«Don't look at me like that. The maid fantasy isn't a myth. Seeing you every day in this uniform, wanting nothing more than to fuck you on every flat space of this fucking house.»
You can bearly breath and you close your eyes, looking away.
Immediately you feel the sting of your hair being harshly pulled back, yanking your head up. «Eyes on me, on you, on us, you don't get to look away, whore.»
You shyly open your eyes, looking back at the reflection, but, not satisfied yet, he whispers, «say "yes sir"»
To ashamed and mesmerized by the picture before you, you don't immediately oblige, and that costs you a hard spank to your ass. «Say "yes sir"!» He repeats with a stern voice, that you know he won't tolerate you making him ask another time.
Another harsh slap lands on your ass and you yelp, «YES SIR.»
«Good girl, You know what, from now on, we are playing a little game, everytime I say something, ask a question, you reply with "yes sir", i don't fucking care if you like what I'm saying, i own you, and you will agree to whatever i say, do you understood?» «Yes sir.»
«such a good little slut, aren't you ?»
«yes sir.»
«You're not that dumb after all. Arms up, i want to see all if you.»
You immediately obey, and with that, you are completely naked, all available for him. «How beautiful, such a beautiful woman, with the soul of a whore, isn't that a pity ? I'm going to ruin it. Give me my pants.» «What ?» «What do you mean what ? You don't need to understand, i gave you a fucking order. I don't think you understand quite yet what is happening to you, but don't worry by the end of the night, you'll be a good girl again. The pants, slut»
You quickly reach to the floor and give him his pants, and it's with horrified eyes that you see him take the belt of the hooks. «Don't look at me like that, I'm not planning on spanking you with it tonight. But, you seem to forget who owns you, so..»
He reaches around your neck a put the belt around it, start to hook it «Until i buy you a proper leash, i'm going to put that around your throat, don't you think it's an amazing idea, doll ?» «Yes sir.»
«Good. Do you want a leash around that pretty neck ?» «Yes sir.»
«Now, i could think you are lying just to obey my orders, but you see, i think your telling the truth. Your eyes are filled with lust, and you pussy ...»
His fingers reached down, his thumb between your lips, before pushing two fingers all the way inside. «Your pussy is overflowing with your juices. It's twitching and sucking my fingers in.»
With no warning, 4 consicutive harsh slaps land on your ass cheek, making your cry outs and arch your back. «Did i give you permission to grind on my fingers ? No i don't think so, doll. You don't get preparation before my cock, you've already had that.»
You can't put your head around what is he talking about and you don't have time to think before feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance, «Are you ready ?» «yes sir.» «good girl.»
You expected him to slam himself inside, but...he, oh so slowly sink inside you, making you feel how every fucking inch of his cock is stretching you.
His hand reaches to your face and two is his fingers push themselves past your lips, pushing your tongue down, and making sure you are looking in the mirror. «You look so good like that.»
And with every inch of his cock that stretches your walls, the belt hugs your neck tighter, until he bottoms out, and you can bearly breath.
«Your so fucking tight doll, I'm surprised for such a worthless..» «STOP IT.» You scream
he immediately stills, and totally let go of the belt, letting your breathe deeply. You feel a sob in you're throat, and cover your mouth with your hand and close your eyes to keep the tears in.
«Oh my god, doll, did't hurt you ? I'm sorry, so sorry, come here, do you need to sit, do you»
«Stop calling me a fucking whore ! I've been in love with you for three years, i couldn't go see anywhere else because I think about you all the time, and tried to get over it, but i don't even have enough free time to meet someone ! I'm always working for you, and when I'm not, I'm thinking about you ! Stop stop stop stop...»
You keep repeating the words until you feel his arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you to his chest and hugging you. You're not crying, you are shaking, shaking of rage, of misery of lonliness, all the pent-up feelings that you had are short-circuiting your muscles. The hug is calming, at least he didn't just leave. But ...you are scared of the moment you stop shaking, and he stops hugging you, and tells you to get away, find a new job and someone who would love you back «i ...i'm jealous.» He Whispers
You're shocked to move, did you mishear ?
«i didn't want you to have a date tonight...i didn't want you to meet someone. And ...i ...i think like you, no i...i know i like you, it's...»
And from here on, it's the void, you don't catch any another word. He likes you ?
And finally you cry.
Tears slowly roll down your cheeks, and in the silence you can only concentrate on your ebulliting heat and Bucky's deep breaths. His heart to, is pounding under your ear, and you notice that you are holding into him as strong as you can, and he is doing the same. And from there, your have one feeling, hunger. And you have to satiate it. You've been starving for to long. You can talk later, and, if after you talk it doesn't work out, it will be okey, you want at least this moment. « I want you to keep fucking me.» «What ? No we don't have to..»
«No, i want to. And if you want to too, i want to keep going.» you say with confidence «But doll...»
«Show me what you feel, sir.»
He keeps silent for a moment, and then says slowly, like he is trying to keep control over himself.
«If you are sure, pretty girl. Let me just take this off» his hand travel to your neck to unbuckle the belt, but you stop him again.
«I ... Kind..of like it...can we ...?»
«Ohh doll, you want to keep the belt ? Such a naughty girl. You like the idea of me owning you ?» «Yes sir.»
«Good girl. My good girl...»
You feel his big hand move to your face, cup your cheeks, but...so gently. It's tender, nothing to do with his manners from the begging, and he softly move his face close to yours, looking at you directly in the eyes, the man that have been fucking you senseless, is now, shy and hesitating to kiss you, his eyes are showing just how sorry he feels and how he doesn't know how to act.
«Sir, i want a kiss.» «Yeah ? My pretty girl wants a kiss from me ?» «yes sir.»
His thumb keeps caressing your face while he slowly push his soft plump lips to yours, kissing staying still for a moment, enjoying the calming feeling, it feels like the word is exploding and...you couldn't care less. It feels like ...the chaos have a perfect order. His tongue saunter on your bottom lips, asking patiently for you to open your mouth, you like the kiss as it is and you want to savour the slowness of it for a moment more, knowing that when your tongues meet, there will be now slowness, no patience, just frenzy and hunger. And honestly you also want to test him a bit. So you don't open, but, at your satisfaction, he just waits, he keep tasting your lips, patiently, not forcing anything, not demanding anything. After you feel fed up with feeling him kissing you so purly, you part you lips, and finally give his tongue the access it's been begging for.
Like before big moment of life, there is an instant of calm. The time of a shared breath, where his tongue caress yours, and it's everything your heart needed. The world around you explode and it's perfect. The chaos is exactly where it should be, the chaos is perfectly ordered.
Then the desire takes it's rights again, the frenzy replaces the serenity. The hunger the fullness. The desire the satisfaction. He suddenly pull at the belt, and invade your mouth, owning it, owning you, and this time you gave that to him. He gets drunk on you, the more he drinks the thirstiest he is. His hand travel down your body, drawing every curve and fall before reaching your core. Every nerve of your body is in the edge. and soon as his hand gaze over your pussy, you whimper.
«Did he make you cum, doll ?»
You blush so hard while confessing, «a...ruined orgasm sir...you...you came in just when...»
He can't keep his loud laugh for himself, and his chest trembled filled with his hilarity. Shy, you burry your face is his neck and he caresses your hair. «oh poor baby, you had a ruined orgasm because of me?» He doesn't seem sorry for one bit.
«I don't know if i can be gentle if i fuck you, if you want I can just go down on you and... »
«No, sir, i ...i...still want you to show me how you feel. I can take it all.» «I knew you were perfect for me, doll.»
Your back is slowly pushed against the cold mirror, your hips brought forward, he keeps a firm grip of the belt, keeping your eyes locked, as he slowly burry himself in you. «My sweet girl never told me she wanted me, i was so scared i...i would...you...i..» «Harder sir, i want to feel you, I'll understand.»
He closes his eyes for a second.
And the air is kicked out of you. He slammed into you so hard that it kind of picked you up from the ground, like he was trying to rearrange your guts with all his might. «Bucky !»
hearing you say his name for the fist time must have awaken something in him, because he just seemed to fall in love right then, kissing along your neck, where you blood is pulsing. «Yes that's it doll, say my name...i love hearing my name from you.»
You repeat his name louder and louder as he goes faster and faster and you get closer and closer to your climax. «I want you for myself, i want no one thinking they can own this tight little pussy like i do, do you want me to show everyone that i own this pussy, your pleasure, your body, your love?»
«Yes, yes Bucky i want everyone to know !!!» «You want to cum doll ? You want me to give back the orgasm i ruined for you ?» «YES, Bucky, Please !»
«Hold it. not yet. I took away your orgasm from you, i think it's only fair i decide when you have it.»
«No please !» You desperately beg as you feel him slide out of you leaving you empty and needy.
«chuut, doll, I'm going to let you cum, i know how much you need it, but, not here.» a dangerous spark reflect in his eyes. «what ...what do you mean.» you hesitantly ask, not sure if your are ready for the answer.
«I mean that I'm not done teaching you a lesson.»
He kisses softly on your temple, and, with that, opens the bathroom door, pulling you by the belt, you follow behind, and ... you realise you ...get overly horny from him pulling you by the belt around your throat, you think to yourself «I can't wait to have a leash and collar he can pull me by» you get ashamed from the lewd thoughts. But you love the taste of ownership it gives him on you, and of belonging it gives you. A relationship that you feel have been here for a long time, but expressed for the first time tonight. He looks behind him and winks at you «I know you love me pulling you with my belt on your throat, aren't you a lewd maid, doll» you blush, and hide a slight smile by looking down.
Thinking he was taking you to the bedroom, you dont ask questions, until you over pass the door, and he guides you to the stairs.
«Where are we going ?»
«See, doll, i’m not a man who shares. and i don’t want anyone thinking that they can touch you, in any way. espacially not under my own roof.»
And that’s when you understant. you completly forgot about him. The guy you brought home.
And when you realize, he is already pushing the key in the lock
«finally ! is your boss gone? I thought you..»
Blondie stops right there in his phrase.
Seeing the massive and naked figure of barnes enter the room. Go cocked to talk looks at the man with wife eyes. «What ? Did you think she forgot about you ? Yes she did. She absolutely did.» starts Barnes.
«Who are you ?!» says the kid in an irritated voice. «The owner of the house» cuts Bucky in a dry voice, «Now, do you can get my fist in your baby face, or ...» «No ! Bucky he did nothing !» you intervene without thinking, still hidden behind the door.
«Oh well see whose talking, hiding behind that door. If you want to defend him come in sweetheart.» «i ...i can't.» «yes you can. Baby it's either my fist in his face or you show him who you belong to» «but ...»
«You have three seconds»
You know you don't have any other choice then to enter the room, one arm around you breasts and your legs as close to eachother as you can. You look at the floor, not brave enough to face your "date" of the night.
«What the fuck...is he forcing you to do that ? I'll call the cops.» «They will have nothing to do here.» interrupts Bucky, «Am i forcing you to do that sweetheart ?»
You shake your head.
«speak up.»
«no, no you are not.» «See, she enjoys it, tell him, love» «i enjoy it»
«Yeah ? Come here,» He pulls on the belt pulling you closer to him, and then slipping behind you. «Look how wet she is. That's not for you. That's for me. That's how wet she got when i punished her for fucking you. For thinking that she could be somebody else. Do you wanna see how I take care of her ?»
You think blondie is going to run out of the house, but you hear Bucky's laugh, and a zipper being undone.
«He want to see sweetheart ! Let's give him a show, he came all the way here for you, we can't let him leave with nothing.» «Yes sir.» «Good girl , now bend over the chair.»
Trembling from the anticipation and excitement, you get closer to the chair in the middle of the room and fold your body in half, a yelp escapes your throat when a hard smack is landed on you left ass cheeks, followed by the commanding voice of your boss
«Lower, arches your back»
You do, and his big hand delicately caress the smack mark he just left and then caress you along spine from bottom to your neck, sending shivers in your body. «See, how beautiful she is ? Do you think you deserve such a beautiful woman ? And you idiot would have fucked her what...6 minutes before cuming and calling it a night ? Huh ? No. I'm going to show you how ..»
He slips inside you slowly again, making you gasp when you finally feel him stretching you open around his thick member «how you she deserves to be fucked»
The boy don't answer, to absorb by the vision of you, back arched, hips pushed back, eyes closed, nipples hard, and moth opened, gasping for air. Your whole self is subjugated by a number of feelings. One of them is a sharp feeling deep in your soul, of proudness and excitement, coming from getting fucked by Bucky for an audience.
You can feel every vain on his cock pulse, and the tip targeting your most sensitive spot. Then, slowly dragging himself out, only to roughly push in again. Grabbing you by the hips he maintains a stable rythme, of rough but long thrusts. Dragging himself slowly out of you and penetrating with everything he has. You burry your face in the crook of your arm, now screaming and audibly gasping, and the worst and best part is everytime you try to avoid the roughness of his thrusting by leaning forward, he'd grip your hips tighter, and pull you back on his cock.
«I'm going to cum, sir, sir, i'm ...oh. I'm close...» you desperately cry out, feeling a volcano ready to irrupt in your lungs.
Immediately after those word leave your mouth, his hand closes around your throat, pulling your back, your head to his shoulder, and his other hand fall along your body, to press two firm fingers on your clit
«Good girl, such a good girl, about to cum on her boss's cock, wait, hold it»
Feeling you weaken, and your moans turning to breathy cries he squeezes harder on your neck : « said hold it, doll, you don't want to see what I'd do to you if you don't .»
It takes everything your have for you not to immediately cum, but, and thank God he is not using he's fingers, he is just keeping them on your clit, while he kiss you ear : «look at him baby.»
It takes you a second to understand who is he talking about, but when you get it, you are to close to cumming to fight him, or be shy, you look at the blond boy, who is rapidly stocking his cock, looking at you with hunger.
«See, he's going to cum for your cum from seeings you get fucked.»
Your vision is now blurry, and you have a hard time breathing, with his tight hold on you neck. «who is fucking you ?» «You sir!»
«Yeaah, tell him you love when i fuck you, tell him that you are my fuckdoll.»...«Say it, or you don't get to cum»
«I'm his fuckdoll ! I'm sir's fuckdoll ! I love when he fucks me ! Please can I cum !? I can't hold it !»
You desperately scream out, your last sentence cut because bucky starts furiously moving his fingers on your clit, still not letting go of you neck, but giving you some space, just enough so you not to faint. You hear a loud groan from in front of you and you understand that your "date" just came, and he seems to have come pretty fucking hard. You are yourself ridding the edge, trying not to let go before Bucky's permission.
«He just came for you. You are so fucking beautiful princess. cum, cum on my cock doll, cum right Fucking now.»
«Oh thank you, thank you bucky, oh my ....»
Your whole body shakes and he keep fucking you through your orgasm, his hip movements now messy and practically violent indicate that he is close to cumming to. «Going to fill you up sweetheart. You... okey with....fuck... that ?» «yes yes please.» you reply with a broken voice.
