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vanteguccir · 2 months

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8 minutes of cute moments | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Chris and Y/N being in love.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @lightsgore

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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The fans of the triplets simply adored Y/N and Chris together, and that wasn't news. The number of comments and likes doubled whenever the girl appeared with her boyfriend in a random picture in a photo dump on Instagram or when her voice sounded in the background of a video.

But what they loved most was when a cute moment of the two of them together was captured during a video on the Sturniolo channel or in a fraction of seconds on Y/N's TikTok, and they made this clear by making thousands of compilations of these little moments, long enough to even post on YouTube.

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8 minutes of cute moments between Chris Sturniolo and his girlfriend, Y/N.

1st minute:

The triplets and Y/N were walking down the sidewalk near the arena in Boston, where they played hockey with Nate.

Nick was recording himself with his phone, talking about how he had almost slipped on the ice several times, when Chris and Y/N's voices sounded, interrupting him. He focused the front camera on the two behind him, surreptitiously recording them.

"... But baby, it wasn't my fault." Y/N complained, her lips forming a pout as her eyes focused on the floor.

"Babe, I asked you to record the game, right?" Chris asked, an amused smile on his face.

They walked side by side, the girl's right arm around her boyfriend's slightly sweaty waist, while Chris's left arm rested on Y/N's shoulders, his fingers caressing her left bicep lightly.

"Yes, and I recorded it!" Her voice came out high-pitched.

"Okay, and how many times did I make a goal?" The boy asked again, raising his right eyebrow.

"Three." Y/N replied in an obvious tone, raising her eyes to look into the blue ones she loved so much. "You kissed me every time you did it." She smiles proudly.

"Yes, and how many of those three did you record?"

"None." She looked down again, her pout deepening. "But-"

Chris threw his head back, his laughter echoing through the night, interrupting his girlfriend's defense.

He leaned down slightly, sealing his lips over Y/N's head, an amused smile still on his face. Oh, how he loved his girlfriend.

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2nd minute:

The triplets were filming the video "A night at the North Pole with Larray and Nai!". The camera was positioned in a strategic point so that the lens captured all the camping items around the room, as well as the brothers and the two guests.

Y/N was in her shared room with Chris, already dressed in her - his - pajamas and with her skincare done, ready for bed. But sleep never came.

She knew she had trouble sleeping without Chris after her body got used to the boy's presence pressed against hers every night for 5 years, so her mind didn't seem to give in, begging for the warmth that Chris's larger body provided.

After a few long minutes of turning from side to side, Y/N gave up trying. Sleep was taking over her, and she was feeling more and more stressed for not being able to go into dream land, so she decided to just go to her boyfriend.

Y/N rose from the bed, their duvet wrapped around her body like a cape. Her hands reached for the handle of the white door, closing it behind her and climbing the stairs in slow, silent steps caused by the fluffy socks that covered her feet.

Larray was the first to notice her - sitting facing the top of the stairs. He smiled, amused by his friend's condition; her eyes slightly closed from sleep, her hair high in a messy bun, and her hands gripping the edges of the duvet tightly.

Not many seconds passed, and Y/N's figure was finally caught by the camera, the girl having entered the frame.

"Hey, zombie girl." Nick joked when he noticed her, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

Y/N completely ignored him, walking towards her boyfriend from behind the triplets, not wanting to step on the food that was on the floor between the five of them.

Chris's face automatically lit up when he noticed her after hearing his brother, a big smile taking over as his eyes sparkled. He opened his arms, already waiting for his girlfriend's next move.

The girl smiled lazily back, planting her feet on the floor on either side of her boyfriend's hips, before lowering herself with Chris's help, sitting on his lap.

The brunette quickly wrapped her in his arms, surrounding her torso covered by the fluffy duvet. He hugged her tightly, laying his head in the crook of her neck and exhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo momentarily, before resting his chin on her shoulder, being able to see everything in front of him.

"Sleep, pretty girl."

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3rd minute:

Chris was playing Fortnite live on Twitch. His camera was on and focused on his upper body. His head was covered by the hood of his hoodie, pressed against his ears by the headphone, from where muffled sounds from the video game were coming out.

Within 30 minutes of streaming, Y/N's figure shyly appeared behind Chris. Her hands held a tray with some snacks and an already opened can of Pepsi.

She walked towards her boyfriend, curving her spine slightly forward so that her face came into his field of vision, alerting him to her presence.

The boy's blue eyes widened in excitement almost instantly, a smile stretching across his face as his right hand worked on pausing the game, using the soles of his feet against the floor to turn his body towards her.

"Hi bubba, I just came to drop off some snacks for you. It's been a while since you had dinner, I thought you could be hungry." Y/N counted in a low tone, momentarily forgetting that Chris's headphones were of the highest quality, meaning it caught her every word.

The couple didn't notice the chaos in the chat, too focused on each other.

Chris bit his lower lip in an attempt to stop his smile from growing any wider, taking the tray from Y/N's hands and placing it on the free space on his computer desk.

He lifted his chin slightly in the air so that he brought his lips closer to hers, sealing them in a quick kiss, his eyes shining with intense love.

"Thank you, babe." Chris thanked in an equally low tone, adjusting himself in his chair again, ready to go back to playing.

Y/N smiled, caressing his shoulder lightly before turning to leave the room.

"I love you." The brunette shouted quickly before his girlfriend could close the door, receiving an "I love you more" in return.

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4th minute:

The triplets and Y/N were at an Italian restaurant, having decided to go out to dinner together that day.

Y/N was talking to Matt about one of the random facts that the boy knew and blurted out of nowhere, the two deeply involved in the conversation.

The dishes had just been delivered by the waiter, who placed them respectively in front of the person who ordered, leaving shortly afterward.

Chris quickly pulled Y/N's plate towards himself, grabbing his own knife and fork and cutting the sirloin steak into small pieces and separating them from the pasta, knowing how much his girl hated cutting meat and how she always ate too quickly.

What he didn't notice was that Nick took out his phone the moment he started the gesture, closely recording his brother cutting his girlfriend's food, practicing the act of service.

After finishing, Chris lightly pushed the plate in front of his girl, turning around to start eating his own.

The girl smiled shyly, turning to Chris momentarily, sealing her lips over his cheek before murmuring a "thank you, babe" against his skin, turning her attention back to Matt.

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5th minute:

The triplets were in their car, recording another car video. Y/N was their special guest, sitting in the backseat next to Chris, who chose to sit there just to be close to his girlfriend.

Y/N had just taken a bite of the pepperoni pizza that Nick took from the trunk, finishing chewing quickly so she could bring her point of view on something Nick was saying, gesturing with her right hand while her left held the piece carefully.

Chris watched her closely, his eyes fixed on her side profile as he listened, nodding his head.

Something the fandom loved was how Y/N was the only person Chris didn't interrupt all the time, showing himself completely interested in hearing anything his girl was saying, regardless of whether it made sense or not.

At one point, the boy lowered his eyes, stretching his right arm and taking one of the napkins that was on the car console, bringing it to Y/N's mouth, lightly wiping the corner of her lip that was dirty with sauce, but without interrupting her.

Chris folded the napkin, leaving it on his lap, knowing he would have to use it again soon.

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6th minute:

"Look, boys, learn from Chris how to treat a girl right." Nick whispered from behind his phone.

He was standing behind the kitchen table, holding his cell in his right hand, the rear camera focused on the living room couch, where Y/N was.

The girl was lying on her side, her knees bent so that her thighs touched her chest. Her back was facing the room, while her face was lightly pressed against the back of the couch. A Fresh Love sweatshirt set covered her body, keeping her warm.

Small sighs escaped her half-open mouth, her eyes moving behind her eyelids, showing how deep her sleep was.

Chris, who was sitting with her feet on his lap seconds ago, was now standing in front of the couch, curving his spine down so that he could reach his girlfriend, slowly passing his arms under her neck and bent knees, pulling her up.

On instinct, Y/N raised her left arm, surrounding Chris's neck and laying her head on his chest, waking up for just a few seconds, caressing his covered skin with the tip of her nose.

"Shh, sleep baby. I'm right here." Chris murmured in a low tone, sealing her forehead lightly, stopping his movements as he watched her close her eyes again, falling back to sleep.

Chris moved slowly, hugging Y/N's body against his as he walked towards the stairs, not noticing Nick recording them from afar.

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7th minute:

Y/N was sitting on the puff in front of her makeshift dressing table. Her phone was resting on it horizontally while her front camera recorded herself.

She was talking about the new trend in the fashion world, having as a hobby making videos for TikTok about fashion and makeup. While the girl explained in detail, her hands worked on doing her nighttime skincare, gesturing, and changing products alternately.

Chris's figure appeared behind her a few seconds after she started it, his hands holding Y/N's hairbrush. He was already ready to sleep, his eyes half closed with sleep and his hair slightly messy.

A habit created by the couple was that, while Y/N did her skincare before bed, Chris would carefully comb her hair, having always had a great love for her locks.

The boy approached his girlfriend, smiling quickly at the camera before stopping behind Y/N. His free hand parted her hair so he could comb it without hurting her or leaving any part behind.

Chris raised his hand with the hairbrush, starting to do it gently, untangling the knots created throughout the day and aligning the strands.

His eyes met Y/N's from time to time through the mirror, a small smile resting on his lips, adorning his passionate features.

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8th minute:

It was the Versus Tour; Matt, Chris, and Nick were playing the last round of Giant Jenga when Chris spotted a fan with a sign held up.

"Wait, before we continue, can I read a sign from a fan real quick?" The brunette interrupted the group, holding his microphone with his right hand and pointing at the crowd with his left one, receiving absurdly loud screams in response.

Matt shrugged, looking at Nick, who nodded, making a go-ahead gesture with his hands.

"Hi! Can I read your sign?" Chris turned back to the audience, pointing to a specific girl. The girl's eyes widened, her mouth opening in shock at being noticed by her idol, taking a few seconds to finally nod her head repeatedly. "Your sign says, "I'm only here for Y/N"-"

Loud screams interrupted Chris, fans going wild at the mention of his girlfriend's name. The brunette took the microphone away from his mouth, laughing in disbelief and looking at a specific area on the right side of the stage.

A fan, who was in the audience and recording the moment, focused the rear camera of her phone on the place where Chris looked, being able to capture the figure of Y/N, who was laughing loudly and clapping her hands in amusement, shaking her head.

"Well, I can't judge you. Everywhere I am, I only go for Y/N, too." Chris muttered into his microphone again, laughing as he received even louder screams in response.

His eyes met his girlfriend's, throwing an air kiss and an "I love you" with just a movement of his lips, before turning his attention back to the game.

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Extra minute:

The triplets and Y/N were at their house with Nate and Madi. Everyone was in the living room, talking about random topics while a movie played on the television at low volume, serving as ambient sound. Some board games were scattered on the floor, next to unopened or already eaten snacks.

Chris was sitting on a puff in front of the big windows while Y/N was on his lap. She had her legs thrown to one side while her torso was on the other, sitting sideways on Chris's thighs with her right shoulder resting on his chest.

Chris's arms encircled her body, his right one holding her waist while his left one caressed her thighs lightly.

The girl was talking about a situation she witnessed between a group of third-party friends, always keeping her boyfriend updated on the gossip.

What they didn't know was that Madi was recording their cute moment.

As Y/N spoke, Chris looked into her eyes intently, his gaze so full of love that Madi thought she could see hearts in the place of his pupils.

The brunette nodded from time to time, making it clear that he had his attention on her and understood everything she was saying, an almost imperceptible smile resting on the corner of his lips.

The two seemed to be surrounded by a bubble created just for them, the entire outside world completely forgotten.

That was their dynamic, and the triplets fandom loved it.

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

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loving-august · 12 days

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can i tie a ribbon around your biceps?

pairings. bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre. all fluff

links. navigation | masterlist

notes. Midterms is coming close and instead of studying, my mind popped an idea after the IG reel I saw months ago :))

You waited.

You waited for this moment to come.

Not that you are nervous around katsuki, goodness no. It's just, Katsuki has a knack of snarky remarks whenever you have something to do to him. And most of the time, he's busy with his job. Saving people from day to night was part of his daily routine. He’s the number 2 hero, of course. Although he’s not the actual number one hero, your words of praise kept him going. He’ll tease you for a sap. But he’s thankful enough with you staying by his side even during his worst and best times.

You waited for him from the living room as you lay down on the couch, scrolling with your phone. Soon, a sound came from outside. The sound of heavy boots and the sound of the key from the main door, indicates that he’s home. He always tells you to lock the main door even if you are still in the shared apartment with him, he cannot let any danger come to you.

The door opened, revealing your boyfriend in all his glory. He was wearing his black t-shirt, with his hero costume underneath and he was holding a briefcase with his gauntlets inside.

“I'm home.” he announced.

You rose from the couch and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Welcome home, katsuki, have you eaten yet? I have leftovers. Your mom gave me food for the both of us.”

Katsuki grumbled, and he silently placed his things at the corner of the living room. The sound of his home slippers came closer to you as he inspected the food inside the Tupperware. “What did she bring?” He asked.

You let out a sly smile. “My favourite."

“Ha? That's the third time she gave us,” he went closer to the kitchen counter and took the Tupperware.

“Are you jealous?”

“hell no.”

You laughed at his reply. It is true that this was the third time that Mitsuki sent your favorite food whenever she dropped by the apartment.

Katsuki silently washed his hands as you prepared his food. After preparing, katsuki sat down and you sat down oppositely to him, giving the heart eyes to look at him.

“you're so handsome. Did I tell you that?” You started.

Before he took a bite, he looked at you with his eyebrow raised at you. “Don't beat around the bush. What do you want?”

He knows when you want something or him to do something. It's always that look you give him.

“Oh, you know… the ribbon thing with your biceps. Can I tie a ribbon around your biceps?” You popped the question.

“Headlock wasn't enough for ya? Such a greedy girl,”

“Come on! Wrapping a ribbon around your biceps is cute! But it would be hotter if you flexed your muscles and the ribbon would just snap, pretty please?”

He was speechless. Just how are you desperate to do that?

“Fine. But you're washing the dishes until tomorrow night.”

“I accept!”

You hurriedly left the dining table and went to your shared room. You quickly look for the ribbon inside the drawers of your closet. When you left the table, he let out a light chuckle.

