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mourntheantagonist · 2 years

Note

which wip are you most excited for!? (like, excited to finish, post, and get reactions)

that is a hard question because I’m really excited for all of them! however, there’s one of them that I’m working on rn that I definitely think will have some interesting reactions as it’s not exactly something I’ve seen in this fandom yet (unless I’m mistaken, I could be).

I’ll tease an excerpt from the beginning of the fic, maybe with it being out in the open I’ll have more reason to focus on it.

fair warning, this might possibly be one of the most emo and angsty things that I’ve ever written, and that’s coming from ME

Covina, California 1994

The clock ticked loudly and the refrigerator hummed and Billy was seated at the kitchen counter with his feet perched up on the footrest of the stool, hunched over, letting all of his body weight sink to his elbows. His head was hovering over hot coffee that was just freshly brewed, sitting in that ceramic mug Steve bought him for their second Christmas in California from a gift shop in Santa Monica. He let the steam hit his face as he blew on it gently, seeing if he could get the temperature to go down any faster than it would take Steve to eventually make his appearance at their front door. The drips from the coffee machine were in perfect time with the clock’s second hand.

Tick… tick… tick…

Drip… drip… drip…

He left the lights off, save for the one above the kitchen sink that they always left on. It was the only other light source apart from the dim porch light out front that barely shone in through their window and translucent curtains. Billy held the mug in his hands, feeling the heat on his palms as he tapped his fingernails against the glass in a percussive rhythm, out of time with the other sounds. The heat reminded him about why he was waiting up in the dark kitchen at two in the morning, staring at the closed door at the front of the open space. He ignored his need for sleep and focused on his need for the answer he already knew as to why for the last week and a half Steve hadn’t always been in that bed of theirs to keep him warm through the cold of late winter.

He knew it from the first time Steve had stayed late past midnight for work. He knew Steve was lying right through his teeth when he called him on the phone that first night, where Billy was still awake waiting for him to show up so he could tell him goodnight before falling asleep, and have the knowledge that he would be there when he woke up. He knew the voice on the other end of that line was not his Steve, because his Steve would never choose work first. His Steve had ached just as much as he had for those short few moments in bed together before and after sleep when they’d talk about the meaningless things like they were front page news. His Steve wasn’t there anymore, that voice on the phone didn’t belong to the man he fell in love with all those years ago. This was someone else, and Billy wasn’t really sure exactly when his Steve disappeared.

He just said “okay” and “goodnight” and crawled into bed. Ignoring what he already knew and pretending that it wasn’t true. He just turned off those thoughts long enough to get some rest, leaving him to dwell and worry while he was awake.

The first crack in the glass.

It was two in the morning and he was awake, and he was done dwelling in silence over cold sheets and late night phone call excuses to the apartment. He just sat there, waiting for his coffee to become drinkable so he wouldn’t have anything to toss into Steve’s face when he tried to deny it.

It wasn’t until nearly three in the morning when he finally caught a glimpse of a shadow outside their window, much more than a tree branch blowing in the wind. He saw Steve, even through the curtains he knew it was him, and he couldn’t help but feel the ache grow in his chest as he knew that these might be their last few moments together.

Steve walked through the door with his tie in his hands and his collar messed up with buttons undone midway through his shirt like he had gotten dressed in a hurry. Billy wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting to see, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. He at least hoped Steve would have had the decency to not be so blatantly obvious. There was no point in making any attempt of denial after seeing that. Steve with his hair all disheveled, walking through the door as if not to be seen, unaware of the man watching him from the kitchen, and unaware that he’d be the one going to sleep in an empty bed this time.

Billy was completely still, afraid to move, his entire plan he had concocted in the hour that he sat there completely vanished from his mind the second he had to come face to face with reality. He was left without a script or blueprint, just his own anger and sadness as tools to continue to press on. There was a lightswitch conveniently located on the wall right beside him that turned on the light by the front door. Billy switched it on like casting a spotlight on Steve, who just froze in place.

“What are you still doing awake?” Steve asked, as to divert the attention away from himself.

Billy just looked at him, his next words stuck on the tip of his tongue as he tried to maintain his composure. He just stared at all of those little details and pieces of evidence that hands that weren’t his own had created. He was sick to his stomach and felt the tears at the corners of his eyes threatening to escape because it was all true.

“Don’t play dumb Steve.” Billy said, unable to look Steve in the eyes, just entranced by the way Steve didn’t bother to feed his belt through the loops. Billy gripped the mug in his hands tightly, just waiting for his strength to overtake the ceramic and shatter in his grip and make his own palms bleed, so maybe he could feel something aside from the numb feeling in his entire body and the bile building up in his esophagus. “Why did you do it?”

Steve just remained frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he didn’t breathe, and he clearly couldn’t handle the way that Billy couldn’t even look him in the eyes. Even if he could do any of those things, he still couldn’t answer Billy’s question. The apartment was silent, and Steve looked like he had no idea what to do or say, mouth agape, no sounds coming out of it. He just stood there and watched as everything came crumbling down right in front of him.

After waiting for too long for an answer he knew would never come, Billy got up from his stool and picked up the duffel he had stored out of Steve’s view. He walked around their counter and made it halfway to the front door before he paused at the sound of Steve’s voice.

“Billy-” he said. Nothing more, just the calling out of his own name as a plea for him to stop. No apology or explanation or anything for Billy to grab onto, just his own name in that pathetic pleading tone of his.

“No.” Billy said, answering the question that Steve couldn’t even bring himself to ask. Steve hid cowardly behind his own silence, couldn’t even say the truth that they both already knew. Billy readjusted his grip on the bag's handle, looking down at it and not at Steve. “I’m leaving.”

Billy started walking again, making it all the way to the door when Steve grabbed ahold of the fabric of his jacket. Steve’s touch burned him like an open flame. He just jerked away from him to make him let go, ignoring the quiet sobs that were coming out of him, fighting that instinct urge of his to console him. If Steve wasn’t going to talk, then Billy had no reason to wait around to listen to silence and guilty cries.

He just walked out of the door, heading directly for the Camaro parked out front, leaving the door wide open so Steve had to watch him drive away, and know that this was all his fucking fault.

Because he was the one who cheated. He threw it all away. He started the fire, and he wasn’t going to get out of watching it all burn down.

also, just thought I’d add in, this is also a songfic in a way, but I’ll refrain from telling you exactly what song it is. gotta maintain some sort of surprise.

#thanks for the ask!!#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mandi writes tresh #ask

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obikinetic · 1 year

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Tag Game to Better Know You

Tagged by @shywhitemoose!

This is the first time I’ve done one of these, haha. I’ll add a cut so I don’t clog up the feed, it got a little long 😬

What book are you currently reading?

I shamefully have not read a physical book in a hooooot minute. I HAVE, however, read over 2 million words of fanfic since New Years 🥴 I’m in a hellish tomarrymort phase rn. It demands attention. But the last actual book I read was a side-by-side comparative read of Twilight and Midnight Sun, which is such a funny experience if you’re there for simple pleasures. Edward is the most dramatic immortal teen I’ve ever seen in my life.

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year?

The only movie I actually saw in theaters this year was M3GAN, which was actually very good and fun imo!

What do you usually wear?

I spend the vast majority of my time in my house, so sweatpants and sweatshirts/old t-shirts are my usual attire. If I go out, I’m a jeans/t-shirt or sweater/simple jewelry/makeup kind of gal. My mom has a tendency to dress up a bit when we go somewhere, and I’ve had this behavior imprinted upon me as a result. I have to at least look clean and put together, although I don’t like doing too much.

How tall are you?

I’m 5’4”!

What is your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

I’m a Virgo! I share my birthday with P!nk, Martin Freeman, and Bernie Sanders.

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

I don’t have a nickname lol, I just go by my given name.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

I honestly had no idea what I wanted to be when I was little. I had a very hazy idea of something medical, but that never went anywhere. I’m too soft for that and couldn’t stand going to school for that long! I ended up going to college for computer science and getting a job in tech, which was a completely random decision I made the last few months of my senior year in hs. Worked out pretty well though!

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

No relationship, no crush…I reiterate, I do not leave my house 😭 My parents are begging me to get out and try to meet someone, but the odds of me finding someone I like in my area are extremely slim and the process is unpleasant at best. One thing about me though is that whenever I start to develop a crush, I create a timeline on my notes app and document every interaction and unhinged thought I have so that I can laugh about it afterwards. I highly recommend it because it’s absolutely hilarious.

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

Hmm…I’m alright with artistic things depending on what they are, organizing things, and anything involving following directions. I’m bad at being in large social situations, talking seriously about my feelings, and being assertive.

Dogs or cats?

I like both, but I prefer to be around calmer animals. Most cats are calm, so I like them more consistently than dogs! I just don’t like when dogs are super hyper and loud and pushy, it stresses me out a little bit hehe. I own a very anxious and mercurial cat who I love with all my heart 🥰

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year?

Ahhhhhh idk…I’ve got a lot of projects that are either almost finished or just sketches, so I feel like I don’t have much to post!! I did this picture of Jimin from BTS when he released his solo album FACE though, and I like how it turned out :)

What’s something you’d like to create content for?

Well. Since I’m in that mess of a tomarrymort phase, I’ve sketched a bunch of stuff from the various fics I’ve read that I would like to clean up and post at some point. I’d also like to delve back into Homestuck and maybe Percy Jackson too - those were middle school favorites of mine and my old notebooks are littered with little doodles. I actually recently decided to make a tumblr for posting all kinds of random fanart besides SW so that I could do that in the future! I haven’t made any posts yet, but if anyone’s interesting in following, I’m @delineate-creates!

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Already mentioned it twice already lmaooooooooo 🫠 Tom Riddle’s evil ass. You wanna know how many random dreams I had with Voldemort in them? Not even just Tom, but Voldemort??? Twelve. And that’s only the ones I could clearly remember. I’ve lost at least that many upon waking. It’s so bad y’all I hate myself.

What’s something exciting you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

I don’t wanna say disappointing because I liked the show for the most part, but I was sad that there was no mention of Cas at all in the Supernatural prequel The Winchesters…like they literally had his adoptive-son-new-God show up, but I can’t even get a name drop??? Please 😭 Dean’s reappearance healed my finale-related trauma though, so I can’t complain much.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

It’s not necessarily a talent because I had to force myself through years of toil and practice to gain my skills, but I’m actually surprisingly good at softball..? Like considering my personality and disdain for physical activities, you just wouldn’t consider me to be a sports person. Which I’m not really. But even more than that, I’m not a quitter! So after my parents sank some money into equipment and made a few comments about the lessons sports would teach me, I proceeded to grit my teeth and grind through twelve years of travel tournaments and conditioning. And my hs team won states and got runner up twice, so I think I did alright. Glad it’s over now though, I was not built for that stuff.

Are you religious?

Alright now…don’t judge me too bad for this y’all…I’m a pretty devout Christian. You probably wouldn’t think that from my posts, but this is really the only place I let myself act like a normal 20-something person and let loose a little. Irl I don’t go out much, am pretty reserved, attend church every week, have only verbally cursed once in my whole life on accident, and have never had an alcoholic drink. I even teach my church’s elementary Sunday school class. But I absolutely do NOT agree with the alt-right kind of Christianity, and I’m doing my best to teach my kids to be loving and accepting people that we can all be proud of instead of bigoted and small-minded. Please know that I won’t ever ever try to push my religion on any of y’all, especially since so many have been hurt by those that weaponize it. I am so, so sorry they made you feel that way and it sickens me. As naive and lukewarm as this sounds, I really do just want everyone to be happy and feel loved :(

Well. I sure know how to bring the mood down, lmao. Anyway, if anyone read all of that, thanks for listening! I don’t think I’m gonna tag anyone because I could never make a decision, but if you’d like to post as well, then please tag me so I can get to know you!!!

#tag game #I def did too much for this

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openforjean · 3 years

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dare | move on

| previous chapter | next chapter | dare masterlist | masterlist

pairings: stepbrother!jean kirstein x stepsister!reader, eren yeager x fem!reader, armin arlert x fem!reader

warnings: +18, language, sexual innuendo, a bit of tension, some st*pcest, begging, crying kink, mentions of sex, maybe some yandare!eren, please don’t read if anything makes you uncomfortable!

a/n: this is @arminarlertsslut new acc! i moved to this blog sorry if its confusing, its better if you follow this one

“He calls me his,” you respond. Jean’s heart breaks.

“Promise me, you’ll stay away from him. He’s no good, he’ll end up hurting you. Please, Y/n,” Jean pleads. Your face falls.

Maybe, he actually does care. But he is right, Eren’s reputation is known as a fuckboy, so you already know. But, it’s fun messing with Jean. He seems to care a little too much though, he always gets like this when it comes to me and boys.

What an asshole.

“Okay, Jean. No more Eren,” you say.

Jean nods.

Y/n has no idea who she’s messing with. Eren Yeager, every girl's “dream”. He is the last person who deserves to be with you. Even to be around you. His step sister.

“Jean?”

Jean snaps back to reality from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for calling you a dick,” you apologize with your head hanging low. “No, I deserve it. Sorry, if I crossed a line. I just don’t want to see you hurt, especially hurt by him,” Jean says with a hint of sadness in his eyes. He takes your hands in his. “Alright, Jean. I’ll stop seeing him,” you say.

You begin to feel bad now. All Jean wants is to keep you safe.

Jean exits your room, leaving you. You shake the moment off and return to your presentation. Thoughts fill your head.

Why does he hate Eren so much? Should I tell Historia what happened? What do I do when Eren contacts me? What should I say to him?

Your phone buzzes, you look at the lit up screen and see a text. From Eren.

eren: hey, same spot tonight, i got something for you.

Fuck.

Why now? Jean is in a pissy mood and you feel bad for taunting him. And you have a presentation to finish. It's not a good time.

You: i can’t tonight, i have some work to do, sorry eren

eren: i’ll drop it off, don't worry it won't take long

You: can it wait? Jean is mad rn and if he sees you, he’ll lose it

eren: dw i'll sneak in through your window again, just leave it open

You groan. Eren does not give up.

Your stomach begins to feel like it has a knot in it. You don’t want Eren to get caught by Jean. He’ll kill Eren and you.

When he comes, you’ll cut it off. And move on. Whatever he gives you, trash it or burn it. No one can know about you and Eren.

Why can’t no one know? The last thing you want is for Jean to hate you. To have him hate you, is worse than anything. That's why no one can know Eren took your virginity, and was your first kiss. No one.

You hear a tap, your eyes snap to the window, and you see Eren. You unlock the window and you help him in. “Hey babe, got ya this,” Eren says, holding out a small pink bag. You look up at him. His hair is up in a bun, his clothes tight to his body, and his rings shine. He’s so pretty.

Remember, cut it off.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the bag. Eren sits on your bed, watching you open it. You begin to feel warm. You look at him as he watches you, he’s smiling.

You open the bag, taking out a small box. You open the small box, and your mouth falls open. You look up at him again, “how do you know about this?”. Eren lets out a small chuckle. “I know my girl,” he responds. Your eyes trail along the gold chain, down to the golden moon hanging off the chain.

You mentioned this necklace awhile back, how the hell did he remember?

“Do you like it?” Eren asks, laying back on your bed. You look at him, holding the necklace still. You part your lips to speak but no words come out. You’re getting that feeling again. Butterflies. “Eren...Why?” You ask. He’s taken back by your words. “What do you mean? I can’t get you anything?” He says.

“You can but...this is crossing over to girlfriend territory. And I’m not your girlfriend, so why?” You say. Damn, where did this confidence come from?

Eren gulps and stands up from your bed. He takes your hands in his and kisses them. “...I don’t know... why,” Eren says. Your eyes widen, you pull your hands away from his. There is a bit of hurt in his eyes.

You’re about to cut it off.

“Eren, I can’t be doing this anymore. I have feelings for someone else and I want to start seeing them. I’m sorry, I appreciate everything but I can’t take this.”

You can’t tell if Eren is heartbroken. To be fair, you couldn't tell before, if he likes you for you or for your body

Eren’s hands fall and his eyes trail to the ground. “Who is it?” He asks. “I can’t tell you that. But now this means no more “meetups”, no more pet names, and little gifts, okay? You can be my friend but nothing more,” you say.

Eren nods, putting his hands in his pockets. He looks at you. “I think I have a pretty good idea who it is now,” he says. Eren goes back to the window. “See you around, Kirstein,” he teases. He exits through the window, leaving you in awe.

Does he really know or? And what the hell, Kirstein? Fuck. At least you got that over with, That was so scary, why was he so calm?

You look over at your presentation, you sigh. You can finish it tomorrow, you need some time to sleep. You save your presentation, and shut your laptop off, and cut the lights.

You crash on your bed.

So no Eren. Wonder what he’ll do now... maybe screw some other girls like he always did. How is Armin his best friend? Eren is a total dick, and Armin is the sweetest soul on Earth. Maybe he knows the real Eren.

For a second, you thought you knew the real Eren. But whatever, Eren can go fuck himself. All he ever wanted to do was fuck. He’ll be okay. He’ll find another girl.

Tomorrow, you can talk to Armin without feeling guilty. But you have to be careful, Eren might pick up on it and say something.

Did you do the right thing?

You did get shit sorted, though. No more Eren. No more feeling guilty about it around Jean, and you can move on.

teaser for part 3-

What the hell just happened. Did she just dump me? Well, not dump but end it? Holy shit, princess. You have bigger balls than I anticipated. Don’t worry, I’ll leave you alone.

As Eren walked home, his mind went through all of the memories he has with you. More specifically, the one where you’re naked.