«Good Fucking girl, my good fucking girl» He groans, before stilling deep inside you and shooting hot strings of cum in you tummy, growling and harshly biting at your shoulder.
You go limp in his arms and he hugs you tight. You stay like that for few seconds breathing heavily, while he slowly pulled out.
Suddenly you feel something that sends panic through your body.
«Bucky ! » «don't move sweetheart.»
He's hand once again find your pussy, and he pushes two fingers inside of you
«No, no, I'm serious please i can't go again...»
«I know doll, i know, don't worry»
His fingers slip out of your pussy, covered in his cum and your juices. He then makes you sit on the chair, where you abandon yourself. And ...walks toward the boy, who is just sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed.
Silently Bucky stands before him, blondie looks at him with big eyes, half afraid half mesmerized. And Bucky...pushes his two coated fingers on the boys lips.
It takes a second.
Then, like obeying to a higher force,
The boy open his lips, and your psycho hot boss pushes his finger deep down his throat, making him taste you two mixed, and gag on his fingers.
Your "date" doesn't say anything, silently taking and licking the fingers, while looking up at your boss.
Bucky finally decides it's enough, take his fingers out the boys mouth, «go home»
Then turn around to you
«Going to sleep with me tonight, right Princess»
«heuu...hmmm excuse me, when, could we do that again ?» shyly ask blondie.
«Never. If you repeat anything of what happened to anyone, If you try to approch her, if i see you around my house, i kill you, now. get out. » conclude bucky in a sharp voice.
Blondie zip up his pants as fast as he can, and runs out of the room with not another word, maybe a little glance at you and... bucky.
Seeing that this last have an arrogant smile, «and That's how you Fuck a woman you're in love with» he screams, before hearing the front door close.
#smut#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan#the winter solider x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#mcu x reader#mcu smut#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes imagine
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Hey guys! An anon requested some Yandere ABC'S with Sen, but I had to reupload cause the formatting was wrong!!! I hope it works this time, and I hope you find it anon! Let me know if you did!
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Hey Anon! Don't worry, requests are open permanently! So feel free to request as much as you want! I'm so glad you enjoy my writings, that makes me feel so happy! I hope you enjoy the ABC's prompt and I hope I did a good job! (*´ω｀*) Stay safe and take care of yourself, you're valid and loved!
( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? - Sen is a major giftgiver. So, expect him to really paint his love for you with lavish spending. Also, along with that, he's a hopeless romantic. So be sure to expect love letters and love notes to be littered around your apartment (whether or not he had permission to be where he placed them...that's up for debate). You met Senpai when you stumbled across his game, and were there to play it before you discovered a way to get him out. So, he was just as affectionate as your average visual novel character. Meaning, he's basically infinitely affectionate. He's very gentlemenly as well: kissing the top of your hand and brushing his lips against the tips of your fingers, helping you get ready each morning (he has to, considering you're literally restrained and rendered unable to do so), and other things.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? - I always imagined Sen to be more of a yandere "stereotype" considering his source (a cheesy Japanese romance game with pretty pastel colors and overly sweet and cheesy dialogue). So, Senpai would in that case be willing to make his murders messy. Their lives don't matter to Senpai, and he'll gladly paint a pretty picture of romance with their blood. He'd do anything to emphasize the fact that you belong to him and him alone. Not to those filthy, impure worms.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling when they're abducted? Would they mock them? - Senpai has a bit of an ego problem. So, if he feels it necessary, he'll gladly make you feel inferior to him. "Out of the hundreds of people in the school, you're the one that I long for so strongly. Shouldn't you be greatful for that? I'm sure there's people willing to eat themselves alive just to be in your place." Among other similar statements. Senpai isn't physically cruel unless giving out punishments for "bad behavior", so that's something to be greatful about I suppose. Even with the taunts and reprimands he speaks to you, he doesn't really mean them. Especially the ones about you being inferior in any regard. You're the definition of perfection in his eyes, to the extent he doesn't even really see himself being worthy of your love. But, nobody else is either. While he's not 100% worthy of an angel like you being by his side, he's more worthy than the people that surround the two of you.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will? - Just like Spirit, the only other things he'd do against your will is take away your rights to freedom, family, friends, along with some other similar things. He doesn't want to traumatize you, and as much as his actions contradict the idea that he's far from a monster, he's truly not. He just wants what's best for your love. Is that really something that's worthy of him being called a monster? Senpai doesn't think so, not one bit.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? - All of it. His heart is an open book. Senpai wants to woo you, he wants you to know how adored you truly are. He wants you to know how much space you take up in his heart, and he'll do anything to show that to you. Whether it be by taking you out to a nice dinner after you've been on your best behavior for a while, or by murdering past enemies or foes, Sen will do virtually anything
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back? - Completely and utterly heartbroken. How could you, (Y/N)? Here he is, your precious and beloved Senpai, just wanting to take care of you, and this is the thanks he get's? Senpai's little heart will be absolutely crushed, and he'll be sure
to let you know that, even while he's angerly punishing you. Being the main love interest is literally in his code, basically the A.I. equivalent to DNA. He's not used to not winning a person's heart the minute he expresses interest, especially the heart of someone he's putting all his effort into romantically seducing. Senpai will go ballistic after such a rejection, throwing the closest thing to a toddler's temper tantrum that you'll be able to see in an almost full grown adult. Screaming, stomping, crying tears of pure rage, Senpai will display all of it right for you to witness in absolute fear and horror.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape? - Is this a game to Senpai? Well, yeah. But only considering he's literally a game character himself. He still sees this as the silly dating mechanics from his own game. Even if this is real life, and even if this is completely against your will. He's not used to anything else, so he'll continue living his life and gaining your love the way he's been built to.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them? - You're not really in the position to cheat on him considering he's holding you in complete isolation, but if you were to cheat on him? Whoo boy. Sen would react in a similar way to Spirit would, only 100x worse. The psychotic laugh yanderes are so infamous for, the brutality, the murder, and then the confrontation of you. A cheater, a liar, a betrayer. You'll pay for what you've done to Senpai, you won't get away with thinking you could pull him around like a toy. He loves you, but now he sees no other option, you must die for what you've done to him. It won't be quick either. No, you're going to feel exactly what you made him feel the moment he found you cheating on him. It's only fair, after all. An eye for an eye. But don't worry, your body will be in good hands! Senpai will still take care of you, and he forgives you for what you've done! Now the two of you can be happy together once again! No more distractions this time!
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling? - The usual...marriage, honeymoon, perhaps some kids or pets (but only if you want them, of course!). Senpai is really up to any kind of future, as long as it's with you, his beloved
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope? - Senpai is EXTREMELY jealous. He's suspicious of basically everyone you come into contact with, and you're always having to deal with him wrapping his arms around you from behind and gently laying down some boundaries for whoever you're just trying to talk to. Expect a few statements like/similar to, "Hey, worm! They're mine!", considering Sen is always trying to show people just how much you belong to him
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling? - Like some kind of flawless prince, but you know damn well that it's just a facade. He tries very hard to keep his yan tendencies hidden from you, but his emotional instability makes him fail miserably at that. But, that doesn't take away from the fact that he's *usually* acting very cool and charismatic
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? - The usual things you'd see from a hopeless romantic...love letters, cards, poems, hand kisses, dinner dates, and everything else lovey dovey that people do to show a certain person how much they love them. Being a dating game character, Senpai is VERY good at courting anyone he seems romantically compatible
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? - His true colors are different from the way he tries to appear, but they come out so much that the people closest to him (specifically meaning you, and only you, as all of his other friends are just a.i. in the game that he once took residence in)) consider it apart of his actual personality
Naughty: How would they punish their darling? - Probably just by breaking things around the two of them as he screams at them
for whatever they did to anger him. Senpai is very childish, especially when he's rejected, but he's still able to be calmed. You just need to know exactly what to say and when to say it. Which...is shockingly hard, considering how unpredictable Senpai can be
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? - Just like Spirit, he won't really take away any. But, he'll take away all of it if he feels as if he has to
Patience: How patient are they with their darling? - Senpai's patience is quite literally in the lowest of negative numbers, so tread lightly, (Y/N). The slightest and smallest things can set Senpai into hour long rages
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on? - No. Not at all. Senpai would be absolutely devastated. He wouldn't be able to move on, you were his absolute everything. He can't imagine living a life without you, and he won't.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go? - Regret? No! Absolutely not! Why should Senpai feel any regret? For loving his darling angel? No. That's nothing but foolish. There is no room for regret or shame in Senpai's heart, only love for you
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)? - Rejection is against Senpai's code. You weren't supposed to not want him romantically. Because of this, Senpai quite literally doesn't know how to react. So, he acts...insane? Obsessed? Call it what you want, but make sure its definition doesn't neglect his love for you.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves? - Senpai would probably just get angrier. Why are you so upset?! Just love him, for fucks sake!! He just wants to take care of you, why won't you just let him? Stop being so difficult, let him take over, and things will be so much better for you!
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere? - Not really. Senpai is pretty much a walking stereotype, with a few small changes here and there.
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape? - His lovesickness, probably. Escaping Senpai would be hard to say the least, but not impossible. Just do the usual, try and act like a sufferer of Stockholm Syndrome and maybe you'll have a good chance at getting away from him
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling? - Without hesitation. If he needs to do it to get his point across, Sen would do it without hesitation. It's all for you, that fact alone removes any chance of hesitation or remorse
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over? - Senpai practically treats you like some overglorified love deity, the definition of a perfect partner. Perfect for him, at least. His entire heart is like an open book, but one that only you can read clearly. It's all for you, after all.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? - He's good up until he witnesses even the slightest sign of distance or rejection, then he snaps
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling? - Like hurting you, he'd do it without any hesitation. It means nothing to him, unlike you. You mean everything, and he'd do everything and anything for you. This is basically nothing to him. He loves you, after all! More than anything else in his world.
#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#senpai x reader#fnf senpai x reader#Senpai fnf#Senpai Friday Night Funkin#senpai#Fnf#Friday Night Funkin#yandere senpai#fnf imagines#fnf hcs#fnf x reader#fnf headcanon#Friday Night Funkin x reader#Friday Night Funkin HCs#Friday Night Funkin imagines#fanfic
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⍣ genre: fluff
⍣ warnings: heavy cheesiness
⍣ pairing: minho x reader
⍣ word count: 2.3k
⍣ collab: This is for the collab Summer Love - Stray Kids from lovie @bangchan-fairy
⍣ charlie’s notes: hope you guys love the cheesy cheese! this lovely banner was made by the precious @halliney!
⍣ summary: minho is scared of heights. maybe he is a chicken. but he meets another cute chicken that holds his hand.
Summer love is usually about sweet flings that end when school or work starts again. It starts in unexpected places with a smile and an ice cream, or with the adrenaline of meeting new places. Or at least that’s what happened to him.
Luckily, it didn’t go that way for both of you. It didn’t end!
Because it’s your third summer together and he can’t be happier. Even his feline babies love you so much, he has to bite his lips to not scream every single time Dori purrs approaching you and you coo at the kitten so cutely he just- Ugh. It’s no joke he is already searching for the perfect ring so he can propose.
There’s no way in hell he would find another soul like yours that blends so well with his, your sweet self is enough to calm him and make him feel at home, wherever he is. If you could open his heart and his brain, he would be so embarrassed because you would know he would do everything. Anything for you. You just need to say it and he is already thinking how to make it real.
But it’s ok, you won’t. Unless you are a secret cannibal and you kill him to eat his heart.
He chuckles out loud at the thought because he wouldn’t deny you his heart, you already have it anyway so he wouldn’t be upset if you eat it. You would just have to promise you won’t date another boy.
Minho just gets these thoughts as he wakes up from the nap he had holding your hand and here you are, like 10 centimeters away from him holding his hand even when you are not that clingy. The fact you are indeed a girl who isn’t into touch but you let him hug you and cuddle anytime makes him feel so good. So special. His free hand brushes your hair off your beautiful face, he can’t help but feel cheesy this moment so he caresses your cheek lovingly and kisses your forehead.
You stir a bit, but as the heavy sleeper you are, you put a leg on both of his -so he doesn’t escape and eat the last chips you mutter groggily- so he slaps your leg lightly and a small smile is on your face until you surrender again to sleep. Minho suddenly rolls his eyes. Are there people who know these intimate details about you besides him? Like you always put a leg on his body and you can’t open your eyes that easily, is there any chance there would be another guy after him who would know this? He pouts because it's frustrating to feel this way, so freaking protective. About your things, about your habits, about you. You.
Always you.
He feels the softest when you are like this, peacefully sleeping beside him in his oversized shirt and pajama pants that make you look like a homeless man. A homeless man that is going to steal his favorite hoodie, you would say. On these sunny and hot days, he has little bit of time to engulf in his feelings and think how lucky he got. Something he would never in a million years would voice out because Ew, the cringe. Especially when it’s summer. Because he gets small flashbacks about how he met you.
Hiking.
Hiking
Hiking!
What a better way to enjoy this beautiful summer than eating frozen fruits and walking through beautiful places? He originally planned to go to the mountain he enjoys the most, Jirisan but of course it would be too crowded.
So now he is here on a hiking tour. He didn't read the whole tour completely because he didn't want to miss this day and because Changbin wanted to come. And he doesn't like company when hiking or Changbin. Just kidding, he likes him but not when he whines which he would totally do in a long walk.
"Uh, sir? Are you not coming? I'm sorry but you are the last one to pass the bridge and the tour is being delayed right now." Minho bows apologetically and excuses himself saying that he would pay the extra fee to wait for the next group tour because he doesn't feel well. Of course the tour lady noticed him getting paler than a piece of paper when he was told to try sky-biking because it was included in the tour or he could pass that thin bridge that passes through both mountains. There was no other way to reach the beautiful sunset he was looking out for. But it was too high.
It looks dangerous and the vertigo hit right at his face as he is literally frozen right now, ugh.
It's ridiculous he is not going to see the sunset.
But he just can't move right now so he keeps a stern face to save himself the embarrassment and makes everyone laugh -group partners were getting really annoyed but well, Minho is funny- saying that he needed to pee because he was too excited. The female nods and makes a few calls, everyone starts taking pictures and distracting themselves as Minho looks at his phone just to notice his battery is going to die, it doesn't matter as he has a incredible high quality camera who is going to be very disappointed if he doesn't get those damn pictures of the sunset.
"Lee MinHo, right?" He nods and the female explains how this would work. So, this tour needs to keep going and as he is clearly pretty interested in hugging the tree that is right there to hold him, he should wait for the other group tour. It would cost him a lot because the next group tour has the option to stay the night to wait for the beautiful dawn. He agreed still because he wanted them pictures, it didn’t matter if he had to sneak in someone’s tent. “Your client’s code is 1441, please let it know to the next tour guide so he would include you in the other package.”