“So fucking cute..” he said to himself.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!

#๑.made by aug #bnha x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou x you

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randomshyperson · 7 months

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Shy Girls - Wanda Maximoff Kintober [Blurb] #04

Summary: A study session takes an interesting turn when you accidentally pull your girlfriend's hair.

Warnings: (+18), Bottom!Wanda, hair pulling, new kink discovery, dry humping, dirty talking, implied established relationship | Words: 505

A/N-> Today's heartfelt message is for the plagiarists who are vying for the spot of my thirteenth reason: Every time you steal an artist's work, rarely does something happen, but it still hurts, so just stop. But good reading for those who won't plagiarize people who spent time creating for other people's entertainment - all for free.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It began as a typical make-out session.

Wanda and her innocent flirtations, you with distracted touches that made her warm and tingly.

The history book fell off your lap, and in the empty space, Wanda pressed herself into your hips. She loved the position as much as she loved your arms around her, holding her in place as your mouths moved together.

Wanda tried to press you against the sofa, but you remembered the glass of iced coffee was still in the corner by the cushion, and intending to break the kiss to warn her, you gently tugged on the grip you had on the hair at the nape of her neck.

The sound that escaped her throat was sinful - something between a whimper and a dirty moan, which took you by surprise. Wanda opened her eyes in the same second, her face scarlet.

"Shit, I'm sorry-" She gasped in embarrassment, but you tugged again, taking the opportunity to lower your mouth down her stretched neck and any rational line left her mind. She grew limp in your lap, and the third tug drew another whimper.

You had to break into an aroused chuckle. "How come we've never tried this before?" You whisper, sounding more like a rhetorical question from the state of the girl on your lap, her eyes ajar, her hips restless and her breathing shortened. She looked so ruined already, and you hadn't even done anything yet. “You’ve been hiding things from me. What else do you like, princess?” You kiss her rosy cheeks, and Wanda evades your gaze. Her shyness amuses you. "What's wrong, baby? Don't go shy on me now. Not when you eat me out so good-

She interrupted your teasing with a high-pitched squeak protest, ending your speech with a heated kiss. You grunted in delight, taking control with ease. Wanda grew impatient again, and this time, you grabbed her thighs to fit her on top, her center directly against your tensed muscle. She broke the kiss with a whimper but you pulled her back to lick every corner of her mouth until she melted against you, unable to do anything but grind herself dumbly into your thigh, desperate for relief.

You took advantage of her state to kiss her skin, until you reached her ear and played with the lobe between your teeth. "Pretty girl... don't ever hide from me. I'll do anything you want..." The knot on her belly explodes with no warning, and Wanda is cumming so hard that she has to bite down on your shoulder to muffle her scream before falling limp against you, her body twitching softly. Her ruined, completely drenched panties rubbing your skin are nearly driving you to insanity.

You think she needs a moment, but Wanda, after wrapping her arms around your neck, adjusts herself to whisper in your ear:

"Please, babe." She starts, slowly catching the right rhythm of her soft movements into your lap. "Can I... sit on your face?"

A sigh escapes your lips at the very thought. "That can be arranged." It's your last warning before you lift her onto your lap, intending to take her to the bedroom where she'll be more comfortable. She giggles shyly into your shoulder, her legs wrapped tightly around you the whole way.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #kinktober 2023

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writingforstraykids · 1 month

Note

I keep thinking about dilf!Felix like him being your besties dad or something….

-🎀

I swear I've been staring at this for so long, debating if I should do a full fic or just some thoughts. Well, thank my dear Azzy @galaxycatdrawz for this, because you made his thoughts go wild. Basically I just had to transform his whole little plan into a fic. There will be 2nd chapter (including smut) but have fun with this for now.🖤

Finding home in your heart

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader (mention of Minchan | Jisung)

Word Count: 7571

Summary: Felix got cheated on by his wife repeatedly and ends up heartbroken after the discovery. His adoptive daughter, your best friend, tells you the whole story and asks you to move in as you're struggling to find a place. Your only problem; you had a crush on Felix for ages and living with him isn't making it easier...

Warnings/Tags: angst, emotional hurt!comfort, fluff, insecure!lix, domestic shit, baking, cuddles, slowburn (ig?), first kiss, age difference (8 years, it's legal since this fic is for adults, chill out)

PART TWO

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix’s love life had been nothing but a steady stream of predictable days blending into years. He would have never doubted his beautiful wife and would have never second-guessed her love for him. They had gotten married early and soon found out his wife was incapable of carrying his children. So, after some consideration, they adopted a young girl and raised her like their own. She had grown into a smart young woman, and Felix couldn’t be more proud of her. Given the age gap of only ten years he had always been rather close with her and later you, her best friend.

One night he decided to surprise his wife, coming home early as his daughter was staying at yours. What greeted him wasn’t the usual warmth and coziness of his home but the sight of his wife in a certain setting no man wants to find the love of his life in with another man. For a moment, Felix found himself frozen in place, the safe foundation of his life slowly crumbling away beneath his feet. He whispered her name in disbelief, only to find out that this had been going on for years. Felix felt like his whole life shattered to pieces and the betrayal left an ugly taste of bitterness on his lips. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this?

“And then she just left,” your best friend ends her story, and your eyes grow even wider than they have already been.

“You’re kidding?” you ask, shocked.

“Apparently, she said something about how this shit has been going on for years, that she never really loved him, and that she’ll leave until he finds a new place,” she rages on and paces her bedroom angrily. “Oh, and I’m just another burden he talked her into,” she scoffs, and your frown deepens.

“You won’t stay here, right?” you ask cautiously. You can’t imagine she will, but still.

“Oh, hell no. I’ll go with Dad, she can piss off,” she shakes her head and drops onto her mattress. “The perk of being not related to her is that I can push her out of my life for good,” she snorts, and you gently pat her back. “I feel so bad for him,” she sighs.

“It must’ve been a huge shock,” you nod, your heart feeling heavy. Felix has always been kind to you from day one. Whenever your family was struggling, he helped out, even if it was simply by taking you with them to theme parks, the movies, or shopping. Felix was only eight years older than you and ten years older than your best friend, so the older you got, the more he felt like an older friend instead of your best friend’s father. Also, he was stunningly handsome, but that wasn’t relevant right now.

“He’s trying to hide it, but I know how shitty he feels right now,” she tells you worriedly. “I mean, he’s never been with anyone else and-.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” you assure her gently. “He has such a kind heart, I’m sure someone will love him, truly.”

“I will thoroughly check the next person. You’ll have to help me then, go all detective on them,” she smirks, and you agree, laughing.

A gentle knock at the door interrupts you, and Felix opens the door flashing you a tired smile as a greeting before glancing at his daughter. “Channie called, he has a spare place we can have.”

“Just like that?” she asks baffled.

Felix chuckles weakly and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just like that. I told him I’d pay, but Minho insisted they don’t need the place, and it’s all paid off.”

“How convenient,” she smirks and rolls her eyes. “Typical uncle Min,” she grins.

“Yeah,” he laughs and sighs softly. “You think you can get everything ready in the next few days?”

“You really can’t wait to get out of here, huh?” she laughs, and his smile dies, eyes clouding with pain.

“Yeah, I guess,” he nods and clears his throat as his daughter looks at him apologetically. “Well, let me know when you’re hungry, and we can order something,” he announces, putting on a smile and quickly pulling the door closed.

“See?” she whispers. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

You hum gently and pat your best friend’s knee. “Well, I can help you move, I have nothing to do those next few weeks.”

“You’re so sweet,” she giggles and hops up, ripping the door open. “Dad, Y/nnie says she’s gonna help us move our stuff!” she shouts downstairs.

“Lovely,” Felix shouts back halfheartedly and flinches as his daughter slams the door closed again. “Fucks sake, this woman,” he snorts and stands still in the living room for a moment. He chews on his lower lip as the many memories he made in this very room crash over him like a wave, trying to drown him. “You’re such a dumbass,” he whispers to himself.

“No, you’re not, she’s just a massive bitch,” you speak up gently, suddenly standing in the living room with him.

He blinks at you with wide, confused eyes before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Mhm, you could say that. Doesn’t make me any wiser, letting her fool me for the past ten years,” he huffs softly and rubs his face. “I just feel bad for her,” he says, and you know he means your best friend upstairs. “All I always wanted for her was a stable home after everything she went through.”

“Look at her, you did great,” you tell him, and he chuckles weakly.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” he waves you off and blinks at you surprised as you offer him a hug. He accepts it after a short moment of hesitation and bites back a laugh as you pat his back encouragingly.

“You’ll be okay…she’ll never find someone better, so fuck her. It’s her loss,” you tell him, and Felix snorts before letting go of you and grabbing his phone.

“We’ll see,” he hums softly, subtly bringing some distance between the two of you again. “You’re gonna stay for dinner?” he asks, and you gently shake your head.

“I promised Mum I’d be home for dinner today,” you tell him, and he nods gently.

“You need a ride?” he offers, and you wave him off.

“I’ll be fine, promise,” you assure him and exchange your goodbyes.

One week later

You put down the boxes you carried inside and look around with wide eyes. “Wow, Min wasn’t lying. This place is huge.”

“Right? I didn’t quite believe it as well,” your best friend giggles and puts down her boxes as well.

“Why would I lie about that, huh?” Minho asks playfully offended, adding some boxes on the floor next to yours. “You think we’d give your dad and you some shabby place? You think that lowly of us?”

Chan pokes his side, making him squeak and giggles as Minho playfully raises his fists to fight him. “Relax, no one’s calling you a liar, baby.”

“Sure hope so,” he teases and naturally intertwines their hands, pulling Chan with him. “You haven’t seen the view from up here yet,” he announces and waves you after him.

You follow the pair of them onto the huge balcony, and your breath hitches. From up here, you can see parts of the city and the ocean, and still it’s so peaceful up here.

“How’s your dad, kiddo?” Minho asks your best friend after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Worse than he admits,” she answers, and Minho hums gently. “If you ask me, he’s fucking heartbroken and feels worthless. If you ask him, he’s okay and just a little caught up in his thoughts,” she further explains.

“Give him time,” Chan tells her gently and sighs, looking down at the ocean. “Ten years is a lot, you know?”

The door to the balcony opens, and Felix steps outside, laughing at you all. “Seriously? You’re out here enjoying the view while I’m carrying all those boxes?” he asks, and you all start laughing before hurrying back inside to help him.

Once everything is inside, Minho and Chan give you a tour through the house and you wonder what Felix and your friend would do with all this space. The couple soon leaves again to give them some space to settle in.

Your best friend strolls through the house and frowns softly. “You’re alright?” Felix asks her, frowning softly. “I know it’s not home, but we can make it work, it’ll just need some time and-.”

“Dad, home is wherever you are, relax,” she laughs, and Felix nods, stunned, looking adorably touched by her words. “I just…this place is huge.”

“It is,” he nods. “I have no idea what the hell they had planned for this.”

“Nothing useful, as Min put it,” you chime in, and Felix grins at your remark.

“I’ll feel so lonely here if you’re at work,” she speaks up after a moment, and Felix’s face softens.

“Dear, there’ll be a point in your life when you move out and everything. I won’t always be around,” he says, and she glares at him.

“Don’t say shit like that, you’re only ten years older than I am, it’ll take a while,” she points out, and he snorts but gives in, remaining quiet. “Y/nnie, how’s the hunt for a flat going?” she asks.

“I already told you it’s shit,” you sigh softly, not quite picking up on her true intentions behind that question. “It’s either too expensive or so much out of town it’s not exactly convenient.”

“Oh, you’re going to move out?” Felix asks, busying himself with one of the boxes.

“I want to, my parents could use the space for something else,” you nod.

“Dad?” she asks, drawing out the word with a sweet tone.

“What do you want?” he asks, not even looking up.

“She could move in with us,” she says, and you frown at her. Felix looks up, confused, and tilts his head at her. “She can’t find a place, I worry about getting lonely here…you could use some more company as well before you’re fully depressed and-.”

“Will you stop?” he snaps at her. “I’m not depressed, I’m fine besides the fact that I got cheated on after wasting ten years of my life,” he continues and shakes his head at her. “Stop reading into it that much, I’ll start believing you at this point.”

You lower your gaze at the floor and awkwardly shuffle on your feet. “Gosh, relax,” she sighs. “That just proved my point.”

Felix throws the contents of the box back inside and pushes himself up. “I’m getting some fresh air. And yes, you can move in if you want to, it’s not like we’d lack space or whatever,” he says before leaving the two of you.

“Nice one,” you sigh softly.

“What?” she groans and rolls her eyes. “You know I’m right.”

“And that makes it better?” you chuckle, and she huffs softly. “Fine, fine, I’ll go apologize…but would you?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh softly. “I’d feel like I’m intruding,” you argue gently.

“Never,” she shakes her head firmly. “Also, you’re here every day anyway, so nothing changes,” she grins before sighing softly. “Dad?” she shouts, and you roll your eyes at her.

Should you? Move in with your best friend and her heartbroken, conveniently handsome adoptive father? That could only go wrong, right?

You join them on the balcony and sigh softly, meeting your best friend’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

She shouts in joy and pulls you into a tight hug, hopping excitedly. “You’re the best best friend I could’ve ever wished for!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, catching Felix smirking at the two of you.

Three weeks later

You hum to yourself as you make your way from the kitchen to the living room area. Your best friend is staying the night at her boyfriend’s, and Felix is out on Stray Kids duty, as you jokingly call it. So, for now, you have the whole house to yourself. You moved in fully about two weeks ago, and your new room is bigger than you ever dared to imagine. There’s an attached bathroom as well, and your few things look ridiculous, trying to fill up all that space you have now.

You grab your phone and check your messages before scrolling through some news. Refreshing the page, a new article appears on top, and you realize it’s about Felix. Curiously, you click on it, and your eyes widen, realizing it’s about what happened with his wife. You read through it and smile sadly; Felix seems to have tried putting it as respectfully and vague as he could. You don’t support what that woman did for years one bit, but you also know how their fans can get so you’re glad Felix tries to stay neutral in public.

You glance up from your phone as the front door opens downstairs, and Felix comes up the stairs only a little later. Looking at him, you can tell he was crying, and your heart sinks to your stomach, seeing how tired he looks. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow softly as he stops in his tracks as if he just remembered you live here as well. “You’re okay?” you ask softly, and for the first time in weeks, Felix shakes his head.