“Please fuck me, Eren. I want your cock so bad, it’s driving me insane!” You plead to him. He only remembers looking at you. You looked so good in that small skirt and pretty lacy bra. With your watery eyes and clenching thighs. That image will never leave his mind. He fucked your tight pussy so good that night. Making you scream out his name while clawing his back.

Your heart may not be his, but that pussy is. He isn’t going to stop.

#tw stepcest #stepcest cw #eren yeager x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren jeager x you #eren jeager smut #eren yeager smut #eren smut #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader

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satoruvt · 3 years

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know i’ll keep it forever

pairing → kim mingyu x reader

word count → 770

genre → fluff. just complete fluff ↳ tags: established relationship, Self Indulgent (tm), mingyu is annoying and my favorite person, cold medicine </3, mingyu being a housewife really, mentions of soup., mc is sick and mingyu is Done, crying i wish this was me rn, a single kiss, cute teasing and banter i think, anniversary shenanigans sick ver

song inspo → emerald by rini <3

warnings → none i think!!!

a/n → guys. this is actually the most self indulgent work ive ever written because its my 1 year with svt and im SICK. anyways i figured i cant do a fic for every member LOL so i decided to do mingyu because he was my very first bias in svt!!!! 1 year is a long time for me hehe so i hope this feels as special to you as it does to me... thank you for reading on such a special day <3

It takes more effort than you thought it would to swallow down the medicine (cherry flavored cold medicine because it was all the store had in stock), and you let out a weak cough when you finish, shivering at what little you could taste of it. Mingyu sighs, taking the the little plastic cup from your hand.

“Stop being dramatic,” he tells you, and you gawk at him like he’s insane.

“Dramatic?” You repeat, motioning to your sick self covered in blankets and surrounded by tissues. “I’m dying!”

Mingyu rolls his eyes but both of you are smiling. In all honesty, this isn’t the worst cold you’ve ever had - more annoying than anything else. You take a generous sip of the water Mingyu’s offered you, hoping it’ll wash away the lingering taste of alcohol and fake cherry. “I can’t believe you got sick on our anniversary,” he says as you swallow. It’s not teasing like before, more like disappointed awe. Neither of you expected your own health to get in the way of things.

You place the glass back on the bedside table, your hand moving to rest on the side of Mingyu’s face. He leans into it. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, feeling guilty. “I know you had a lot planned.”

He shakes his head, hand resting on top of yours. “It’s not your fault. Maybe we needed a night in, anyways. A sign from the gods.”

You giggle but it dissolves into a few coughs, and Mingyu looks at you with puppy dog eyes that make you want to get better immediately. But even at your most resilient, it takes a few days to get back to full health, and you know you’ll be bedridden for a while.

“You’re gonna catch whatever I have if you stay here any longer,” you tell him, moving your hand away from him. Your fever gives you cold chills and all you want is to cuddle up next to him (he’s basically a human heater anyways) but you hold yourself back, not wanting him to share your pain. “You should stay at the dorms tonight.”

“What happened to dying?”

“I’ll die alone if it means you’re safe.”

Mingyu pushes your shoulder with so little force you barely move at all, but you groan out loud like you were punched with all of his weight behind it. “I’m sick and dying,” you wail, writing under your blankets, “and this is what you do to me.”

“Sorry, baby,” Mingyu says, adjusting himself so he stops your wriggling. “Want me to kiss it better?”

You already know where he’s going with this. “Kim Mingyu,” you warn, watching his face come closer. “You will not.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He asks, grinning ear to ear. He only gets closer, blankets ruffling under the shift of his weight towards you. “You’re too weak.”

“If you get sick, I’m gonna have to take care of you,” you tell him like it’s a threat. You don’t try to stop him, still. “You’re more dramatic than me, and I’m gonna have to baby you for a week.”

Mingyu shrugs, not bothering to hide his amusement. “I’ll look forward to it.”

And then he kisses you square on the lips, kind and sweet just as usual. He’s warm and your sick brain convinces you that he’s already crossed the line, there’s no use in holding back now, so you melt into him and kiss him back, hoping the medicine taste still doesn’t linger on your lips.

It’s a quick kiss, ending soon after it starts. You flick Mingyu on the forehead and he immediately recoils, whining. “You are unbelievable.”

“Think of it as an anniversary present,” he says, cheeky. You wouldn’t be able to hide the grin on your face even if you wanted to. “It goes along well with the soup I’m about to cook for you.”

“Really,” you hum, watching him clean up a few cough drop wrappers and rogue tissues. You’ve always been aware of it, but you really are lucky.

(Sometimes you think it’s not luck, but fate.)

“Hey,” you call right before Mingyu leaves the bedroom. He turns around to look at you, cute and confused pout on his lips. “You know I love you, right?”

You swear he shines brighter than the sun whenever you tell him. “I know,” he affirms, like he still can’t believe it (like he’s the one who needs to be in disbelief). “I love you too.”

Sleep catches you in a haze of what you can smell of Mingyu’s cologne mixed with the sound of him already starting to sniffle.

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kpopscape #ficscafe #sick on my very own svt day that is so wrong </3 #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen mingyu x reader #seventeen mingyu imagine #svt mingyu x reader #svt mingyu imagine #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagine #kpop x reader #kpop imagine #x reader #reader insert

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yeojaa · 3 years

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feed me, fight me.

pairing. boxer!jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. relationship issues, baby angst, comfort, unprotected sex (please be responsible!). wc. 3.5k. beta reader. @hobi-gif, always. 💖 author note. i’m really into comfort fics rn so...

What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend? (Aside from trouble, that is.)

The answer is you - throwing punches far harder than you should be, completely disregarding the fact that you’re meant to be playing the part of perfect partner, meeting pads in the sequence he’s laid out. It’s you throwing a hook when you should be swinging an uppercut. It’s you, snapping your leg out with a satisfying thunk! of your shin when you should only be thip kicking. It’s you, not giving a single damn as you take out all your frustrations on someone who’s growing increasingly more irritated by your childishness. It’s you, blatantly disrespecting him in his ring - sending a reminder that there’s more to life than the four corners of this space.

How can he blame you though, when he’s the reason? When you’ve voiced your annoyance more than once - more than twice, more times than you care to count - and each time it’s met with a half-hearted apology (if you could even call it that)? How can he hold it against you when you’ve asked, demanded, pleaded for more?

“Cut it out,” he seethes, quiet, under his breath, irritation igniting his expression, something hot and angry burning in the dark of his stare. A withering wildfire in an empty field, smoldering coals flickering bright. It presents itself in how his mouth curls, the hard line of his jaw as bone threatens to snap in half from the tension.

“Cut what out?” Your retort is punctuated by the smack of leather on leather, the worn edge of your boxing glove meeting the pad that Jungkook raises just in time to avoid a black eye.

“What’s your problem?” How he manages to snipe back - somehow sounding disgruntled by your behaviour - you’re not sure. All you know is it boils your blood, searing heat within your veins when he effortlessly blocks your next jab. He knows you well and knows the sport better, predicting each movement as if you’re telegraphing it all with a giant neon sign on your forehead.

(You probably are. You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, pinning your heart on your sleeve, your sadness heavy in your mouth. They wear you, rather than you it. A weakness of yours.)

“You’re my problem.”

“Shut up.” It’s not the usual exasperated annoyance he levels you with, meaner and paired with a swat of your gloved hand. He’s not supposed to be countering you, instead only blocking the punches you throw his way.

(But then again - when did he ever listen to you? When did he ever do what he was supposed to?)

(It’s not a fair assertion. You’re just mad. Livid beyond belief, standing atop this hill that you’ll happily die on.)

“Fuck you,” you snap, offering the petulant comeback in the same instance you surge forward. He blocks your jab - sees it coming from a mile away - and goes to block your hook.

Except it never comes, your knee straightening out instead, hard edge of your shin slamming right into the side of his leg.

He crumples more out of surprise than anything, eyes wide, all the anger swept away by something closer to astonishment. It shines impossibly bright in his eyes, turning his entire expression upside down when his knee hits the ground. By how he falls, you’re sure you’ve hit just the right spot, left his nerve endings buzzing uncomfortably as the feeling leaves the limb.

“Are you serious?” You know he’s genuinely baffled then, voice slipping, cracking in a way you’d normally find adorable. (It goes to show how upset you are, the awkward split of his words doing nothing to soothe your temper.) “What’s your issue?” He’s still seated on the floor, rocking back on his heels, brow knit in consternation. It’d take him seconds to jump up - to put you on your ass - but he chooses to remain where he is, staring up at you with that look on his face.

(That look you love. That you hate. That makes your insides turn to goo on his best days and misery on your worst. That you’ve seen every single day for the last three years, as the first thing upon waking up and the last thing before passing out. That makes you hesitate now, peering down into it.)

(Were you being unnecessary? Unbearable? Was this on you?)

“I’m going home.” It’d be nice to tear your gloves off, throw them in his face and storm off in a huff. It’d cause the scene you’re hoping for, push him to where you need. (Because that’s the thing about Jungkook - he doesn’t react otherwise and you’re sick of it.) Instead, you turn on your heel and slink away, silent as a mouse.

You’re tired. Too tired. Why had you started something you couldn’t finish?

It shouldn’t surprise you that you’re home alone for hours that night, curled up in bed and half-asleep when light from the hallway spills into your bedroom. It comes with hardly any noise, a tell-tale sign he’s trying not to wake you (or disturb you or get caught). You almost let it slide when his figure appears in the doorway, broad frame swallowed up by the oversized sweater he wears.

He’s moving near silently, having already deposited his gym bag in the laundry room. He doesn’t even switch the light on, moving around in the muted glow of the hallway, fumbling as he strips his clothes off and tosses them into the hamper against the wall.

You expect him to head directly into the en suite, wash away whatever grime he’s accumulated throughout the day. He’s always been this way, far too concerned with dragging in odour and dirt into your bed to do otherwise.

Except tonight, he doesn’t follow his usual routine. Tonight, he makes a detour.

The bed dips before you realise what’s happening, grip on the pillow under your head tightening. Words fit between your teeth, ready to spill out, lash out, tear out like a bullet deadset on landing a bullseye.

“I’m sorry.” Two words you’ve been waiting to hear, that startle you enough to throw your anger out the window, tossing them out with the wash. “I don’t know why you’re upset but I’m sorry for whatever it is.” He’s speaking into the quiet of your bedroom. You can feel his hand settled on the bed, wrist somewhere over the line of your spine.

Oh - he thinks you’re asleep.

“Things have been crazy. I’ve been stressed.” Here, under cover of night, he’s vulnerable, explanation tumbling forth uncertainly. You can hear it in the way the words form, syllables slipping into each other - a sure sign of his exhaustion. “I know that’s not an excuse, so I’ll be better.” Though he readjusts, weight distributing differently over the bed, he isn’t touching you. You can only imagine how he looks, the posture he’s taken on, arms leant over knees, hands twisting together in that way of his that begs a silent help me. A version of him you’ve seen only a handful of times.

(Jeon Jungkook does not let things get to him. Never has, likely never will. He’s immaculately put together, strung tight by years of growing up too fast, wanting too much and fearing it’ll slip away. He goes and goes until he can’t any more and only then does he still, crashing headlong over a cliff of his own creation.)

It’s then that you realise while you’ve grown irritated with his preoccupation, coming second to the man you’ve only ever put first, he’s been suffering right alongside you. Differently, certainly, but suffering nonetheless. Holding his cards close as he’s always done, shouldering all the things on his own and hoping for the best.

Irritation flares first. Anger at the fact that he hadn’t confided in you. It burns bright, erodes everything else in its path.

And then it dims almost immediately, overshadowed by a tenderness that blooms in the small of your chest. Rosebuds that fill the cavity and swath affection in broad strokes, colouring everything purple - a pretty mosaic made up of equal parts love and sadness.

“You should’ve said something.”

Bambi-eyed baby is your nickname for your boyfriend - one he reluctantly wears, scowls at when you use it in public - and yet you’re still blown away by the glossiness of his stare, how wide it goes when you roll to face him, simultaneously flicking your bedside light on. There’s embarrassment crowding his expression, lighting up every handsome facet of his features in technicolour. He works to hide it almost immediately, moves back on the bed as if he might find himself a home in the shadows.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he mumbles, not quite looking at you, stare focused on your pillow case, the white linen that you’d bought when you’d moved in together. “Did I wake you up?”

Though his concern is real, you know it’s a distraction too. His way of deflecting, shifting the focus back to you.

(Jeon Jungkook doesn’t live in the spotlight. Hates it, in fact. It’s a curious combination - wanting to be praised, to show off, and yet fearing failure so strongly. A worrying mix when he’s down and an endearing one when he’s up.)

You’re still cocooned, still held far enough away that he hasn’t run for the hills, locking himself in the bathroom to put a further physical barrier between you. Should you move too fast, you know he’ll spook. Push too hard, he’ll leave.

“Couldn’t sleep without you.” It’s true enough. Dreams had evaded you for the better part of the evening, held somewhere by hands inked like his, blemished by scars and calluses like his. They’d been kept in his coat pocket, tucked behind his ear. (So maybe it’d been anger, too, that’d kept you up. That doesn’t matter now.)

The disbelief is evident, both in his words and the quirk of his mouth, bathed in dim light. “Really?”

(You sometimes wonder how different the two of you see things. What a day looks like from his point of view - whether he reads all of your interactions in the same way. You’ve always been terribly incompatible in that way, opposites in so many respects that it’d frankly baffled your friends when you’d started dating.

You were intent - sometimes too intent - on resolving problems, never letting up. Forcing conversations you felt you needed to have, demanding answers even before there was one. He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with conflict, choosing to ignore the things that bothered him until they went away. It’d driven you absolutely insane at first, made you worry that it was you that was the issue, simply being too much.

But over time - three long years, to be exact - you’d found a common ground. Or so you’d thought.)

“Why are you so surprised?”

“You were pissed earlier.” There’s a lightness to his tone, careful consideration poured into each word he offers, as if he’s navigating a minefield. You’ve had these kinds of disagreements too many times for him to believe otherwise, as if his caution is a part of him, stitched lovingly - forcefully - by your hand. “Thought you wouldn’t wait up for me.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you retort before you can help it, still just a little childish, a little hurt. “But you know I hate going to bed angry.” Of course he knows. He’s lost hours of sleep due to your insistence that everything be talked out.

He hums a noncommittal sound - more of a grunt - and you know your window is closing. Now that you’re not out for blood, he’s retreating as he always does. Readying himself to rise from the bed, close this half-read chapter and move onto the next.

You beat him before he can, curling your fingers around his wrist, over the dangling silver chain. (His birthday gift this year, heavy metal that’s cold under your touch.)

“Don’t.”

One blink. Another. Slow and confused - deliberately so. Then he’s looking away, staring down at the ground as if you haven’t just read his next move. The ring might be his domain but home is yours; it’s the one place you hold the upper hand. “What?”

“Don’t leave.” It’s easy to read the meaning in between your words, the unspoken request that might as well be brilliant red ink. It’s far kinder than your usual demands, more pleading than begrudging, more need than want.

“I need to shower.”

It’s not a no - which you suppose is a win.

“Just wait.” Your request comes with an adjustment, whole tired frame rising from the bed only to sink back down - this time against your partner, your other half, your infuriating love. He accepts you readily, dropping his ink-strewn hand over your covered thigh. The weight is comforting over the warmth of the duvet, grounding you in the quiet of your home.

“I’m gross,” he complains, though he doesn’t make to move away. Stays right by your side when you drop your head against his bare shoulder. “Now you’re gross.”

“We can be gross together.” Because you’re not ready for him to leave you, to close the door as he so often does. (And, for once, you’re not quite as angry, not seeking an argument that’ll give you the resolution you hope for. You want communication, open and honest. You want him, vulnerable and soft.)

A little sigh comes, a puff of breath that expands his doughy cheeks and sends wayward strands fluttering. It’s less resigned and more endeared - you know how much it means when his acquiesces like this.

Maybe he wants those same things, you think.

“Do you wanna shower?” You ask in perfect tandem, words folding together. You nod in the same way.

Encased in the small space - it’s different. He’s preoccupied, back turned to you, shielding you from the slow-heating stream. It’s as if his mind is a thousand lightyears away, trapped somewhere with the stars as the water rains down around the two of you, fogging the glass and wetting his hair.

“Babe?”

There’s a delay before he reacts, peering over his shoulder at you, a faraway look in his eyes. You wonder what he’d been thinking of, whether he’s still on the same page as you or if he’s skipped ahead as he tends to do. When he speaks, you have your answer, his words flicking through paper to bring you two where you need to be.

“Can you wash my hair?” An indulgent treat he rarely requests, one he seldom allows. He’s far too on the go, jumping from this to that to spend much time like this with you.

It’s a sign if there ever was one.

You reach for your shampoo bottle wordlessly, popping the cap and depositing sweet peach-scented liquid into your hands. They fold into his strands carefully, tips of your fingers pressing into his scalp, delightful bubbles accumulating between your digits. He doesn’t make a sound but you feel the way he relaxes, practically melting into your touch as you work the cleanser through his roots, careful to keep the suds from descending into his eyes.

When was the last time you’d done this? Weeks ago? Months, maybe? You honestly can’t recall. (Not that it matters now. You’ve found yourselves back here, terribly tender and intimate in the dead of night. Almost as if no time has passed at all.)

Silence stretches between the two of you. You don’t even need to instruct him to rinse, running seamlessly through the routine without hesitation.