He buys an extra bottle of iced tea for everyone as he apologizes once more before he says goodbye and apologizes again to the rest of the group tour. Minho takes beautiful pictures as he walks near the damn bridge he doesn't want to cross but he needs to, he has around two hours to enjoy and to prepare himself.
You have to do it MinHo.
You have to.
"Are you sure you are going to hike that mountain? Like really sure?" He remembers Changbin questioning him and MinHo gasped. That asshat knew about the thin bridge.
Whatever, he is already here.
He is distracted with the beautiful little birds that let him take photos of them when he hears noise about a group coming. His moment to shine has come.
He just needs to look forward and not down because he would probably die. Ok, he 's ready. Really ready. Completely ready.
Oof.
"I'm not ready!" What- He is engulfed in his own thoughts of being terrified of heights, he didn't notice the girl that is making a funny scene about being nervous. MinHo approaches the group taking out his headphones and feels a bit better, he is not the only one having a mental breakdown because of the damn bridge. Everyone hypes her up to cross the bridge and cheers, she ties her hair up and gives a step forward and squeals.
"I'm sorry my friends! But I'll need a diaper."
"Uh, excuse me? Is this the second group of the tour to see the dawn?" He approaches the lady who had the little bright flag and after she nods kindly, he gives her his ticket saying his client code was 1441. "Oh yes! Come with us, please. This group usually goes slower so take your time to cross the bridge as you see, there's another client who is a bit nervous."
"I'm not nervous, I just wanted to take more pictures."He says and the lady nods and smiles, the tour guide seems close to the girl laughing anxiously that tries to cross the bridge because she whispers to her something about being a chicken. The girl, undeniable attractive just keeps laughing, voicing out she hopes to not die today. "Huh? Another person that is afraid to cross? Where?"
Damn. They are talking about him. The smile that was on his face dissipates and turns into a serious frown as he tries to appear concentrated to look at some flower. "Guys keep going, I will cross alone and safe! I promise!" MinHo hears the girl say to the group and hurried steps that come closer to him after that. "Hi? Are you the scaredy cat?"
"What?" He quickly turns around and scoffs, she is the scandalous one and she starts with this, pfft. "Are you talking about yourself? I don't remember being the one who squealed."
"Yeah right. Come on! Don't be shy, let's cross together because I'm scared too."
"I'm not scared!"
"Mr. 1441, please. We can be stubborn after crossing this bridge." You stick out your hand at him and he raises an eyebrow. "Are you going to give me a piggyback ride or what? Because Miss Chicken, I am not interested."
"What- Chicken? You are the chicken! Oh, is this a way to ask for my name? I'm Y/N."
"MinHo. But I wasn't asking."
"Me neither, MinHo." You laugh as he doesn't have an answer and you grab his hand. "Let's do this together, it's okay to scream and insult. I do that a lot so I don't mind."
" Wait, wait!" He says as he is dragged by Y/N, the girl who seems eager to cross but is as much as terrified as him or even more. "Why are you so eager if the lady said we can take it easily? You were screaming a second ago!"
"I know but the adrenaline is awesome and someone who understands the frightening feeling will make you feel secure, I promise two chickens make a good team."
"I'm not a chick-" His words die as he is at the start of the bridge, instinctively he holds your hand tightly. He takes a deep breath and looks at you, you smile at him. MinHo wants to run away but something in your secure hold of hand makes him believe.
"So you don't have friends to come with?"
"I do have friends! How can you come to that conclusion just by one look? You also look like a loner." He bickers and you immediately answer. "I am not a loner! The lady guide is my friend, she said this dawn is going to be probably the most beautiful of the year as the weather is awesome."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah! I hope you didn't bring too much stuff because it's hot up there, people don't even bring tents and prefer to talk with everyone and take naps looking at the stars and stuff like that, it's pretty safe too and the tour gives tents if you feel uncomfortable."
"Really?"
"Of course! Is this your first time hiking this mountain?" He nods and as the conversation dies for a moment he remembers he is actually on a freaking bridge that looked too thin to hold him safely so he looks down. He is stepping on plain land.
He crossed the bridge bickering with the woman he is still holding hands with.
Wow.
MinHo bickers a bit more to hold her hand a bit more as she gets distracted easily. Y/N. It is a pretty name.
He smiles.
"So are you going to ask me out or are you ready to let go of my hand?" There is a tiny possibility he would have choked on his idea tea at this statement.
"Wow, that was smooth and pretty direct." He lets go of her hand and she laughs. "I don't date chickens though."
"I don't date chickens either." He scoffed at her attitude, damn. Is there a divinity of summer he can thank for?
After a night of bickering and photos of the incredible dawn, you agreed to give him your number so he would send the pictures he took.
It would be the first of many hiking trips that would turn into summer dates.
You open your eyes finally and your hands search for your phone to see the hour. You slept two hours! Felix said he would call for you to come and eat brownies with MinHo.
"Shouldn't you search for me first?" Your boyfriend sat on the end of the bed eating the last bag of chips making you whine.
"MinHo! Spill my chips!"
"Give me your hand to spill it."
"Ew."
"Tell Felix you are a taken chicken. He is not going to seduce you with brownies, you are more spoiled than anyone could ever think."
"Listen chicken, sweet Australian man is going to invite us both brownies so shut up. Also go tattoo yourself the word taken on your forehead. Girls think my chip robber is single? Tsk." As always, your unexpected statements make him choke, this time on the chips and laughs at your rolling eyes. "Am I spoiled? When? Where?"
MinHo throws himself on you and tickles you until you are kicking him off you, showing him the white blanket as a surrender sign.
"Should we go on a hiking date?" You suddenly ask.
"Why?"
"Why not? Maybe I want to commit murder and take revenge because they were my favorite chips."
"Jirisan?"
"No, the one we met!"
"Huh? Really?" He takes his phone and casually books a tour already for this weekend. "Maybe I should propose to you so you won't kill me."
You both laugh.
But he isn't joking. He also messages the boutique, he would need the ring for this weekend.
© aquamoonchaii. all rights reserved
REPOSTED.
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New Girl on the Block (17)
(sorry for the late update everyone! I spent time with family this weekend and got a little side tracked lol anyway, please enjoy chapter 17 of “New Girl on the Block” and as always, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)
Ch.1 / Ch.16 / Ch.18 (ao3)
Chapter 17: Subtlety Is Key
The platform ladder that Marinette was standing on sat firmly in Felix’s grip as he watched her attempt to pin a stream of hearts to the wall. She appeared to be having trouble deciding which angle was best, moving her end of the stream up and down while staring at the other end, which was already pinned up, and squinting. He half wondered if she was going to take this long on every stream of hearts she pinned up, since she'd been doing the same up-and-down motion for a while now, but he also didn’t mind waiting if she did. The longer he stood here, the better his chances were of escaping the task of writing those “thank you” cards that Allegra liked to put in her party favors. She always managed to rope him into it, saying that his handwriting was the best amongst them, which, in truth, it was, but why not save the trouble and type out the message on the computer in a curly font? Surely, it would have the same effect.
“Felix, does this look straight to you?”
Felix dragged his gaze back up to Marinette, who was frowning at the spot that she’d finally decided to stop on. The stream of hearts hung to her right, making a nice curve on the wall that looked fine, but he wouldn’t be able to say for certain until he acquired a level, which they didn’t have.
“As straight as it can get, I imagine.” He replied. Even if it was a tad off, the guests would hardly notice. They’ll be too busy mingling and dancing around.
A sigh fell from the ravenette, and she lowered the hearts to give him a tired look. “How is that supposed to help me?”
“Well, it’s definitely not straight now. Does that help?”
Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, obviously disgruntled, and Felix clenched his jaw to avoid smiling. Perhaps he should wait until she got off the ladder to continue. She might kick him in the face otherwise.
“Why are you here if you’re not going to be useful?” She grumbled, turning back to the wall.
A snort escaped Felix’s lips. “I am being useful. I’m holding the ladder so you don’t fall and break your neck.”
“Bold of you to assume I won’t fall whether the ladder is steady or not.”
“Which is another reason why I’m here.” He replied smoothly. “To catch you.”
Marinette hummed, glancing down at him from the corner of her eye. “How kind of you.”
“Yes, it really is, isn’t it?”
She breathed out a small laugh and shook her head, coaxing a smirk from Felix as well.
It’s been about a week since they stayed up all night talking at Allegra’s house, since things between them changed, since things with him changed. He couldn’t quite place what had caused it, except that it was most definitely her. The way she listened to him wholeheartedly throughout the entire night, hanging on his every word, offering support when needed and trading a few stories herself- It made him feel heard, which was immensely strange. Because he’d been heard before, plenty of times in fact. It was nothing new. So why was that night different? Was it because of the soft atmosphere that the moon provided? Or because they were both somewhat tired despite saying otherwise? Why did his entire being feel so clear and refreshed when they went up to bed later on?
Whatever happened, he’d assumed that the feeling would be gone by morning, since nighttime conversations hardly travel to the next day, but imagine his surprise when the feeling swelled full force in his chest the next day, specifically when he greeted Marinette in the hall. It was as crystal clear as the night before, and it had yet to fade even now.
Felix didn’t understand. Not at all. But he certainly wasn’t going to dispute it. He actually began encouraging the feeling, talking with Marinette on a more constant basis, muttering in her direction during conversations, asking more casual questions, throwing around a joke or two about the others when it seemed appropriate- he even found himself teasing her at one point, which led him to the wonderful realization that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was much sassier than he’d given her credit for. Despite her surprise, she’d snapped back immediately, a playful glare in her eyes and a smirk on her lips, and with an unexpected reaction like that, Felix couldn’t not tease her more. That would simply be a waste.
In the following week, he continued to talk with her, and continued to learn how much of a wild card she truly was. She never reacted to his teasing the same way. For example, one minute, she would blush, the next she would smack him, or roll her eyes and shoot right back without a second thought, or even pout. There was no telling what she was going to do next, and Felix eagerly anticipated her next move each time. It was fun for him now, fun to talk with her, fun to see her smirks and glares and giggles when he did. He could understand why Claude, Allegra, and Allan would want to talk with everyone and anyone if they all acted like her.
Their dynamic had definitely changed over the last few days, and although he wasn’t sure how much Marinette had noticed it herself, Felix knew he was thoroughly enjoying the shift.
“There.” Marinette said above him, leaning back to put her hands on her hips. “How’s that?”
Felix’s eyes glazed over the stream of hearts again, and he let out a hum. “A bit more to the left.”
Her shoulders drooped. “Are you serious?”
“No.”
The narrowed yet playful glare that she shot him had Felix holding back another chuckle, and he innocently moved to grab one of the pink, inflated balloons on the table next to them to hand it to her.
“Why do I ask you anything anymore?” She asked as she took the balloon from him.
“Because you know I’m an excellent judge when it comes to fine craftsmanship, such as the stream of hearts hanging above us on the wall right now.”
Marinette scoffed, tacking the balloon to the wall just above the first decoration. “What, are you kissing up to me now? Are you trying to butter me up so I’ll bring you more cheesy croissants?”
Felix shot her a look of feigned offense. “I wouldn’t dream of it, not after the amount of pain and effort that went into the making of those decorations.”
Now she was glaring at him. “Exactly how long do you plan on holding that paper cut against me?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Felix replied, a slight smile betraying his lips as he did.
Marinette huffed, letting her eyes flick up in an eyeroll, and started back down the ladder. Felix moved back to let her off, before grabbing the ladder again to lift it over to the next wall. They still had two more streams to put up.
“You seem to be more present today.” He commented, thinking back on the get-together they had yesterday. She’d been lost in her own thoughts through the first part of it, so much so that Allegra felt the need to ask her if she was alright. Marinette didn’t get to answer due to Claude jumping in, but when Felix asked her about it again a bit later, she quickly froze up, saying that she’d rather keep it to herself for the time being.
Felix understood, of course, and he said as much, but that didn’t stop him from being curious. Or even a bit concerned. She always had a specific look when that model was involved, and she’d worn it openly yesterday. Therefore, he could only assume that that was part of the trouble, but how much trouble? Did they run into each other again? Did he text her? Did he go looking for her somewhere? There were too many possibilities and not enough clues for Felix to draw a firm conclusion. He couldn’t even be sure that Agreste was the problem in the first place.
“Did your troubles sort themselves out?” He added, trying not to look at her too much as he did. Felix didn’t want to pry, but he did want to make sure she was handling herself alright. (Not that that was really in question at this point. After that run-in with the akuma, they all knew quite well that Marinette could take care of things when she needed to.)
Marinette paused at the base of the ladder, tilting her head at him with a questioning glance. “My troubles?”
A slight frown tugged at the corner of Felix’s lips. Had she forgotten already? It must not have been that important, then..
“You said something was bothering you yesterday.” He said anyway.
“Oh!” Understanding washed over her features, but a grimace quickly followed. “Oh.”
Felix rose a brow. Did that mean the problem wasn’t resolved?
“Um.. no.” She said, offering a bit of clarity as she fiddled with the next stream of hearts that they were supposed to be hanging up. “No, it’s still very much there, unfortunately. I’m not sure how everything’s going to work out yet.”
Felix nodded. “I see. I apologize for bringing it up, then.”
“No, no, you’re fine.” She insisted as she climbed the ladder. “I know you were just trying to help.”
“Besides,” Marinette threw another smile over her shoulder, one that was clearly softer than the smirks she’d been giving him earlier, “if it gets to be too much, I’m sure you’ll come to rescue again. So you can have something else to brag about.”
Felix’s eyes widened, admittedly knocked off balance by the comment. Joking about being rescued wasn’t entirely unusual, but ‘again’? What did she mean ‘again’? Did she think he rescued her before? When? Why did he find himself feeling immensely pleased with the thought?
“Of course..” He muttered absently. “I do love to brag, you know.”
It was a bland remark to be sure, not nearly one of his best, but Marinette laughed anyway, as she always did, and turned back around to start pinning the next stream of hearts to the wall.
Felix continued to watch.
~~~~~~
Bzzt. Bzzt.
Adrien lunged for his phone, unlocking it with his fingerprint before it could even finish vibrating, and tapped the notification. Was it her? Had she finally decided to text him? Please let it be her!
A news app flashed onto his screen, and his shoulders sagged as he realized that Marinette hadn’t texted him. How long was she going to wait? It’s already been a full day, and winter break was fading fast. He knew these things could take time, but they honestly didn’t have a lot of that right now. Once school started up again, his schedule was going to go right back to packed, and he’d barely be able to breathe let alone go see her. He didn’t want their precious chance to hang-out to go to waste.
“You good, dude?” Nino asked next to him. “You’ve been hovering around your phone all day. Is something going on?”
“Oh, uh-” Adrien sat up, pushing away his phone and disappointment. Marinette was going to text him eventually. He just needed to be patient. “No, everything’s fine. Père just likes to stay in touch with me while I’m out, so I want to make sure I don’t miss any text messages or anything.”