“Not really, no,” he admits, his voice a little raspy. You can tell he’s fighting back tears, and you gently pat the spot next to you on the sofa. Felix momentarily searches your eyes before moving forward and dropping down on the sofa next to you. “I know it’s my own fault because I took off my wedding ring but I didn’t expect them to ask already,” he tells you quietly and nervously fidgets with his hands. “Chan told me to be honest before she comes up with something that’ll drag me down.”

“I think you’ve handled it quite well,” you tell him gently, and he groans in response.

“Already online, huh?” he sighs, and you hum softly. Felix throws his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling. You can’t help but take in his side profile and let your eyes wander down his neck. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” you ask gently.

“I have to have an explanation for everything as if I’d know why she cheated. Maybe it’s because I’ve been gone often with all our schedules. Maybe she got bored. Maybe she just saw past that facade of fame and sunshine behavior and realized I’m not as lovable as everyone thinks I am,” he huffs, making you frown at him. “Maybe she never loved me in the first place, and I can’t even blame her for that.”

“Stop it now,” you scold him firmly and Felix turns his head, blinking at you. “Have you ever considered that maybe she’s just a massive bitch and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you?”

“Not really, no,” he shakes his head and sits up straight again. “That’s rather unlikely, isn’t it? There’s always a reason people cheat.”

“Sometimes it’s simply stupidity,” you insist. “Not everything is your fault, Felix.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” he asks quietly, and your heart breaks at the desperate glint in his eyes. “Why does it feel like I’m the one who fucked it all up? And why doesn’t she care one bit, and I’m here feeling like complete shit?”

“Because you loved her,” you say quietly and watch his face fall. “She didn’t try to make it right, did she? She didn’t protest when you suggested a divorce.” Felix shakes his head, eyes brimming with tears. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she never loved you for who you truly are. Maybe all she saw was the fame, the money, the places you went to…but how is that your fault?”

“I…I should’ve known,” he says quietly, his lower lip quivering a little.

“You can’t know that shit if they’re good at hiding and pretending. Who knows how long she could’ve kept up that show if you hadn’t come home early that day?” you ask, and Felix avoids your observant gaze, staring down at his hands. “The only thing you’re at fault for is beating yourself up for this and thinking you’re worthless.”

Felix remains quiet and presses his lips together tightly as hot tears run down his cheeks. His hair falls into his face as his head hangs low, and you can only tell as he sniffles softly. You hesitantly reach out for him and rub his back soothingly. Felix whispers an apology and buries his face in his hands, a quiet sob rippling through his body. You don’t know where you get the confidence from, but you move before you can reconsider what you’re about to do. Wrapping your arm around him, you pull him into a warm embrace and gently rub his shoulder. Felix tenses up briefly before he relaxes into your touch, allowing himself the comfort you spend.

It doesn’t last for all too long, and Felix pushes himself off the sofa, messily wiping his cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t-,” he stammers and exhales shakily. “I shouldn’t dump this all on you.”

“I don’t-” you start and shut your mouth as he raises his hand to stop you.

“I know you don’t mind. I know,” he says and shakily wipes his cheek. “That doesn’t make it any better. I appreciate you trying to help, but I’ll go before I start unloading even more nonsense,” he sniffles and flashes you a sad smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome,” you nod gently and watch him leave. Only then do you notice your heart racing in your chest and the wet patch of his tears in your sweater. “So much to keeping boundaries, Y/n,” you scold yourself, rubbing your face tiredly.

Felix closes the door to his room and buries his face in his hands with a soft groan. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers and stands still for a moment. What is he doing, sobbing in his daughter’s best friend’s arms? Is he going insane? Felix closes his eyes and tries to forget how comfortable your hug felt, how good you smelled, and how soothing your presence was to him. “Fuck,” he whispers into the emptiness of his room.

One week later

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you walk down the hallway, clutching your visitor pass. Your best friend asked you to pick up Felix from work tonight because she had to work late and would then stay at her boyfriend's again. Would he think weirdly of you for it? He's been avoiding you a little after that emotional breakdown a week ago, and you can't blame him.

You reach Chan's studio and knock gently, letting yourself in.

“Oh, Y/nnie,” Chan greets you cheerfully.

“Haven't seen you here in a while,” Minho adds curiously.

“Yeah, uh, I have to pick up Felix,” you say, and they frown.

“I thought-”

“No, she's working late and staying at her boyfriend's or something like that,” you shrug your shoulders.

“She asks you to move in so she isn't lonely and leaves all the time,” Minho shakes his head, amused. “Well, at least someone's keeping an eye on Lix, then.”

“Mhm, yeah,” you nod. “Where is he?”

“In the practice room down the hallway. Uh…he's in a shit mood today,” Minho tells you.

“Define shit mood,” you chuckle.

“Everything is shit, nothing works, he's useless,” Chan sighs softly and shakes his head. “We tried.”

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes. “Fine, I'll do my best.”

“Good luck,” Chan giggles.

Only a little later, you open the door to the practice room and slip inside. You frown as you spot Felix stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “I swear, Channie, if you're here to tell me another bad joke that's supposed to make me laugh, I'll snap,” he announces.

You stop next to him and tilt your head at him. “Not Channie,” you say. “What's that supposed to be?” you ask, vaguely waving at his current position.

“It's my new favorite yoga position called utter depression,” he says dryly and throws you a peace sign. “That's I'm a failure, what's your name?”

“Chan wasn't lying,” you nod slowly.

“Did Chan call you? Seriously?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows.

“No. In fact, it was your lovely daughter asking me to come pick you up. She's working late, and then she'll stay over at her boyfriend's.”

“I still can't believe she asked you to move in so she wouldn't be lonely, and now she's barely home,” Felix snorts and groans softly.

“Mhm, you guys are repeating yourselves, Min said the same thing,” you tell him and gently poke his side with your shoe. “What's going on, Mr. utter depression?”

“Nothing, as you can see,” he sighs. “I fucked up during practice today. Minho only didn't call me out for all the mistakes because he felt sorry for me at the time,” he tells you.

“And that led you down the good old road to self-hatred?” you ask, sitting down on the floor next to him.

“Maybe,” he answers vaguely.

“Surely,” you correct him. “Lix?” you ask gently, and he turns his head toward you. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” he shakes his head as his eyes trace your features.

“We could take a walk and grab some food on the way. We don't have to talk or anything. It's just for you to clear your head and empty all that garbage you keep up there,” you tell him, tugging a small smile at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods.

You exchange your goodbyes with Min and Chan, who secretly throw some hearts your way when Felix isn't looking. Idiots.

After that evening, it all got easier again. You didn't talk much that day, but the fresh air, bright lights, and warm food had lightened Felix's mood immensely. Over the following two weeks, you two grew closer, and Felix allowed himself to be more open. With your best friend gone quite frequently, it was often only you and him.

The more time you spent together, the more you realized how ridiculously perfect Felix was. His beautiful brown eyes, soft features adorned by all those sweet freckles, and blond hair falling around his face made your stomach flip. His sweet smile and even prettier laugh made you feel like winning a trophy every time you were the reason for it. He's so kind and polite that it makes your head spin.

Felix can't quite stop himself from looking at you whenever you don't notice. The more time you spend, the more he notices how beautiful you are. How caring and gentle. Your smile brightens his days and he can't fully shake the longing to be in your arms again off. He hasn't felt as comfortable around someone in a while, and there's a lingering worry in the back of his head telling him that he really shouldn't allow himself to fall for you. It only gets worse watching you doing the most mundane things and wishing that you wouldn't leave again.

Another two weeks later your best friend announces she'll be abroad for a holiday with her boyfriend for two weeks. Two weeks. It'll only be Felix and you for fourteen days. That thought wasn't helping your anxious heart, trying not to fall for him at all.

You decided to make the best out of it and forget about your worries. Seeing Felix smile again was all that counted.

The first morning, Felix tiredly strolls down the hallway from his room and stops in his tracks when he sees you at the stove. A sweet scent lingers in the kitchen, and he realizes you're making pancakes for breakfast. His heart picks up pace, and he takes a deep breath, reminding himself to act normal. “Morning,” he says, not knowing that his even deeper morning voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Good morning,” you smile at him, bright as ever. He has to look somewhere else to stop himself from blushing. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” you tell him, and he hums softly.

Felix sits down at the kitchen island and watches you thoughtfully. It's ridiculous how used to your presence he got over the past few weeks. Almost as if he couldn't imagine it any other way anymore. “Do you have any plans for today?” he asks and you shake your head as you put the pancakes on a big plate.

“Why?” you ask curiously and turn off the stove.

“Uh, I was thinking about painting her room since she wanted a new color so badly…I was wondering if you'd like to help?” he asks nervously.

You put down the plate and nod. “Sure, why not?”

Felix flashes you a sweet smile and thanks you as you hand him a plate with some pancakes. They're so fluffy they almost melt on his tongue, and he has trouble biting back a moan. “Oh, they're amazing,” he tells you and notices the subtle blush settling on your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you smile almost shyly.

Seriously, can't you give him a break?

After breakfast, Felix takes a quick shower, and you put on some clothes that could be ruined by the paint. You meet again in your best friend's room, and you smile at how soft Felix looks in a pair of gray sweatpants and a wide sweater. You pull all the furniture away from the walls, covering everything up before Felix shows you how to apply the paint properly. In the beginning, you're both quietly working and it feels peaceful, just focusing on painting for now. Then Felix starts talking, trying to kill the silence. “I signed the divorce papers yesterday,” he says casually, and you need a moment to figure out how to answer.

“Congratulations?” you chuckle, and he laughs, realizing how out of pocket this has been.

“Sorry, that was pretty random,” he apologizes.

“No, it's fine. I'm glad you did,” you say, and he glances at you, making you ramble on quickly. “I mean, it's the right thing to do. Did you settle on anything? Does she demand stuff?”

“If she doesn't want my legal team to be less nice about the reason we're getting a divorce than I was, then she won't,” he tells you and sighs softly. “She has the old house, and I don't have to pay her anything. I'm glad when we're done with the whole process,” he admits tiredly.

“I bet you are,” you nod gently. “You deserve some peace after everything,” you say, and he hums softly, pressing his lips together briefly. “We can stop talking about it,” you assure him gently, and Felix nods thankfully.

“We need more paint,” he states.

“Well, we should let this dry anyway for today,” you nod and flash him a gentle smile. “We could go buy some more and then call it a day?”

“Sounds good,” he nods, rubbing his face tiredly, and turns toward you fully now.

“You've got some paint on your cheek,” you say, and he blindly reaches out to wipe it off. He doesn't quite get it and you step in front of him, reaching out for him. “Let me help,” you say and gently rub your thumb over his cheek, wiping the still fresh paint off.

Felix freezes in place, staring at you as you do so. He feels like the world stops for a moment but then your soft touch is already gone again. He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in and follows you outside. Fucks sake.

You wander through the store next to him and you end up buying some more stuff to decorate the house a little more. Felix's phone rings and you can tell it's Chan by the way his face lights up. He nudges your side after a moment. “You're hungry?”

“I could eat,” you nod.

“Min and Chan ask if we wanna stop by,” he tells you, and you shrug your shoulders.

“Sure, why not?”

Only shortly after, you reach their house, and your eyes widen, spotting the two small kittens on the carpet. “Oh, you have new ones?” you ask excitedly and Minho looks at you as if he's going to hit you.

“Or not?” you ask, chuckling.

Chan gently pokes his cheek and grins at you. “Yeah, we got them like a week ago,” he nods, and you crouch down as they make their way over.

“Can I hold them?” you ask, looking at Minho, and his face softens.

“If they let you,” he nods and tells you to sit down on the floor.

He picks up the first one and gently hands it over to you, making sure you hold it right. “He's usually very calm, so if you don't move too quickly, you should be fine,” he tells you and sits down, grabbing the second one. “She's a little rascal,” he smirks and gently scratches her head.

“They're so tiny,” you say, amazed.

“Here, he loves those,” Chan says, handing you a little treat.

You hold out your hand for the kitten, and he doesn't waste much time. You giggle at his tiny tongue licking over your palm and beam at Minho excitedly. Chan passes Minho and gently runs his hand through his hair mindlessly. Minho smiles softly and looks up at him so full of love you can't help but wish you'd find someone you shared the same type of deep love with. “Wanna help me set the table, Lix?” he asks, and Felix hums, following him, not after a quick glance in your direction to make sure you're alright.

Soon after, you're all gathered around the table, and you all thank Minho for cooking. Chan glances at Felix after a while and seems to debate whether he should ask what's going through his head. “Lix?” he asks, and his friend turns toward him. “How are you holding up?”

“I'm fine,” he smiles tiredly, and you know the question starts to bother him by now.

“You said that from day one,” Minho chuckles and tilts his head at him.

“No, I am. I signed the papers yesterday and then soon it'll all be over,” he explains.

“Have you met anyone new?” Minho asks curiously. “I mean, it's been almost two months.”

“Mhm, after ten years of a fake marriage. I still have time, don't you think?” he asks sourly.

Chan steps in, trying to ease the mood. “We're just worried about you getting lonely, Lix,” he tells him.

“I'd rather be lonely than that,” he says and rolls his eyes at them. “Not everyone finds the one and lives happily ever after from day one on,” he says, looking at the two of them.

“That's hardly realistic, nothing was perfect from day one,” Minho shakes his head.

“Not really, no,” Chan snorts and winks at him.

“Well, you're not me, so…,” Felix says quietly, and the mood changes.

“Meaning?” Minho asks patiently, even though you can tell he’d rather punch some sense into him.

Felix puts down his chopsticks and sighs heavily. “I'm way too emotional, I'm too shy to approach anyone or initiate anything further, I mess up stuff constantly and-.”

“Will you stop?” you cut him off, and everyone looks at you as if they're remembering you're still here. “You keep on talking shit about yourself, and you don't even realize you're letting her win.”

“I'm not letting her—” he frowns. Chan is about to speak up, but Minho stops him, resting his hand on his.

“Yes, you are. She used you for years, and you're still letting her by making it all your fault. As if she had no other choice but to go off and fuck around with whoever she found moderately fuckable,” you say, and he blinks at you, stunned as Chan chokes on his breath. “You're talented at what you do, you're hardworking, and you're one of the most caring people I know. You didn't have to, but you always made me feel at home when I visited your daughter. You haven't done any differently since I moved in, and as long as you aren't talking shit about yourself, you're pretty funny. And-.”