Conditioner replaces shampoo, deft fingers combing through the few knots in his feather soft strands. Though there are hardly any, you know he loves when you take extra care, treating him in ways he’d never ask for otherwise. He savours these quiet moments of almost-solitude, spoiled rotten by your familiar touch and comforting affection.

You’d give it every single day if you could. Had, in fact.

That’s what’d brought you here, after all.

“‘m sorry,” he says - mumbles really - surprising you as you’re working your fingers into the nape of his neck, concentrating on the tension that’s carved out a home beneath muscle and sinew, turned bone iron-clad.

“For what?”

Any other time, it might’ve come across demanding, needing an answer that would soothe whatever inadequacy he’d somehow strung your heart up with. Now, it’s genuine, asked more for him than you.

You want to be let in. Need it.

“Being out of it, I guess.” It’s a lot for him - admitting this. “I’ve just been busy and I guess I kind of just—“ The imposing line of his shoulders rise and fall, a mountain range disturbed by the uncertainty in his voice.

“Forgot about me?” You don’t mean it meanly. It’s a simple statement of fact, one the both of you have to face.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

You deliberate accepting the apology and moving on, sweeping it under the rug because he’s already come so much further than you’d thought he would. But that’s not the kind of person you are, so you press just a little more, stand just a little taller.

“I don’t think I ask for the world, Kook.” Maybe more than some people. Maybe less than others. “If I’m being too much, I’d rather you let me know than shut me out.”

A sigh comes, so heavy you wonder whether he might be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“No, I know.”

“Do you?”

(At some point you’d stopped massaging the conditioner in, opting to crowd your hands over his back, working into the knots that run beneath his skin. He hadn’t been lying - he’s stiff as a board, entire broad form twitching any time you press the pads of your thumbs into a particularly sensitive spot.)

“I thought I’d figure it out myself,” he reasons, in that oh-so impossible Jeon Jungkook way of his. “Didn't realise it was taking a toll on you.”

“On us,” you correct, not at all tactful.

“On us,” he agrees with another sigh, smaller this time, tinged blue with something that feels like guilt and fills up the glass space.

“We’re a team, you know.”

(You know he knows. You just have to remind him sometimes, anchor him with the knowledge that it’s not him against the world. That you’re in his corner - always.)

“I know.”

When he turns to look at you - doesn’t even flinch when the sudden movement has you wobbling on your feet, catches you when you stumble - you don’t doubt that. He loves you just as much as you love him, sees the whole world in the small of your stare.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, two hands coming to cradle your face, palms warm over each cheek. “Just give me some time.” For what, you’re not sure. You don’t mind waiting to find out though - willing to weather the storm just to see him happy.

Jungkook holds you close, threads his fingers through yours and peppers love into the silk of your hair. Dresses your skin in the heat of his affection and sears his signature into the velvet of your skin, teeth dragging, tongue gliding.

“Is this better?” He means how he holds you, how he treats you like porcelain as he fucks you slow and tender, keeps one leg hooked back over his own.

It’s not that this is the kind of lovemaking you prefer but rather the one you need, with him consuming you wholly, sweetly, filling you with each fluid roll of his hips and nothing else. No elaborate dirty talk, no overzealous bouncing, just the two of you together, curled against each other like you might not survive otherwise.

He’s not pushing you to your finish with deft fingers over your clit, not taking his fill with greedy hands. He’s simply there, with you, feeling every curve of your body as he sinks into your aching cunt and sighs as if he’s in heaven. (And maybe he is - because where he is could only ever be where you are and you feel like you’re floating, weightless and lovestruck, anchored only to your bed by the hand that squeezes yours and the mouth that purrs your name.)

“Yes,” you breathe, exhale in a breath that seems to take all of your effort. It’s hard to focus when he splits you open so well, fills your pussy and your heart and makes your chest erupt with a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

When he says it like that - folds it like a promise and tucks it into the spot behind your ear - you know it’s true. Even if you don’t always feel it, even if he doesn’t always show it, there’s not a doubt in your mind.

In all the ways he can, he loves you. And whether that means enough from one day to the next, you don’t mind sticking around to find out. Not if it means more of this.

(Of him, of you, of your life together.)

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

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mashiraostail · 4 years

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Hi! Can I please get some Gang Orca, Aizawa, Vlad King and Present Mic when their S/O knows they've been having a rough week and they surprise their mans with lingerie and an evening of... *ahem* Stress relief? Also some pampering and snuggles!

o my gosh i love this song this is kinda on the longer side i have diverged into the world of p o rn

ns fw under the cut (i think it’s pretty gender neutral lmk tho!)

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: Kugo tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve in private with you, stress was no different. He was clearly stretched out beyond his normal limits, and by the looks of it, he still had a ways further to go. He always got a little short with you when his work became tedious, not in a mean way just in a curt way. One word answers to your questions became favorable and for better or worse he mostly just liked to be left alone. He apologized after things were sorted he knows you’re only worried and trying to check in with him but when things pile up he gets overwhelmed even by your simple questions. You could feel the irritation appearing on Monday night, and it only piled as the week progressed, by the end of it the poor man was about to spill over with his annoyance. You were working quietly across the room from him, much less stressful and more leisurely assignments that didn’t make your heart leap out of your throat, you watch him tap his pen around on his desk, prattling the black plastic as he sat on the phone, after a moment he just hung up and sighed, that was the fourth interaction like that within the hour. You watched him forlornly, you wished there was some way for you to help relieve the tension in his shoulders, something you could say or do that would put him at ease rather than overwhelm him further. As you pondered it you realized that maybe there was something. You stand up suddenly, and the unexpected motion leads Kugo to turn and look at you expectantly. “I’m going to get ready for bed I think.” You sigh, “I’m pretty exhausted so it’s probably best to call it an early night.” It was at least worth a try, even if he’d say no, “you look tired too.” You press a kiss just below his eye, “why don’t you join me?” He shakes his head, “In a little while. I’ll be quiet.” “I wasn’t worried about that.” You squeeze his shoulders, “don’t work too hard, okay Kugo?” He just hums back at you as you leave. You were sort of worried you’d lost it, you’d boughten it a while ago but got too nervous to even put it on by yourself let alone in front of someone else. It wasn’t that you thought he wouldn’t like it, you were pretty sure Kugo could find a way to compliment you if you were wearing a trash bag, it just felt...strange. Embarrassing maybe. You couldn’t pin the word but it made you flutter nervously. When you do manage to dig it up you contemplate it for a second. You decide the nervousness will be worthwhile if it helps relieve Kugo even a little bit. You wonder how to go about it, should you just walk across the hall and bust in his office? That feels sort of curt. You look around for a moment before an idea percolates. “Kugo!” You call out to him, trying to keep an indifferent tone, “can you come here a second? I need a hand!” You hear him sigh, and you’re half expecting him to call back that the step ladder is in the kitchen. But you sit on the edge of your bed in wait, trying to look less nervous and more appealing. “What’s the matter? I’m very-” Blue, dark navy blue and barely there. He really wasn’t expecting this. He could practically see all of you, sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, thin satiny straps hardly holding the frail garment together, he’s sure just one tug from his finger would send it fluttering to the ground. He feels sort of bad for letting so much annoyance bubble up in him when you called for him. But now something else was bubbling up. It was like you’d packaged yourself up for him.. well he supposed you quite literally did. “Are you busy?” You can feel his gaze latch onto you, his eyes taking you in, up and down rapidly over and over again. “No..not...very..”

It really doesn’t take much coaxing to get him undressed and into bed. After a while of kissing him while his hands roam around the sheer blue lace that just scarcely covered you, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. You’d been together for a while, and you were never one to hold out on him, he isn’t sure why he’s on cloud nine right now, it’s not like he’d never gotten this sort of thing from you before, your hands, mouth, and a lot more than that were always there. If he wanted you all he had to do was ask. But something about you doing this for him, because he was stressed...the way you did all this just to relieve him? It was too sweet, combined with the sight of you in that perfect outfit on your knees for him and the feeling of your lips and hands playing with his already hard cock was more than enough to wash the tension away. It cleared his head of anything but you. Big hands pull your mouth off his length, the drool and precum around your lower lip, paired with the redness washed over your face and the obscene plumpness in your lips that the stretch of his cock left behind would have been enough to make him beg if you felt any need to withhold from him. Lucky for him you did not. “Kugo-” You let him spread your legs, tread careful fingers between them pressing in one, then another while he holds you up in his lap, leaning you against his chest for leverage. “What a sweet thing you are...” His chest rumbles with it, “did you go to this trouble all to make me feel better?” His fingers knew their way around too well, his other hand splayed on your chest, careful to simply push or slide underneath the lace rather than remove it, palms and fingertips occasionally brushing over your nipple, all you can do is keen and nod. “You did?” His hand on your chest pushes you closer, “that makes me so happy my love.” “Kugo-” You call for him again and he hums as you clutch his wrist, the one between your legs. “I’m right here. Hm... What would I do without you?” He murmurs it close to your ear, it sends a full-body shudder down your frame, “you always take such good care of me, and I was being cold to you wasn’t I?” “No,” you shake your head, your whole face is burning, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment at the exposure, “you weren’t-” “But I was.” He sighs, “and now I’m sorry, how can I make it up to you?” “Kugo- I just want you,” you gasp, fingers tightening around his arm, “please Kugo,” his fingers leave you at that, the loss makes your whole abdomen stutter. “Turn around and face me.” You follow his order with shaking thighs. “Aren’t you lovely?” His tongue slides over your chest as two big hands curl around the small of your back. “Can you do it?” His question falls on deaf ears, you’re already lining him up and starting to take him in, the groan that rumbles out of him only spurs you on until you’ve worked yourself up to hysterics bouncing in his lap, his low grunted praises pushing you closer to the proverbial edge by the second. You’re a nice view, Kugo’s surprised he’s lasted so long with it. He watches the flush extend down your chest, his hand occasionally treks down the small of your back to your hips, then down still to feel the stretch of you around his length, until he's just about there, then he’s guiding all your movements, pushing and lifting you with ease, an almost bruising grip gets you to roll your hips against his. You’re sheathed totally in his lap when you both finish. He enjoys watching your chest heave as you come down from it, then you fall against him. “You really do look lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, keeping you in place. “You think so?” You shuffle up his chest, “well I’m glad. I don’t know why I was nervous..” “Nervous?” His tongue glides along your neck, “about how you looked?” “Maybe, I don’t know. I thought maybe you wouldn’t like it, I...I guess I don’t know what I thought to be honest.” “Whatever you want to give to me I’d be delighted to have.” He nips your earlobe and you sigh, coiling a leg around him as he continues, “even when I get a little short with you, you’re always what I want. I’m a pushover when it comes to you.” He concedes, and then you remember. “Sorry to pull you away from all your work. I just wanted to help...” “No need to be sorry, you did help..” He’s rubbing long, tender strokes up your back, “and anyways it was an emergency.”

Shouta Aizawa: Stress wasn’t foreign to the erasure hero, though stress that came from being behind on work presented a certain dilemma. He dealt with stress by sleeping, but in this case...well sleeping would only make it worse. So he got even less sleep than normal. He was irritable at best and downright rude at worst. He’d apologize later, he always did, but at the moment all he wanted was to be left along to plug away at all the responsibilities he’d neglected until now. You felt bad, you wished there was more you could do to help him out, but as it were all you could really do is be there if he wanted to lean his weight on your arm or complain about his day, normally you’d offer a nap with him but that seemed like the last thing he’d want. You’d already left him to get ready for bed, you’d showered and were rummaging around for some pajamas when you find it, you don’t think you’d even worn it before. You wouldn’t say you and Shouta didn’t have a lot of sex, you had a decent amount, but normally fancy lingerie was left to fantasy, it looked fragile and not at all like something that would hold up against Shouta’s semi-destructive bedroom tendencies, you wonder why you bought it in the first place. Though you realize that it may be useful right about now, especially if he was in a being taken care of mood over a, doing the caring mood. You wonder how long ago you even got it, it still fit fine so it can’t be all that old. You peek out the bedroom door to make sure he’s still sitting, unsuspecting at the table in the kitchen, his back to you. When it all checked out you made your way over, sliding your arms around his neck. “Shou.” You rest your cheek against his temple, “it’s so late.” “I know.” Is his deadpan reply. “Do you need the time?” He points to the bottom right of his screen, a small digital clock displaying the hour. You huff at that, you knew he knows that’s not what you mean. “Come to bed with me.” You rub his chest over the ribbed fabric of his shirt, “please?” “In a minute.” “Shouta..please..” You whine at him and duck down to kiss his jaw, he reaches behind himself to hold onto you, he finds your shoulder, by the crook of your neck, expecting to feel the fabric of a t shirt or a tank top strap, but there’s nothing, just skin, he slides his hand over your shoulder, in search of something. His other arm reaches around too, lower, to your legs, thighs, and hips. “Are you naked?” He asks incredulously. “Maybe,” His hand finds one strap around your thigh as you continue, “or better.” He pulls away and stands, facing you, you’re still bent over resting on the back of his chair. “You-” His eyes latch onto the purple, royal purple, dark, and figure-hugging, leaving nothing to his imagination, purple that he wanted to pull away with his teeth, leaving marks on your skin behind in its place. “Where’d you get that-” “Why’s it matter?” You laugh, pulling him closer by his shoulder, “want a matching set?” “Shut up.” He wraps his arms around you despite his words. “Ready to call it a night now?” Your own arms come around his neck and he sighs. “You’re such a brat.” “You were the one being mean, if you work like this too much I’ll worry you don’t love me anymore, you know?” The trek from the kitchen to your bedroom is mostly lost in your memory. You aren’t entirely sure why you considered the possibility that Shouta would want to lay back and let you take care of him, as soon as he touched you back in the kitchen you realized all he’d really want to do was blow off steam. But you were fine with that too.

That in mind...he can be utterly cruel when it suits him.

“Are you still worried I don’t love you anymore?” His voice is low and gruff beside your ear, his lips and stubble scraping down your jaw to your neck. If you’d had plans to get on your knees for him he nixed them before you could even get started in favor of getting you where he had you now, back to his chest three fingers inside you at a grueling pace, pushing and curling and rubbing until your eyes were watering and you were arching against him, trying to get enough leverage to close yourself off. “Keep your legs open.” His other hand is at your collar bone, keeping you pressed against him, “come on, or I’ll tie you up how I want you.” You grip his arm at that you can feel him grin into your skin. “You’re gonna rip it-” You turn into him, chest stuttering, he hadn’t gone to the trouble of removing the lingerie, just pushing and twisting it out of the way of his hands. “I’ll buy you a new set if I do.” He’s teeth close around your neck, “don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about anything.” You dig your nails into his arm unsure of what number orgasm this was, honestly after 2 you felt like they just melded together anyways, it’s not like he let up nearly long enough to let you recover. “Are your eyes watering?” He mutters it into your jaw, “aren’t you cute? Is it too much?” You’re just shaking your head, keening and arching into his touch, chest heaving with helpless breaths. “No?” His voice is thick with faux sympathy, “are you gonna cry? It hurts a little to be so close, doesn’t it? Can’t take it? You’re right there aren’t you? Why can’t you cum?” He doesn’t mind the scratching, and it’s a good thing, cause if he did..he’d be an unhappy man after this all let up. “You didn’t say-” You barely get the breath in your lungs to push the words out. He’s grinning though, it’s the answer he wanted, exactly how he wanted it, breathless and needy. “You want me to say you can?” His other hand rubs your stomach comfortingly, a stark and unfair contrast to the pace of his second hand. “Is that what you want? Will you cry if I don’t?” “I’ll cry if you do too-” “I’m willing to test that, come on. Cum now.” It happens like clockwork, with Shouta it always was. Stuttering thighs, your stomach taking in shaky uneven breaths. Once your peak is there and gone both hands are softer, slower, rubbing long strokes against your sex then your stomach and chest. “That was good.” He’s murmuring it into the soft skin behind your ear, “that was so good. You’re so sweet.” His hand’s rubbing small circles over your belly, his thumb brushing over your navel. “Is that all you can do tonight?” “No,” You shake your head vehemently, “no I want you too-” He hums affectionately into your skin at that. “You are sweet tonight.” He squeezes you a little, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but you feel it. “Okay then, if this is what you want then I won’t feel bad. Lay on your chest.”