Nino frowned. “Isn’t sending Gorilla with you enough?”
Adrien shrugged. “Yeah, but you know how he is. He likes to stay on top of things.”
Disgruntlement flicked across Nino’s features, and he tugged his hat down slightly to hide it, muttering, “Or he just likes to control everything.”
Adrien smiled despite the comment. “Come on, he’s not that bad. He let us hang out today, right?”
Nino nodded, though his frown didn’t fade. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.. Just don’t let him distract you from our game. We still have a tie to break.”
Adrien straightened and grabbed the controller that he’d dropped earlier. “Course not! Père or no, I still have plenty of focus to beat you.”
Nino let out a playful scoff. “Sure, dude. We’ll see who beats who this time.”
Adrien chuckled and positioned himself on the couch, and the two jokingly counted down before starting the next match.
Keeping Nino in the dark about Marinette wasn’t something Adrien enjoyed- they were best friends, after all -but he didn’t want to risk talking about her now. The class was only just now starting to be suspicious of Lila, and even then, it was light, joking. They weren’t serious about it yet. If they knew he was meeting up with Marinette, the person they still weren’t entirely fond of, it might serve as a disadvantage to him. What if they stopped listening to him because he was talking with her? He couldn’t take that chance. He needed to get his feet planted firmly on the ground before taking any rash steps forward.
That said, he did need to take some sort of step forward. Lila trying to make a deal with him last week was extremely reassuring, since it meant that she herself thought of him as a threat, but he also knew that he couldn’t slack off because of it. Muttering over her shoulder wasn’t going to work forever, and if he didn’t find a way to crank up the pressure soon, she would start countering his subtle attacks. Maybe he could start talking to people directly? While they were alone. He could talk to them more about Lila and ask if her stories are suspicious.. But what if he talks to the wrong person? Depending on who he conversed with, they might round on him in an instant, and his plan would crumble again. No, he needed to be careful about this. He needed to start with someone he could trust.
“....So,” Adrien glanced at Nino, because who better to start with than his best friend? “what are your thoughts on Lila?”
If Adrien wanted to change everyone’s opinion of Marinette and Lila, he supposed he would have to know those opinion’s first, and Nino, he felt, was the perfect candidate for that. He was a chill, relaxed person, who pretty much liked everybody. (Everybody except Adrien’s father, that is.) His opinion of Lila should be similar to an average of everyone else’s opinion, and Adrien could use that as an estimation of Lila’s- hopefully decreasing -popularity.
Nino scrunched up his nose, clearly confused by the change of subject. “Lila? I mean, she’s alright. Pretty nice. Alya really likes her.”
Adrien nodded thoughtfully. That was about what he expected him to say. “What do you think about her stories? It seems like she’s been everywhere, doesn’t it?”
Nino snorted. “Right? She says she knows everybody and anybody. It’s pretty crazy.”
Adrien’s eyes widened slightly, though Nino didn’t notice. ‘She says she knows everybody’? Not ‘she knows everybody’? If Adrien didn’t know any better, he might say that sounded a little bit like doubt.
“You don’t believe her?” He asked, carefully.
“No, no, I do.” Nino rushed to say, ignoring the game console that was now blinking ‘defeat’ on his side. “It’s just.. you know.. crazy. She’s been all over the world, knows all these different people, and she’s only fifteen. And she kept up with the school the whole time. It sounds like a lot.”
“Yeah, it definitely does.” Adrien agreed, setting his controller aside and hiding a smile. “And now, she’s been taking up the job as class president, even though she’s still planning charity events and working at homeless shelters and hanging out with Alya and the rest of the girls and doing homework.. It makes you wonder how she fits it all into her schedule.”
Nino chuckled. “Yeah, I- It’s.. I don’t know. I definitely couldn’t do it. What about you, though? What do you think about her? You seem to be really interested in her lately.”
Adrien had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid laughing. Interesting was a word.
“Ah, well.. I guess I’m just curious about her more than anything. I’m a model who goes places and meets people all the time, and I haven’t met nearly as many famous people as she has. I wanna learn how she’s managed to not get in any news or magazines so far-”
Bzzt. Bzzt.
Adrien paused mid-word to whirl around and check his phone. He was honestly preparing himself for the disappointment already- why would this time be any different? -when his eyes landed on the tiny speech bubble that represented his text messaging app. His insides leaped at this sight, and he tried to swallow his excitement as he tapped the notification. Was it her? Had she finally texted him?
Marinette’s name splayed across the top of the screen, and it took every ounce of discipline for Adrien not to leap off the couch and cheer. She’d texted him! Marinette had finally texted him back!
~Hey, sorry it took me so long to text you. I’ve been helping my friends out with something. If you want, I can meet up with you at (something) café for lunch on Feb. 15th? Does that work for you?~
Lunch! Adrien wanted to scream. She was inviting him to lunch! Marinette did want to hang out with him more! This was perfect!
He quickly texted her back.
~That sounds great! I’ll see you then ;D~
Adrien hadn’t even checked his schedule yet, but that didn’t matter. He was making this lunch date no matter what. Then he could talk with Marinette about his plans and maybe convince her to come back and-
“Was that your dad?” Nino asked, breaking Adrien from his thoughts yet again. That was probably a good thing though. He shouldn’t be getting too ahead of himself. From the way things looked, Marinette was really enjoying her new school life. It will probably take a lot of convincing to get her to come back. For now, he needed to take things slowly.
Slowly.
“Oh, yeah.” Adrien said, cool as a cucumber. “He was just telling me about my next photoshoot.”
“Another one? It’s not going to stop us from hanging out, is it?”
“No, no, it shouldn’t.” Not that he knew of, anyway. The only thing his meeting with Marinette would hopefully affect was everyone’s opinions of Lila.
Nino relaxed slightly at the answer. “Good. He over-works you way too much. You should ask for a raise or something.”
Adrien laughed. “I think I’d rather keep the time off that he gives me. Anyway, you ready to play another round? You lost, so now you have to catch back up.”
Nino eyed his controller with a slight smile. “Whatever, man, you know I’m gonna pass you up without a problem.”
“Sure you are.” Adrien smirked. “Just like how you were gonna pass me up last round.”
Nino laughed and snatched his controller up. “Oh, it’s on, dude.”
~~~~~~
Allegra drew in a deep breath, reveling in the scent of the special candles she’d ordered. Patchouli and Rosewood- the perfect thing to accentuate the rose bouquets delicately placed on the round tables and encourage the romantic mood for their party. With the lights dimmed and everyone dancing together on top of that, hearts were bound to be captured, and she couldn’t wait to see it, especially when it came to a particular pair.
Allegra set her candle down and subtly glanced over her shoulder at Felix and Marinette, who were currently stringing up the last stream of hearts on the other side of the room. They were both laughing and talking together, completely comfortable as Felix held the ladder steady and Marinette pinned her last balloon at the end of the stream. It was a cliché couple, really- the stoic, uptight rich boy falling hard for the sweet, adorable bakery girl -but Allegra was determined to see it work out. She’s always prided herself on getting unlikely people together, and these two were going to be her ultimate achievement. Of course, at this point, she supposed she could hardly call them an unlikely couple. They’ve been rather in-step with each other as of late. What with their muttering to each other during group-hang outs and sharing secret looks and sitting near each other on a regular basis. She might be inclined to be excited for the progress if she had any idea as to why they were suddenly so close. Last week, Felix was still gritting his teeth about being caught looking at Marinette, yet today, he’s talking and smiling and laughing with her openly. Laughing! Felix doesn’t laugh. He scowls and hisses and maybe smirks when he’s in a good mood, but he doesn’t laugh. Something monumental must have happened between the two that would encourage him to do so. So what was it? When was it? Her entire body was itching to know, and the fact that she knew she couldn’t ask only made it worse. If she tried to ask Felix about the event, he might clam up again, regressing the friendship. If she tried to ask Marinette about the event, the ravenette would probably become flustered or more hyper aware of Felix’s subconscious advancements, which, again, would probably regress the friendship. She was stuck either way.
“They’re driving me crazy.” She finally said, knowing the boys would hear her. If she couldn’t confirm her theories about Felix and Marinette’s interactions, she would rant about them to Claude and Allan instead.
As usual, Claude was the first to respond, glancing up from the party favors she had him arranging to ask, “What? Who’s driving you crazy?”
Allegra turned to him with a sigh and tilted her head ever-so-slightly in the “lovebirds’” direction. “They are. They’re acting differently than they were before, and I don’t know why.”
Claude straightened to glance over her shoulder for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly.
“You mean Felix and Marinette? They look the same to me.”
Allegra scrunched up her nose with a scoff. “What do you mean they look the same? You think Felix just laughs like that on a regular basis?”
Allan wandered over to their conversation then, also watching Marinette and Felix. The blond and ravenette didn’t even look up from the hearts on the wall, which was another big sign that they were becoming increasingly engrossed in each other. Felix was normally highly aware of his surroundings, as was Allegra, and he usually would have noticed the trio’s stares by now. But he didn’t, because he was too busy looking at Marinette instead.
“They have been a bit chummy lately.” Allan agreed, bringing a smile to Allegra’s lips. At least someone besides herself was paying attention.
“Well, yeah, but we knew that already.” Claude said. “They like each other, don’t they? Of course they would be chummy.”
“Yes, but not like that.” Allegra insisted. “Whether Felix likes her or not doesn’t change the fact that he’s technically being open around all of us right now. Isn’t that a bit strange to you? Besides, we still don’t actually know for sure that Marinette has a crush on Felix.”
Claude gave her a look. “What? I thought you said that she got all blushy and stuff when you talked about Felix at the sleepover.”
“She was, but Marinette gets blushy about a lot of things. And I was talking about how comfortable Felix is around her. That would probably make any girl blush.”
“She has a point,” Allan spoke up, “but I do think she might like him. She always gets this certain vibe when he’s around.”
“Oh, it’s definitely a possibility.” Allegra agreed. “You can totally spot the little ‘glow’ she gets when he talks with her, and even that’s improved since Felix changed things up.”
Claude’s eyes widened as he glanced at the pair again, seeming to study them closer this time. “Do you think she’s glowing more because he’s changed?”
“I’d say so,” Allegra answered, tapping her finger to her lip, “But what I want to know is why he changed and when. It can’t have been anything short of last week, because they only started acting this way recently, but what could have happened that we didn’t see? We’ve been with them the whole time.”
“Maybe they’ve been hanging out by themselves?” Allan suggested. “They’re not tied to us, you know.”
“I know, but wouldn’t we have heard about it? Marinette sends us pictures and such all the time. She would have mentioned her and Felix hanging out by themselves.”
Unless Marinette simply didn’t want to offend them, but Allegra still didn’t buy that explanation. As far as she knew, Felix and Marinette’s shift happened sometime after the sleepover, if not right after. It was as though they’d fallen asleep as usual, then woke up as different people entirely when it came to each other. So whatever happened must have happened during the sleepover.. but when? They were all together most of the night. Allegra supposed it could have happened during Hide and Seek, when they were all spread across the mansion, but moments like those were too quick and too tense and she certainly would have noticed Felix’s change in behavior then. That left her with.. A dead end, because the rest of the night, Marinette and Felix were always with one of the trio, even when they were all sleeping.
Unless the two hadn’t been sleeping..
“I don’t think we should overthink it.” Allan said, lightly nudging his shoulder into Allegra’s. “Marinette seems happier around Felix, and Felix is definitely happier around Marinette, so I say we take the win and let them keep getting closer on their own.”
“I agree.” Claude chimed in, surprising Allegra. He normally enjoyed meddling in others’ affairs as much as she did. “If they’ve made it this far without us getting too involved, they're bound to confess to each other at tomorrow’s party, especially with the ‘fake date’ we have planned for them.”
A smile found its way back onto Allegra’s lips. So he did intend to meddle. He just didn’t want to overthink Felix and Marinette’s sudden progress. She should have known.
“That reminds me: I still have to finish arranging that.” Allegra remarked.
She spun on her heel, leaving the boys to their tasks again, and began crossing the room to Felix and Marinette. Their chuckles and smiles quieted down as she approached, but she paid it no mind. Felix was mostly the one to stop laughing, anyway.
“Are you guys all done?” Allegra inquired, not missing the way Felix gently touched Marinette’s arm to help her get off the ladder.
Marinette flashed her a smile. “Yep! We just finished the last streamer. What’s next?”
Allegra let out a hum. “Well, Felix still has to write all of those ‘thank you’ letters for the party favors-”
A tired sigh left the blond.
“-and we have to set up the caterer’s foods, but they aren’t coming in till tomorrow. So I think we’re pretty much done. Claude and Allan are just now finishing their last tasks too.”
“Oh, good!” Marinette beamed. “The place looks great already. I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions tomorrow.”
Allegra smiled. “Neither can I. By the way, since everything’s practically set up, you two can go ahead and stay home until the party starts. That way you both have time to get ready.”
A hint of concern flicked across the ravenette’s features as she knitted her eyebrows together. “Are you sure? I don’t mind coming in early with you guys.”
“I do,” Felix cut in, a slight smirk on his lips as he added, “and I will gladly take the extra free time.”
Allegra smirked as well, because she knew that comment had to be for Marinette’s viewing pleasure. He wouldn’t have had a smirk otherwise, nor would he have held that mischievous glint in his eyes.
Of course, Marinette breathed out a chuckle and briefly rolled her eyes, capturing Felix’s attention immediately. She then offered Allegra a meaningful smile.
“Well, if you change your mind, you can always text me.”
“Of course, but in case I don’t, why don’t you have Felix pick you up for the party tomorrow? Since you’re both not going to be arriving until later.”
Marinette and Felix exchanged a look, as though they were silently asking each other’s opinions, and Allegra had to hold back a snort. They were already reading each other and communicating in their own way. It was too cute and all too obvious. How did Claude not notice the difference earlier?
“I wouldn’t mind if you need a ride,” Felix finally spoke, pulling his shoulders up in a slight shrug, “but it’s your decision.”
Allegra swallowed a coo and glanced to the side, because this person in front of her who used to be dead-set on not helping anyone or scowling the whole way was being incredibly considerate, and she desperately needed a before-and-after video.
Marinette smiled up at him. “A ride would be nice, thanks. That way I don’t have to bother Maman or Papa about taking me at the end of their work shift.”
It was just the answer Allegra wanted to hear. Felix will be the first one to see Marinette in her new dress, and he will have plenty of time to become flustered over it during their drive to the party. Missing Felix’s face when he went to fetch Marinette was going to be a shame- since he himself mentioned how stunning she would look -but if they were lucky, perhaps he’ll still be wearing the expression when the two arrive.
“Great! I’ll call my driver so we can start getting ready to leave then.” Allegra said with a smile.
Marinette nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll go grab my purse and put up the ladder.”
“I’ll put up the ladder.” Felix cut in, already moving to close it.
A frown tugged at the corner of her lips. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. They like their tools to be put back a certain way.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks, then.”