“Y/nnie,” he says softly, and it's the first time he's called you that. “Eat up; it's going to get cold.”

You quickly shut your mouth, ears burning up as you realize you've just been pretty open in front of Minho and Chan. “Yeah, okay, you better shut up then…respectfully.”

“Message received,” he smiles gently.

Minho raises his eyebrows and glances at Chan before moving his eyes between the two of you. Chan frowns before his eyes widen, and he squints at him. Minho widens his eyes and puts on a little passive aggressively encouraging smile, signaling him that, yes, he is VERY right about this.

“You can stop the eye fuckery over there, I'll get sick,” Felix calls them out, and you frown softly at Minho's mischievous grin.

“Y/n, what about you?” Minho asks curiously.

“You're playing cupid as a side business, or what is this?” you ask right back.

“Simply interested,” he gives back.

“I'm single if you must know so badly, and no, my self-esteem isn't drowning as much as Lix’s,” you say, and Felix pokes your side, protesting softly.

Chan watches you quietly before glancing at his husband and humming softly. Minho simply smirks.

Later, when it's time to leave, you hold your hand out for Felix, and he tilts his head at you questioningly. “Keys, please,” you smile.

“Huh?” he asks, amused.

“You had two drinks, I didn't have any, and I'm driving,” you tell him, stretching your hand out once more.

“Listen to her, Yongbokie,” Minho tells him, and Felix gives in and hands you the keys.

“That was really sweet,” Felix says, almost too quiet to hear.

“The kittens?” you giggle.

“Mhm, yeah, they too,” he nods and glances over at you. “I meant what you said…I uh... thanks.”

“Oh,” you nod and feel your heart warming at the softness in his eyes. “I meant it.”

“I know,” he whispers and can barely meet your eyes.

“You should give yourself more credit. Try seeing yourself through the eyes of the people you mean something to from time to time,” you say, parking the car in front of the house.

Felix looks at you, a little stunned. “I mean something to you?” he asks softly.

“Well, of course you do, Lixie,” you smile and lean over, brushing his hair back for him.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes traveling down to your lips before he can fight it.

“Mhm,” you hum softly and search his eyes. Suddenly, you move forward and your lips meet in a soft kiss that has him melting in his seat. He reaches up to bury his hand into your hair and-.

“Felix? Felix, wake up,” you say gently.

“Huh?” he asks confused.

“Wake up, Lix, come on,” you say softly, daring to brush a loose strand from his face. “Come on, let's get you upstairs.”

Felix blinks at you drowsily and needs a moment to realize he's been dreaming—dreaming of kissing you. His face burns up red with embarrassment as your gentle eyes meet his, and he shoots out of his seat. “Yeah, sorry,” he stammers, and you watch him a little confused.

“You're okay?” you ask, closing the door for him.

“Sure, why wouldn't I be?” he asks, laughing nervously. Don't look at the lips. Don't.

“Man, you're weird when you get woken up,” you shake your head and unlock the front door, letting him in. Felix stumbles taking off his shoes, making you laugh. “Is alcohol having such an effect on you?”

“Mhm, yeah,” he lies, spotting his lifeline.

“Well, let's get you to bed then,” you say and gently pat his back, shoving him inside.

“I'll make it on my own, thank you,” he quickly says and wishes you a good night. He throws himself face forward onto his bed and groans into his blanket. “Fuck, no, Lix, you can't.” He turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, brushing his fingers over his lips. Groaning softly, he fumbles for his phone; he needs some clarity now.

“It's late, what the fuck, mate?”

“Jisungie, I fucked up,” Felix whines softly.

“Oh, please don't tell me you're drunk,” Jisung sighs softly. “Do I have to pick you up somewhere?”

“No,” he quickly assures him. “I just…there's this certain someone I can't stop thinking about, and…Ji, it's wrong!”

“I don't like the sound of this,” he states calmly. “Go on.”

And Felix does, spilling all his hurt, feelings of emptiness, and worthlessness. Telling him how you mend his heart, fill his entire being with happiness, and make him feel loveable. He confesses how he can't stop thinking about you, worrying how messed up this could get.

Jisung lets him ramble on and nods gently once he's done. “That's fucked up, mate.”

“I know,” he whispers.

“No, I don't think you know how bad that bitch fucked you up,” Jisung says, and Felix is too stunned to speak for a second. “Fucks sake, Lix! Where's my pretty boy getting all the girls, huh? When did you get all shy and scared? Did she fuck up your self-esteem that badly?”

“Ji, you're missing the point here,” he insists. “Everyone would think I'm using her, she's eight years younger. They'll make her a victim and-.”

“Lix,” he cuts him off firmly. “I'm that victim you're describing here, you do know that, right? My hubby is ten years older, Hyune’s wife is six years younger, and no one gives a fuck,” he tells him. “The thing you really can't take is the fact that she's your daughter's best friend.”

“That surely doesn't help,” he groans.

“Well, technically-.”

“She's my daughter, you can try and twist this how you want,” he shakes his head. “And she'll hate me if I act upon my feelings for Y/n.”

“All she wanted was for you to be happy. Why not with Y/nnie?” he asks gently. “Listen, buddy, you gotta figure out what you really want and then act accordingly. Stop sending her signals if you don't want this to evolve into something more.”

“I know,” he sighs softly. Fuck.

“Can you get the eggs?” you ask him as you pour some sugar into a bowl, weighing its content as you do.

“Sure,” Felix nods and his hand rests on your lower back for a brief moment, notifying you of him standing behind you to stop you from bumping into him.

You swallow softly at the lingering touch, and it's already gone again before you can't think much of it. Felix got home from the studio about an hour ago, and you two decided to surprise your best friend with a cake for her birthday tomorrow. At least she had planned to come back again for it. After quickly buying the ingredients, you two got busy in the kitchen. He's unusually clumsy, your hands brushed against each other four times already since you've started and you already bumped heads, both wanting to grab something off the floor he dropped. The brief touches and his soft eyes combined with that shy smile are slowly driving you insane.

Once you're all done you put it in the oven and set a timer, cleaning up the kitchen for now. You'll still need a few things for the icing later but you get rid of most of the mess for now. After loading the dishwasher, the 25 minutes are over, and Felix carefully takes it out. You leave it there to cool and throw yourself on the sofa.

Felix joins you and turns on the TV, putting on the next episode of the series you've recently started watching together. After a while, your head slowly drops onto his shoulder and it takes him a moment to realize you fell asleep. He cautiously wraps his arm around you to make you more comfortable and lets you rest against his chest. He tries not to think too much of it and chews on his lower lip nervously as he tries to pay attention to the screen.

As much as he tries to fight it, he's exhausted from their intense practice today, and his eyes grow heavier with every minute. It doesn't take long and he falls asleep as well, getting more comfortable and dragging you down with him in his sleep.

You wake up in his arms, your head resting on his chest. Your eyes widen in shock, and you fight the urge to jump up and get as far away from him as possible. You barely dare to lift your head. Glancing down at him, your heart skips a beat at how soft and vulnerable he looks in his sleep. His chest is slowly rising and falling, his hair hangs into his face and he looks so soft it makes you want to squish his cheeks. You admire the beautiful freckles painting his face as the fading sun caresses his golden skin. Gosh, he's pretty.

He moves in his sleep, tightening his grip around you and rolling you both onto your sides. Burying his face in your neck, he lets out a content sigh and pulls you in close. You bite your lip and curse yourself for wanting this so badly. You should really wake him up…but you couldn't. Not when he had a long day and finally got some rest. Not when he looked this content and peaceful. You couldn't.

You timidly rest your chin on his fluffy hair and wait for a moment, but he doesn't seem to mind. Carefully, you fondle his back and rest your hand between his shoulder blades. He doesn't stir one bit, and you decide to try sleeping some more as well.

You wake up again when he stretches in your arms, pulling back with a soft groan. Felix squints at you drowsily before he slowly picks up on your current situation. A blush creeps up his neck and colors his cheeks and ears. He pulls away and rolls onto his back with a soft sound, rubbing his face tiredly. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“For what?” you ask gently.

“Uh…this,” he awkwardly gestures between the two of you. “I uh…I tend to get cuddly when I fall asleep. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or-.”

“You didn't,” you say firmly, and he slowly glances at you.

“No?” he asks quietly.

“Not at all,” you assure him, and he hums gently in response. “You seemed like you needed it, so I let you sleep a little longer.”

“Oh,” he nods dumbly and searches your eyes timidly. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” you nod and smile at him. “I think we can finish the cake by now.”

“Probably,” he laughs and sits up.

The pair of you soon gets busy in the kitchen again and Felix turns on the mixer to finish the icing for the cake. It's a little too fast, and some of it lands on his sweater. “Fucks sake,” he curses softly before slowing it down.

You laugh at him, and he turns to you, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, you got some on your face,” you giggle and step in front of him. You cup his face gently with one hand, rubbing your other thumb across the icing on his forehead. “Keep still, Lixie,” you say and don't quite notice his lips parting at the new nickname. You move further down, wiping the bits on his cheek off, and only then you meet his eyes. They're wide and filled with thousands of questions and insecurities. “You're okay?” you ask worriedly.

Felix blinks at you before very slowly shaking his head. “I'm not okay,” he says, and you turn off the mixer, bathing the room in silence.

“What's wrong?” you ask and want to pull your hand off his face, but his hand wraps around your wrist keeping you there.

“I…,” he trails off, sinking deeper into your eyes, and you can see the sudden longing in them. It's pure and innocent, making you all dizzy the longer you look at him. “You're driving me nuts,” he confesses.

“Breathe,” you tell him before experimentally brushing your thumb over his lips. He exhales shuddery, eyes fluttering close at your touch. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“What?” he squeaks, eyes snapping back open.

“You heard me,” you say and tilt your head at him. “Can I?” Felix gulps before nodding timidly. You close the distance between the two of you, and your lips brush against his. A soft, quiet sound escapes him and then you're cupping his face and kissing him. Felix melts into the kiss, body searching yours as he grips your waist and stumbles a little, shoving you against the kitchen counter. He pulls back only to catch his breath and presses his forehead against yours. “You're okay?” you ask again. This time, he nods.

“Yeah,” he whispers with a soft smile. “I'm okay...”

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaa-sia @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits @mellhwang @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @palindrome969 @harshaaaaa

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fictioninmyblood · 5 months

Text

I Meant That Shit

Summary: N’Jadaka gets tired of waiting for Y/N to forgive him and come home, so he decides to let Killmonger bring her back, kicking and screaming if necessary.

Warnings: 18+, noncon/con, smut, D/s themes, Entitled and pissed Erik being devious. Shouldthere be a warning for angst?

A/N: This was supposed to be short, but here we are. Enjoy my sexually starved thoughts.

A/N: Also, idk if this needs to be said, but I write for my demographic - black females. This has been my disclaimer/notice.

A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

After his reluctant rehabilitation, there weren't many things that brought out his killer instinct anymore. However, it seemed that lately, despite all the sparring, therapy, and meditation sessions, Erik couldn’t shake the urge to knock some sense into his girl Y/N.

A few weeks prior when she told him she needed space and couldn’t stay in Wakanda and ignore her life anymore, he said some things. She took it the wrong way and told him they were over, as if.

When she first left, Erik was sure she’d break down and FaceTime him or use the kimoyo beads he taught her to use. She was always more vocal about missing him, so he just assumed she’d break down and restart their communication. Imagine his surprise when a whole two weeks rolled by without so much as a text, call, or video chat. He was desperate for anything from her, even a verbal lashing, but by the time a month came and went, he felt like a fiend going through withdrawal.

During week six, his excitement to finally lay his eyes on Y/N was quickly cut short when he realized she was still talking to his family even though he had been getting the silent treatment. That displeasing information lit him like a powder keg when he saw another man in Y/N’s background, getting dressed no less. T’Challa dragged him from Shuri’s lab ready to bust a gasket when his babygirl asked Shuri to go into a different room and his little cousin actually listened! His whole family was against him again it would seem.

When T’Challa got him back to his room, all he did was pace. It was ten full minutes of the king warily watching his cousin stew when M’Baku walked right into the line of fire as Erik turned to beat the shit out of his cousin. T’Challa easily dodged the current threat on his life as the giant grabbed Erik’s hands in one of his, quickly disarming him and making the pouting man even more enraged.

“You all have been talking to her this whole time?” N’Jadaka roared.

“Just Shuri and I. She made us promise to let you figure it out for yourself, but you’ve been failing miserably cousin! Absolutely clueless!” T’Challa replied.

Erik struggled against M’Baku’s vice grip to no avail.

“No shit Sherlock. I’m gonna whoop yawls asses. M’Baku let me go.”

“Not until you promise to have a conversation with your mouth instead of your hands. I am not prepared to get involved in another war between you two.”

Erik took a few deep breaths. “Fine, I’m good.”

Once M’Baku was sure there would be no immediate violence he let go.

“You better start explaining real fucking soon T,” Erik spat, pointing an accusatory finger at T’Challa.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N is struggling to accept that you actually want her around long term!” T’Challa word-vomited.

If the prince wasn’t already enraged, the king and tribal chief would’ve laid out in hysterics at how N’Jadaka’s face screwed up. “How sway! How?!”

“From what Shuri has explained and I’ve gathered in my eavesdropping is that she thinks you only want to claim her without actually growing with her. Everything is on your terms, your way, in your time. She’s been far more patient than most would be with you so I can’t say she’s wrong.”

Erik jumped at T’Challa, scaring him and the big gorilla chief. “I oughta beat you up for keeping your mouth shut.”

“She and Shuri threatened me within an inch of my life and they scare me more than you. Besides, according to them, you can’t keep relying on us to figure out what’s going on in your relationship and I couldn’t find a valid disagreement.”

Erik nearly did slap T’Challa at the last sentiment.

“Aye aye!” M’Baku shouted, getting between the two yet again, “He is being truthful now. That counts eh? And if I may interject, I think you’re aiming your anger at the wrong person.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Erik said, deflating under the weight of that truth, “but his ass still bout to pay me back and I know just how.”

————-

A few hours later…

“You know, when I told you that you could pay me back with The Royal Talon Fighter, I didn’t expect you to tag along.”