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: Despite how he looked Kan really wasn’t very brutish at all. But when he got like this sometimes his own strength evaded him. It made his emotions obvious, when he got too stressed even a fountain pen was liable to snap in his fist. He’d worked through all the wooden pencils in your apartment, they’d been halved and discarded in rapid succession, he was currently working through all the mechanical pencils. You hoped this all got sorted before the fountain pens, that was a mess you’d rather avoid. He was usually good at dealing with stress, long runs, combat trainings, things in that vein were usually enough to relive him of a bad couple of days. But if the discontent extended past that normally he liked talking with you, when he was stressed, upset or exhausted he liked having you hauled up in his lap, squeezing him, combing your fingers through his hair and babying him into perking up a bit. But when it got past even that stage was when you had to worry about fountain pens. He’d brush you off, just a grunt or nod as a reply as he slunk back into his seat. You tired your signature knuckle kisses to get him to warm up to you, but all you’d gotten out of him was a huff of breath. He didn’t pull his hand away from you though, until his phone started to ring, and by the time he finished his conversation and hung up he didn’t look keen on offering it to you again. “Sek.” You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow and he nods. “You should come to bed. It’s late and you don’t feel good.” “I feel fine.” He shakes your hold on his arm, “you go ahead. It is late, there’s no need for you to be up now.” Normally he’d kiss your head with a phrase like that, but all he did was break the pencil in his right hand. You sigh, “alright. Well wake me up if anything okay? If I can help at all I want to.” “I know. Thanks.” You kiss his temple as you stand up, “Don’t be too late.” He just nods at that and you close the door behind you as you leave. It’s there in your closet front and center when you open it up. You were planning on using it for his birthday...but now..well maybe it’d be enough to rescue him yet? You only got it a few days ago, you hadn’t even tried it on yet. You look between it and your reflection before settling on an idea. You stand before the closed door, separating you and Sekijiro, you’re just a little nervous, if he brushed you off dressed like this you’d be sort of crushed, but he got such tunnel vision sometimes it was a possibility in your head. But you were almost 100% there now, so there wasn’t any use in turning back. “Sekijirio.” You open the door and try to seem less anxious. “Mhm?” He doesn’t turn to look at you. You approach him without responding. “Sekijiro.” You say it harder this time and he nods more obviously, still spinning a barely together pencil in his fingers. “Yeah,what’s wrong?” You’re standing beside him and he still doesn’t look at you. “I though you were going to bed?” He says still without looking at you. “I was.” You agree. “So why didn’t you?” “I got lonely.” You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to get his gaze on you, though you’re ineffective. “I’m really busy.” “Sekijiro.” You spin his chair. “Baby what gives, I-” He stops, maybe chokes on something. “You’re being such a brute.” You take his hands and slide them up your stomach as you drop into his lap. He hears you but all he can think about is red, lacy and showy fabric highlighting the best places, like a guide for all the places his wants to put his hands, the band around your thigh squeezing, making you look even fuller and more supple in his lap. “What happened to my big sweet man Seki?” His mouth feels dry, your holding the sides of his neck, drawing him into a kiss, and clearly encouraging him to just put his hands all over you. It was like he was having some embarrassing high school fantasy, like someone dug around his brain and picked out his most perfect fantasy and laid it out like a trap for him. “I say that..but it’s so sexy when you get all worked up..” His stomach swarms at that as your eyes cast to the abandoned pile of broken writing utensils. You’re practically whining into his lips, “ and I know I shouldn’t distract you, you said you were busy, I’m sorry I’m so needy-” “I’m not busy at all.” He barely lets you finish, “this is nothing. Don’t be sorry. I can do it tomorrow.” He was sure his class would understand if he..waited an extra day or two to return the exams.. “Just keep working.” Your hands are sliding into his shirt, “I’ll take care of you.”

He could not keep working. It was unfair of you to hold him to that standard, when you were so good at this, when you looked so good on your knees between his legs, taking him to the back of your throat, when your hands felt like that braced on his thighs. No sane person could keep working. Not when your hair was begging to have his hands in it, or when you clearly needed to be guided up and down his length by the nape of your neck. He only had two hands. And when your’s started wandering, up his abdomen, around to his waist, begging him to toss his shirt somewhere else..the work can wait, for your sake. He doesn’t mean to pull so hard, but the moan that flutters past your lips when he does indicates it may not be the worst mistake he’s ever made. He pulls you off his length and you let him go with a pop, a thin strand of something obscene connected your lips to the head of his cock, the sight of it alone was enough to make him buck his hips up into nothing. “Let’s just go to bed.” He’s guiding you to stand, “I’m done here. Let’s just go bed.” He can’t tell if the ditzy stumble and blown out pupils are just part of the act or if blowing him really does shut your brain off a little. “if you want-” Your voice jumps as he swipes you up via the back of your thighs, once your settle though you take the short walk to your bedroom as an opportunity to get your lips on him again, his shoulders, his chest, just around the neckline of his hero costume, if it even tore a little one stood the chance of sticking out. He loses his pants on the way. He just tosses you on the bed once you’re close enough, before you can protest or complain he’s kissing you quiet, then trailing his mouth down your neck and shoulders, to your chest and stomach and legs, kissing and biting and fingering, enjoying the feeling of your fingers twirling and tugging his hair, and the way you’re spreading your legs to allow him closer. He enjoys it until he’s hooking your legs over his shoulders and lining himself up, your hands brace his hips as he presses forward. If anyone asked him this was the best of both worlds, he got the physical work out plus he got you cooing in his ear? He wasn’t really sure what he was stressed about in the first place. “Fuck-” You’re gasping it out, pressing his face into your neck, “you’re amazing-” Even subtle praise makes his stomach jump, and you’re just babbling it out thoughtlessly at this point, he doesn’t blame himself for not lasting much longer after you start. His weight drops onto your chest after you finish and you heave, “jeeze Sek-” “Sorry.” He presses his face into your shoulder, “sorry.” But he doesn’t move. The way you wrap your arms around his back say you don’t want him to. “That was really good.” He’s still huffing into your skin and you hum, dragging a hand up his back. “I’ll help you grade that stuff tomorrow.” You twirl the hairs at the base of his neck around your fingertips. He groans thankfully. “I’m sorry I was being mean.” He rolls over and traps you against his chest, “you’re the best.”

Hizashi Yamada/ Present Mic Hyperactive was an understatement, manic was an intense downplay of the current state of your boyfriend. And he was doing everything but the things that needed to get done. “Hizashi-” “I can't now I need to do-” (insert thing that doesn’t need to be done at all). He had plenty of reports to fill out, from what you heard it was a busy week for patrols in the area, plus his usual grading and any work for the show. But instead of doing that he was reorganizing a record shelf. “Hizashi I-” “You don’t understand how badly I need to organize these alphabetically by title.” He doesn’t let you get a word in. “Clearly I don’t at all. Can I help at all?” You sit on the ground behind him. “No I don’t think so.” “Alright.” You concede, “I’m gonna call it a night.” You sigh, “call if you need me.” “Aye aye.” He’s scrutinizing two records as you leave him. You just needed to get him to focus on something, then he’d be fine. But what could you get him to focus on...something starts to bubble up, it might just work too..if you could get his feet on the ground in anyway at all you were sure it’d stick. It doesn’t take you long to find the box, you’d bought it for a special occasion, though with Hizashi you normally didn’t get much in the ways of planning and preparation, when valentines, your birthday, his birthday, an anniversary etc.. rolled around he was jumping your bones the moment you rolled over in the morning. You don’t think he’s ever even seen this one on you. You don’t take long to get changed, you’re inspecting yourself in the mirror when your bedroom door opens. “Babe I know you said you were going to bed but I hope you aren’t asleep because while I was cleaning out that box that I use to prop up some vinyl sleeves I found these hilarious pictures from high school of you and Nem-” He drops the pictures. “Oh.” You turn to him, “well I wanted to give you a surprise.” “You did-” He chokes it out, red flush creeping down his neck, “why are you wearing that-” “Because.” You go over to him and take his wrists, pulling him further into your bedroom, he just stumbles along with your pull. “You need to calm down Zashi baby.” “This does not make me feel calm-” It’s strangled, if he got any redder you were sure you’d see steam coming out of his ears. “You need to get all your energy out.” You press him down until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You roll your hips against him, and drag your lips down his jaw, one hand braced on his shoulder and the other against his chest, but you can still feel his attention waining. “Zashi.” You drop all your weight into his lap and it pulls his eyes from your dresser back to you. “Focus on me.” You guide his hands up your waist and all the fluster that had been lost as his thoughts wandered away from you returned. You realize the better thing to do is stand up and let him have things his way. “You can look or touch however you want.” You pull his hands down your hips. “So just blow off all that extra steam okay? Whatever you want, just tell me.” He looks mildly like he’s about to pass out. His hands go where you expect, your hips, around to cup your ass and his lips flutter around your stomach and waist. You elect to just sigh good naturedly and curl your fingers in his hair to keep him with you. “Can you turn around?” “Hizashi.” You frown, “don’t be distasteful.” “You said whatever I wanted-” You suppose you cant argue that so you turn around and try not to let out an embarrassing squeak or squeal when 100% of his attention is directed at your ass, one arm circling around you to hold you in place. Various articles of clothing are lost or rearranged to accommodate the touching and kissing. He manages to pull you into bed with him, still keeping your legs on either side of his head as he lays down. His arms wrap around your thighs fingers and palms running slow strokes over your sex as his teeth scrape the surrounding skin, tongue fluttering against your hole occasionally. You press against his chest for leverage and he encourages you to rock your hips against him. You eventually go for his cock, as he starts to work you up too much, getting you too close. You thumb at the head before leaning down and taking him past your lips. He seems contented with that for a while until he’s laying you out on your chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pushing into you. He doesn’t stay pressed to you for too long before he’s pulling back to watch your whole body react to him. It held his attention exceedingly well. “Zashi fuck-” To say that the way you reached back and fumbled for his hand where it held the bend of your hips heightened the experience would be an understatement. “Fuck you’re really sexy-” He presses his fingers into your skin harder, “god you’re so fucking hot,” he groans watching your back shift to accommodate the way your hand searches for some purchase. Instead though he’s pushing it away and using his grip on you to turn you to your back, he pulls your legs around his waist and you follow his pull with no protest. “Fucking god,” He grunts, bottoming out as if he hadn’t pulled out in the first place, “shit, look at you.” “Zashi-” Your chest flutters with it, he can feel it under his hands. “Say my name like that again.” He mutters it, maybe more to himself, he’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist and aligning it over his shoulder. He seriously had way too much energy, you could barely keep up you felt so dizzy. “Zashi!” You keen at the deeper angle and he groans. “God you sound almost as good as you look.” He presses his forehead into your shoulder, “I’m gonna fucking cum babe-” The way you were gripping him like you’d float away if you didn’t was already more than enough for him, but the way you’re nodding, eyes squeezed shut as you gasp it out at him, “me too!” If that didn’t do the trick then nothing would. He’s against your chest, heaving. “Feel better?” You ask pulling a long strand of hair between your fingers. He hums and presses his face into your neck. “Yeah I do..” “It’s still pretty early.” You curl your arms around his back and drag your fingers over the shifting muscles below. He nods at that and takes a deep breath of you. “So..” You prompt him. “I could help you work out what you need to get done tomorrow?” “We could go again?” You speak in unison. “Again!?” You flush, “Zash you have way too much energy!”

Bonus Aizawa ending hehe: “Are you sure you’re okay?” He’s looking at you where you lay below him the next morning, he’d reached over you to click off his alarm when he caught sight of you, he’d really done a number on you. Red in all the places he’d grabbed or smacked, shapeless hickeys outlining where the lingerie had been the night before, the map on your skin the only thing left of the garment as far as you were concerned. “I’m fine.” You wave, “I’ve gotta get up soon though, I’ll be late.” You pin some of his stray hairs back, “what really matters is how are you feeling? Did I help at all? I was worried I’d only make it worse-” “I feel much better.” He leans down to bridge the gap between your lips, “I shouldn’t get so stand offish. I’m sorry. I hope you don’t really think I don’t love you.” “Of course I don’t.” You laugh, sitting up, “I’m glad you feel better now. It’s okay to need space Shouta.” You squeeze his face in your hands, “I love you and I know that you love me. I’m always here for you, even when you need space okay?” He hears your words and appreciates them, but his attention is taken by the state of your thighs, which was 1000x worse than that of your chest and stomach. “Are you sure I didn’t do too much? You can be honest with me. I know I was in a really bad mood.” He asks pushing the blanket to reveal more reddend skin. “Positive. Now you should get a few more z’s Shou.” You stretch out, “I’ve got a meeting.” As soon as your feet hit the floor your legs protest the weight of your body with everything they have. “Are you sure you’re sure?” Shouta can see your hickey covered thighs trembling as you walk around the bed to your closet, the way you hold the door knob like a life line makes it obvious. The backs of your thighs are still stained red and tensed taught to carry your weight. “Yeah I just...need to stretch is all..” “Uh-huh. Stretch.” Shouta’s just laughing at you.

#aizawa shouta x reader #gang orca x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #vlad king x reader #present mic x reader #kugo sakamata x reader #kan sekijiro x reader #bnha x reader #bnha request #aizawa shouta smut #bnha smut #smut

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mercur1e · 3 years

Note

Saw your Father’s Day post and I knew I had to ask for it:

Dilf!Jean x Teacher!Black reader fic

I’ll let you pick whether it’s sfw or nsfw, I just need some Jean content rn😌

YES OML

Contains: Modern AU, female anatomy but no pronouns

Jean has had his eye on you for a while now. You're his kid's teacher, he know he shouldn't be feeling this way. But he can't help it. You're so kind and beautiful. You're great with the kids, and always patient with them. And god, your smile. That pretty, pretty smile. When he dropped Julia off at the first day of school, you had smiled and introduced yourself. Nothing unusual, it's just common courtesy. So why was he acting like a teenager in love all over again? He brushed it off thinking it was just because he hasn't dated in a while. Ever since his divorce he hasn't really been interested in dating.

Everytime Jean would pick up his child he made small talk with you. About his daughter, about your jobs, anything that would get you to talk to him. Jean would subtly compliment you, telling you that you look pretty or that a color looks good on you. Hell, he pointed out when you changed your hair up for a day, even if it wasnt anything major. Every once in a while he would lightly flirt with you, questioning how you're single and asking if you have a s/o. You'd always reply that you haven't been interested in anyone around here.

And it wasn't one sided, no. You'd glance at him when (you thought) he wasn't looking, looking as handsome as ever. His slicked back hair and style would make anyone swoon. A million dollar smile, great personality, and he was a good father? You wanted to be with him, you really did. But as a teacher you know you shouldn't. But the school year is almost out, you wish he would make a move.

Today was just like any other day, Jean came to pick up his kid and he was making small talk with you. Talking to you about your plans for the summer, and where you would like to go. Meanwhile Jean was was worrying about how to ask you out. "Do I just say it? Do I slip it in? Shit. Fuck it I'll just say it."

As you were talking about your summer plans, Jean interrupted you. "I..I was wondering if I can take you out on a date? If not I'm sorry that-"

"I've been waiting for you to say that." A smile forms on your lips. "I thought I'd become a corspe before you asked me out!" You poke in a joking manner.

Jean chuckled at you. "Well how about as an apology for making you wait so long, I take you out to dinner tonight?" He says while smiling at you. God, he's got a nice smile.

"I would love that. Is 7 o'clock good for you?" You ask Jean while writing your number on a slip of paper and handing it to him.

"Works for me. It won't be hard finding a babysitter for Julia for the night. I'll see you then sweetheart."

The rest of the school day went by fast. Happy to be home, you search through you closet to find something to wear. After digging in your closet you found your perfect outfit. Putting it on and standing infront the mirror you looked damn good in it. Going into the bathroom to finish up your hair and getting the look you wanted, you were almost done. Now you just had to find the right fragrance and any other additions. And with that, you were ready for your date. Hearing a knock on your door, you go to answer it.

You're met with Jean, looking as handsome as ever. He has on a dress shirt with some slacks, paired with a nice watch and shoes. Eyeing you up and down, he shoots you a smirk.

"You look amazing."

"And you look handsome, which is a shocker for you." You play, he knows he looks even on his worst days.

Jean guffawed at your comment. "Uh huh, like I don't notice you checking me out almost everyday at school."

Locking your door behind you, you two begin walking towards his car. "Guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought."

"Nope, you're shit and trying to be sneaky."

"Oh shut up!" You giggled as you slapped his arm lightly. He opens the car door for you and you get in.

"So, where are we going?" You ask once he gets in the car.

"It's a surprise, but I think you'll like it when we get there."

As he was driving, you two talked and joked together. It wasn't a very long ride, maybe about 15-20 minutes until you arrived to the destination. It was a popular steakhouse that had recently opened up, and it wasn't cheap either.

"I've always wanted to go here, I've heard good things about this place." Looking around the parking lot, you could tell it wasn't a super busy night but they had business, that's good.

"Me too. I've heard good things about the place and its owned by a local chef." Holding out his hand to you, you take it as you're getting out of the car. To his pleasant surprise, you hold on to his hand until you two are seated at the table he reserved. The rest of the date went wonderfully, you both thoroughly enjoyed dinner and had fun getting to know each other more. And of course taking playful jabs at each other and eating dessert.

Pulling up in front of your house, Jean helps you out the car and walks you to your front door.

"I really enjoyed tonight, I loved every bit of it. Thank you for treating me to dinner."

"Of course." Jean replies, secretly hoping you'd you'd kiss him.

You two sat in silence for a few minutes until you looked him in the eye. His eyes were shining, hoping that you'd make a move. Finally, you broke the silence.

"Can I kiss you-" You didn't even finish your sentence before his lips landed on yours. He pulled back though, the kiss ending as quick as it started. You kissed him again. And again, until it turned into a full blown makeout session. "Do you want to go inside?" You asked once you finally caught your breath. Jean nodded at you, eyes now clouded with need. Opening your door, you barely have time to register what happened. Jean's got you pressed against your door, lips back on yours. Running your hands through his hair you let his tongue roam your mouth. He sucks on your tongue while trying to take your clothes off. "Mm, not here, my bedroom." While hurrying towards your bedroom, articles of clothing litter your hallway as you both rush to take off your clothes. After you get into the bedroom Jean motions for you to lay on the bed.

Laying between your legs, he leaves kisses on your navel and thighs, avoiding where you need him the most. Taking a long finger and swiping up your slit, he feels just how wet you are for him.

"Fuck, I've been waiting to do this for so long."

You hum in agreement. "Me too, I've wanted you for so long"

Licking a stripe up your pussy, you shiver under him. He kitten licks your clit before sticking a long finger into you. Your vagina clenches around the digit, adjusting to it after a minute.