Allegra watched Marinette walk off, feeling a fresh wave of determination.. Gosh, they were already acting like they were in love with each other. Well, Felix was at least. Marinette was about that kind to anyone. Either way, things were going smoothly now, and it should only take a carefully-timed push for the two to really get the ball rolling.
Valentine’s Day, Marinette and Felix being dressed up, both of them being alone together while dressed up, the sudden closeness- finally, all of her plans were coming together. The only thing that could possibly make this better was if Cupid himself came out to see them swoon over each other.
That wasn’t going to happen, of course, but it didn’t need to, because Allegra was going to be glad to take his place.
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Deep Focus: Chapter 1 [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]
Summary: Tom’s a successful porn director with a romantic streak which proves very popular with his female audience. His resident porn actress and business partner has been with him through thick and thin, the two of them growing completely inseparable, even as her own career starts taking off.
But working in such close proximity is intense, and burgeoning feelings threaten to complicate their professional relationship.
Mature, smut, porn director!AU, ethical porn production discussion, porn-star-and-coworker!reader. Friends to lovers, slow-ish burn. [7.7k]
________________________________________________________
There was such a style to everything Tom wrote, everything he directed. A sincere passion that you suspected was always meant to be used elsewhere. You wondered if his craftsmanship was ever appreciated, on the other side of the screen, as strangers got hot and bothered watching each meticulously designed frame of his vision come to life.
Sure, it was porn. But Tom directed it like he could win an Oscar for ‘hot lifeguard pounded poolside’. This was his livelihood, his passion, and it was a damn shame he wasn’t award-season eligible.
The names would make you wince, as you saw them uploaded to the site, thumbnails and previews drawing in viewers by the million with their shots of heaving bodies and glistening sweat. Tom never called the videos such crass things. Not in his scripts. You would get copies titled ‘Romantic Night In’ or ‘Office Love Affair.’ He was a fan of sugar-coating what would be inside those innocuous white pages, a veneer of respectability which Tom insisted upon, regardless of how obvious the true nature of the videos was. But once the videos were sold, it was out of his hands. Your face contorted mid-faux-orgasm would be plastered across the site, and everyone involved would try and forget what happened.
Ignore the comments.
Keep moving.
You often wondered how Tom wound up in this place, with his sharply tailored suits and polished shoes, eloquent and educated, his words almost poetic as he directed mid-budget porn in hotel rooms and his studio day-in, day-out.
Then again, he never seemed particularly bothered by it. He gave each shoot his full attention, his full boundless enthusiasm and all the professionalism he could muster. You wondered how he balanced it, sometimes, the creative drive to press on with trying to be creative and shoehorn romance into films knowing that, ultimately, it was porn.
He had interviewed you like a real director might, talking about your life and experience and ambitions, almost apologetic when he had finally choked out ‘could you undress’, barely glancing at your naked form before he hired you as his first employee.
You asked him early on, while watching him try and assemble a fake restaurant-date set in the studio, complete with faux windows and an extra playing a waiter, why he bothered when three-minutes of good quality fucking footage would make him the same amount of money. He’d given you a strange smile, the wrinkles beginning to appear at the corners of his eyes, and shrugged.
“I make what I’d like to see.”
The words haunted you later, as your rather attractive co-star bent you over the white-cloth covered dining table and you allowed mewls and groans to escape your mouth without a second thought. Trying to avoid the muted blue of Tom’s eyes behind the cameraman.
Despite your reservations when you first started to work for him, Tom had won you over. His gentler, more romantic approach to pornography had a loyal following. Both of your pseudonyms garnered huge numbers of views across various platforms, and Tom was keen to cultivate a collection of female-friendly porn. Against all the odds, it was working.
And you loved working with him. He was a great director, and inspired writer, and a genuinely brilliant boss. He made sure you saw royalties, good pay, that everyone you worked with was screened and tested, always keeping you safe. Always.
Each time he called a wrap, passing you a robe and offering a meek congratulations on your performance, you found yourself more and more pleased you had wound up working with him.
“You really do have a talent,” he’d told you one day, distracting you as you discussed a new script in his office.
You were sat opposite him, Tom’s glasses perched on his head as he watched you read, your feet resting against the leg of his desk. You’d come in to your shared workspace to try some costumes out, to discuss new scenes, still recovering from a thoroughly exhausting shoot the day before. There were still light bruises around your wrists, and you caught Tom glancing at them worriedly each time your long-sleeved shirt slipped.
“I love that you’re such an actor,” he continued, hands tapping the desk as he spoke, “like, a real actor.”
Your eyes drifted across the script, scanning it with your bottom lip between your teeth. He always appreciated your input, wanting the ‘female fantasy’ in a lot of his work, and he’d timidly shown you some ‘student-professor’ script he’d been working on. He was like that, embarrassed in a way which you wouldn’t expect from a man with his considerable experience in adult entertainment. He was assertive, certain, even stern where it counted. But with just the two of you together, dancing around what was sexy and what wasn’t, he seemed desperate to avoid saying anything you might perceive as too ‘crude’.
“What do you mean?” you’d chuckled, still flicking through the first draft.
He only entrusted you with such early versions of his work – but that made sense. Your careers were symbiotic, tied to one another with an unspoken pact. He directed everything you were in, and you were in everything he directed.
It made sense.
“You don’t just… I don’t know. You never make my scripts seem silly. Or cheesy. You… you really try and make them feel real. I could write anything, and you’ll deliver the lines well. I was overseeing auditions earlier and... I just kept thinking none of them were you. I think you might be the best in the business.”
You rolled your eyes, offering him a disbelieving smirk, and he scoffed.
“I’m serious! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The weight of his words settled heavy in your chest, and you turned back to the script, frowning as you flicked through the loose-leaf pages. Tom fidgeted behind his desk, unhappy with losing your attention, but you ignored him.
“Here. If you want the fantasy to be believable, I think he needs to lock the office door. Make a show of it, you know. Cover my mouth,” you comment dismissively. Tom already has as pen in his hand, making notes. “It could be hot, maybe ‘Don’t make a sound or you can’t cum’, something like that. As if there’s other students in the corridor outside.”
Nodding, Tom dutifully wrote down your words, mouth slightly open in realisation as he listened.
“Don’t make a sound…” Tom repeated, and you felt yourself blush.
“Not… not that exactly,” you backtracked, “you’re the real writer! I just think, there needs to be some build up. A remind of the power dynamic. Him going straight to oral is a bit… fast. That could happen in any old plot, you know?”
You felt his eyes on you, looking up from the paper to spot Tom leaning back in his chair, a distant smile on his face.
“You really are the best,” he praised, “that’s great. I’ll do rewrites tonight.”
For a moment, you let his words hang heavy in the air. Then you blinked back at him, a slight frown pinching your forehead at his strange mood. He was calm, for once. Tom was usually a ball of enthusiasm, and you wondered if your dismissal of his words earlier had done something to hamper his spirit.
“It’s always easier to critique,” you dismissed, “I love the script, it’s great. I really think it’ll be good. Hot. Maybe I can wear a Britneyschool girl costume, or something?”
He frowned a little, pinching the bridge of his nose at the thought.
“No, weird. We’re going for University student, just… a nice pair of jeans or something.”
“Don’t they wear suits where you went, posh boy?” you teased, loving how it riled him up. “I’ll try and dress like a smart person.”
“You are smart, don’t give me that.”
You rolled your eyes, loving how you managed to fluster him, putting the script back on his cluttered desk as you reached for your bag. This was how your meetings always went, a few hours of notes, some teasing, and a hasty retreat once Tom told you the next shoot day you had to attend. You still had a few hours of social media to do for the last video you’d shot together, notes from Tom, and you lamented the sight of the sun setting outside of your shared office. You’d hoped for at least a bit of natural light today.
“I’m serious, you are!” Tom asserted, and you ignored him purposely as you shut down your laptop, preparing to take it home.
“Yeah, I know, whatever. Don’t work too late!”
“Rich coming from you,” he sighed, “it really doesn’t matter if we send that last edit late.”
“It matters to me! I’d quite like to get paid this week, you know?”
Tom sighed. The two of you tried to produce a couple of videos a week – one for Tom’s site and another to sell to a third party. It didn’t leave either of you with much free time, both of you left in the tiny office at all hours as you worked to keep up with demand.
“Very true. But I’d rather you got some sleep, you know I can help if you’re short on money,” he offered, shuffling papers on his own desk.
He was always quick to jump to an offer to help, and you tried to ignore the fondness spreading through your chest at his eagerness to look out for you. That gentle protectiveness which coursed through Tom was enough to make you melt.
He was one in a million, that was for sure.
“I’m fine, Tom. Thank you though, I’ll ask, if, y’know –”
“Do! Any time. Actually…”
Tom cut himself off, typing something into his phone, and your pocket buzzed with a notification.
“Get yourself a nice dinner.”
You checked your phone to see a transfer from Tom. It wasn’t a crazy amount, but too much for just dinner, and you huffed performatively as he grinned at you.
“No! Don’t be ridiculous –”
He barely made more than you, and you were certainly doing perfectly comfortably.
“Royalties are really good this month. That old break-up sex video is trending again, apparently.”
You smothered a smile. It was hate-fucking, as you’d told Tom a hundred times. That was the title. You could still remember the look on his face the day you’d filmed it, his twitchiness, the unknown male actor who had slightly scared both of you with his sheer size as he stepped into the studio. The male star had fucked you like you’d broken his heart, hands on your neck and hips bruising yours as he pounded into you, and you’d be a little alarmed at how little you had needed to act in his domineering presence. He’d been muscular and tall and assertive, almost injuring you with his enthusiasm, and the shoot had ended with you a sweaty mess, struggling to walk, eyes watery.
You had ached from the moment Tom helped you up from the bed, a protective body between you and your costar as you watched the man collect his clothes and his paycheck. The footage had been great, you’d watched Tom edit it, but it had been your first taste of Tom’s protectiveness. The actor had never returned, and Tom had bought a hot water bottle for the office, pressing it into your lap as he brought tea for the pair of you, loathing how you winced as you moved.
He’d taken you out for dinner that night to celebrate a good edit, but you knew the real reason. That neither of you wanted the other to be alone. It had been a lovely evening, a restaurant then a bar, without a break in laughing conversation the entire night. It hadn’t been a date, but if it had been a date, it would’ve been the nicest date you’d ever been on. In those moments, you wondered if Tom was really cut out for the industry. If you were.
As much as Tom hated the film, it was hot. It had propelled your studio into the spotlight, and it paid a significant chunk of your rent.
“Thank you,” you smiled to him, wracking your mind for anything else that needed discussing before you headed home.
Maybe you’d get takeaway. That would be nice.
Tom cleared his throat.
“What are we shooting tomorrow, by the way?”
You looked up at his words, frowning a little at the realisation you hadn’t been given a script yet. It was unlike him, to be so unprepared. Usually everything was organised weeks in advance. With a glance at the shadows under his eyes, you decided not to tease him about it.
“We’re shooting tomorrow?”
“This week… we’ve only got one video. I was just thinking something simple, I haven’t called a costar yet, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to –”
It was your paycheck on the line as much as Tom’s, and you wondered how the hell you’d forgotten.
“Do we have a camera crew?” you frowned.
“No, not yet. I can call though. Or I could just do it myself, if we’re not doing anything too complicated?”
You thought for a moment, leaning against the open doorframe as Tom started to pack up his own desk, nimble fingers tapping across his keyboard.
“Solo?” you suggested, stifling a laugh as Tom blinked and tilted his head to face you.
“I missed that, love?”
“Solo. Like ‘hot female solo’ or something?”
He smiled slightly, closing his laptop lid.
“That’ll do well, I’m sure. Do we need anything costume-wise? Props?”
Toys. He meant toys. You smiled at his refusal to call a spade a damn spade.
“I’m sure we can find everything here. It’ll be nice to do a simple shoot for a change,” you enthused, holding the door for Tom as he moved to turn off the lights, lingering nearby as he locked up the office.
“Yeah. Single-shot, no camera-man either.”
“Cheap,” you sighed, as though it was the sexiest thing in the world.
You did the books, and avoiding having any more costs this month sounded great.
“Yeah,” Tom smiled, falling into step beside you as the two of you left the warehouse studio.
He looked ready to say something else, but changed his mind. For a second the two you stood by the exit, words trapped beneath your closed lips as the early evening air enveloped you.
“Do you need a lift home?” Tom finally offered.
“No. No, I’m good. Thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, yeah. Usual time. Twelve?”
“Perfect.”
He reached an arm out, ready for you to walk into his embrace, and you froze. The moment was over as soon as it started, his arm retracted, and you could only stare. His hand found the curls at the back of his head, scratching there, a blush dusting his cheeks in the harsh fluorescent lights of the car park. You could kick yourself as you watched the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clench of his jaw. He felt awkward. You contemplated hugging him, but the moment had passed. Instead you rocked on your heels for a second, before turning to leave.
“Bye, Tom!”
“‘Night! Look after yourself, don’t forget dinner. I’ll see you – ”
He cut himself off as you walked too far away, and you could have kicked yourself for the sadness in his final syllable. You sighed as your feet fell against the pavement, your whole walk home haunted by the awkward shuffle of Tom’s hands as he went to hug you goodbye.
*
You were surprised by how difficult it was to brush off that awkward memory. As you ordered and ate dinner, you were reminded of Tom with every bite, that he’d snuck aside part of the company’s petty cash budget to give you dinner. That both of you had gone home, separately, to separate empty houses and empty beds.
Had he wanted to go for drinks? Wanted company? You had come to accept a long time ago that the man was your closest friend. He would be the person you called in an emergency, a shoulder to cry on. You liked to think he’d lean on you the same way.
Despite that, you spent limited time together outside of a professional context. You never met up on weekends, or casually called. Of course you didn’t. He made a career out of seeing you naked, watching you fake orgasms for other men. As you readied yourself for the day, you reminded yourself that of course, he would be nice to his only full-time, very lucrative actress. To his business partner.
As you’d queued up the company’s social media posts the night before, you could only think of Tom behind the camera, orchestrating each photo and clip you uploaded.
You couldn’t help the grin which split your face as you walked into the studio, bag flung over your shoulder, overpacked with everything you thought you could possibly need. Tom greeted you, emerging from his office with a smile.
Before you could overthink it, you walked into his arms, giving him very little choice in the matter as you greeted him with a hug. In his surprise you felt his body stiffen, his arms slowly wrapping around you, and you were momentarily gobsmacked by the muscular form he seemed to hide behind those suits.
He was a little more dressed down today, smart black jeans and a button-up white shirt, unruly hair sticking up like it did when he forgot to brush it. He looked better than yesterday, like he’d had a good night’s sleep.
“Good morning,” he chuckled, bemusement clear in his voice.
You pulled back from the hug, a little embarrassed at the affection until you saw the smile stretching across his face, reaching his eyes. Suddenly the previous night, worrying you had inadvertently rejected him, seemed to be erased.