“Who else was going to keep an eye on our Wakandan technology or keep you from murdering anyone in the vicinity of Y/N, especially any man?”

Erik rolled his eyes and huffed. “I guess.”

“Or Y/N from killing you for just showing up jealous despite being radio silent since long before she left Wakanda.”

“Alright alright! You made your point. Damn! Just drive the fancy metal.”

—

Erik was all confidence until the second they landed in Atlanta. Yeah, Killmonger was out for blood and was ready to bring their girl back kicking and screaming if necessary, but Erik N’Jadaka Stevens? He was a nervous fucking wreck.

T’Challa and M’Baku’s words really struck a nerve and he had nothing but time to stew over them on the ride to your family’s hometown ranch. Before he met you, Killmonger made all the decisions, kept him alive and ahead of the game, whatever game he was surviving at the moment. He lived like that for well over a decade when he met you, but you didn’t bat an eyelash at his swift mood swings, his bloodthirst, or his possessiveness, often putting him in place. You handled him with love and care, showing him how to become the softer version of himself without sacrificing your boundaries too much. He was quickly realizing that he sometimes pushed too hard, took too much, neglected your requirements. It was your stern patience, however, that was enough to allow you to become the first person to get him the person instead of him the killer to come out and communicate, interact, and live rather than survive.

You did it for him a second time around when he came out of cryo too. He hadn’t told you anything about how he would go about his goals, opting just to disappear and execute so it was a surprise of a lifetime to wake up to your beautiful Y/E/C. After getting over his initial anger over you seeing the worst of him, you were the first person he responded to or let touch him during his recovery. Even going so far as not allowing the medical staff to redress his wounds if he was awake.

Only your touch soothed him, only your voice gave him peace. You made him less of a killing machine and more human again, made him want to address the tsunami of emotions and trauma that he lugged around. He didn’t want to jeopardize your willingness to be that for him but he recognized how you were always giving all you had just to receive an inch of progress from him. If that.

Unfortunately, all of his introspection and nervousness flew right out of the truck T’Challa had them in when he saw you walking up to your personal guesthouse with a man in tow. Killmonger immediately took the reins pushing him and his feelings down into the abyss, and leaping out of the car before T’Challa could come to a complete stop with his cousin calling after him.

“Y/N!” Killmonger shouted from the end of the long-ass driveway, rage evident in his voice.

Y/N was haphazardly trying to get her drunk cousin up the stairs while nervously dropping her keys when she heard Killmonger. She’s only encountered him a few times since meeting Erik, after the first time she brought him back to himself, he did his best to keep that part from her. It didn’t always work since any repressed feeling or issue the man had was poured into his alter ego, feeding his desire to be wild and untamed in his decision-making. So she knew he was out for blood with just the sound of her name.

She got the key in just as Killmonger got to the beginning of her walkway up to the house. As quickly as she could, she pulled her cousin in, slamming and locking the door in her partner’s face, leaving the beast to bang on her door and demand entrance.

“I’m not dealing with your bulldozing tactics Kill! You can come back when Erik is ready to face his fucking feelings and have an adult conversation!”

“If you know what’s good for you and that nigga in there, you better open this ghatdamn door Y/N!” He roared in response.

Y/N’s cousin couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how much she waved him off. Getting trashed 3 nights in a row after a bad breakup and crashing with his favorite cousin after hearing how she was hiding from both the world and the love of her life as well didn’t prepare him for seeing her so out of character. One second she was fleeing from the man, the next she was big and bad from behind a locked door in all her 5’5” glory. It was comical as hell to him.

“You know you look constipated when you cuss? Like that stick in your ass is fighting every syllable.” He said, immediately dying in another fit of laughter at his analogy.

“Who the fuck is that in there with you, Y/N, and don’t fucking lie!”

“The next man. Nice to meet you. You must be the ex.” her cousin shouted out in a drunken slur to Y/N’s horror.

Yeah, she knew she wasn’t in the wrong, and there was no reason to defend herself against this man, but she knew not to press certain buttons once Kill made an appearance. Her cousin, unfortunately, had no discernment to see that he had just pressed the biggest red button Kill had when it came to her.

Y/N watched the myriad of emotions that crossed Erik’s face through the peephole, praying to every ancestor and display of the creator she could think of that this man wasn’t going to go full psycho-killer on them both. The last thing she needed was him taking several steps back in his healing just to unnecessarily add another scar, maybe 2 with how pissed he looked.

Y/N turned back to her cousin, ready to kill him for putting her in even hotter water, only to find that nigga was sleep, leaving Y/N to deal with the consequences on her own.

As soon as she had that thought her ears piqued, taking in how silent it had gotten. All she could hear was the crunch of gravel as T’Challa finally pulled in and got out. When she peeked outside the peephole again, she was met with a confused T’Challa looking for Erik.

A chill ran up her spine and her blood ran cold as she slowly turned to her current worst fear; Killmonger pissed as hell, staring her down with a knife to her cousin’s throat.

“Give me one good reason not to paint your brand new carpet with this nigga’s blood Y/F/N then fuck you on the new color.”

Putting her hands up in a placating manner, Y/N slowly inched towards Kill, stopping when he dug the knife just slightly deeper, exposing a thin line of blood, as her cousin slept unawares.

Donning a submissive voice as if she was talking to a wild animal, “Erik, baby calm down.”

“Don’t baby calm down me! You out here giving other niggas what’s mine? Mine Y/N!”

“That’s not–”

“Don’t tell me that’s not what’s going on when you’ve been M.I.Fucking.A. for weeks! And the first thing I see both on video chat and in person is you with some random?! I’ll murder every nigga to ever touch you, keep tryna play me.”

“Nobody’s playing you Daka, look closer, you know him. I promise I haven’t been stepping out on you.” Y/N continued on, internally rolling her eyes at the toddler temper tantrum she had to placate this nigga out of. “My stupidly in love, trying to escape his own heartache, and loves drama when drunk cousin that you have met several times was just egging you on.”

Kill looked closer to the man’s face and released the filter of rage clouding his judgment, upon closer inspection he realized they’d met at several of the many family gatherings he’d attended with Y/N/N. Slowly easing the knife from her cousin’s throat, Erik struggled to fight back tears at his behavior. He was proving he wasn’t good enough for her, he hadn’t actually changed all that much. Kill took the reins once again, unwilling to let him process his feelings of abandonment and betrayal just yet. Rushing towards Y/N, he laid the knife flat on the side of her face, taking up residence on the other side.

Biting a huge hickey along her jawline, before grasping her earlobe in between his teeth, Killmonger growled, “So if you ain’t been fucking him, who you been fucking?”

Although Y/N knew she logically had nothing to feel guilty about, how he was questioning her made her want to lie down and worship him as an apology regardless. She took a deep breath to center herself, understanding that any sign of nervousness would be taken as an omission of guilt.

Y/N ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulder blades to hold his face in her palms. He reluctantly released her earlobe to allow her to face him, naturally allowing the blade to rest against her neck ever so gently.

“N’Jadaka. Erik, baby? Look at me, I have been trying to live without you miserably for the last few weeks. I’ve only been going out since Y/C/N got here and I have to beg for breaks because I’m basically his chaperone. You believe me don’t you?”

Erik looked at her with suspicion clouding his eyes. He dropped the knife and held her throat in his hands, squeezing just tight enough to hint to either pleasure or pain, pushing her against the front door.

“Ion know. Why should I?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N took a chance and palmed his face, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Cause you know that no matter how much you stress me out, isolate yourself from me, or threaten anyone who seems to have more access to me than you, that I love your crazy ass.”

Erik squeezed a little tighter, not enough to hurt her but enough to reassert his dominance. Y/N put a hand over his, doing her best to ground herself in the feeling of his hands rather than how much she wanted to cum from the pressure of them.”

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked out, “I love every version of you, no matter how threatening any of them may be and I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you?”

“Nah, princess, the other part.”

“No matter how threatening-” she started, but was cut off by the growl emanating from Erik’s chest and the pulsing release and pressure of him allowing her small gasps of air. “You know what I mean Y/N, don’t test me lil mama.”

Erik held his squeeze on her neck, tilting it ever so slightly to lick the side of her face and hold her earlobe between his teeth, tugging.

Y/N couldn’t hold back the guttural moan if she tried. Just barely keeping her eyes from rolling back and donning her sweetest sub voice, she said, “I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me big daddy. It literally makes me nauseous.”

Erik released her ear with a wet snap against her face, “It does?”

Y/N hummed and nodded her head as best she could in her current predicament.

Killmonger covered the forgiving face Erik started to make, replacing it with one of his stern, unyielding looks. “Then why you leave me and give me the silent treatment for weeks?”

Y/N whined at the tightening of his hands, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure only he could illicit lighting her body on fire.

Erik bit her bottom lip roughly, nearly drawing blood. “That’s not an answer.”

Losing the battle against her libido and subspace, Y/N whined again.

In a faux sweet voice Erik said, “Awww, is little mama already too far gone in her head thinking about all the ways imma mark you.”

Y/N nodded again, lost in the many images she’d acquired from her sexual experiences with Erik and Kill over the years.

“Good.” And with those words, Y/N was suddenly looking at Erik’s ass and the floor as he stomped upstairs to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He tossed her on the bed and roughly stripped her of her clothes, halter top first, bottoms and panties all in one fell swoop last, leaving her heels on.

He positioned her over his knee and popped her cheeks until her bottom was flushed with his favorite shade of reddish purple and warmed his hands with the heat she emanated.

By the time he was done, Y/N wanted to be a ball of tears, but could only sniffle, her voice too shy to make an appearance when Kill took the reins of their scenes like this for fear of upsetting him further.

Erik used his knee to spread her legs open far enough to see her flower drenching her thighs in her nectar for him. He took two fingers to swipe some of it onto them for him to put in his mouth and savor, groaning at how much sweeter she seemed to have gotten since last he held her.

He laid her onto the bed and got up to undress himself, slapping her already sore ass when she didn’t move a muscle.

“You know what’s up. Face down, ass up lil mama.”

Y/N groaned but slowly inched her way into position. Already feeling like jello, she barely put an arch in her back, struggling not to lay back down and pass out.

Killmonger was not happy with that. After he’d removed everything except his grills and chain he let both his palms come down on her cheeks simultaneously.

Sounding more animal than human, “If you don’t assume the position like you got some sense, I swear to the gods Y/N.”

She was still lethargic, but was eager to experience less of his painful assaults and more of the pleasurable ones that she knew were around the corner. It took all of her strength but she was able to inch herself into position, deepening her arch just the way he demanded with her arms by her side and her cheek resting against the comforter.

“Good girl.”

With how pliant she was to his commands and the evidence of how much she trusted and wanted him dripping down her thighs, it took all of his restraint not to plunge himself into her until he felt her cervix try to push him back out.

Y/N smiled faintly at the praise, humming and wiggling her ass in response.

Killmonger grasped her wrists as he knelt to get up close and personal with his pussy. He spread her lips so he could get an eyeful of her throbbing clit and blew on it, eliciting a guttural moan from Y/N, before replacing his hand back on her wrist.

“Just you wait mamas, you gonna be screaming and crying by the time I’m done with you.”

He licked her juices on both thighs, leaving hickies all over them both before he finally put his whole face in her pussy and ate. If it wasn’t for the grasp he had on her wrists, she would have collapsed immediately.

Erik was a good kisser in general, but Killmonger was a master at french kissing, especially her pussy, until she was questioning whether or not she still wanted the pleasure. Those deep soul sucking kisses always made her question her sanity.

He slurped up and suctioned her clit into his mouth like that’s where it belonged, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until she came with a silent scream, without ever releasing her tiny bud. Then he released it with a pop only to hold her lips open and spit directly onto her hole, watching his saliva drip down onto her clit. He flattened his tongue and licked like the dog he could be until she was a whining, moaning mess, tears streaming down her face just as promised.

Once the first sound hit his ears, she couldn’t stop the noises he was pulling from her if she was mute, let alone at the mercy of his insatiable thirst for her most animalistic responses.

Kill continued his assault with his tongue, moving through her folds in a rhythm only he knew. After he’d gotten two more orgasms from her that way, Y/N alternating between screaming and crying, he latched his plush lips back around her clit, assaulting the sensitive bundle of nerves, and plunged his two most trustworthy fingers into her, immediately finding her gspot and caressing it with an incessant ‘come hither’ motion until she was squirting and creaming uncontrollably. Not willing to let go just yet he dragged it out for what seemed like forever since she briefly lost consciousness and came to, lips still parted in the O of her silent screams, with his mouth still eagerly slurping up the waterfall his fingers were responsible for. All Y/N could do was turn her head the other way to watch what she could see of him, whining and moaning.

When she could barely release any more spurts he released her, licking his hand, fingers, and forearm clean as he slowly stroked his hard as steel member.

In the great deep of her sex haze, Y/N mumbled, “He brought dick too? How are we gonna survive dick too when he almost killed us with just his mouth and fingers.”

Erik chuckled at her ramblings, proud that he was, as usual, responsible for her senseless words.

When his precum made an appearance, he swiped it up with his thumb and rubbed it into her pussy, almost immediately replacing his thumb with the tip of his dick. Wanting to savor this moment of finally being able to reconnect with his pussy, he played with her, just like that. Rubbing the tip of his dick in both of their juices, up and down her pussy lips, circling her clit, and coming to apply just enough pressure to her desperately clenching hole, only to rinse and repeat. On and on he went, teasing them both until his quietly whimpering babygirl was back to guttural whines.

He knew she was right where he wanted her mentally when she started begging.

“Please big daddy, I’m so sorry. Please baba E, please baba, please. Please please please please please pleaaaaaasssssseeeeee.”

When he was good and ready, he pulled her up by her throat until she was flush against him, licked her tears from her cheek, and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t do that disappearing and silent treatment shit ever again Y/N. You hear me?”

Y/N nodded and blinked at him with a puppy eyed look that damn near melted the ice caps of his attitude, but he was quick to remind her who’s big daddy in their relationship.

“When I told you, you were mine, I meant that shit mama.”

“Yes, baba,” Y/N squeaked out.