"Another" you mewl, wanting more of him. He listens, putting his index finger in. He moves his fingers in a scissoring motion, loving the way you feel around him. His fingers are coated with your juices, creating a wet sound every time he thrusted them into you. Sucking on your clit, you moan and twitch under him. He speeds his fingers up, and starts sucking at your clit more harshly.

"Ah! Ah! M' gonna cum!"

"That's right, come for me baby. Cum all over my fingers."

Your body shivers from your orgasm as your hole convulses around Jean's fingers, creaming around him. He takes his fingers out of you, and you whine at the loss. He takes his fingers up to his mouth and sucks on them.

"You tatse so good baby. So good for me. Can't wait to have you screaming for me."

He looks so hot like this. Hair disheveled and out of place, lust filled eyes just waiting to devour you. He takes his dick and strokes it a few times before pushing your legs against your chest. He lines himself up at your entrance, and slowly pushes in. It stings at first, he's so big. You already feel full, before you look down and see that you've only taken half of him. Jean slowly eases the rest of himself into you, before he's finally buried to the hilt. You swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Y-you can move baby, I can take it."

Jean smirks at you. "You sure?"

"Mhm..keep going."

Once Jean knew you were okay he started roughly thrusting into you. Leaning down to suck at your nipples, your hand grabbed at his hair. Tugging lightly at it, you wrangled a low groan out of the man above you. He can tell you're close because your moans are getting louder and he can feel you tightening around his dick.

"You gonna cum for me baby? Want me to fill you up?"

"Mm Mhm!"

"Say it."

"Cum in my Jean, please!"

He smirked. "Anything you want baby."

Slamming his hips into you, Jean's abusing your poor g-spot at this point. He flips you over so you're face down ass up and you can tell he's close too by the way his dick is twitching inside of you.

"Fuck! Fuck! I'm cummimg, I'm cumming-"

"That's it baby, come all over me."

Jean doesn't let up even after you've come. Your overstimulated pussy fills the room with sloppy noises. Jean gives a few more rough thrusts before coming inside of you. You both simultaneously groan out, you feel even fuller than before. He pulls out of you, feeling a sense of pride as he watches some of his cum drip out of your pussy.

Rolling over onto your back, you gaze up at Jean. A fucked out grin makes its way onto your face. Jean smiles back down at you before he lays down onto your chest.

"Is it selfish if I say I don't want this to end?" He mumbles in between the valley of your breats.

"Mm no. Because I don't want it to end either. I really like you Jean, I mean it." Your hand runs through his hair, its original style long gone.

"I really like you too, you think we could make something outta this? Maybe even a relationship?"

You giggle. "Is this your way of asking me to be your s/o?"

"Yeah...pretty shitty way huh?" Jean let's out a small laugh.

"Hmm yes, but I accept. I'll be your s/o."

"Guess it's not stupid if it works hm?" Jean leans up to plant a kiss against your lips.

"Oh shut up you!"

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE THIS DONE YESTERDAY BUT I FEEL ASLEEP! Anyways I hoped you liked it! Thank you for requesting and feedback is appreciated!! Have a good day! <33

This is my original work. Do not steal, repost, or copy my works. All works on this belong to @c00chi

#jean kirschtein smut #aot x black!reader #aot x poc!reader #aot x reader #jean kirsten x reader #jean kirstein x black reader #jean kirstein x poc!reader #jean kirsten smut

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an-obsessed-writer · 3 years

Text

Mind Over Matter

Summary: Everyone knew the Baron Helmut Zemo, you’d have to be living under a rock to not recognize the name of the ridiculously wealthy royal attending your university. He was the school’s top bachelor, a sophisticated and confident man who obviously was wealthy. That was enough to make any woman at the university swoon, but he was always known to never keep a girl for long. What happens when (Y/N) finds herself meeting him at one of his parties?

(A/N): i think i’ll turn this into a series, but not sure yet! im a whore for zemo rn as everyone is, let me know if you’re interested in reading more <3

Word Count: 2.2k

“(Y/N)!” Wanda plops onto your bed after she runs into the dorm, and smiles sweetly up at you. “Wanna go to a party tonight? Word has it that Zemo is throwing a major bash for the new school year.”

Everyone knew the Baron Helmut Zemo, you’d have to be living under a rock to not recognize the name of the ridiculously wealthy royal attending your university. He was the school’s top bachelor, a sophisticated and confident man who obviously was wealthy. That was enough to make any woman at the university swoon, but he was always known to never keep a girl for long. Fortunately, you didn’t live under a rock, just too immersed in your studies to care much about him. You’ve seen him walking on campus before, with his fur coat and maroon mock turtleneck, and you could see why he was such a popular man. It’s known that Europeans always have the best sense of style.

“I’ve already got a major essay to finish for my philosophy class next week, maybe next time?” You frown at your roommate, feigning sadness that you wouldn’t be able to make it, but by the look of her face, she wasn’t going to let you get out of this one.

“You promised you’d attend a party this year! We’re juniors and you’ve been to only a handful. Besides, his parties are super classy, everyone gets all dressed up. It’ll be fun, I swear.” Wanda looks up at you with pleading eyes, and you couldn’t help but think about the opportunity presented.

It was true, you hadn’t been to many parties since college started. Your grades were stellar, your reputation even more so. Studying as a pre-med was no joke, resulting in your non-existent social life, but you honestly didn’t mind it much. You kept your head down because college was expensive enough as it is, you couldn’t afford to get distracted. Closing the laptop on your lap, a sigh escapes your mouth, and Wanda took it as a silent submission for what she had planned.

“Perfect! It’s tonight at his mansion. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to get him wrapped around your finger by the end of the night,” she winked and immediately began rummaging through her closet for the perfect outfit. “I heard the theme was the 20’s, I’ve always loved the flapper girl outfits.” A laugh escaped from Wanda’s lips, and a mischievous smile was displayed on her face.

If there was anyone you trusted at this place, it’d be Wanda Maximoff. Her brother Pietro came as a close second, but she’d been your rock throughout your educational journey. Everyone loved her, everyone wanted her at their parties, but she chose to stay in with you to watch movies and talk about guys on more than one occasion. Coming from Sokovia, Wanda and Zemo talked often because of their love for the Sokovian language, but nothing romantic ever stemmed from their interactions with each other.

Truth be told, you were a pretty girl. This never went unnoticed by the guys around you, leading to a few regretful hookups. Your confidence oozed from your cheeky smile and subtly flirtatious comments when appropriate, but you were adamant on not entering a relationship until school was over. However, you were the realist out of this duo, and you knew for a fact you’d never be able to pull a guy like Helmut Zemo. With his looks and amount of money, he could get the most sought after movie star (which everyone was fairly sure he hooked up with Megan Fox at one point, but that was just a rumor).

“Do you still have your flapper girl costume from Halloween a while ago? I’ve got mine, and I don’t think we have enough time to shop before the party,” Wanda inquired.

“Of course I do, it’s my go to Halloween costume now if I ever go out again.” You smiled, reminiscing over the memories from last Halloween, and stumbled off your bed to find the outfit.

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

The music was blasting, and you couldn’t help but look in awe of your surroundings. A double curved staircase with red carpeting was in front of you and Wanda, with grand railings connected to the marble floor below. The home was obnoxiously large, you could talk and an echo would rumble through the room.

Wanda gives you an encouraging look, and grabs your hand to lead you towards the party room upstairs. The silver tassels from your mini dress rubbed against your dress with every step you took, and you knew there was no turning back now. Besides, there was no way you could leave this beautiful home anytime soon, you simply wanted to drink in it’s beauty forever.

Once upstairs, a man in a suit smiled at the two of you, and asked for your invitations, which Wanda gladly handed over. With a nod, he opened the doors that were taller than any of you, and the sight immediately took your breath away.

White, translucent balloons hung from the ceiling. Art deco inspired tables with feathers and gold tassels lining over them containing copious amounts of alcohol were in the middle of the room. Intricate white and golden wallpaper covered the walls, which helped bring everything together, but the flashing disco lights allowed a modern feel to this 1920’s inspired party.

Not too long after entering the room, Vision strutted over to the two of you after catching sight of his girlfriend. “Hello (Y/N),” he flashed a quick smile to you and placed a kiss on Wanda’s cheek, “Care if I steal my girlfriend away for a dance?”

“No problem at all,” you waved your hand to dismiss the two of them, and Wanda went off to the dance floor with her love.

This was normal, Wanda would be whisked away by Vision, and you typically found a guy to bring you attention for the night, but something felt different. Right now, all you wanted was a drink, and you found yourself making a beeline towards the tables full of alcohol.

The bartender was dressed in one of the finest suits, and you couldn’t help but wonder “If his employees are dressed like this, what was the Baron wearing?”

“What would you like?” Your mind blanked trying to think of alcohol that you liked, it’s been too long.

“Surprise me, it’s been a while.” You smiled sheepishly, but your attention was caught by the feeling of another person behind you.

“That won’t do, you look like you need something strong.” A thick, European accent filled your ears, and you couldn’t help the way that your body tensed up. With a turn of your head, your eyesight took hold of the one and only, Helmut Zemo.

He looked even more delicious standing so close to you. As expected, Zemo didn’t mess around with his looks. A burgundy, pinstripe suit hugged his figure, and you couldn’t help but take note of the way his arms looked under the tight sleeves.

“Something strong would be nice,” you say holding your chin up, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of the most well known man in the school. With a wave of his finger and a command in a language you didn’t know, two shots of clear liquid were slammed on the table, and Zemo picked one up with a cheeky smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him and nervously picked up the shot glass with shaky hands. Lifting it up to your nose, your face contorted into an expression of disgust at the smell of acetone. “What is this?”

With a rumbling chuckle from Zemo, your cheeks blushed slightly, silently scolding yourself for losing your composure. He raised his glass and with a tilt of his head, he responded “Rakija, essentially European moonshine. I’ll take a shot with you, it can be too strong for some Americans.”

Silently, you nodded and raised the shot glass, mimicking his actions. Once he swiftly threw back the liquid into his mouth, you followed, and immediately wanted to gag. It burned as it went down your throat, the taste of pure chemicals became overwhelming, and you managed to keep a straight face through it all. Zemo slammed his glass back onto the table and took a step towards you in order to be able to communicate over the loud music.

“I apologize for being such a rude host, but I don’t recognize you.” The smell of rich cologne flooded your nostrils, and you could’ve melted right there. His eyes peered down onto you, being that you were significantly shorter than the man towering over your body, and you licked your lips.

“I usually stay in my dorm, I’m pre-med.” You held your hand out politely, “(Y/N).”

Zemo’s rough hands took hold of your own, lowering his head to leave a kiss on the indents of your knuckles. Without standing up straight, he raises his eyes to look at you through his eyebrows, “It’s a pleasure to meet you (Y/N), I hope you’re enjoying the party.”

His voice was like smooth caramel and melted chocolate, just the right mix of salty and sweet. His thick accent burned into your head with the way he said your name, and your hand was tingling from where his lips met your knuckles. After hearing the stories of his charming ways, you wanted to call bullshit, but experiencing this first hand was completely different. There was some truth to the rumors of the mysterious Baron, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to find out more. The man simply oozed sex appeal.

“I actually just got here with Wanda. She’s off somewhere with Vision.” You were proud of how you managed to keep your voice at a steady level, knowing that your mind was going crazy with how close the two of you were.

Zemo’s eyebrow perked up at the mention of Wanda’s name and held out his hand with the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, “Any friend of Wanda’s is a friend of mine, care to dance (Y/N)?”

Every fiber of your being wanted you to run, knowing that if you went to dance with him, there was no turning back. Still, you couldn’t stop your hand from being placed into his, and he swiftly pulled you along towards the dance floor.

Sweaty bodies surrounded the two of you, but you could only focus on his eyes engulfing the way the dress hugged your body in all the right spots. He placed his hand on the small of your back where the dress was open, the touch sending shivers down your spine. The Baron’s hands were warm, completely contrasting the iciness of your skin.

With another hand on your waist and a smirk, he began moving his hips, which you soon followed. As the song went on, the distance between you got smaller and smaller, until your chest was practically smushed against his. You lifted your left hand to run through his chestnut brown hair, and it was as soft as you expected it to be.

“Of course it is,” you thought to yourself. “A Baron deserves only the most expensive products.”

“You’d think I would know everyone on campus, but your beauty caught me by surprise.” His breath felt hot against your ear, and you swallowed thickly.

“Not many people know me,” you countered.

“What a shame, isn’t it darling?” The use of pet names was enough to make your knees buckle, especially when paired with the Sokovian drawl, but you shook your head in defiance.

“He probably says that to all the girls.” Even so, you wished your mind would be quiet so you could appreciate this moment for what it is. The chance to dance with the bachelor everyone was pining for, but he was only paying attention to you.

You didn’t respond, only picking up the pace of your swaying hips, grinding against his thigh. Zemo exhaled a quick breath, and wasted no time to smash his lips onto yours. This action sent electricity through your body, the taste of the alcohol on his breath only made him more alluring, and your mouth copied his movements. Teeth clacked against one another, but neither of you cared. The only thing you could think about was the feeling of his fingers trailing down your back, and the way you fit with him like a lost puzzle piece.

Zemo grabbed at the nape of your neck, signaling to deepen the kiss with a tightening grip and a nip at your bottom lip, but you pulled away before you did something you regret.

With a confused look, Zemo licked his lips. “Care to go upstairs to my room?”

“Actually,” you say breathlessly, “I think it’s better if I head out.” Regretfully, you untangle your bodies and take a step back from the powerful man standing in front of you.

Without taking a second to think about what you’ve just done, you turn and make your way to the exit, but not without glancing at the Baron one last time.

His eyes never left you, and he stood still as you walked through the doors.

#zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #marvel #wanda maximoff #vision #zemo imagine #zemo fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #the avengers #college!au #college!zemo #bucky barnes #pietro maximoff

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hee4won · 3 years

Text

how en- hyung line comforts you

warnings: maybe a bit angsty? not really though so none.

a/n: this is kinda self-indulgent simply bc school and athletics have been kicking me <//3 but also for anyone that is feeling overwhelmed :[ i hope this helps!! + for my sweetie @avocadosforsale ^^

part two

heeseung

okay. best boyfriend ever award definitely goes to him

you’re stressed out about whatever but you don’t wanna tell him

bc the last thing u want to see is his worried expression :(

like imagine he’s laughing and smiling then he sees you sulking

and now he’s worried

0/10 experience for sure

so you try hiding your frenzied expression from him for some time by staying in your bedroom

but he notices and makes his way up to check on you and sees you on the bed

CRYING.

he wants to rush over to you but at the same time he’s not sure if you’d prefer to keep your space

continue under cut!

so he’ll be standing at the door kinda like

🧍‍♂️ “is there anything i can do?”

in that low voice that’s almost like a whisper and his cute big eyes

my baby ☹️

once you finish sniffling and gather the ability to breathe lol

then you kinda slowly look up at him and ask

“can you just hold me? please?”

AND OBVIOUSLY

He is already on the bed with you

you -> in his arms and

i feel like he’s the type to run his hand on your back or play w your hair

and he definitely hums to you in an attempt to get you calm or just comfortable

that method will more than likely make you fall asleep though..

but hee will gladly cradle you until the sun comes up and he is 100% sure that you’re okay

jay

i don’t see jay as the worrying type but i also don’t see him as the type to like

completely leave you alone

if something is wrong he will most definitely cater to all of your needs

with no hesitation.

“jay, i can literally do it myself”

“no no, you should rest”

he’ll probably cover it up by saying smth like

“i need you in the best condition possible so you can go back to being my photographer”

😒😒😒.

you know it’s just a facade though

he loves you <3

and it would be a lie to say that deep down he’s not super worried

if you have a headache from your schoolwork or a project

he would probably finish it for you

even if he isn’t taking the class

don’t expect an A for that btw ❤️

but if youve injured yourself

then he is on the internet looking up any and all treatments/methods for recovery

he HAS to figure out how to fix the issue himself

seeing you in pain just makes him feel so :|

so expect him to be with you all the time until you’re back to normal

jake

i’m having trouble deciding if he’s the type to be all over you and cheer you up

or just do what you ask and let you come around on your own time

honestly i think jake would feel kinda bad if you got stressed or sick

bc he’s thinking

hey i’m the bf :( why are they so stressed it’s my job to be here for them so this doesn’t happen

so he’s kinda sad ☹️ BUT THEN he realizes that his duties must be filled

will definitely cook for you + do your laundry

literally anything domestic

and if you’re feeling SUPER down one day

he’ll probably make some cute sticker that says

“y/n’s personal caregiver” or “y/n’s maid”

if you enjoy dad jokes.. good luck bc hes on a website with 100+ of them

he just needs to see you smile

bc he can he get kinda worried (yk not knowing if he’s doing a good job)

but you always make sure to reassure him!

and with jake by your side, you get better in no time <3

sunghoon

he doesn’t panic

not on the outside of course

this is literally him: 😐😑😐😑😐 “i thought i told u to manage your time more wisely”

and u obviously don’t wanna hear him nag and show off his maturity rn 😒

so he cuts his lecture short and just goes to the store to get you .. maybe ice cream

or if you’re sick he’ll go get medicine for you :]

still won’t be very open about how nervous he is

bc inside he’s thinking “i’m not a doctor what if i just make them worse”

omg he would have a humidifier and everything

literally forces you to take a hot shower and sets out comfy clothes for you

(you’re on a bedtime btw he is not gonna be caught slacking 😇)

this is the cute part though

when you’re sleeping, he’ll come into the room and kneel by the bed

probably kiss you on the forehead and take your hand in his own just bc he wants to feel you and make sure you’re doing okay

he’ll whisper a sweet little “i love you, i’ll make sure you don’t feel like this again”

AND THEN HES OFF TO BED

Honestly though.

he probably stays at the bedside admiring you for so long that he passes out right there

and now you’re waking up to a cute sunghoon right next to you 🥺🥺

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

The Princess and The Pogue (Pt. 8)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: smut, swearing, underage drinking, drugs

Part Summary: Y/N must attend the dinner her parents planned. After, she and Topper attend Kelce’s party.