“Morning! What have you got for me?”
The studio space was cleaned, but empty. The camera stood in the corner as Tom lead you further into the room, his office door open to the side of it, and you frowned at the emptiness of the space.
There were tape marks on the floor where sets were usually assembled, conspicuous without the usual hive of activity buzzing around some piece of furniture you would be thrown onto or fucked against. There was nothing.
“I didn’t know what you wanted to do,” Tom was saying, his gentle voice booming in the empty space, “we don’t have a script or anything so… I’ll leave it to you.”
You bit your lip.
It was more freedom than you were used to, less direction, less to build the fantasy where you could forget you were ultimately in a warehouse with just your business partner. It was… nothing. Tom said your name quietly, and you nodded, stepping back to assess the space.
“I’m just thinking,” you reassured him.
Had the studio always been this quiet? You tried to remember a shoot day where it had been this silent, this calm, without the stress of lighting people or cameramen or scripts being thrown around. You could hear every step Tom took as he walked towards the camera, the wheel-mounted tripod creaking as he moved it across the floor, checking batteries and SD cards while you stood in place, your bag still hanging from one shoulder.
Noticing your frozen stance Tom frowned across at you, nothing but gentle concern in his blue eyes and the fine lines around them.
“I was thinking something kind of minimal, maybe cosy?” he offered, “Maybe an armchair? Something like that?”
You thought about it for a moment, crossing to the corner of the room to finally set down your bag.
He was finally getting into ‘director mode’, growing more energetic by the second.
“I’m thinking we just frame it on you, no distraction. Single take, if we can.”
You nodded silently as he crossed to the storage cupboard he’s overeagerly labelled a ‘props department’. It was stacked high with fabric and furniture and lingerie, tubs of various exotic sex toys near the door. Tom stepped straight past them.
There was a mattress in the props room, materials to build a bed, and you pondered on the idea for a moment.
“We could keep it really simple, maybe?” you suggested, “Find a warm background. Or just use white. Try and get one twenty minute shot, or something.”
You reached for lube without thought, collecting the near-empty bottle of body oil beside it too, as you perused the options in front of you.
“Remind me to buy more of that,” Tom mused, sparing a glance to the bottles in your arms before standing beside you to peruse the options.
You nodded silently, your free hand rifling through bagged silicone toys, slightly in a daze as you picked out a few options. There was a slight blush dusted across Tom’s high cheekbones as he turned to see your arms full of dildos. You smiled as it took him a second to find words, and wondered how the hell he’d chosen to start a porn studio in the first place.
“Colour co-ordinated,” he commented, and you smiled, picking out yet another pink toy from the pile.
“Naturally,” you smiled, “I think that’s everything? Could we drag a mattress and pillows out?”
He nodded silently, already moving to manoeuvre the double mattress leaning against a wall in the props room. You rolled your eyes before helping, knowing he was being a gentleman, or whatever he called it. You called it putting his back out.
He rejected your help, so you grabbed as many pillows as you could, following him back into the main studio, privately smiling at the dramatic grunts he made trying to move the mattress. He tossed it to the ground with a grunt, shoving it into the corner of the room, before pausing again.
You dropped everything down on to it, toys, lube, pillows and all.
And then both of you waited.
It was so strangely intimate, just the two of you in the room, the strange nature of your relationship weighing heavy after last night’s miscommunication. Suddenly there was nothing you wanted to do less than take your clothes off.
“White sheets?”
“Hm?” you hadn’t processed what Tom said, too wrapped up in your own world, frowning down at the bare mattress.
“I was thinking white sheets.”
“Oh, uh, yeah.”
He was off, assigned another task, and you almost envied his distraction as you slowly sorted the pillows how you wanted, gathered the toys absentmindedly. Before Tom came back from the props closet you made yourself scarce, catching sight of his slim outline through the doorway. Facing away from you as he rummaged.
In the single bathroom of the studio you cleaned anything that would be going inside of you, avoiding your reflection, trying to shake off the odd nervousness coursing through your veins.
Why? It had been years since you felt this way before a shoot. Before you’d met Tom, even. Sure, shoots could be exciting, exhilarating, intimidating, but this self-consciousness, this self-doubt… it had come from nowhere.
You pressed your forehead to the mirror, closing your eyes, breathing deeply. The tap running sounded like a waterfall, the silicone under your fingers felt alien, the air almost claustrophobic as you wondered what the hell was wrong with you.
Tom was done making the bed when you got back, frowning at his phone until he heard you re-enter the studio space, quick to look up and see if you were happy with his set. You felt hyper-aware of him, of every movement he made, a clean towel and toys cradled in one arm as you took in the space. It was a simple premise, just a clean fitted sheet pillows in a corner, a clear space for you in the middle. You knew it would look good on screen. You knew this was an easy job.
You felt sick to your stomach.
“Do you want to face the camera? Or kind of, not acknowledge it?” Tom asked, speaking again as you forgot to reply, too caught up in your own mind. “Maybe if you ignore it that’s more… voyeuristic?”
“Sounds good,” you responded, kneeling to prepare your space. This was autopilot, your day job. You could do this.
“Right.”
He sounded a little put out by your response, but moved the camera anyway, switching to a knee-height tripod. You stood, stepped back to give him space, and frowning at the sudden headrush. You blinked, catching yourself staring at the flex of his arms as he moved the heavy equipment. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring into space until Tom called your name a second time, crossing into your personal space.
“Are you okay?”
Tom’s voice was so soft you wanted to cry, fingers hovering beside your bicep, his gentle eyes demanding for you to meet them, daring for you to lie while his face is so close to yours.
Somehow, the guilt of his worry made you feel worse.
“No, I’m…I’m being stupid. Sorry, just tired.”
“Did you not sleep well?”
“No, I, uh, I slept fine. I’m not sure. Just not really feeling it.”
His face fell, but you knew he wasn’t disappointed in you. He thought he’d done something wrong. Immediately you were talking, doing anything you could to soften his guilt.
“It’s my job, though. I can do it. This is great Tom, I think it’ll be a good shoot.”
“Sweetheart –”
You sighed, eyes falling to the mattress, before forcing a smile.
“Let’s get this over with!”
He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but you forced yourself to move, pulled your feet from the floor with far more effort than it ought to take. There was some comfort in rummaging through your own bag, that piece of home, something private from the studio. You found the vibrator you’d brought, a pink bullet you used almost exclusively at home, fully charged that morning. Behind you, Tom snorted in amusement.
“Nothing here is ever charged,” you shrugged off his stare, knowing damn well you didn’t have to explain yourself.
You wanted to explain anyway though. Just in case, Tom thought anything he did wasn’t enough. He seemed perfectly fine with the criticism, though you knew he was making a mental note. He always did, then you had something to say.
Trying not to make a big deal out of it, you stripped to your underwear, folding your clothes neatly and being careful not to show any self-consciousness in your posture. You’d never been ashamed or embarrassed before now, and you weren’t about to start. Even if it was just you, and a very well, fully dressed Tom. Vibrator clutched in your fingers, you finally sat on the damn mattress.
He was the other side of the camera now, somehow both distant and a few feet away. You found yourself staring at your body in the monitor, just watching. Tom’s voice broke you out of yet another daze, and you wanted to pinch yourself. Why couldn’t you do it today?
“We don’t have to do this today, if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay I just… I forget it’s just us sometimes, you know? There’s such a production and so many people and at the end of the day…”
Tom smiled, a relief on his face that told you he had been feeling it too. That this was weird.
“I know what you mean. If you’re uncomfortable…”
“Just give me a second to warm up, we need to make something, after all.”
You stretched, not really sure why, moving a little around the nook Tom had created, shuffling pillows and practicing where you wanted to lie back, watching a monitor as Tom played with a soft lighting, twisting and turning to find the most flattering angles you could.
As he shuffled things around, Tom nodded to the spread of toys you’d set out. You’d added your vibrator to the pink line up, perfectly organised on the white towel.
“Do you want those in shot?”
You shrugged.
“Might be hot?”
He nodded silently. You moved the toys in to the frame, trying to blink away the cloud which had settled in your mind. The world felt foggy, your arms like they were moving through treacle, and you knew Tom had noticed.
As he prepared two directional microphones, you tried not to feel claustrophobic. The audio from the microphone he was pointing towards your pussy would be almost grotesque, and you fought not to shuffle further from it as you imagined Tom listening later, headphones in, as he balanced the levels between your moans and the wet sounds of you fucking yourself.
Fuck.
Why was this so different to a regular shoot?
You’d done solo shoots before. With Tom. And half-a-dozen other crew, you reminded yourself.
You caught sight of his curls above the monitor, face serious as he set everything up.
“Speak?”
“Testing, testing,” you spouted off nonsense until he offered you a thumbs up, happy with the audio.
Then there was nothing else to do.
He stood, looming over the equipment. And you looming over you.
“What’s the plan?” he asked, smiling at your frown. “You’re in charge here, I’m just the camera guy.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing he was trying to put you at ease.
“You’re the director,” you reminded him, knowing how he preened himself under the title.
You were impressed that his eyes had only roamed down your body once as he took in the shoot, glancing at the indulgent layout of toys, double checking the monitor, one headphone in. He had that stance he always adopted when he was directing, and you knew it was his favourite moment in any of this. The moment everything was pinned on him.
It happened so quickly you almost missed the moment he knelt down, blinking in surprise as his face remerged at your level beside the camera.
“Then my direction is: enjoy yourself. Forget I’m here. Let’s show them something real.”
He must have seen your shock, because it made him smile.
“Real?” you questioned, and he nodded firmly.
“I’m serious.”
For a beat, both of you were silent, his eyes meeting yours over the body of the camera.
“If you can,” he offered, “I understand it’s not always…”
You interrupted him with a hand, smiling your understanding of what he was saying, and dismissing it in one motion. The silence dragged on, and you decided to push this forwards. If you were done by lunch, Tom would probably insist on taking you somewhere nice.
“I don’t know if I should use – ” you ghosted a finger across the biggest toy, worrying a bottom lip between your teeth, “Simplicity might be key.”
“Do what you want, darling. What feels good.”
You nodded mutely, and for just a second you saw doubt flicker across his face. This was new territory, and even you weren’t sure if this was a step too far.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah. If I’m… actually… it might take a while. Let me know if I’m taking too long.”
“Take as long as you need, darling. I’ve got nowhere to be.”
Tilting your head at him a little, you realised abruptly just how intimate this was. Moreover, that you wanted it anyway. That you were about to make him watch you cum. Make him hear you, smell you. He couldn’t touch, but he could watch.
And that was enough for you to perform.
Tom gave you a countdown, red lights peppered your field of view, and he was recording. He had taken a seat on the floor behind the camera set up, one headphone in to monitor audio, waiting.
You stayed sat up, back arched a little as your hands began to caress you own body, keeping on eye on the monitor while your face was out of the shot. You rubbed along your thighs, across your stomach, teasing at the lace of your bra and the elastic of your underwear each time you passed them, trailing your fingertips. It didn’t really feel like anything, doing this to yourself, but you knew to tease the camera. Tom would cut out anything too slow.
Your gaze remained firmly on the screen as you began to make your touches firmer, more deliberate, dragging lines into your skin and flirting with the camera. You admired the soft skin of your breasts as you started to shift your bra, enjoying the stiffening of your nipples in the monitor until –
The screen went black, and you immediately glanced at Tom, frowning as you lost the visual of yourself. He met your questioning gaze sternly, eyebrows furrowed, and you remembered his direction.
“Enjoy yourself.”
With nothing left to look at you closed your eyes, feeling the blood rushing to the surface of your skin, the sensitivity of your breasts as your fingers idly danced across them. You shoved your bra down unthinkingly, wanting to feel more, rubbing at the heaviness of your breasts and wincing as you enjoyed the pleasure and pain of pinching at your nipples, teasing them to attention. You glanced your nails across them, feeling it in your core. You didn’t want to wait anymore. Fuck the cameras.
It was hard to let to, to stop the delicious feeling of your fingers on your own breasts, but you forced yourself to free one hand, shoving off the bra, desperate to feel yourself without it. You knew you were grimacing, it wouldn’t be sexy, but you didn’t care. That was Tom’s problem.
You needed to touch yourself.
One hand reached below the waistband of your underwear, seeking out your clit, guided by a familiar ache. It was all you could focus on, your other hand forgotten, cupping your breast, the sensation vague and lost as your fingers found your clit. The sensation overwhelmed you as you shifted the hood, your body beginning to produce wetness. The room was a little cold, the air relieving against the heat of your bare skin, making your nipples peak as you leant back into the nest of pillows behind you.
You felt your stomach tense, a bolt of electricity tensing the muscles up and down your body as you brushed across your clit a little too hard. Your middle finger probed your pussy experimentally, slipping inside of you, quickly joined by a second as you played with the wetness there.
One, two, three pumps of your fingers inside you was enough for you to gasp, your eyes still closed against the bright lights as focused on nothing but feeling. No more fucking around.
You reached for your vibrator, hand knocking against the thick silicone toy lined up beside it, writhing as you pressed it against the fabric covering your clit. You cycled through the settings as fast as you could, still desperate for more stimulation.
More. It was on the highest setting. You wanted more.
Without moving the vibrator you shoved your underwear off, huffing as you kicked them away, not caring where they landed. The tip of the toy nudged against your clit exquisitely, and you froze.
There.
There.
You thought about Tom watching you. The hot blood coursing through your body, the line up of toys just waiting to be shoved inside of you. The sensitivity of you clit as you held it against that perfect point. The air against your dripping, aching pussy. The muscles starting to clench, the rhythm of your body. Building, building, you didn’t fight the feeling.
This was what you wanted.
That warm familiarity of the vibrator on your clit, the runaway train of your thoughts, it was enough to drive you over the edge. You hadn’t realised the keening, groaning noises you were making until you heard them, pleasure leaving your lips as an afterthought.
You felt empty.
Blindly you reached out, sticky fingers finding the shaft of a toy you wanted, a smaller one you could take right now. A dollop of lube in the palm of your hand was all it would take, a few pumps of the toy enough to coat it, the excess lubricant smeared on the sheets. You didn’t care. Not your problem.
Without conscious thought, you were still rubbing yourself, two fingers absently making circles against your clit as you fidgeted to be able to take the dildo. You didn’t bother preparing yourself anymore. You were wet enough, and you wanted the stretch.
Needed it.
Needed to feel full.
You shoved the toy into yourself, gritted teeth and your spare hand grasping at your breast, giving the nipple a sharp pinch to interrupt the overwhelming feeling of that silicone pushing inside of you. Your walls were stretched open, a gasp reaching your ears as you felt a nudge against your cervix.
It wasn’t enough. You felt wild, desperate, as you sloppily pulled the toy from yourself and shoved it back in, clenching down and still needing more.