He tongued her down with one of his sloppy french kisses and as soon as he felt her body relax in his hold, he did exactly what his body had been begging for since the second he saw her. He pushed himself into her until he felt the tip of her cervix try to push him all the way back out, savoring the fucked out look she wore as her body spasmed with the unexpected orgasm, he held them there letting her ride it out.

In this moment he was grateful for the years of curated discipline since the way her pussy clamped onto him almost triggered his own mind numbing orgasm. Although he successfully staved off his nut, he couldn’t stop the way all of his fight was knocked right out of him. Finally rid of the aggression that his Killmonger personality oozed, Erik was able to finally take in his queen, his Y/N, in all her sex hazed glory.

When she finally came down from her high he started moving, giving her slow and deep strokes as he showered her face and neck with kisses, hoping his attempt at lovemaking showed her just how priceless she was to him, how desperate he’d been without her.

Kiss, “I’m sorry too mamas,” kiss “I know how much you love me and I don't understand why,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “insist,” kiss, “on pouring all of the best parts of yourself into me.” He couldn’t help but shed a tear at the relief he felt, having her in his arms again. “I promise to do better,” kiss, “to listen and pay attention more,” kiss, “to treat you like the empress you are,” kiss, “just say you’ll come home with me,” kiss, “promise you’ll take your rightful place by my side mamas,” kiss, “claim your right as my queen.”

Y/N was a moaning, whining mess, barely holding onto consciousness and shedding her favorite kind of tears, just as promised.

Erik tucked his face into her neck, struggling to keep himself from cumming too soon since her pussy was gripping him like a boa constrictor, indicating that yet another orgasm wasn’t too far.

He held himself in the deepest parts of her and put a little whine in his hips. “Please mama, come home with me.”

Just when he thought he could hold out no longer she arched into him and screamed yes over and over, overwhelmed with her orgasm, and squirted all over them both. Erik came in her almost at the exact same time, his orgasm nearly knocking him out with how it overcame him from head to toe. Both of them slumped into the bed.

—

By the time he finally started to get up, her screams had quieted back to whimpers.

Erik slowly and gently removed her heels from her feet, massaging the soles with just the right amount of pressure.

He cleaned both of them with a warm washcloth and ran the tub, placing some bubble bath soap, epsom salt, essential oils, and dried rose petals in the water. Wanting to balance out the intrusive way he barged back into her life, he lit some candles and incense as well, and placed his favorite body oil of hers on the counter.

When he came back to get her in the tub, she was silently staring into space in the same place and position he left her. After he got her to turn over and sit up, he scooped her into his arms bridal and brought her to the tub, gently placing her into the suds.

Once he saw her relax he went back to the bedroom to strip and change the sheets, wanting their transition back into the room to be seamless. When he came back into the bathroom her head was leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and tears were streaming down her face, alarming him to the fact that although he’d won the battle, he was still losing the war with treating his girl with the care she really was looking for from him.

Choking up himself, he kneeled next the tub and leaned over her face, kissing the droplets left behind.

“I’m so sorry mamas. You know that right?” His voice cracked at the end.

Although she started nodding yes, she ended up shaking her head no.

“Can you open your eyes for me please?”

Y/N shook her head no again.

“Pretty please?”

Again she shook her head no. She was too scared to look him in his eyes, anytime he touched her or they made eye contact she folded to his desires and needs, abandoning her own.

A little defeated, but determined to win all of her back, not just her body, Erik switched tactics.

“May I get into the tub with you and hold you?”

Y/N hesitated a few moments before she nodded yes. As soon as she heard the rustle of him standing back up she scooted forward allowing him to sit behind her.

Once he was seated, Erik gently pulled her into him, urging her body to use him as she did the edge of the tub. The moment she relaxed in his embrace, head lolling slightly to the left, he started kissing up and down her neck from where her ear met her face to her collarbone.

When he felt enough time had passed, he tried to get her to open up to him again.

“Lil mama?”

Y/N hummed.

“Tell me what’s on your mind please, I promise to listen.”

Y/N held up her pinky and asked, “Pinky promise?”

Erik locked his pinky with hers and brought her hand to his lips, softly talking against it, “Pinky Promise.”

She pulled her hand away, putting it back in her lap to join the other one, under the water.

Taking a deep breath she started.

“Am I a toy to be played with Daka?” Erik was ready to answer but kept silent, knowing she needed to get all of her thoughts out before he interrupted her. “To be taken out of storage to be used and then tossed aside when you’re not getting the desired result anymore?”

Rubbing the sides of her thighs and suddenly very scared, he said, “ no mamas.”

“Then why do you get to demand time and attention and energy from me, but when I ask for a sliver of honest communication, the smallest amount of all three resources you have to offer me, you shut me out? Why is it only okay for you to communicate what’s going on with you and us when you feel like it, when it's convenient? Why do I always have to beg for you to lean on me, to use me softly? Why do I have to beg you to let me hold you. Why don’t you ever just ask? Why do I have to grovel at your feet to be held by you? Why is the only time you make love to me when you’re trying to win me back? Why?”

By the end of her list, Y/N was sobbing. Erik wrapped his arms around her body and tucked his chin in the curve of her neck and let a few tears drop himself before he answered.

“I don’t know mamas. I guess…,” he wiped the tears from his face and gulped down the rising tsunami of emotion that she so easily created with just a few sentences before he wrapped his arm back around her, “...I guess I’m just terrified.”

“Of what baby? Haven’t I been here? Haven’t I done the best to support you with all that I am, to remain honest with you and show you that I am loyal to our future?”

He kissed her shoulder and said, “you have. I just-”

Y/N pulled out of his arms to finally look him in the eye, “You just what? Aren’t my efforts to build a life with you enough?”

Erik palmed her face and gave her a deep kiss, hoping to transfer all of his emotion into it.

He put his forehead against hers and said, “I’m just so fucking terrified of losing you. To have the warmth of your love snatched away at a moment's notice. I’m terrified in a way I haven’t been in so fucking long that I just convince myself that its better to pull away and show you how unworthy I am of the full magnitude of your love.”

He pulled away and kissed her forehead, grateful she was finally looking him in the eyes again. “But this time of separation showed me I am nothing without you, just a hollow shell, no love to warm my soul and bones. Even the care and concern of my family isn’t enough to fill the abyss that’s created in your absence.”

Y/N swiped away the stray tears from his face, “that’s-”

“I know. Super intense.”

“Yes. But I was gonna say a relief to hear. You never really give me any verbal confirmation that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you unless I say I love you first.”

“I know mamas, but I promise to do better, be better, for you.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “No Baba. For you. You need to talk your feelings out loud so you can hear it too. You need to know that the only reason you’re able to love me so deeply is because you love yourself that deep, if not deeper, first. Understand?”

Erik smirked, yet again grateful that he had such a wise and loving partner who always held up the pieces of mirror he’d sworn he’d broken to pieces.

“Yea lil mama, I understand.”

“Good…,” Y/N kissed him again, deepening the kiss but teasing him slightly with how lightly she moved her lips against his. When she pulled away, she almost regretted bursting his bubble. “...cause I’m not going back with you until I’m ready.”

Erik’s face instantly fixed itself into a scowl. “But-”

Y/N held a finger to his lips. “I said when I’m ready, not never. I came home to get back to taking care of me, love me, and understanding what my needs are.”

His pout deepened.

“And I learned that I need to stop jumping when you say jump. So I go back when I feel that I’m ready, not because you showed up and demanded it of me. Okay?”

He was a little deflated, but still holding onto the hope of her eventually coming back with him.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until you’re ready.”

“But-.”

It was Erik’s turn to hush her with a finger. “I already know what you’re going to say and my duties will be waiting for me when we go back together. Now that you’re back in my arms I’m in no hurry to lose the privilege again.”

“You’re not!”

“You’re right, cause I’m staying.”

All Y/N could do was chuckle, understanding that she’d lost this battle and relishing in the fact that she won the war. It seemed he was finally starting to understand what she needed because although she was indeed going to complain about him having responsibilities to return to, she really did need him to stay. That abyss he had was mirrored in her heart and only time with him would close it back up.

Both satisfied that they worked through the root issue, they went back to enjoying the bath, Y/N comfortably resting her head against Erik.

When they were all pruney and the water was verging on cold, Erik stood them up to drain the tub and turned on the shower to rinse them both. After he dried them both, he quickly lotioned his body with shea butter, grabbed the body oil and guided Y/N hand in hand, back into the bedroom.

He laid her on her back first to moisturize and massage her front, kneading out all of the tension she held. When he was working his way back up from her feet, he couldn’t help but get stuck between her thighs, using his thumbs to massage circles up them until he reached her pussy again.

Y/N slightly parted her legs, letting one bend and fall open for easy access. He immediately used one hand to part her lips so he could see her clit clearly.

Erik leaned down to softly kiss her clit a few times before he pulled away and used the thumb on his other hand to rub slow circles. He admired her form as he brought her to orgasm leisurely.

He went back to massaging her thighs until she returned from the heights of her pleasure.

His voice was more gruff than he wanted when he told her, “turn over.”

She easily compiled and continued his massage, paying extra attention to her sore ass.

When Y/N was 2 more seconds away from sleep and he was satisfied with his work he urged her under the covers and joined her. She tried to grab his hardened member to return the favor but he grabbed up her hands, kissing them to soften the blow.

“No, I needed to show you how softly I can treat you, I don’t need to cum right now. Sleep.”

Y/N pouted and whined, wanting to feel him connected to her again.

She lifted her leg over his as they faced each other and inched as close as she could with her hands in his, feeling his dick graze her pussy lips.

Putting a little more base in his voice, “Ay! What I just say lil mama?”

She whined out, “I don’t care, I just need to feel you in me Baba.”

Erik grunted.

Y/N donned her best puppy dog pout and begged with her words and body, wiggling in his hold and being able to feel the lightest brush of his hot skin. “Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee?”

“Fine, but careful what you asked for…” he said, sheathing himself in one stroke and stilled her hips before she could start moving. “...you just might get it.”

He released her hands and tongued her down, palming her face.

“Sleep Y/N.”

“But,” she said, her face scrunching in confusion.

“You can keep me warm, but that’s it for now, okay?”

She started to whine again but was cut short when he wrapped the hand palming her face around her throat.

“Sleep mamas. You’re going to need all of your energy in the morning.”

She wasn’t necessarily happy, but she also wasn’t necessarily dissatisfied. She did get her wish after all.

“Ok.”

Y/N tucked her head under his chin and started to drift before she sleepily said, “thank you for showing me how much you care Baba E. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Erik kissed her forehead and squeezed his arms a little tighter around her.

“Thank you for letting me.”

He was answered with her cute snores and let the sound lull him into the best sleep he’d had in too long of a while.

#erik killmonger #erik kilmonger x reader #Erik killmonger x black!reader #black panther fanfiction #black panther #erik stevens #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik stevens x reader #fictioninmybloodworks #fictioninmyblood #erik stevens x black!reader

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jennifer-jeong · 2 months

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[Smut] [Xavier x AFAB!Reader] Innocent Valentine

CONTENT

Xavier is no so innocent this Valentine's day NSFW, 18+, smut, afab (assigned female at birth) reader, feminine reader (he calls you a "good girl"), oral, penetration, creampie, orgasm, spanking, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOUR NOTES

I'm very late to the Valentine's day idea but whatever LOL Yes I mildly plagiarized the last lines of dialogue from my own post please don't roast me.

Word Count: 794

Xavier being the innocent gentleman that he is brings a condom on valentines day for you two to use after the banquet. He’s such a sweetheart and doesn’t want to put any pressure on you so he asks you so many times if it’s okay for him to kiss you. Little does he know what’s in store for him.

You immediately have your hands all over him and he thinks it’s because of the alcohol, but you know it’s because you fucking want him right now.

You skip the formalities and quickly have his cock down your throat. “Mmph! F-fuck!,” you hear him moan above you as he sits on the couch while you’re on your knees. Your throat making sinful noises as you stuff yourself full of him, your cheeks flushed, and your core aching with need.

Xavier didn’t want to be too rough with you, your relationship was just getting started and you haven’t been intimate too many times yet. But, with the way that you were acting, he gave an experimental buck of his hips into your mouth and you immediately grabbed his hands to tangle in your hair. He paused, a little confused, as you stopped bobbing your head on him, but quickly figured it out. He pulled at your hair to give you some delicious pressure on your scalp. With barely any delay, he starts fucking your mouth, relishing in the warmth, enjoying your moans, and the ungodly wet sounds your throat is making.

Xavier takes control from here since you’re too drunk and fucked out already, he moves you to the bed but lays you on your stomach on the edge so you’re still half standing. He moves to start to finger you to get you ready for his size but pauses as he remembers the condom in the pocket of his pants he took off. You quickly speak up before he can go find it.

“I can’t fucking wait anymore, please just fill me up baby,” you say, looking back at him with intoxicated eyes as you spread yourself open with your hands. Your slick glistening and creating sticky strings on your thighs.

“Fuck…” He doesn’t hesitate to bottom out and you nearly scream. He pulls all the way out and starts a relentless pace as he slams back into you.

“Yeah? Mm- This is what you wanted right?” He says as he grips the plush of your ass while pounding into you at a ridiculous speed. Xavier was much more feral for you than he let on and you didn’t mind it one fucking bit.

“Y-yes! Please- mmphhh fuck!~ feels s‘good baby…” You moan in response between sobs. His raw cock drags so deliciously against your walls that you continue to drip arousal all over your pretty boyfriend.

“Such a fucking good girl for me,” he says in a deep voice you don’t usually hear and it makes you clench on him. His hips stutter for a second as he moans. He plants a firm slap on your ass and you let out a high pitched sob, enjoying the stinging pain left behind.

The sound of skin slapping and your mixed moans fill the room as he builds both your orgasms. As he feels his near, he flips you onto your back wanting to see your face, wasting no time in folding you in half to fuck deep into you.

“Y’fill me up so good- nghh… thank you baby,” you say as he kisses your cervix with his tip. He swears he can see hearts in your eyes as he kisses your legs in response.

He wraps an arm around your leg to reach his thumb to your clit, you gasp at the extra stimulation and claw at the sheets, feeling yourself quickly reaching your high.

“Ah- ah! Nghh- I’m fucking cumming baby please keep fucking m’like that.”

“Mm? Yeah? Cum f’me, pretty girl, wanna feel you cum on me.”