A/N: not proof read bc school is life rn but I wanna keep updating. ALSO DANG TOPPER IS SPICY IN THIS!!!!

Masterlist

Your dad hands the keys over to the valet as the other Club worker opens your car door and offers you his hand. You accept, slipping out of the SUV gracefully. Rhett meets you, offering you his arm for which you take and follow him inside.

"I can't breathe," you inhale shapely.

"Hot?" Your brother guesses as he buttons up his blazer.

"No, this satin dress doesn't give at all and Mom made me get a size smaller because she thought it made me look thinner," you grumble, tugging at the unforgiving fabric.

"She's probably just trying to punish you because of the whole diabolical with Crystal," he points out.

"Oh, I know she is, she hates that some of her and Dad's friends saw it. They wouldn't shut up about it when I got home," you whisper between the two of you as you cross the threshold into the Club.

You stop in the lobby with your parents a few feet ahead at the hostess podium with Sarah's parents and Topper's mom. You spot Rafe at the bar with a scotch in hand, Sarah nowhere to be seen. If she managed to get out of this dinner you'll be royally pissed, mainly jealous.

"Where were you last night anyway?" Rhett’s brows scrunch together.

"After Topper dropped me off I went over to Sarah's," you lie without a hint of hesitation.

"What?" He frowns in confusion. "But after lunch Rafe, Kelce, and I went back to his house? Rafe said Sarah was with that John B kid.”

"Yeah, I picked Sarah up before you guys got there and we hung out for a little bit. After, I dropped her off at John B's," you conjure up as you go.

"So then where did you sleep?" Rhett inquires, pressing further.

"On Mars, Rhett!” You snap, much to your brother’s surprise. “Jesus, Mary, and the damn camel," you curse under your breath.

"Why do you swear all of a sudden? It's not polite, especially in this setting," he hisses between his teeth, checking around for any prying eyes.

"Because maybe I've lost my marbles or PMSing, you pick," you bite back quietly.

"Whatever, I'm going to go grab a drink," he huffs, holding his hands up in surrender. "You should do the same," he suggests before disappearing toward the bar and lounge.

You linger in your spot, observing your fellow Kooks go about their business in their fancy dinner attire. You honestly wonder if some of them ever leave the Club or if they keep closets in the locker rooms.

“One gin and tonic,” Topper announces as he appears beside you with two glasses.

“God, I love you," you mumble, taking the drink from him and immediately taking a sip.

He rubs his hand up and down your bare arm. “You seem tense."

“I’m practically in a corset!" You roll your eyes.

“You look amazing,” he compliments with a charming smile.

“Thanks...” You sigh, unsure of where you two stand.

After this afternoon, after... well... everything said, you don't know the dynamic between you and Topper. Despite the uncertainty, you still depend on him to get you through this dinner. You feel as though your only friends at the table are Topper and Sarah, and even those two don't like each other.

“Geez Topper...” You huff in disapproval.

“Sorry! But you gotta admit it’s not exactly the Four Seasons...” He chuckles.

“Hey Y/N!” Sarah greets, appearing from the bathroom. “Where did you get here?”

“Minutes ago and I’m already over it,” you grumble.

“If you need a ride to John B’s, he’s picking me up after,” she offers.

You exhale deeply, glancing between her and Topper, unsure of what to say. Yes, you have plans with JJ, but you also aren’t confident in speaking about it in front of Topper.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it. I might want to run home first or something,” you satisfy her and remain vague.

“Topper! Y/N! Sarah!” Your dad waves you guys over as the hostess prepares to seat you all.

“I’ll see you guys out there, I’m going to grab a drink!” Sarah announces before dismissing herself.

You and Topper begin toward the doors leading out to the patio, a few yards behind your families.

“Kelce is after a party later, would you maybe wanna come with me?” Topper offers with a smirk.

“I’m supposed to..." You catch yourself before you mention JJ. "Maybe for a little bit.”

“You’re supposed to meet him?” Topper predicts correctly, making you awkwardly take a sip of your drink and avoid his gaze. “Maybe if you drink enough you’ll start seeing two and The Cut wouldn’t look like utter shit," Topper insults passive-aggressively.

“I’ll come and have a drink, but that’s all!" You agree to go with Topper to the Kelce's reluctantly. "I don’t want anything that Rafe has up his sleeve.”

“Noted," Topper gives you a reassuring smile.

"Wait," you halt, giving Topper's arm a slight squeeze. You feel the overwhelming need to speak with Topper for a second before you all gather around a table like one big interconnected family. "Do you know?”

“About what?” The boy frowns in confusion. You glance over at your family anxiously, watching everyone disappear onto the patio outside. Topper takes your hand in his and turns to you. “Y/N, what is it?”

“That our parents practically have the wedding favors picked out," you rush out nervously, unable to fully believe that this is your reality.

Topper exhales deeply, his eyes falling to the floor. He does know. “My mom has made some interesting passive comments lately," he nods. "I suspected but I wasn’t positive.”

“My mom spoke to me before we got here," you describe, checking around the room for any eavesdroppers. "She wanted me to gloat, hang on you, and basically show the Camerons that we’re... I don’t even know...” You shake your head frantically.

“Together,” Topper finishes your sentence.

“It sounds so ancient but ‘promised to each other,’" you explain in greater detail. "It’s insane! I mean, we’re only in high school!”

"You don’t have to do anything!” He comes up with a game plan to get you both through the evening. “Let’s just continue as we have been. They’ll be satisfied and we won’t be losing our willpower.”

“Okay,” you swallow hard with a faint nod.

“It’ll be okay," Topper reaches up and cups your cheek comfortingly, peering into your eyes. He leans forward, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

__________________________________

Well into the evening, Kelce's house is packed to the brim with teenage Kooks and some tourons that snuck their way in. Music blasts from the speakers in the ceiling and water from the pool are scattered across the tile living room. Everyone's in their bathing suits, traveling in and out of the water. Cups litter the floor and various conversations overwhelm the ears. On the balcony, you find yourself leaning against the railing watching people jump off the roof into the pool below as Topper does lines with Rafe on the coffee table just a few feet away. Your bare stomach exposed by your bikini presses against the cool glass railing, keeping you awake.

"Come on, Princess!" Rafe waves you over, overtly intoxicated. "Got enough for you!"

“I don’t want anything Rafe!” You remind him.

“You will," he chuckles, not believing you for a second. "Once you start drinking you always do. You could just skip the innocent act and let yourself go.”

Topper rises from his seated position and walks over to join you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as he leans against the rail. He sniffs a few times, making sure all of the coke remains inside.

“One more drink and we’re leaving,” you tell Topper quietly between the two of you.

"I know," he nods, planting a kiss on your temple. “We’ll go.”

You turn toward, peering down at the people as they mess around in the pool. Topper stands behind you, his arms gripping the railing on either side of you. His chest presses to your back as he leans down and plants a kiss to your neck. You tilt your head to the side, granting him better access, causing him to smile against your skin. You’re not sure why you get this way with him when you drink. You’ve thought it over a million times over the years. Is it because it’s what you soberly want but are too afraid to admit? Or, is it because it’s a way to let go? Either way, you and Topper become insufferable whenever you two get too deep, which why you refuse to do anything. If you get any deeper... well... Bermuda is a prime example.

1 hour later....

The drinks slip by you and you quickly lose track of the number. Tequila shots, margarita mix, gin, and coke, everything's mixed. The music has become louder, the colored lights have become brighter, your senses are doing their best to remain active, but your mind is fading. You love this feeling, not having a care in the world. The weight that your parents have placed on your shoulders has long disappeared. Half an hour ago, you and Topper were sharing a joint with Kelce on the roof and now you two are caught in a beer pong tournament.You're slowly starting to lose interest in the game, eager to jump off the roof into the pool as you've seen daredevils do all night.

"Come on, Top! Please!" You tug on the boy's arm, pleading with him again to jump off the roof with you.

He does his best to focus on the game at hand, the ball in his hand to take a shot. He squeezes your hand and brings it to his lips for a quick peck. "One second, Baby."

Drunkenly, you rest your forehead against his bicep, waiting for him to take his shot. Topper tosses the ball, making it into the final cup and the rules call for no redemption.

“We win!” Topper cheers, causing you to lift your head. Again! The champions!”

“Woohoo!” You giggle, raising your cup in the air.

Topper wraps his arms around your waist and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he spins you. He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jawline as he peers up at you. Staring into his eyes, you two are so immersed in each other that you get carried away and your lips meet. Neither of you is in the right mind to comprehend it, but this is a pattern. You two get intoxicated on a mixture of alcohol and drugs and your natural touchy friendship gets an intensity boost.

Kelce whistles at the sight of you, urging you guys on. “They act like they’re not together, then they do that!” He not so well whispers to Rafe.

"Same shit, different night," Rafe grumbles, clearly jealous. He silently wishes he was Topper. He would give anything to have a chance with you. “I wonder how Rhett would feel learning his sister is a slut for his best friend.”

Kelce shoves him on the shoulder. “Don’t be an ass. Besides, Rhett knows Topper has a thing for her.”

“But does Y/N have a thing for him or is it just sex?” Rhett challenges, watching you two and hating it.

Topper lets you down as your lips part. His hands slip down your waist to rest on your ass, giving it a slight squeeze. You bite down on your lower lip, your attention on Topper's smirk.

“Hey Top!" Rafe pulls Topper's attention and tosses him a metal canister. "For you my friend!"

Topper pops open the old Altoids container to reveal a pile of color tabs. "Aw no," Topper laughs, tossing his head back.

“Woah woah woah!" You place your hand over Topper's before has the chance to even think about taking anything. You glare at Rafe, "what is that?”

“Candy,” Rafe snickers sarcastically. He rises from his seat position and stands before you, taking the tin from Topper. “Here take one," the boy offers with raised brows.

You push the container back to Rafe. “No, I said I didn’t want to do anything tonight!”

Beside you, Topper reaches into the container, selects a square piece carefully with the provided tweezers, and places the rainbow paper on his tongue.

“Try it, Princess,” Rafe pressures with a smirk.

You glance between Rafe and Topper. The blonde gives you a wink. "You'll feel good," he assures you, rubbing his hand up and down your spine slowly.

You think it over for a second to the best of your ability. You said you wouldn't do anything hard tonight, but you also don't want to sober up anytime soon. You feel too good. You wish you felt this way all the time. You love yourself when you're carefree. On a whim, you give in and pick up the tweezers to select a piece. You place the bit on your tongue, earning a mischievous smirk from Rafe and words from approval from Topper. You don't know much about what Rafe does, but you know from watching that it takes a while for stuff like this to kick in, so you wait.

Thirty minutes later...

After taking swim minutes ago, you and Topper seek some privacy away from the party antics to dry off. You two travel up to the third floor of the house in the dark, this part of the house practically untouched by the people below. You shuffle along the floor in the hall in search of the balcony. You nearly trip of the runner, but Topper catches you by the waist.

“Oh shit!” You gasp. Abruptly, Topper squats down and tucks his arm under your legs. You fly up and he begins to carry you bridal style. “Topper!” You giggle.

“Like a proper princess, let me carry you up the tower!” He jokes.

“You’re ridiculous!” You laugh as Topper navigates his way through Kelce's room toward the screen door leading outside.

You tilt your head back, letting your hair flow as Topper carries you out onto the balcony. The night breeze and salty scent of the ocean fill your senses. Whatever Rafe gave you is immaculate. You've never felt so connected to the world before. Suddenly, Topper releases you, letting you fall onto one of those massive round loungers with a squeal. You lay back onto the lounger, pondering the sensation of the soft fabric beneath you.

“You’re exquisite,” Topper admires, towering over you with a gawking look on his face.

You prop yourself up on your elbows with a smirk. "You too."

Topper plops down beside you, sliding to be close to your side. His fingertips glide up and down your arm. “How are you feeling?”

Your eyes fall shut with a grin. “Like I’m on a cloud," you describe in a whisper as you ponder the sensation of his warm fingers on your cool skin. “You feel on fire. So warm...”

“Do you like it?” He asks in a whisper and you can feel the warm breath wave over your cheek.

You hum, focusing on every detail of his touch. You exhale deeply as Topper brushes his lips across your collar bone and planting a kiss on your skin.

“Do you regret us?” He whispers. You don't see it, but Topper watches you intently with a softly broken expression. He hopes you don't. God, does he want to beg you to be his, only his.

You shake your head, breathless. "No."

Glad to say the least, Topper moves his attention to your neck, kissing and sucking hard on the sensitive skin. His hand roams your waist down to your inner thigh, making you inhale sharply. Your back arches off the lounger and toward his hand between your legs. You crave to feel more of him.

“Are you sure?” He checks quietly in your ear.

“Yes,” you exhale, too overwhelmed by the pleasure growing inside you to focus on his questions.

As you kisses Topper, you chase the sensation he’s giving you. You're addicted to the way he makes you feel. Topper's lips travel down from your jawline to your chest. The memories of winter break, Bermuda, every intense moment you and Topper have ever shared are your driving force right now. As Topper leaves a trail of affection down your collarbone to your chest, he begins to untie your bikini. Then, your thoughts fixate on JJ. His face flickers across your mind. Physically, you want Topper, but all you can think about is JJ. You wonder where he is, what he's doing, if he's thinking about you.

You're so far into your own thoughts that your body goes through the motions subconsciously. You're partially distracted by your thoughts of JJ, but the drugs and alcohol also cloud your mind. You're not entirely sure how things escalated, but deep down you're not shocked. It's you and Topper, you've never been fully satisfied when it comes to one another. You can't help but to feel everything, pondering the glorious and overwhelming pleasure as Topper thrusts into you.

You bite down on her lip, restricting yourself from accidentally whispering JJ’s name. “Topper,” you pant, focusing.

“Say it again, Beautiful,” Topper pants, planting a kiss to your chest as he picks up his pace.

“Please Topper,” you whisper breathlessly.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he grunts, finding himself getting closer with each syllable leaving your lips.

Topper is your greatest addiction. He’s everything you're supposed to want. He’s utterly devoted to you and secretly you crave his attention. You roll your hips, making him go deeper inside of you, much to his surprise.

“Fuck Y/N,” he moans in your ear.

“Holy shit,” you mutter uncontrollably.

“You always feel so good," Topper swallows hard. "I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

Your nails graze down his back, knowing how much he loves that. “Keep going, I’m so close,” you plead, needing him closer though you know that's impossible.

“That’s it, Beautiful," Topper guides. "Cum for me,” he demands more than requests.

“Yes, Topper!" You moan, chasing the high. "Yes!”

“You’re gonna make me cum,” Topper whispers against the skin of your neck and planting a kiss on your jawline.

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze. The moment is intimate and draws you two together. You nod, staring into his eyes. “Cum for me."

You feel Topper finish inside you, a sensation you've experienced almost a dozen times, but it's never enough. Knowing that you can make Topper feel so free and satisfied sometimes keeps you awake at night. Topper settles down on the lounger next to you, panting.

You glance at one another, meeting each other's gaze as you catch your breath. You two laugh, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Wow!” Topper chuckles.

You raise your brows, in awe. “I know."

“And I thought we wouldn’t outdo Bermuda,” he recalls.

“I swear Bermuda was the Twilight Zone or something," you giggle. "I only remember flashes of it.”

Topper's eyes grow wide and he places his hand over yours. “Do you remember when we found Rafe with that Brazilian chick!”

“Oh my God!" You gasp, turning onto your side to face him. "They were on that nasty leather couch that Kelce spilled the grenadine all over!”

“We were off our asses most of the time,” Topper remembers, pulling you into his side. His arm wraps around you like a protective blanket.

“Facts, we didn’t see Rafe or Kelce for most of it," you add with a snicker. "I think my brother slept out by the pool every night."

“I honestly don’t even remember Rhett after the plane landing," Topper confesses, his eyes flicker up to the stary sky. "Plane lands, a week goes by no recollection of Rhett, see Rhett on the plane.”

“You’re kidding!” You gasp.

“Dead serious! I swear we left him at the airport,” Topper elaborates with a wide grin.

“He carried you home from the bar that third night!” You remind him.

His eyes grow wide, utterly surprised. “I thought that was you!”

“How could it have been me?!” You swiftly counter, laughing harder than you have in a while.

“That’s why I was so confused!” He reasons.

“You’re insane!” You struggle to say between fits of laughter.

You two share in your laughter, not having had a moment like this in a while. You guys have had so much going on that the last time you truly felt at peace together and free to let go was Bermuda. Had you known that coming home would've meant the end of your two's peace of mind, you're not sure if you would've left. You rest your cheek against his chest, settling in comfortably.

“I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us this way,” he confesses softly.

“I forgot how good it could be,” you admit with a content smile.

Topper glides his fingertips up and down your spine. “Well, I guess that proves it then.”

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest to meet his gaze. “Proves what?”

“It’s JJ,” Topper sighs, giving you a knowing look.

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. Swiftly, you shuffle through your memories of minutes before, did you say JJ's name? You're almost certain you didn't. You did everything in your power not to. “What do you mean?”