Your fingers found a larger toy, arousal and lubricant smearing across your body as you discarded the dildo which you had just been fucking yourself with, leaving it somewhere on the mattress, forgotten in favour of the bigger option. It was thick. Maybe, in your right mind, you wouldn’t have considered it. But instead you coated it in lube, squirting the clear liquid on to the tip and rubbing it down the toy, focusing on nothing but the need pulsing through your pelvis.
On the emptiness inside you, begging, pleading to be filled. It hurt, how much you wanted to be stretched out, to feel something pounding into you. You felt animalistic, desperate for anything. The last of your conscious thought was occupied by the need in your clit, the demand for friction, and you just didn’t have enough hands. It was impossible to think. When you finally sank down on the fake cock, leaning back, legs apart, gaze focused on nothing but your own swollen pussy, it was a relief. You gasped, then sighed, pushing another inch of the toy inside you. You felt stretched already, split in half, but you kept going. With each thrust, you took the silicone further inside of you until you felt the dull ache of the toy going too far.
Finally, that emptiness felt sated, and you stayed still, too stuffed to risk moving and too blissed out to care.
But you needed more.
Each bear down made the toy threaten to shift, and you didn’t have the brain power to thrust and pay attention to your aching clit. You moved gingerly, grabbing a pillow to straddle, holding the toy inside you as you hunted for your vibrator.
You couldn’t even lean too far to reach it, you were so full it ached. And it was delicious.
With the smooth plastic finally in your hand you leant back, ready to bring yourself to another orgasm. With a blink, you realised there was a tear tracking its way down your cheek, and you smiled to yourself.
And then you accidentally looked forwards. Your eyes met Tom’s. The camera. The lights. The switched off monitor.
You wanted to cry.
He was watching you directly, with those sharp blue eyes, one finger resting along his jawline, his usual calculating, wide stance replaced with one knee hugged to his chest as he sat on the concrete floor. He was watching you.
You. Stuffed full, straddling a pillow on the bed Tom had fucking made, covered in a mix of lube and your own arousal. That strange feeling from earlier came back full force.
God. He had seen you actually come. Without acting or cheesy lines or clever angles to hide the worst of your O-face. You could pretend to come, tell your male co-stars what a good time you’d had, follow direction, anything. But this was too real. And it was just you and Tom. In the corner of a huge studio, bright lights and cameras and –
Had he called cut? You wouldn’t have heard. Did he realise you’d lost control? That you had forgotten you were supposed to be acting and been so desperate and –
“You’re doing amazing.”
You smiled at him weakly, gasping as the toy inside you nudged your cervix as you fidgeted. You didn’t realise that you were awaiting direction until he spoke.
“Another one?”
His voice was a little throatier than usual, though you supposed he’d been quiet for a while. His eyes kept drifting from your face, and you wondered if he felt as uncomfortable as you did.
You nodded silently, closing your eyes, listening to the increasing pitch of the vibrator as you turned it up to its maximum setting.
The minutes stretched on as your orgasm built, little raises and falls of your hips accompanying that insistent buzz of your favourite vibrator, the toy inside you starting to ache as it stretched you apart. It was impossible to forget that Tom was watching you now. That his piercing gaze was on you. As a matter of professionalism, you tried to avoid looking up. You ignored the camera, fucked your body in the way you knew it would respond to, only half-faking it as you came a second time.
You moaned and groaned and gave the camera an indulgent few seconds of overstimulation, the vibrator pushed against your clit to make you writhe and shake. You pulled yourself off the dildo in a mess of arousal, played with yourself, showing off how stretched out you were.
Fingers swirling in the arousal inside of you, you sighed in relief when Tom called, “cut.”
Dropping the toy, you pulled your legs together, ignoring him for a second as you took deep breaths. Taking stock of your body, the residual pleasure and pain and stickiness. A lot of stickiness.
Tom took pity on you, shifting a softbox so you had a clear path out of the corner you were hemmed into.
“Go and have a shower,” he told you, the most softly-spoken command you’d ever heard.
Nonetheless, you followed orders. On weak legs, you indulged in as long as shower as you dared, cleaning up and then just… waiting. Trying to avoid the real world. When you finally opened the door, wrapped in a robe, you found your clothes folded outside. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but you thanked the universe for him anyway.
When you re-emerged you were fully dressed and feeling a lot more like yourself again. And, actually, quite proud of yourself. Tom’s busyness told you everything had been recorded properly, equipment moved and the mattress bare, leant against the wall.
“All good?” you asked, more to announce your presence than anything. He stopped moving, offering you a gentle smile.
“Perfect! I think it’ll be great. Do you want to go get lunch somewhere? To celebrate?”
Predictable as anything. The thought made your heart swell with fondness for him, his head tilt and excitement, his strange place here.
“I think I’ll just go home,” you tried to smile apologetically, but you could still feel the ache inside you, the dull oversensitivity of your clit against your underwear.
The embarrassment and excitement fighting in the fit of your stomach.
Tom nodded, clear understanding on his face. He held the door for you on the way out.
“Are you coming in tomorrow?” he asked, quietly, like you might run off if he asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you then.”
*
Your bedroom fell silent as the vibrator stopped, the battery finally flat. You whined in disappointment, desperate for another orgasm. Your fingers replaced it instantly, rubbing, desperately pulling more wetness from the arousal weeping from you, but you were too oversensitive.
Panting, vision blurry, your thighs aching, you blinked away tears. You glanced at the nightstand. Tom hadn’t text you.
*
When you woke up the next morning your phone was dead. You’d forgotten to charge it last night, and leaving it in your room to charge offered a strangely peaceful morning. You had a few hours before you would be expected at the studio, and no work to do before then.
You indulged in spending time getting ready for the day, making a decent breakfast, doing a few chores you’d been putting off.
Processing what had happened yesterday.
In the clear light of day, you wondered if you ought to be embarrassed for the way you’d completely lost yourself at the shoot. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about it, the more you rationalised at you’d just followed Tom’s direction. Done what he’d asked. It had been intense, for sure, but you’d done what he’d asked. If anything you regretted the moment he’d had to speak, losing your nerve. You hoped he didn’t want pick-up shots today, you weren’t sure your body could take any more.
You thought about the night before, clearing up the scattered clothes and charging the vibrator you’d left strewn beside your bed, more ashamed of the images which had been conjured by your overactive imagination in the late-night privacy of your bedroom. You hated that everything you imagined was involved blue eyes. Distinctive curls. Pulling buttons from smart shirts and kissing along sharp cheekbones. Poor Tom. He didn’t need you overstepping that mark. And yet when you had closed your eyes, imagined you were under those lights again, all you could imagine was Tom. His creative gaze. Listening to the smoothness his voice leant to everything he said as he instructed you even more intimately than usual.
As you switched your phone back on, you forced the thoughts from your mind. They couldn’t follow you to the studio. The two of you had built something good. Something successful. The studio was doing well, you were both saving money away for the future, building your brands. You couldn’t screw that up now by imagining him like that. He trusted you. You trusted each other. Relied on one another.
You wondered if he ever fucked other actresses.
#lord forigve me for i have have rpf x reader#13atoms#fic#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston fic#tom hiddleston imagine#this is a weird one#i think 2 more chapters maybe#lmk what you think!
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kiss it better - ksj | m
been waiting on that sunshine boy, i think i need that back. can't do it like that. no one else gonna get it like that. - kiss it better, rihanna
↳ summary- your best friend Kim Seokjin makes you an offer you can’t refuse
↳ rating- explicit / 18+
↳ word count- 3.7k
↳ pairing- seokjin x reader
↳ genre- smut, comedy, fluff
↳ warnings- oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, dirty talk, daddy kink, jin making really bad jokes at bad times.
↳ a/n- well hello there! i hope you enjoy this! this fic is a collab with @kookiesjoonies all about bad hookups being saved by BTS. make sure you check out her yoongi fic HERE! i hope you enjoy this little piece! i love the visual of jin....well.... you get the idea HNNNGGG *vibrates in thot*. feel free to message me, send me an ask, comment, throw a rock at me, whatever u wanna do i wanna engage w/ UUUUU. LOVE YOU ALL! -lindy
If you had to pinpoint a moment where it all started, where everything changed, it was the night you came home after another bad hook up left you nearly crying in your shared 2 bedroom apartment.
Jin found you pouring an excessive amount of wine into a mug, on the verge of tears.
“Terrible date?” Your roommate asks as he leans against the door of the kitchen and motions with his head towards the gallon of alcohol you’re about to drink like it’s coffee.
“You can fucking say that again,” you grumble. You will not cry—you’re forcing that mantra through your brain at whiplash speeds.
“Jeez, how bad could it have been to make you wanna pound a keg of wine?” He jokes. Your eyes level with his and he can see you’re not in the mood for comedy. Another time, he supposes.
“Men,” you laugh with mirth. “You and your stupid fucking dicks and no brains and all you care about is getting off.” You’re fuming with anger, which given the situation is probably more than what is called for but you’re sure if the next hook up you manage doesn’t care to get you off, you will go absolutely wild.
“I’m still not grasping what’s wrong here,” he folds his arms over his chest and relaxes against the wood. You’re clutching the wine glass—mug—but still not drinking it.
“I haven’t gotten off!” You exclaim with enough gusto that some wine spills out. Jin rushes towards you and grabs a rag. He knows you’re lethal in the kitchen. Sticky for days.
“You haven’t gotten off? Like they don’t make you cum?” He asks as he wipes up the harsh red liquid on the counter. Your eyes watch his hands and for a second, a split second, you admire the tendons and veins moving under his skin as he cleans up your mess.
“Exactly. It’s a one and done, get out of my bed sort of thing,” you huff. “I’m not asking to be cuddled or whatever. But can’t a girl at least get some oral?”
Jin stifles a laugh and wrings the rag out in the sink. “How long has it been since someone made you cum?”
A wave of shame courses over you, but you’re not sure why. Jin’s someone you trust. It’s not like he thinks any less of you for fucking guys who don’t have a shred of decency.
“I mean, I can make myself cum every night in my room,” Jin’s ears turn a slight shade of pink at this and you’re suddenly curious. “But with a guy? Fuck, probably a year. Looks like I pick the real winners.”
He’s silent, and it makes you feel nervous. You can’t explain it—or rather you refuse to accept what you’ve been avoiding for a while. That your eyes linger on your roommate’s form as he exits the shower with a towel around his waist, the broad expanse of his bare shoulders with water still running down his back. The way he pushes his hair back when he’s tired. That you’ve had more than one night of slipping your hands down your body with the image of him in mind.
It feels wrong. It feels dirty to think of your best friend in such a way. And yet, it thrills you even more.
“I hope you don’t—... feel like I’m sleazy or something,” you murmur, buried in your newfound self-consciousness.
He smiles up at you and leans over the counter, resting his head on his hands and watches you curiously.
“I could make you cum,” he offers. It sounds like he’s offering to run errands for you, buy your lunch when you forget your wallet.
It’s so simple that you’re stunned into silence. Your brain skids to a halt to process what just escaped the mouth of your longtime best friend, roommate, confidant.
He chuckles as he watches the gears try to turn in your mind. “I’ve been told I’m great at oral. Not to brag. Just what I’ve heard.” The smirk on his lips definitely tells you he means to brag.
“You want--... to eat me out?” You ask incredulously. He’s still staring at you like it’s no big deal, just another everyday event. Best friends getting each other off. You wash the dishes, he dries, then he’s buried tongue deep in your cunt? Is that how it works?
“You seem really upset, and as your friend, if I have the tools to fix it, why would I hold back?” He postulates. You can’t help but agree with his theory. Your heart is thumping soundly in your chest. Is it just a friendly thing? Is he offering out of the goodness of his heart or is there something more? Are you willing to let your pussy win out and get the pleasure at the sake of getting your heart broken?
It doesn’t take long to decide.
Fuck yes you are.
“Okay,” you agree. “Are we going to fuck too?” You ask as you wash your hands of any remaining wine. You haven’t drunk a sip and you still feel tipsy and lightheaded.
“Do you want to fuck?” He narrows his eyes at you in playful suspicion.
It makes you blush. “I—I’d like to…” you’re suddenly shy and you can tell it thrills Jin to see you thrown off your game.
“Then let’s fuck, baby girl,” he smirks as he pushes up from the counter top he rested on moments ago.
“Your place or mine?” His joke is stupid, but it makes you laugh, anyway.
“Knowing your disgusting ass, your bed is covered in god know’s what. Mine, please.”
He tuts and walks behind you down the hallway, hand resting gently at your back.
“Is that any way to talk to your best friend? The one who’s going to eat you out until you’re crying for more?” His words send a shiver down your spine, and he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Well, fuck—when you put it that way…” you trail off.
Your bedroom has never felt more foreign to you in your life. It’s the same as it always is. Queen-size bed, photos on the wall, messy laundry in the corner spilling out of the hamper. But now you’re in it with Jin. You’re in it with Jin because he’s promised you at least one orgasm and you’re sure he will try for more, knowing his ego.
“Welcome,” you gesture nervously as you sit on the bed.
He rolls his eyes. “Stop acting weird,” he chides. “It’s me, you don’t have to be weird around me.” He’s pressing you down towards the pillows to relax.
You want to retort it’s exactly why you’re acting weird. The man you play drunk Monopoly at 3 am with is pressing into you now like he wants to eat you for hours. He’s seen you crying, held your hair back while you puked, heard or witnessed your most embarrassing moments. And now he’s about to fuck you stupid.
You allow your body to relax against all the sirens in your brain telling you this is weird, this is fucked up, you’ll regret it. The blood is rushing out of your frontal cortex and towards your lower half, making your pussy drunk on anything Seokjin can give you.
He smiles as he sees your body relax into the comforter on your bed and he places a hand on your cheek.
“See? Easy peasy.” You roll your eyes and he chuckles. You want to comment, tell him he’s a fucking idiot like you always do when he says something cheesy, but he beats you to the punch and presses his lips against yours gently.
You’ve always wondered what his lips would feel like against your own. He tastes like peppermint. Idly, you realize you’ve always associated Jin with the taste of warm, smoky vanilla, but now that you’re here with your tongue swirling around his, the peppermint makes sense. It suits him.
He kisses you tenderly. It’s not the rushed kiss of a quick hookup. It’s not the passionate kiss of long-lost lovers. It’s the sweet, compassionate kiss—the kind that wants to make you feel like nothing is wrong in the world. Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat as he cups a cheek in his embrace and rubs the delicate skin there with a thumb.
The kiss is finished too soon for your liking. He’s pulling away and smiling down at you. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t quite put your finger on but it makes you feel lit up like Christmas.
“I hear I’m an excellent kisser too,” he smirks down at you and the moment is lost. “Would you agree?”
You roll your eyes. “God, I can’t believe you,” you sigh. “You’re hopeless.”