And with that, your waves of pleasure wash over you as your body shakes. Your moans are uncontrollable due to how good it feels from him still pounding you at the same pace while his thumb toys with your bundle of nerves.

You’ve made a ring of cream at the base of his cock at this point and he tumbles over the edge with you as your pussy twitches as you cum. His thrusts irregular as you say “cum in me please- wan’ it so bad…”

A few more thrusts and he stops, fully buried inside you, both of your arousals flooding out of you.

“Fuck… Since when did you want to become a mom?” He jokes between catching his breath.

“Your fault you fuck me like you want to be a dad,” you joke back.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST <3 ||

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #xavier x reader #reader x xavier #love and deepspace xavier x reader #xavier smut #love and deepspace xavier smut #j's silly ramblings

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arxxq · 3 months

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𝐖𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑..

[ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 <3 !! ]

writing for my favorite characters: itoshi rin, akabane karma, sano manjiro

itoshi rin - mentions a guitarist reader,

akabane karma- mentions of rivals troupe,

manjiro sano- grumpy girl x sunshine boy,

: any mistakes will either be left unedited or will be edited when I do so, english is not my native language so be warned, I do not support plagiarism, do not steal my works, mentions of female reader in my head but not to worry it's all gender neutral, if used she/her pronounce it's because I imagine the reader as a female I apologize for that :

"a beauty just like your melody..." :

: itoshi rin is someone who's known to be cold and reserved to most others, some find him to be unapproachable and some find his demeanor is intimidating and some admire him for his talents, achievements and his hard work which makes it hard to believe he had someone to begin with..but he did and it was with one of the most talented guitarist in the whole school [name]. no one knew what was going on between them but some just assume they were just close friends since childhood but little did they know the two of them had a little thing going on,

it was after school, there they were one strumming their guitar while the other listened to their playing. the teal eyed man had his gaze on them so mesmerized at their beauty. once they finished [name] felt like they were being stared at so they giggled and looked at him. "did you enjoy the song or was your mind occupied somewhere else?" rin was unfazed but he let out a small chuckle which was very rare. "yk I love you right?" they were taken aback but laughed. "more than soccer?" the boy rolled his eyes "I hate to admit but I do love you more than soccer" :

"I hate you...I hate myself for that too"

: Everyone knew the hatred [name] held for akabane karma and I think it goes the same way for him as well, they were rivals since junior high even. [name] hated that red headed boy for everything, how he was better than him in most things, how cocky he gets, his behavior. basically everything. what made them hate despise him more was that he was always either one or two above her. it was time where mid years were about to come, [name] was in the library studying and it was late at night, by now no one was in the library except them and the librarian. They were getting tired and their mood was ruined. what made it worse was when they heard that voice.

"Oh well you look at that, it's miss perfect studying" that annoying voice rang in their head. "What do you want akabane?" she said with a hoarse voice. "In fact what are you even doing here," the boy studied [name]'s face and how visibly tired she looked. "Just returning a book...you should get a break you know and try and not get too worked out?" They scoffed. "I'm serious...you shouldn't get worked up," [name] glared at him. "Why the fuck do you care?" The boy was getting annoyed by their stubborn behavior. "Well believe it or not I'm not a dick like how you see me to be," he yelled. Lucky for them the librarian didn't hear "I hate you...I hate you I fucking do. I hate how you always manage to one up me, how you don't care about what people say to you, how you don't care about fitting it...I hate you and I hate myself for that" [name] admitted. The boy was taken aback. "Well believe it or not I don't hate you....I never did so let's start a new beginning for me and you?" He sat down beside you and smiled "I'd..I'd like that.."

"You're always so grumpy cheer up!"

: sano manjiro, [name] did not know how they got together in the first place because in the beginning of the year they were complaining about how immature Mikey is and how he keeps skipping class. they also complained how he is in a gang which isn't really good but now here they are together with him. At first [name] found him intimidating and everything but after getting to know him he was basically just such a big baby and pain to deal with. In their relationship they're basically the grumpy one one in the relationship.

"[Name] let's get dorayaki!" Mikey says ecstatic while the girl was not in the mood at the moment. "No please let's not I'm too tired for this Mikey!" She complains. "Come on loosen up" he drags her to his motorcycle. "Mikey don't you dare drive at an insane spee-! Mikey!" From afar draken and Emma were laughing at their odd relationship. "Those two are really something aren't they ken?" Draken laughed. "they really are"

Authors note:

my favorite characters <3 but if you ask me between all my favorites karma will always have a special place in my heart ngl. You don't know how much I love assassination classroom to this day. It will always have a small special place in my heart and I honestly don't mind that at all.

sincerely your dear author !

-Arxx/Hasinah.

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2baabbies · 2 months

Text

🖤 Knee Socks (Changbin x Reader) 🖤

Crossposted under 2Babbies on Ao3 <3

(decided to crosspost this today for all the changbin fuckers, I hope you like it 🫶🏻)

Pairings: established frenemies changbin x reader, to lovers

Words: 4100

Summary: Changbin stops by uninvited to pick up the jacket you borrowed from him. You are annoyed that he has interrupted your down time on your day off, but maybe he’ll find a way to make it up to you?

(inspired by the Arctic Monkeys song!!)

Humour + Fluff + Smut

afab + fem!reader

CWs: reader and binnie are mean and they swear at each other but they actually looove each other, playful insults are thrown around, picking on your crush to hide your real feelings??, jokes about murderers/getting murdered, gamer girl!reader, changbin projects on reader based on how she’s dressed (but they’re both down bad so it’s fine)

Smut Tags: taunting/teasing, explicit consent because consent is sexy, big dick changbin, changbin sock fetish, slight dom dynamics but reader and bin are both kind of switches in this one, changbin going down on reader, some edging, vaginal fingering, begging, praise, slight degradation, handjob, mutual/guided masturbation, dirty talk, confessions during sex

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

The fourth phone call in three minutes prompts some concern, so you forfeit your competitive match to give the caller your full attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“What are you doing?” Changbin responds casually.

“I’m trying to rank. Is something wrong?”

“Rank? Christ, are you playing that stupid game again?”

“Felix is two whole levels above me!”

“… So?”

“Felix isn’t even good, he’s not allowed to be two levels higher than me!”

There is a pause on the other end and you think he may have hung up before he speaks.

“So that’s what you’re doing? Wasting your day away on your computer?”

“Why are you complaining? I went out with you and Chan last night. And I don’t have another day off for two weeks, so I have to grind as much as I can today. And fyi, you’re putting me at a disadvantage. I just left a match to answer your stupid call because I thought you were getting murdered or something. That could’ve been a win.”

“You think I would call you if I was getting murdered?”

“Yeah, I think you would. You know why? Because you’re stupid.”

“Hey hey hey, be nice.”

“What do you want? You’re wasting my precious time.”

“You stole my jacket last night, e-girl, I’m here to get it back.”

“I’m not an e-girl- wait, you’re here? Right now?”

“Wasting away in the lobby. Waiting for someone to come and murder me.”

You stand up from your chair and pad out of your room to your intercom. You hang up your phone and shout into the speaker.

“Quit loitering, shithead!”

“Fuck you!” Changbin shouts back.

You unlock your apartment door then buzz him in.

“Doors are unlocked. Your jacket is on the couch. Get your shit and get out.”

You hear him giggle maniacally as he opens the now unlocked lobby door and roll your eyes before returning to your bedroom. You quickly queue for a new match and put your headphones on. You join in immediately and the sound of Changbin entering your apartment is drowned out by the sounds of the game. You think you hear him say something from the other room but you opt to ignore him to maintain your kill streak. The match ends with a win and Changbin startles you as he speaks up beside you.

“You have an addiction, you know that right?”

You pull your headphones down and glare at him.

“Dude! What are you still doing here?”

“Look at this,” He picks up one of the many empty energy drink cans scattered across your desk, “You’re going to have a goddamn heart attack. I told you to lay off these. And your desk is a mess!”

“Shut up! Why are you in here?”

“You left your door unlocked. Not safe. That’s how murderers get in.”

You groan.

“Stop lecturing me! You were two minutes coming up, at most.”

“Yeah, but what if I wasn’t? And what if there was a murderer who was waiting just outside your door? Did you think of that, Ms. Noise-Cancelling-Headphones?”

“But there wasn’t a murderer! You’re just an idiot!”

You spin your chair towards him, clenching your fists in exasperation. He huffs and crosses his arms, his blue jacket slung over his broad shoulders. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he swallows before looking away.

“What the Hell are you wearing?”

You look down at your attire as you sit cross-legged in your gaming chair. You had expected to spend the whole day inside, so your outfit was not exactly guest appropriate but it suited your personal comfort level just fine. You are wearing a thick oversized sweater that drapes over your lap, no pants, topped off with fluffy socks that cover your legs and end just above your knees. The sweater hangs low, doing little to cover your chest and cleavage, and the socks squeeze the plush insides of your thighs. Normally you would have been more embarrassed dressing this way in front of your friend, but Changbin had not been invited into your room and you were still annoyed at him for taking up your personal time.

“What’s wrong? They’re just my pajamas.”

“You sleep in that? Fuck, you really are an e-girl.”

You roll your eyes.

“It’s comfy. And look, the socks have beans.”

You lift your leg to show the bottom of your foot, where cat paws are printed on the socks. He slaps your leg down firmly.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why? There’s beans!”

“I can see that.”

You notice a dark blush dusting his cheeks as you go to lift your leg again. This time he holds your leg down by your thigh to prevent you from lifting it.

“Would you stop that? Have some modesty will you?”

“Modesty? They’re cat socks.”

“And you’re wearing them like some sort of pervert.”

You curl up in your chair and turn back to your pc.

“Lee Know would appreciate them.”

“Yeah, he probably has a catgirl fetish. He’s your target audience.”

You glare softly at him.

“I’m telling him you said that. And there’s no audience. This is just how I dress when I’m alone.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s not supposed to be weird men in my room!”

He blinks in surprise then gapes, offended, at your words.

“I am not a weird man. Take that back.”

“You just called me a pervert. Because of cat socks.”

“I’m sorry! But don’t flash me!”

“Flash you?”

He points at your lap, and this makes you blush. All you see is the gap of bare flesh not covered by your sweater or your socks. You throw your hands up in defeat as he gestures impatiently, and his attention on your thighs suddenly makes you self-conscious. You slap your hands down to cover them.

“There! Happy?”

“Not that! You were- your legs- just don’t spread your legs open when you’re not wearing any clothes, yeah?”

“These are clothes.”

“You’re not wearing pants, and you might not be wearing underwear either.”

You scoff.

“You think I’m not wearing underwear? Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“I’m not a freak.”

“Prove it.”

You peer at him.

“That I’m not a freak?”

“That you’re wearing underwear.”

“You’re weird as fuck man.”

You kick your legs up on the desk, knocking a few cans to the floor in the process. Changbin grumbles about your slobbish habits and picks the cans up, then storms out of your room. You wait a moment for him to return and when he does not, curiously get up from your chair to check on him. You spot him in the kitchen from your doorway and pause to watch him. He has his hands braced against the counter and his head lowered as he takes measured breaths. He notices you out of the corner of his eye and looks at you, his jacket is still slung over his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Your eyes flit over his arms, flexing as he grips the counter. Then they roam over his black shirt, tightly fitted over his biceps and abs, then down until they land on the unmistakable bulge in his slacks. You look back up to meet his gaze. He looks wrecked, watching you with heavy eyes as his cheeks burn with shame.

You jump as something falls in your room and hits the floor, bringing you both out of the silent trance you had been in for who knows how long.

“What was that?”

You shrug.

“Murderer. Ghost.”

“Ghost?”

“My apartment’s haunted. That’s why I never have anyone over.”

He laughs with a hint of strain.

“You’re funny.”

“Changbin.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll go, just give me a second,” He rasps.

You do not give him a second. You clear your throat and tug your sweater off in one quick swoop. He stares, wide-eyed, as you toss it to the floor and cross your arms. You stare back at him, wearing nothing but a comfy sports bra, your underwear, and your knee socks. The underwear are lame, not even a cute pair. They are the kind with a little satin bow, pink with faded prints of flowers and bunnies, and a small rip in the frilly waistband. There is nothing sexy or enticing about them.

Changbin’s cock strains against the zipper of his pants, no doubt aching to be released. He exhales slowly as his eyes skim over your body. He audibly swallows then looks away.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked woman before. You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

He groans and throws his jacket to the floor then begins crossing the room, tearing his shirt off next in the process. You back up into your room, tripping over another discarded can then falling back on your bed. You sit up just as he enters the doorway. Suddenly, he pauses. He grips the top of the doorframe, giving you a clear view of his muscles at work. You nonchalantly check him out as he pants softly. Then, he points at you.

“You’re the devil, you know that right?”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

“Are you trying now?”

You gnaw on your lip and eye his crotch again lazily. Then you shrug.

“Not particularly.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Look at how you’re dressed.”

“I didn’t dress to impress anyone today, Binnie. Who would even see it? Look at me, why would I wear ratty underwear and a sweaty sports bra if I was trying to look sexy? I’ve been a good girl, you’ve been the bad boy thinking dirty thoughts.”

You emphasize your statement by propping your legs up and spreading them open. He shivers and takes in the clear view of your scantily clad figure.

“y/n,” He says seriously, “I need to know before we go any further if you want this? I’ll stop the moment you ask, I promise, but I want to know before I do something stupid if you even want to keep this going or if you’re just teasing me. Because I… really want you, and I think I’m gonna lose it if we keep this up for much longer.”

You smile and respond softly.

“I trust you, Binnie. I know you would never hurt me. So whatever you want to do, you can do it to me.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“Take your panties off, please.”

You smirk at his hesitant order but obey it. You hook your thumbs into the elastic of your panties and slide them off, taking your time and keeping your legs spread as you complete the process. He watches you greedily, drinking in the sight of you as you pull your bra off next. You discard both garments to the floor carelessly, then dip your thumb in the cuff of your sock and begin pulling it down.

“No. Leave those on.”

You pull your hand away, fluttering your fingers playfully and tilting your head. He finally enters the room, crossing slowly and kicking the can away when he meets it. He stops at the end of the bed. You hold your breath as he stares down at you, and watch as he reaches down to caress your ankle then gently grasps your calf. You let out a shaky breath right before he drags you to the end of the bed by one leg. You gasp as the bottoms of your thighs come flush to his knees.