“I can tell," he shrugs, bringing a hand up to brush your hair away from your face. "It felt great but also different than before. I knew when I had you. I don’t anymore.”

Your eyes fall to your hand resting on his chest, avoiding his gaze. He caresses your cheek lovingly, despite knowing the truth. “I’m sorry, Topper...” you mumble, full of guilt.

“It’s okay," he tries to reassure you. "You can love two people at the same time, just in their own way.”

"I just..." you sit up, frustrated and unable to fully put into words what you're struggling with. Topper sits up beside you, rubbing your back. "When I'm with JJ I'm this one person and when I'm with you I'm completely different! I'm not sure which one is the real me."

"You don't have to have all answers, just take it day by day," he advises reasonably. "Right now, let's just forget everything else and be here. Nothing can bother us here."

You exhale deeply and Topper guides you to lay back down. You two stare up at the sky in each other's arms, the faint sounds of the party below not invading either of your minds. The warm night's air breezes by, coating you in a shield of peace.

“Do you think ten years from now we’ll still be doing this?” Topper wonders.

“Kinda wanna be married by then,” you giggle.

“I know, I’d be your side hoe,” he clarifies.

You swat him on the arm. “Topper!”

“What!” He laughs.

“You can’t plan on cheating on your future wife!” You argue playfully.

“But it’s you, you don’t count!" He reasons. "It’s the Y/N Hall Pass. My wife is wife, obviously my life partner, but you’re... well you’re you," he adds gently, unsure how to describe it.

“Wow, that’s real flattering,” you joke.

“You know what I mean!" He rolls his eyes but struggles to hide his amusement. "You know that movie you made me watch last month uh... My Best Friend’s Wedding!” He remembers. You hum, of course, you do, you love that movie. Topper continues, “well, you’re my Julia Roberts.”

“You want me to try to break up your wedding?” You question, wondering where he's going with this.

“No, no! Well... if you really think she’s not the one but that’s beside the point," he shakes his head. "I’m talking about what Cameron Diaz said in that elevator scene.”

“He’s got you on a pedestal and me in his arms,” you quote, predicting his intention.

Topper tucks his finger under your chin, making you lift your head to meet his gaze. His eyes pour into yours with such intensity, you know he means whatever he's going to say with the utmost certainty. “No one can compete with you, Y/N. Whoever I end up marrying, if I end marrying anyone, they’ll have to be okay that.”

You lean forward, gently pressing a kiss to Topper's lips. You're not sure if it'll be your last one, but either way, it reminds you of a farewell or closing note. Topper deepens the kiss, bringing his hand to the back of your head, pulling you in. It carries more passion and longing than any other kiss you two have shared, and you've kissed a lot over the years.

After a couple of minutes under the stars, you and Topper agree that it's time to return to the party before anyone comes searching for you.

"Wasn't a bad last hoorah if you ask me," Topper concludes as he helps you tie up your top.

You spin on your heels to face him, bringing your arms to rest on his shoulders. "We really went out with a bang, pun intended."

"If he ever breaks your heart, I'm first in line," he winks, bringing his hands to your waist.

You lift your hand to his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. "I want you to be happy, even if that's not with me."

He scoffs, holding back his emotions. "Why does it feel like we're breaking up?" He tries to laugh it off.

"In a way, we are..." You admit, causing Topper to look at you with surprise. He hadn't expected you to agree, though deep down, he hoped you would.

He slips his head to the side and presses a kiss to your palm before lowering your hand to rest within his. "I'm slowly coming to terms that it may not be you, though I always imagined it was. I sorta feel like I'm starting from scratch. Whenever I envisioned my future, it was with you. Now, the face is blank. I have no idea what's going to happen," he confesses with a breathless laugh, a hint of worry behind the sound.

"How exciting!" You encourage.

"Always the optimist," Topper chuckles, before draping an arm across your shoulders and guiding you toward the doors. "Us ending up together would've been too easy anyway. I hate being predictable," he frowns in disgust.

"Agreed, far too simple," you nod.

Topper pauses before the door leading out to the hallway. Once you two leave the safety of the third floor, this time you've had alone will be over. Things will never be the same once you close this chapter. Topper peers down at you, longing to tell you. “You know I’ll always be there for you, right?”

You nod slowly, certain of his words. “Me too, Topper.”

He leans down, planting a long kiss on your forehead and you can feel the struggle behind the action. Everything about this is bittersweet. “I love you."

“I love you too," you whisper.

_________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:@starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things @hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

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selinakidreams · 3 years

Note

Hello my love can i please request that you follow up on this lovely work of art you deposited in my ask box? Ty ty

oh oh oh what is this? the lovely carter (and val- in spirit) dropping in my inbox and requesting for me (???????) to write,,,,,,,,,,, I’m honored and will happily accept.

I am so so so so so sorry this took me so long to write,, it’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks,,,, I hope this makes up for it 🥺 I tweaked it a bit and I think it works,,, better now ? hopefully !!

warnings: this is smutty, SLIGHT voyerism, dubcon turned to con, p♥︎rn with like.. a dash of plot ? maybe ?, fem! reader, thigh riding, uh riding dick right after, LIGHT MENTIONS of fwb! Osamu,, ah ha haa — NO INCEST.

Dinners with the Miyas: a weekly tradition since... before you could remember. Once a week, you and your family would gather at the Miya’s house for a homemade feast.

In hindsight, it was a really nice way for two life-long best friends, both of your guys’ moms, and their loved ones to get together and catch up after a busy week- but as a girl dealing with a pair of twins a year older than herself, it was absolute hell.

At first, you used to despise having to get properly dressed just to eat dinner with your family friends. All that effort and for what? You see them all the time at school already, what’s so special about coming together for dinner once a week? And honestly, you were just going to get dirtied up anyways. Their beautiful blooming garden was calling your name and who were you to deny it?

You’d often find yourself frolicking among the tall blades of grass and colorful flowers, the wind swaying the plants to and fro. It was so calming to sit and watch the bees buzz around and pollinate. Needless to say, this is the boys’ cue to come into the picture; they always ruined your fun. The twins started growing into... boys, meaning they were an absolute nuisance.

It all started on a gloomy day; it had rained a few hours prior to the meetup and the Miya’s garden was- of course- muddy, but you just couldn’t resist. You tried to be as careful as you could, especially after the continuous complaints from your mother about how dirty you were when you showed up to the dinner table, but somebody decided to sabotage that.

A cold, wet slab of goop slapped you square in the face. With eyes growing wide, you turned to the culprit. An obnoxious laugh left Atsumu Miya’s mouth and in the same breath managed to call you ugly. You didn’t know what to do besides look down; you felt tears prick your lash line and you didn’t want that bully of a boy to see you cry. When you lifted your gaze to find the back door to run to, you paused upon seeing more mud flying through the air- only it wasn’t at you this time. It’s target was Atsumu- the launcher, Osamu. Finishing the embarrassing blow, the twin pointedly said the same phrase that was spat at you, before turning to you and apologizing for his idiot brother’s actions. Needless to say, after that Osamu Miya became your knight in shining armor.

As the years pass, they started to come over to your house more. When the boys were in your room, they (mainly the more wide-eyed, now blonde-haired, insatiably curious one) poked and prodded where their gazes didn’t belong. Osamu always tried his hardest to reil his brother in, attempting to put things back and apologizing every once in a while.it was painfully easy to realize that your perspective about him about him shifted; The politeness. The calm. The sensibility. He was kind and considerate. Your view on Osamu began to change into something of want, and oddly enough, it wasn’t pure.

You and osamu grew closer in ways you weren’t expecting; he was your first sexual everything. First kiss, first touch, first fuck- and with every intimate moment you both shared, the level of respect and maturity was extremely high. There was only one issue, whatever one miya wanted, the other wanted it just as bad.

Atsumu’s gaze on you lasted longer and longer, his tricks were getting more and more perverse- anything he could do to cause a little mischief and ripen the sexual tension he began to build between the two of you. But even the kiddie wrestling matches, flipping up your skirt, and lingering touches became boring; none of his little teases seemed to satisfy him anymore.

He was jealous. He had to be. Osamu never boasted, much less muttered a single word about what you two did when you were alone but Atsumu wasn’t dumb. He knew one of the Miya’s were getting their dick wet and it certainly wasn’t him. He was becoming impatient, but to you, he seemed really on edge- so much so, that one night you found yourself in one of the most compromising positions with the honey-haired idiot.

The three of you were chatting about the twins’ most recent volleyball match in your room, waiting for your moms’ wine induced giggles to subside and finnish the food already.

With lit up eyes, Atsumu was boasting about how they’d achieved their first quick when Osamu pardoned himself so he could use the restroom.

“AWHH ‘SAMU, YOURE GONNA MISS THE BEST PART.” Tsumu loudly whined.

“i was there, idiot. just keep telling her the story, i’ll be back.” he rolled his eyes before leaving the room.

He sucked his teeth before turning to you to continue the story only to find your eyes glued to find Osamu’s fleeting figure. You looked almost dazed out and Atsumu couldn’t believe it. Right in front of his eyes, you were eye-fucking his twin brother instead of listening to him.

Absolutely not.

Part of you should not be surprised. You looked away for just a few seconds- just enough for Atsumu to be annoyed that the attention wasn’t on him. Now you found yourself pinned to the floor, both wrists in one of his big hands, the other holding your hips down. You let out a squeal as you tried squirming out of his grasp.... that was until his knee firmly placed itself against your crotch in just the right place. You swear up and down that you didn’t mean to but there was a surprised gasp that shouldn’t have left your mouth. It almost sounded like... the thought stilled your body.

atsumu took note of this.

In a low murmur, he leaned incredibly close and whispered, “how’s that pretty pussy of yers feelin right now?”

It sent a violent pink tinge to your cheeks and a bolt of arousal down your spine, your slick spreading against your underwear and the top of his jeanclad knee. A clench of your thighs meant this was going exactly where he wanted it to- his wait was over.

“ ‘m waiting for an answer, princess.” he tutted, his face only getting closer to yours while he applied more pressure against your throbbing vulva.

It was never like this with ‘samu. This... was almost exciting for you. Something teetering the lines of flavorful and troublesome. The little voice in your head was screaming at you but the aching desire in your pussy was louder.

“Ah!- atsumu! what are you doing?” you whimper, trying to hide your face. There were so many thoughts racing through your mind, the logical part of you wanted to hear them all out but in the moment you were so overwhelmed. There needed to be control in such a situation; You tried to shift around to loosen his grip, accidentally applying pressure that was welcoming it the most, causing a breathy moan to escape your lips and your eyes to clamp shut.

“mmm well, you’re so focused on my brother, i thought i’d show you what you were missin if you started payin more attention to me.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and you whine. This position was so compromising.

He trailed the hand that weighed down your waist up the curves of your side and took your jaw in his hand. He turned your face and when you peeked open your eyes, your gaze was met with his.

“I want you to cum on my thigh.”

Eyes wide, you tried shaking your head to no avail. His grip was so strong. “Atsumu no!! Osamu’s gonna get back and dinner is gonna be done soon and just- no!” You squeal.

“Y’still have time,” he said calmly, “ ‘samu’s probably checkin on dinner... so yeh better start... or else. Y’know what? I could just continue this though dinner. Slide my hand up ye’thigh under the table...” he started, letting go of your face and ghosting his hand down your body. The thought of his big hands palming over your clit while a finger is dipped into your warm pool flashed in your mind. You clenched, and boy, he felt it.

“Mmm, did my pretty girl think about my fingers- fingers that could reach places yours can’t?” He grinned as he watched you follow his hand with your eyes. “maybe you’d like it if i play with your clit under the table, hm? right next to my brother-”

“no no! here. right now.” is all you could manage to get out. your head was swimming with all that could happen, it only got hazier when you felt the pressure on your cunt lessen- you wanted it back. “Ts-sumu.. i..”

“i know, i know... but first i want you to cum on my thigh if you want my fingers that badly. I want you whiny and desperate, rubbing that pretty cunt all over me. Moaning my name.”

That’s how you found yourself stuffed in your small closet, you desk chair pulled away from its rightful place,

With his throbbing cock fighting against the cage of his pants and heavy pants leaving his lips, his hands could only find relief on your waist- assisting you in your delishious movements.

His noises weren’t the only ones to be heard, you were trying so hard to contain them but nothing is coming of it. Short little high pitched whines rung in Atsumu s ears- but what really got him were the whimpers of “fuck tsumi,” when the angle hit your clit just right and the squeeze of his biceps as you threw your head back. As soon as he experienced that, he needed you to cum right then and there. And not on his thigh.

“Nope- fuck, we’re switching it up,” he mumbled as he stopped your hips from grinding down. Your mind was a mess but all you could think about in your extremely aroused state was that you needed to cum.

“Atsumu wh-“ before you could even finish your question, he unzipped his pants and uncovered himself from his boxers, his angry cockhead slapping his torso and smearing pre-cum on his skin.

“On- now, Princess.”

There was no need for protests; he was expecting one to come out but instead he felt your soft hands lightly grip his bulging head and give a few strokes before all he heard in that cramped, dark closet was, “you’re so .. big.”

Eyes wide, a garbled moan left his mouth and next thing he knew, you were repositioning till his tip lined with your sopping entrance. He couldn’t take it, he thrusted upward as you sunk down. A shocked moan ripped out of both of you and in the moment of silence that followed afterwards, you could hear the floorboard creek.

Apparently Atsumu did too because his actions stopped and one of his hands left your hips to presumably cover your mouth. You presumed wrong.

Your closet door slid open to reveal a wide eyed Osamu palming himself.

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

Text

volunteering at its finest : s.r

spencer ‘volunteers’ to babysit henry whilst you and the girls have a needed girls night, except the night lasts a lot longer than any of you anticipated (2.2k)

* also i have an etsy shop where i sell some criminal minds tote bags and prints. if you wanna check it out i’ll leave the link here (i’ve also got a labour day sale happening rn til the 8th!) *

“Please do not tell me you’ve forgotten about girls night that I’ve had in my calendar for the last five weeks?” Penelope focuses on JJ through the monitor who slowly lowers her phone before glancing over to you.

“I, I didn’t forget,” JJ starts, causing both you and Emily to hold your laughs as she tries to ease her way out.

“You don’t sound so sure, J.” You comment, quickly feeling a rolled-up newspaper swatting your arm as you head towards the jet.

“It’s not that I forgot, it’s just the first time Will has been away in months and it just slipped my mind.” JJ tries to reason as you board the jet before you sit down opposite her and Emily, awaiting the wrath of Penelope Garcia once you return to base.

“What slipped your mind?” Spencer pitches in as he sits down beside you, a bright smile crossing his lips as you lean against him. “Hey,” He mutters to you, and JJ glances to Emily, still shocked that the pair of you owned up to your feelings six months ago after pining over one another for two years.

Patting Spencer’s arm lightly, you shrug it off. “Just girls night tonight.” You begin to explain, noticing Spencer furrowing his eyebrows together. “What?”

“I thought we were going to watch the Doctor Who marathon tonight?” He questions quietly, watching as a look of guilt consumes your expression.

“That was this today?” You weakly ask back as Spencer simply nods. “Oh, Spence,” You mutter, but Emily kindly butts in to save your ass once again.

“What if you watched it at JJ’s,” Emily begins, and you focus on her with a raised brow. “babysitting Henry?”

JJ scoffs lightly. “Spence, you’ve never babysat on your own before.” She looks over to the Godfather of her son, one of her best friends who could talk his way out of most things, but babysitting is another level.

“What? I could easily do it.” Spencer states proudly, forcing himself to sit taller in his seat as Rossi glances over, lowering the case file from his view. “I’ve watched Home Alone with Y/n, I know exactly what not to do. And I’ve read sixteen books on parenting.” He quickly adds, and Emily quips an eyebrow to you.

“I didn’t know that.” You mutter under your breath, just as JJ laughs playfully at Spencer’s antics.

“Just let the kid babysit, he clearly wants to.” Rossi pitches in, and Spencer smiles brightly at Rossi’s reassurance.

“Think of girls night.” Emily chuckles, and JJ looks over to you with concern before focusing back to Spencer, nodding to the proposition. “It’ll only be a couple of hours.” Emily quickly adds, and Spencer grins brightly.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Spencer nudges your side as JJ shakes her head, wondering what she’s about to let lose.

***

“I still can’t get over the fact Spence offered,” Penelope states as she brings over your drinks to the table, placing them down as you eye Emily who shrugs her shoulders.

“Spencer is a good guy like that,” Emily snickers, and you nudge her playfully before sipping your drink.

As you swallow, you can’t help but cough and widen your eyes to Penelope who happily downs her cocktail. “Shit, Pen, what is in this? Battery acid?” You remark, sniffing it as JJ sips hers, quickly having the same reaction.

“No,” Penelope shakes her head as a scoff leaves her lips. “but it is called ‘Poison Ivy.’”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as Emily downs the last of her previous drink, slamming the glass down before heading back to the bar. “Anyone want another one? I saw there’s a deal on certain drinks.” Emily calls out, not giving any of you a chance to answer before she disappears to the bar.

“God, if Spencer was here he’d happily list off some facts about the DC character Poison Ivy.” You sigh, wondering how he’s managing with little Henry.

“I’m sure he’s doing fine, Y/n.” Penelope reaches out, and you nod. “How’re you holding up Jayj?”

Turning your head, you see JJ finishing off the remainder of your drink as she places it next to her empty glass.

“What?” JJ slurs, lifting her head up as her eyes cloud over.