He tugs on the hem of your shirt, indicating he means to take it off. You tense for a moment. It seems you’ve stupidly forgotten you should be naked for this act. You’re about to be naked and laid bare in front of your best friend who you’ve harbored an inkling of a crush on. He’s about to see your most vulnerable side. Could you trust him? What if he mentioned the freckle above your ass? What if he pointed out something wrong with your body? A wave of uncertainty washes over you.
Jin pulls your shirt off easily and gently. He tosses it toward your ever-growing laundry pile and turns his attention back to you. You’re still in a nice, pretty bra from the hookup and Jin’s eyes are captivated. The cocky smirk is wiped off his lips, and instead he gapes. Your breasts are encased in creamy red satin and he sits up straighter and can’t break his gaze.
“Wow,” he breathes, and it makes your cheeks heat.
“Sorry, I know it’s too much, I can just—,”
He cuts you off with a finger to your lips.
“I always knew you were pretty but, fuck—.. you’re a vision. You’re gorgeous.”
You’re heating. The way your core clenches around nothing as Jin compliments you with all sincerity and no sense of humor like he does has your blood rushing.
“Can I—,” he swallows as he attempts to steel himself. “Can I take it off?”
You nod, too shy to impart any dialogue and assist him by lifting your back slightly to allow his hands space to un-clasp the lingerie.
It falls away easily and you close your eyes as your full globes come free. You hear Jin’s breath catch and it’s silent. A few beats pass and you’re ready to end everything now, it’s too awkward, when a hand gently cups one and a thumb rubs over the nipple. It makes your spine tingle.
You crack your eyes open and see Jin staring intently at your chest, following his thumb as it drags back and forth against the hardening nipple.
“I think you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen in my life.”
You want to argue and tell him he’s just saying that to be nice, but the retort dries up in your throat as he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. He tugs on it with the suction of his mouth and licks stripes against the bud. You moan loudly. It feels like he’s praising you with his mouth.
Jin takes his time. You can tell he’s in no rush. He suckles and presses kisses to your breasts with the same attention to detail he gives his culinary creations. He massages each globe in his hands and alternates his lips back and forth between nipples. He draws sweet sighs and moans from your lips and your fingers thread through his thick hair.
After his careful ministrations, he pulls up and smiles at you.
“I’m not going to lie,” he starts. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
You feel like you’ve been slapped. Kim Seokjin, your roommate and best friend, has wanted you? As much as you have wanted him?
He can see you’re faltering for words and he shrugs.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. It doesn’t have to change anything.”
His immediate dejection spurs you into action.
“I’ve wanted it for a long time too,” you reply. “Jin, why would I agree to have sex with you if I wasn’t interested in being with you?”
He smirks a little and you know you’re in for a witty one-liner.
“You wanted to take a ride on this wild stal-Jin.”
His grin is cocky, as it usually is, and as annoying as his jokes are, it loosens a knot of nerves inside you. You had somehow convinced yourself Jin would be a completely unfamiliar person after this. It seems that wouldn’t be the case.
“Oh my god,” you groan.
His hands and mouth are roaming your chest and stomach, peppering the skin with kisses. He teases at your navel with his tongue and any irritation you felt at his terrible pun flies out the window as you feel a surge rush through your veins straight to your cunt.
He fiddles with the button and fly on your jeans, the ones that hug your curves just perfectly.
“Your ass looks good in these jeans,” he comments as he tugs them down. “Almost a shame to take them off. But I’d rather get a full uncensored view.”
You blush and lift your hips to allow him to pull your jeans off. Long legs are spread on the bed and a thong barely protects your modesty. It’s already soaked, there’s no denying it when Jin steals a glance and cocks a coy smile.
“Naughty,” he tsks jokingly. “Someone’s excited to get sucked by the Seok-master.”
“Jesus Christ, Jin,” you sigh. “I hate you.”
“I’d like you to try to say that again when I’m three fingers deep inside you with my tongue.”
His words roll over you like a trail of fire. It clenches at your throat and sizzles down to your core. You can’t help but let a moan out and arch your back.
“I thought so,” he smirks. He fingers at the straps of your thong for a moment and then trails a finger down your slit. It’s wet and warm, and he bites a lip.
“Bet you’re real pretty here too. I think about what your pussy looks like a lot.”
It’s sending you into an unfamiliar state of consciousness to hear Kim Seokjin say such illicit things about you—things you thought to be off-limits.
“Bet it looks even prettier with your face buried in there.” A sly smile spreads on your own features, and Jin looks pleased.
“That’s my fucking girl.”
He tugs the black thong down and it joins the chaos on your bedroom floor.
He’s here now. It’s real. It’s happening. His eyes are glued to your cunt, and a finger is tracing the outline of the lips there.
“No one has ever made you cum from oral?” He asks again. He’s mystified by your center and he hasn’t even seen the full thing yet.
A shuddering breath escapes you as you confirm. “No, no one ever has.”
He sucks his teeth for a moment and remains silent. His fingers slowly slide in to spread you open lewdly, displaying your clit like the grand prize behind the curtain.
“I’ll make sure you get off every single night,” he promises. “No more hooking up with assholes. All mine, okay? Just like you always should have been.”
It’s hard to breathe as you feel his fingers achingly close to your clit and you’re sure your channel is weeping with desire.
“Okay, Jinnie,” you murmur.
“It’s daddy, now, baby.”
It feels like the world stops and you whimper with need.
“Please, daddy,” you cry. “I need you.”
“I can tell, baby. Your poor little pussy hasn’t been shown the love it deserves, hm?” He asks. He still refuses to move any closer to where you need. “You need daddy, don’t you? You need someone who will worship this cunt.”
The air in your lungs is sucked out with vacuum-like force.
He lowers himself to lie between your legs, face close to your center. He spreads your legs further, almost on the verge of discomfort, and wraps his arms under your thighs and grips at the tops to keep you spread.
Suddenly, he’s pressing his face into you and a tongue darts into your channel and laves around. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling.
He’s testing the waters, per se, and getting a taste of you. He wants to know what spots drive you crazy. Are you solely a clitoral stimulation girl or do you need the feeling of something filling you tight and deep too? He hopes to learn every single aspect about your cunt before the night is over.
He watches your facial expression as he licks from your walls and up to your clit. Your face contorts in ecstasy as the tip of his tongue flicks quickly on the nub. You’re gasping with desperation, singing his praises as he suckles and rub at your button with his tongue.
You taste delicious; he notes. Earthy, but still sweet like nectar. He thinks maybe your body was tuned to be his.
He spends time there, and it drives you mad. He’s sucking and flicking and dipping his tongue inside you and you feel a sense of euphoria no man has given you. Jin’s pillowy plush lips apply just the right pressure to your clit, kiss it so sweetly you might cry as he then inserts himself to lap up your juices. He drinks as if he’s dehydrated of you, only you, and if he doesn’t get more, he’ll perish.
“Jin—.. daddy, fuck,” you correct your mistake and it makes him chuckle against you.
“Good girl,” he coos. He pulls an arm out from between your thighs and sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, a disgusting display for you that has you nearly cumming right there.
After he determines you tortured and his fingers slicked enough, he moves forward again and slides said fingers up into you. Your back arches again and Jin smirks. You’re a penetration girl just as much as you are a clit girl, and Jin knows he has you hook, line and sinker. He’s unlocked your formula and plans to see it to your very end.
“Look at you,” he murmurs adoringly as he fucks in and out of you. “So nice and wet for daddy. Getting my fingers so slick.” He groans. His cock is hardening rapidly, and he moves his hips on the bed for some stimulation. “I can’t wait to fuck this sweet little hole. I’m going to be the only one who ever makes you cum, and I will always make sure you fucking cum.” He promises.
You’re whimpering with a pleasant mixture of need and satisfaction as he thrusts his digits into you. Jin’s taking his time, which leaves you breathless, gasping for more and more. You want to be greedy and tell him to take you now, so hard and fast, but you want to make this last forever. Your pussy has never felt so alive and vibrant with desire as it does right now.
Jin returns to his post, mouth firmly attached to your clit as he picks up a pace with his fingers. He’s suckling again at your nub and you find it’s the perfect amount of pressure that has your vision darkening around the edges. An impossible tight string is winding so tightly inside you and you feel it threaten to collapse your entire body.
You allow your waning attention to focus on Jin for a moment, and you realize how he truly looks in his element. It looks as if Jin should have been the one between your thighs this whole time. You thought maybe this would feel wrong and perverse. Instead, it feels as if you two have finally slipped together and fit into the picture perfectly, instead of trying to jam into spots not meant for either of you.
It’s heady to think of him like this, your best friend who knows everything about you. It makes sense now—it was always meant to be him in your life. You’ve always wanted him to be the one who simultaneously makes you laugh and cum. He was always meant to be the one for you; it just took until now to really understand it.
Jin picks up the pace again, and it washes away your thoughts as you feel him increase the speed and pressure of his tongue in time with his fingers. His eyes are closed and he’s focused on this like it’s his destiny. Your legs quiver in anticipation as the tightness pulls more, pulls harder and your cunt tightens around his fingers.
It snaps the string inside you and your mental capacity. All you feel is bliss as your body unravels at his hand. Your channel pulses around him and he grins as he feels the clenching and hears your sweet and agonized moans. You’re incapable of any coherent thought except Jin, Jin, Jin and how deliciously sweet he has made you feel and the ecstasy he has wrought out of you.
He allows you a moment to settle down from your high and pulls his fingers from you. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit which makes you squeak at the over stimulation.
As you come back to life, panting breath slowing, he sits up on his knees and smiles at you.
“So, are all the rumors true? Am I good?” He looks smug and as much as you want to slap it off him, you can’t when he’s covered in your slick and looking incredibly sexy while doing so.
“Yeah, you’re good,” you breathe. He grins back at you and moves to lay next to you on the bed. You snuggle up beside him and throw your arm and leg over him. It feels as if you’ve been doing this for years, as if this isn’t the first time you’re being intimate with your best friend of two decades.
After your breath settles completely, he looks over at you with a smile.
“You ready for round two?” He asks.
You’re moving and straddling his hips, rubbing against the hard length in his jeans.
“You know it, daddy.”
His hands quickly move to unbutton his jeans and shove them down and off his body.
“Well,” he quips with his signature grin. “We better get down to Jin’s-ness.”
© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
#bts smut#bts jin#bts seokjin#bts fic#bts kim seokjin#seokjin smut#jin smut#worldwide handsome#bts imagine#bangtan smut#hyungsmutsociety#kwritersworldnet#btswriterscollective#btswritersnet#ksmutclub#bangtanarmynet#heartsforbts#ficswithluv
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Used to This
(Based on the song Used to This by Camila Cabello. I did say I would be writing one-shots based on all of her songs from the album Romance. Idk if this fic will make sense or it's turned into a garbled mess. 🤷🏽♀️)
***
Sam never really liked San Francisco. He has nothing against the city. It's just nothing special.
But then Bucky kissed him there. For the first time. As they sat outside Ghirardelli Square, sharing a hot fudge sundae between them.
It was like a scene from a movie where Bucky reached out to wipe the chocolate off his lips, stared at him for a couple seconds, and then leaned in to kiss him. Yes, it was cheesy, but Sam wouldn't have it any other way.
It's the strangest feeling being with Bucky. They went from enemies to friends, to whatever the hell they were now.
You see, Bucky's turned into a damn nomad. The guy doesn't stay in one city for long. Maybe if he stayed put for once, then they'd have the time to sit down and talk about what they were and where this was going.
Bucky wants Sam to go with him but despite loving the open sky and the feeling of being free, Sam really isn't about the nomad life. He'd rather put down roots in one place. But then, once in a while, he'll entertain his... boyfriend, partner (what the hell were they, again?) and go visit him. Every time in a different city.
In those times, when they are together, with every kiss, with every touch, he tries to memorize every inch of Bucky. He stores the information away for those nights when he's lying alone in bed, missing him.
"Do you think he'll stay if you asked him to?" Steve asks him one day as they're hanging out in his apartment, listening to music.
"I know he will," Sam replies truthfully. "But I don't want him to stay put because I asked him to. I want him to stay because he wants to."
And they leave that conversation at that.
They're in Seattle when Bucky says "I love you." It's another one of those cities that Sam doesn't really like. It rains too damn much.
The I Love You isn't deliberate. It's more of a heat of the moment thing. He's inside Sam. Fucking him hard and fast and as he comes, a litany of "I love yous" escapes his lips like a prayer.
They don't talk about it. Sam isn't sure what he's supposed to do with the information. Yes, he loves Bucky too. Loves him with every fiber of his being... but then what? They're on two very different pages.
"These days people make long-distance relationships work all the time," Bucky says to Sam when he meets him in D.C. "Even back in my day, soldiers could make long-distance relationships work."
"The problem isn't the distance," Sam sighs as he turns to face Bucky in the bed and runs his fingers through his long hair. Bucky's features soften immediately. "The problem is that you're moving too fast for me and I can't keep up. You know I rarely drink but---" he points towards the empty bottle of tequila on the dresser. "---I think most of that was me because every time I'm with you, I feel like I need a drink."
"Ouch," Bucky mumbles.
"I didn't mean it like that! I just need liquid courage." Sam is quick to assure him. "I feel like we're going in two different directions. We want different things from life."
Bucky stops Sam's hand in his hair and takes it into his own. "Is this you breaking up with me?"
"Were we even ever together? We never talked about what we are."
"Did we have to?" Bucky asks.
"You kissed me, then you disappeared, you slept with me, then you disappeared again, you told me you loved me, and then disappeared once again… what was I supposed to think?”
“Then why didn’t you ask?”
Sam sighs and looks down at the sheets. “Because I was scared.”
Bucky tilts his chin up and gives him an earnest look. “Scared of what, sweetheart?”
“Scared of what you were going to say…”
“I would have said that I will be yours in whatever way or capacity you want me,” replies Bucky.
“See, that doesn’t really answer my question.” Sam lets out a frustrated sound.
“Do you want me to stay?” Bucky asked instead.
Sam notices the sad look on his face. “I want you to stay but I want you to want it too.”
“I can’t stay in one place. It makes me feel claustrophobic,” Bucky tells him
“Look, I don’t mind the distance. I don’t even mind that we hardly talk when we’re not together but I just need to know what we are and where this is going… Am I just wasting my time on someone who will get bored of me like he does of the cities he’s in? Or is this long-term?”
“You really think that? You think I’ll get bored of you?” Bucky asks, his voice filled with hurt.
Sam hates being the reason for that hurt.
“When I said I love you, I really meant it. I don’t know how else to prove that I am in it for the long haul.”
“You don’t need to prove anything,” Sam assures him. “I just-- I need time to get used to this. It’s gonna take me a minute but I eventually will.”
“What do we do in the meantime?” Bucky asks scooting closer to Sam.
“In the meantime, we talk. And you don’t run away.”
“I think I can do that.” Bucky leans in to kiss him.
Yeah, their relationship isn’t perfect. Yeah, they have their set of problems. But they’ll figure it out. They’ll get used to this. Definitely.
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