“Yeah, I think JJ has past worried and is in denial.” You mutter to Penelope who wisely nods in agreement.

Emily quickly returns with more drinks which JJ gladly accepts. “So, Y/n,” Emily rests her elbows on the table, focusing directly on you as you swallow the lump in your throat. “when are you going to tell us about the good Doctor huh?” She jokes and you laugh lightly, taking one of the four shots.

Placing the empty shot glass down, you wince as the burn descends down your throat. “Maybe after four more of these,” You cough, and Emily signals to the bartender to bring a few more rounds.

“Come on, we gotta get into the taxi,” Penelope tries her best to take charge as you help JJ to her feet along with Emily who is as much help as Spencer with his gun.

“Pen, can you take Emily? I’ll help JJ.” Despite still being drunk, you can focus on Penelope long enough to see only two of her as she nods and a blur of colour crosses your vision.

JJ’s head hits your shoulder, and you hear her hum. “Y/n?” JJ slurs and you hold her head up as you reach the exit to the bar, seeing the taxi feet away.

“It’s okay, J, the taxi isn’t far.” You rub her arm as she shakes her head and quickly darts out of your arms and hauls her body against a wall as she vomits violently.

“God, least I’m not that bad.” Emily laughs, unaware of who is being sick until JJ lifts herself back up, swaying back into your direction as she wipes her face. “Oh, hey JJ.” Emily waves as JJ groans loudly before climbing into the taxi after you.

“Where to ladies?” The driver speaks up as the doors are finally closed, and Penelope fastens her seatbelt in beside the driver.

You completely zone out as Penelope gives the driver her address, and miss the ringing of your phone. Little do you know, that missed call would become the first of many throughout the rest of the night - not that you’d know until sunrise.

“Thank you, Craig!” Penelope waves the driver off as you laugh hysterically with Emily about something Spencer once did during a date he organised.

“He just, he was so sweet, but got it so wrong,” You wipe your eyes as tears fall whilst Penelope helps JJ up the stairs as you and Emily trail behind. “I just didn’t have the heart to tell him I had no interest in seeing Twilight, only Robert Pattinson.” You sigh, remembering how excited he was to take you to the cinema to see something not only in English but current.

“Spencer means well, I think his big ol’ brain gets in the way sometimes.” Emily comments as you reach Penelope’s apartment, barely having the chance to take it all in before you’re given a wine glass that’s being filled.

“Oh, Pen I can’t.” You whine, feeling a headache already in the works, but Penelope Garcia is not one to take no for an answer- especially on girls night.

“Let me ask you, ladies,” Penelope starts, and now you wish you just kept quiet. “when was our last girls night?”

Penelope watches as you all exchange glances, no one knowing the answer. “Like, a year ago?” Emily guesses, receiving a quick scoff from Penelope.

“Two and a half years ago.” Penelope states. “We’ve had team nights out, but not a girls night.” She adds as Emily collapses onto the sofa whilst maintaining a full glass of wine. “So, I’m making up for lost time,” Penelope lifts her glass up as she looks around at the three of you, just about hanging in there. “to the ladies of the BAU.”

With a cheer, your night carries on with more laughter and embarrassing memories whilst Spencer is having less of an enjoyable evening with his godson.

“Y/n, this is the tenth message I’ve left you after leaving fifteen to JJ, five to Emily and twenty-six to Garcia. You better not have died on me as I’ve rung every hospital in the district and have had Kevin hack Garcia’s phone to find her location.” Spencer sighs as he paces around the living room whilst Henry remains sound asleep in his bed.

Part of Spencer knows he’s being irrational, but it isn’t like you to not even answer a text let alone a phone call. He’s so used to you being on hand whenever- especially with the line of work you both do. So when you don’t answer, he can’t help but allow his mind to spiral into the dark depths of misfortune.

Glancing out of the window, Spencer could tell without looking at a clock it was almost sunrise. Approximately 5:37 in the morning and you along with the others were nowhere to be seen.

With a small sigh, Spencer dials your number once more, only to hear movement outside of JJ’s house and he tenses.

Reaching over into his satchel, Spencer grabs his gun as he hides by the living room door, hearing movement of the front door opening as hushed voices sound throughout the hallway.

“God, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?” You wince at the thought of Spencer scolding you for not getting back to him after you reviewed the dozens of messages and voicemails when you woke up twenty minutes ago.

JJ wraps her arms around you, bringing you into a hug but also to stabilise herself to stop the room spinning. “Spencer couldn’t possibly hate you, Y/n.” She assures you, seeing Spencer peer his head out from the corner of the living room and lower his gun. “That boy loves you more than you realise.”

Pulling away from JJ’s embrace, you sigh deeply into your hands. “I love him J, I just worry sometimes.” You mutter, unaware of Spencer standing behind you as his heart sinks.

“You should tell him, Y/n.” JJ motions and you tense up, silently swearing before you turn around to face your rather tired looking boyfriend. “I’ll go check on Henry.” JJ mutters, quickly passing you both and heads up the stairs with caution.

“I could never hate you, Y/n.” Spencer starts, “I was just worried about you and your safety.” He explains as he reaches out, resting his hand on your upper arm. “Did you have fun?”

A small laugh leaves your lips as you nod. “Yeah,” You chuckle, focusing on the tired look in his hazel eyes. “I, I love you Spence.” You tell him as you fall into his arms, exhaustion beginning to take over your body as Spencer’s chuckle vibrates against your body.

“I love you too, Y/n. Come on, you need to get some sleep.” Spencer guides you to the living room and you fall down with ease onto the couch. “Did you know the human body requires at least-”

Holding a finger up to Spencer, he pauses. “Spence, as much as I adore you and your facts, they are the last thing I need right now.”

“Alright,” Spencer gives in as he pulls a blanket over you, ignoring the smudged and dried mascara beneath your eyes and the lingering smell of cocktails on your clothing. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He mutters as he wanders out to make some coffee, knowing you’d need it once you woke back up.

“This is hell.” You state as you heavily lean against the railing alongside the girls whilst voices cheer around you, including Spencer. “I blame you, Pen.”

Penelope merely groans as she pushes her sunglasses further up her face.

“A couple of hours! No big deal!” Spencer emphasises as you roll your eyes, burying your face in your hands once again as he carries on cheering for the runners as they pass you all by in a blur. “You weren’t home until sunrise!”

“Why are you yelling.” JJ comments flatly whilst Derek glances over, holding his laugh in as he keeps Jack on his shoulders.

“Make him stop.” Emily adds, and you nudge your boyfriend as he stops waving his flag frantically and focuses on you.

“Next time, I’m either joining you in babysitting or you’re joining girls night.” You tell Spencer who smiles down at you before wrapping an arm around you, holding you close as you weakly smile through the pain of your hangover.

“Deal.” Spencer leans down, kissing you softly before the cheers of your team increase as Hotch reaches the finish line. “Come on, I think breakfast is in order.” Spencer guides you away from the railing as you rely on him heavily as the girls follow behind.

“Girls night happens every two years for a reason, I take it, baby girl?” Derek jokes as Penelope shushes him as you all gather around to celebrate Hotch’s achievement and block out the blur that last night has left on your memories.

“What happens on girls night, stays on girls night.” Penelope simply states, refusing to say anymore as you walk ahead with Spencer, discussing more about his latest read, ‘Parenting 101.’

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

Text

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

24/08/20

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Fallin in Love (Akaashi Keiji x Reader)

Anonymous said:

hello 😬 if ur taking requests rn, can i request akaashi who is in love with a nekoma manager since first yr and every training camp he tries flirts with her being the calm and confident king he is, but girl is too shy and she kinda clumsy

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Word Count: 2,048

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I love Akaashi with all my fucking heart😭😭😭 He will forever be one of my best boys. I hope I was able to write this how you wanted anon! Sorry for my shit writing lmao.

I’m slowly working my way through my requests while also working on some more content for you guys so stay tuned!

As always, please let me know what you think and I hope you guys have a good weekend!😘😘😘

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A soft smile twitched at Akaashi’s lips as he stared at you frantically apologizing to Yamamoto who was waving you off in a panic as well.

You had bumped into him, causing all the volleyballs in his arms to fall to the floor, bouncing away.

It was all accidental, an easy mistake that could be fixed, but the absolute horror and panic on your face made it seem like you had shot someone.

But it was just how you were. Similar to a squeaky, frantic mouse; incredibly cute and small; it was endearing.

You were endearing.

So despite how annoying training camps were; between Bokuto and Kuroo, and the endless practice matches, there was one thing - well one person - that he was looking forward to.

And that was you. He met you last year, at the annual training camp with all the powerhouse schools in Tokyo.

Looking back at it now, you were still just as shy and clumsy as you were now, maybe even more so back then. But you were still incredibly cute, incredibly beautiful, and sweet, that never changed.

His infatuation with you never changed either. You were quiet, something he had immediately gravitated to when you were introduced to the rest of the teams as the new Nekoma manager.

But when he started to get to know you, well, he couldn’t help the feelings that began to bubble up in his chest.

He had started his quiet pursuit as soon as he realized his feelings; quiet because he didn’t want Kuroo or Bokuto making any unnecessary ruckus about it, and he didn’t want to startle you.

Although, his gentle flirting never seemed to register in your brain.

He had some hope though, considering that you were clumsier when you were around him, extremely nervous and red-faced when he talked to you.

Like now.

“How were your exams Y/n-san?” Akaashi asked politely, sharp eyes holding nothing but interest as he gazed at you.

“They went f-f-fine. I th-think… I c-could’ve done better a-at th-the mathematics.” You stuttered out, eyes glancing away from him as you fumbled about with the ball in your hands. “What about y-you, Akaashi-san?”

Akaashi took in the way your brows furrowed, your lips unconsciously quirking into a small pout at whatever it was you were thinking about with the exams. A soft smile began to coat his face, you were just far too perfect.

“They went fine. I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either Y/n-san, you’re very smart and pretty, I’m sure you did fine.” he said easily, watching in amusement as your face slowly began turning bright red.

Did he… did he call you pretty?

He did. He definitely did, and so smoothly too…

“I’ll see you around, don’t work too hard.” he said, long fingers reaching out to touch your elbow gently before running off to his teammates.

You watched his retreating back, blinking slowly before your hands came up to rest against your burning cheeks.

“Oi, Y/n-chan! What are you spacing out for? We need to finish cleaning up.” Kuroo called out, grabbing the ball that dropped from your hands.

“S-Sorry senpai!” you squeaked out, rushing off to help the team, stumbling about, causing Yaku to yell at you to be more careful.

****

“Hey, Y/n-chan, we have a question for you.” Suzumeda said, sitting down next to you in the managers room, Shirofuku trailing behind her with a bag of chips in hand.

You looked at her in curiosity, setting down the book in your hands. “Y-Yes?”

You were entirely familiar with the two managers of Fukurodani, considering the endless practice matches your two teams participated in together. They were incredibly kind, but from the look in Suzumeda eyes, well you knew that they were plotting something.

“Do you like Akaashi?”

Your expression must’ve been something entirely amusing because the two girls began giggling.

“W-Why would you ask me that!?” You asked in embarrassment.

“You guys are always staring at each other or talking with each other.” Shirofuku mused, tossing more chips into her mouth.

“You’re mistaken, Akaashi-san is just a friend.” you said quietly.

The two girls shared a pointed look before directing their gaze back to you.

“Well how do you feel about our setter?” Shirofuku pressed on.

That’s right, how did you feel?

You had always thought that Akaashi was incredibly kind and talented, his intelligence was almost intimidating to you, those calculating eyes were just as beautiful as they were dangerous. That was another thing, Akaashi was quite possibly the most beautiful person you had ever met.

His dark hair was perfectly tousled and looked incredibly soft, there were moments where you wondered if it was soft. There were moments where you noticed him fidgeting with his fingers and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to hold his hand…

Oh.

Maybe… maybe you did like him.

“E-Even if I d-did like him, he w-wouldn’t l-like me back.” you mumbled, picking up your book once again, signaling that you no longer wanted to talk about this any longer.

You hadn’t noticed the sly grins that coated their faces as they called goodnight towards you before leaving the room.

That’s right, even if you had feelings for Akaashi that didn’t mean that he would return them.

Right?

****

“Good morning Y/n-san.” Akaashi greeted softly, one of his hands running through his damp hair.

You were passing by the bathrooms, on your way to the cafeteria to help prepare breakfast with the other managers when you had almost run into the said male.

“G-Good morning Akaashi-san.” you said quietly.

A half-smile twitched onto his lips, before he titled his head to the side in curiosity. His hand reached out, gently grabbing at the hair that was draped over your shoulders. You could feel the gentle brush of his fingertips against the side of your neck as he brushed the hair off your shoulders.

“I’ve never seen you with your hair down before… it looks good.” he said quietly, those sharp blue eyes seemed to stare straight into your heart, analyzing you completely.

Which was why his hand rested softly on your shoulder, carefully trailing down your arm and gently grasping at your elbow, squeezing softly before releasing you completely. A teasing smile grazing his lips as he took in your flushed, nervous form.

Akaashi knew he was toeing the line of boundaries, but he wanted to test the waters, and seeing how you reacted to his touch and his compliment… maybe he needed to be a bit bolder.

You could feel his lingering touch, goosebumps erupting over your body, and you had to resist the strong urge to shiver, heat lingering over where he had touched you.

“T-Thank you Akaashi-san! I’ll see you at breakfast!” You squeaked, running off, stumbling over your own feet as you ran towards the cafeteria.

A soft laugh escaped his lips as he watched your retreating figure, his head shaking. He would definitely have to step up his game if he wanted to get his feelings across.

****

Akaashi’s gentle touches seemed to escalate the longer the training camp went on, they were subtle touches, no one even noticing the newfound attention you were receiving. Akaashi planned it that way, he already knew that his managers suspected something from the way they would smirk at him, but the rest of his teammates were oblivious.

That was the last thing he needed in his pursuit of you.

They would surely scare you off if they knew.

There were times where he felt a bit guilty at his lingering touches, he had never seen someone turn so red before, but he couldn’t help it.

Of course, he enjoyed the gentle interactions, the soft touches, he was a man after all, but there was so much that he could take.

His obvious flirting seemed to go over your head, and maybe his touches were beginning to as well.

All you knew was that you were going to die if he kept this up. Your poor heart couldn’t handle it any longer either.

“- the cafeteria will be closing soon.” Shirofuku mused as you guys stopped in front of gymnasium 3.

The boys immediately stopped what they were doing running off towards the cafeteria, hollering at one another.

This seemed to be routine in the last couple of days, only this time, you were with the Fukurodani managers.

“Are you coming to the baths Y/n-chan?” Suzumeda asked, pausing when she realized you weren’t walking with them anymore.

“Umm… in a bit. I’m going to h-help Akaashi-san clean up.” you said nervously, bowing to the two girls before entering the gym.

“D-Do you need help?” you stuttered out, making your presence known to the dark-haired male.

He stood up from where he was picking up the balls, a surprised look crossing his features before something soft and gentle melted across.

“If you want to.” he said quietly, watching your form as you began gathering the rest of the balls up, bumping them into the bin easily.

“It’ll get down f-faster with t-two people.” You said, tone soft.

The rest of the cleanup was filled with a comfortable silence, lingering touches being shared every now and then.

You were in the storage room now, your hands resting on the edge of the ball cart, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you started to become lost in thought.

Your heart was definitely racing, this was possibly the longest time you’ve ever spent alone with Akaashi.

Did he… did he like you?

He was just being kind, there was no way that he would be interested in clumsy little you.

“Y/n-san?” his soft voice caused you to flail about in surprise; not only did you fall to the floor but the mop and broom were knocked over, causing Akaashi to rush to grab them before they toppled over your form that was now sitting on the floor.

You blinked up at him.

Akaashi stared at you in worry, squatting down in front of you. “Did you get hurt? I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.” he said frowning, elegant fingers reaching out to brush the hair out of your face.

“I’m f-fine. Y-You don’t need to a-apologize.” You said sweetly, although your face was incredibly red.

Silence fell over you once again, but somehow the room seemed thick with something…. Tension? You weren’t entirely sure. But the room buzzed and felt heavy around the two of you.

You were hyper aware of his close proximity, you could feel his body heat radiating into yours, the scent of his laundry detergent wafting into your nose along with the smell of sweat, and something incredibly delicious.

Was that… was that cologne?

Your stomach twisted pleasantly, he was so close, way too close.

“Y/n-san.” He murmured your name softly, his hand coming up to rest against the side of your face, gently sliding down to cup you along your jaw.

Akaashi was suddenly shifting closer to you.

“I like you.” he whispered, his lips brushing softly against your own before carefully pressing down against yours.

A surprised noise escaped your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut. Immediately your hands reached out for him, gently resting against the base of his neck, feeling the soft tickle of sweat against the palms of your hands, before sliding up into his sweat dampened hair and… oh. His hair was incredibly soft. Your fingers easily tangle into the hairs behind his head.

The kiss deepened from this movement.

Akaashi was everywhere. His touch, his taste, his smell, it was overwhelming. His lips moved carefully against your own, soft and warm, his tongue poking through your lips every now and then, his teeth gently biting into your lower lip.

Your heart was going to explode, could you die from a kiss? Maybe you would be the first person to experience that.

You were sure of it, especially when he pulled you closer, his other hand resting on your shoulder, tugging you closer between his legs.

Would he give you more?

You definitely wanted more.

You definitely wanted -

“Akaashi! What are you doing!?”

“Oi! Get off my manager!”

Forget dying from a kiss, you would surely die from embarrassment.

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