He meanders fixing your knee socks one at a time. He tugs them up to hug your thighs and runs his thumbs just under the bands to touch the soft skin beneath. You shudder when he looks at you, then grabs your other thigh and squeezes both of them. Your legs quiver as he holds them open and massages underneath your thighs.

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?”

You nod and he shakes his head.

“Say it.”

“I’ll tell you. But I don’t want you to stop. I really don’t want you to stop.”

Changbin falls to the floor on his knees and grips the tops of your socks, he then hikes your legs over his shoulders. You gasp and clench your fingers in the bedsheets when he dives in to lap at your pussy. You throw your head back and release a pitchy moan as he slowly mouths at you. His fingers curl to stretch the fabric of your socks and your thighs hug his face as he prods you open with his tongue.

Despite how ruined he looked and how wired he said he felt, he eats you out with an astounding amount of restraint. He rolls his tongue inside between filthy open-mouth kisses, eyes boring into yours as he makes obscenely wet noises. You are not sure if they come from his saliva or your arousal, but it makes your core ache nonetheless. You throw one hand against your forehead and slap the other down on the bed as he continues his tortuous pace.

“Changbin,” You whine, the last part of his name fading off in a squealing moan.

“Mhm,” He peppers a few kisses on the insides of your thighs and nuzzles his cheeks there gently, “What is it, baby?”

“Stop teasing…”

He punctuates his response with a long, deep, kiss right on your clit. You cry out in frustration as he smirks down at you.

“No.”

“Binnie…”

“You teased me, it’s my turn, honey.”

You huff and mewl as he resumes eating you out.

“But I… I didn’t…”

He groans, rumbling your heat as he does so. You buck your hips and moan as he begins picking up the pace, then breaks away. You whimper and glare at him as he licks his lips clean.

“Stop…”

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks breathlessly, “Or do you want me to give in to you?”

“Will you please just fuck me?”

His breath hitches at how soft and desperate your voice sounds. He shakes his head and brings his lips to your heat again.

“Why?” You cry, tears pricking as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.

“Shhh, patience, baby. Patience.”

You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you grind against his face. He finally grants you relief when he props his elbows on the bed, your thighs still straddle his face, and he pushes three of his fingers between your folds. He buries his face in your heat and fingerfucks you, continuing to do so until you climax. You can only make mindless, breathy, sounds as he stimulates you through your high. You grip the bed sheets and squeeze your thighs together on instinct, mind going blank as pleasure pulses endlessly through your core. He holds your thighs open and continues suckling at your clit, watching you fall apart from his tongue.

Slowly, he stops and lowers you on the bed. He lets your legs fall to his sides and presses chaste kisses over your thighs and abdomen. Your legs twitch and you let out a wrecked moan as your pussy throbs. His hands roam sweetly over your thighs, petting and soothing you to relax.

“There you go. Good girl. Wasn’t that worth waiting for?”

You make a short, annoyed, sound.

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

He chuckles and stands up, unzipping his slacks and pulling them down. You let your head loll to the side as you watch him. His cock pitches a tent in his boxers, standing proudly as he shucks his pants off. He takes his time rolling the band of his boxers over his length, no doubt enjoying your attention. You bite your lip as he strips himself down then kneels beside you on the bed. You run your hand over his thigh and give a teasing squeeze, then look up for his reaction.

“Mhm.”

“Well?” He murmurs.

“You’re big.”

He snorts, his cock stands proud and drips precum as he moves over you.

“Yeah. It’s a pain.”

“Not for me.”

“Oh? You can take a big dick right now?”

He taps his fingers against your pussy and chuckles when you whine and roll away. You glare over your shoulder as he rubs your hip.

“You’re still too sensitive, baby.”

“And whose fault is that?”

He rolls his eyes.

“My fault for giving you an amazing orgasm, I guess.”

“Yeah, how are you going to get your dick wet now? Stupid.”

His cock jumps and he groans softly at your chiding.

“I’m not.”

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

Your tone is more insecure than you wanted it to be, but there is no way to take it back now. Changbin’s eyes soften and he rolls you over to face him. His hand comes to cup your cheek as you avoid looking at him.

“Is that what I said?”

“No.”

“Right. Do you need to hear me say it?”

You nod shyly and he shoots you a soft smirk.

“I want you. I need you. You’re so beautiful.”

You laugh softly.

“Okay-”

“I want to make you feel loved. I want to take care of you.”

“Oh, so now you want to be romantic? What happened to the teasing and manhandling?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Well, that was when I was hungry, baby. I’m not thinking straight until I’ve had my fill.”

He leans down, hovering his lips over yours.

“Are you thinking straight now?” You murmur.

“No. You’re still making me crazy.”

You giggle and brush your nose against his.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Kiss you?”

You nod timidly. He chuckles as you both close the space between you and share a slow, sweet kiss. You sigh into his mouth as he pets your cheek with his thumb.

“What about now? What do you want me to do?” He asks.

“Fuck me?”

“Hah… I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, baby.”

“Pretty big talk for a guy that got hard over socks.”

“Well. They are on you.”

“Shut up.”

You kiss again, a bit more heated. Changbin melts into your arms as you pull him closer and he grinds against the crease of your hip. You giggle as he moans and chases the friction a second time.

“Can’t fit your big dick in my pussy? Just gonna hump me like a dog instead?”

He groans and raises his hips up, his cock still hangs and drags over your abdomen.

“You’re so rude. I’m being so sweet to you.”

“Gonna cry about it?”

“Would that turn you on?”

You shrug and give a teasing grind against his thigh. He curses softly and drops his head.

“Don’t make me beg, I might really cry then,” You laugh and he whimpers, “Please?”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

You giggle and roll away for a moment to grab lotion from your bedside drawer. When you turn back he shoves his face into the crook of your neck and lets out a shuddery breath onto your chest. You clutch his head close and kiss his forehead as he props his leg over yours. You lube your fingers then slip them between your bodies and around his length. He jerks his hips impatiently as you stroke him slowly.

“y/n…”

“Yes, baby?”

“F-Fuck…”

“You like that?”

“Mh-hm.”

He pants and pulls you closer as you work your hand around him. He curses and throws his head back to gaze up at you. Your touch slows as you watch his lips part in a small whimper.

“Please,” He breathes, “I’m so close.”

“You’ve been such a good boy.”

He nods and cries out in frustration as you slide your hand up his abdomen. You scratch your nails over his chest and gently direct him.

“Wanna come? Go ahead, Binnie. I want to see you touch yourself.”

He makes a choked noise and leans up to brace himself over you.

“That’s not fair,” He takes a shuddery breath, “I helped you.”

“I am helping,” You pout, “What? Are you saying you can’t get off? This isn’t enough for you?”

He looks down as you dip your fingers between your legs and play with your clit. He curses at the soft sounds that escape your lips. He steals another kiss and slowly begins stroking himself over you. You giggle and murmur quiet encouragement against his lips as you lazily pleasure yourself.

“Wanna come, Binnie? Wanna come on my pussy?”

“Y-es…”

He kisses you again, hard, as his movements become faster and uncoordinated. You cup his cheek and allow the fingers between your legs to graze absentmindedly over your sex. He slowly breaks away and gazes into your eyes as he works himself to release. His eyes fall shut and he groans your name.

“Come on, baby. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck,” He gasps.

He jerks himself through his climax, moaning desperately as he spills his cum over you. You watch his expression intently as milky streaks fall over your abdomen and crotch. You glance down and spread the sticky substance between your fingers, then look back at him. He watches you through fluttering lashes and pants into the shared air. Then, he smirks and leans down to share a wet kiss. When you part he kisses your cheek then collapses on top of you, nuzzling your neck.

“I love you.”

You scoff.

“I make you jerk off to me once and that’s all it takes for you to fall in love? You’re pathetic.”

He whines in protest.

“I loved you before that, bitch. And, I’ve jerked off to you many times-”

“Ugh, you freak…” You respond with no animosity.

He laughs breathlessly and heaves a tired sigh. “I mean it. And not just the masturbating part.”

You snort and listen to his labored breath slow then settle into a tranquil rhythm before breaking the silence.

“I know. I love you too. Even if you get turned on by socks.”

Changbin laughs and squishes his face against your cheek. You turn your head and press a loving kiss to the bridge of his nose.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” You mumble before granting him another kiss.

“Mhm… I will… later.”

You gasp as he goes to pull you closer and gently keep him at an arm’s length.

“Ah, I’m dirty.”

“Yeah, you are.”

You laugh then make a disgusted noise as he pulls your hips together and kisses your neck. You melt into his arms and let him cradle your head to his chest. You sigh and nose sleepily at his shoulder.

“You better clean me up.”

“M’yeah…”

“M’serious…”

“Mh-hm…”

You relax and doze off embracing each other.

You wake again hours later. No light peeks in from the window, the only thing illuminating your room is your desktop screen. The red numbers of the 24-hour clock beside your bed tell you that it is midnight. You fight your way out from where you are tightly tucked into bed. Changbin’s shirt covers your figure as you sit up then slip out of bed. The shirt falls just above the top of your knee socks, leaving a sliver of skin peeking out. You finally notice Changbin, seated in your gaming chair and just wearing your headphones and his boxers, focused on the game playing in front of him. He has cleaned up the desk and his jacket is folded neatly over the back of the chair. You watch in silence then tiptoe over as the match finishes.

“What are you doing?”

He jumps and throws his hand over his chest as he looks at you.

“y/n!”

“Why are you playing my game?”

“... No reason.”

You take the mouse from him before he can queue and open your profile. He smiles sheepishly when you gape at your stats.

“You brought me up five levels?”

“Did I?”

“I didn’t know you could play.”

“What, you really think Felix leveled up all by himself?”

You blink as you process his words then grin and fall into his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek.

“Thank youuu.”

“Don’t thank me, just get better so you don’t have to play so much.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault! All my teammates suck.”

“Mhm, that’s what they all say.”

You roll your eyes and rest your head on his chest.

“Still, I appreciate it.”

“Do you?”

“Mhm.”

“Wanna show me how much you appreciate it?”

You smirk.

“Yeah. What do you want me to do?”

His thumb glides down your clothed leg then back up again.

“You don’t have to do anything, baby.”

“I don’t?”

“I’ll just let you have this seat and then I’ll take care of the rest.”

You stand and watch him rise then turn to fall to his knees as you fall back in the chair. He smirks and pushes his shirt up out of the way, then draws your legs over his shoulders.

#stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #skz x you #stray kids x you #changbin x reader #changbin x you #changbin x y/n #changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

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satrs · 9 months

Note

k9 for kaiser please!!!

To the event

FEATURING; KAISER MICHAEL x FEM!READER

୨୧ TAGS; NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! pwp. Size kink. unprotected intercourse. dirty talk. petnames(sweet little girl). cervix fucking/belly bulge.

୨୧ WC; 0.3k

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

You felt your heart pumping in your throat, and his dick too.

“What’s the matter? Cat caught your tongue?” The way the words left his mouth was almost mocking, smug smile adoring his sharp lips as his hand caressed your cheek lovingly.

Your mouth agape and thighs clenching with each movement of his hips, feeling his massive girth stretching your small cunt almost painfully.

He knew. He knew how big he was, and how your whimpers indicated how far he stretched you out, and how his tip is tickling your cervix with each rough trust of his hips.

He loved every second of it, eyes not wavering from where his dick sank into you, heavy breath leaving him as he noticed a small bump forming at the bottom of your tummy.

“See? I’m right. There.” With each pause he did an experimental thrust into you to see the bump disappear and appear again, prideful smile plastered on his lips.

His hands made quick work to your thighs, folding them in half to get a better angle, low grunt escaping him as he felt your tight pussy clench around him, almost trying to suck him in.

“Micha’, I’m so full.” He chuckled at your weak voice, firm grip on your thighs, making sure they stay in place as he put some of his body weight on you, easily covering your small frame.

“I know you are, I can see”, he teased, one hand creeping down to push down onto the bump on your tummy, ripping a exhausted whimper from you.

His blood pressure was running high with each drilling thrust he did, large hand abandoning your tummy to squeeze one of your tits, easily covering them with his palm.

“My sweet little girl,” his breathing turned ragged as he neared his end, sweat covering his forehead while his thrusts turned irregular, “taking me in so well.”

He knew that you were close again by the sound of your small cry, cooing you to calm you down. He was no where finished, not until he molded your tiny cunt into the shape of his cock.

“Just a little more, mkay?”

#my work 𓆩⟡𓆪 #lec writes!۵ #blue lock smut #bllk smut #michael kaiser smut #michael kaiser #michael kaiser blue lock #blue lock #blue lock x female reader #blue lock manga

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vanteguccir · 2 months

Text

Sleeping prank | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Nick pranks Chris and Y/N while they are sleeping.

Warning: None.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I know I posted a Matt x reader just some hours ago, but I just watched the triplets' vlog in Texas and had this idea, I've never written so fast 😫.

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Nick walked towards the double bed closest to the hotel room's door, their vlogging camera in his right hand, while his left hand held a bottle of lemonade.

He slowly approached, raising the camera so that the lens caught what was on top of it, or rather, who. Y/N and Chris were still fast asleep, both covered by the fluffy white blanket.

The girl was lying on the left side, that is, closer to Nick. Her head was lying on Chris's right arm, using it as her personal pillow, while the boy's left arm was around her shoulders covered by one of his t-shirts.

The only visible parts of the couple were their heads - which were practically on top of each other - and Chris's bare shoulders and arms that were slightly shivering from the Texas cold. Unfortunately, the room's heater didn't seem to be able to combat the coldness completely.

Nick couldn't see, but he was sure their legs were tangled under the blanket. He joked that when they slept together, they seemed to melt into each other with how close they were.

As the oldest triplet got closer to the bed, the camera was able to capture the small snores that came out of Chris's half-open mouth and the soft sighs that escaped Y/N's nose, both sounding like a lullaby to each other.

Nick pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter as he anticipated the couple's reaction. He loved playing pranks on them both, especially when they were sleeping.

"Chris, do you want a sip? Y/N?" Nick's voice sounded low behind the camera as the lens captured him, raising his left arm, the bottle entering the frame, bringing it closer to the couple's faces.

Chris, being a light sleeper, woke up seconds after. He lifted his head slightly as he tightened his arms around Y/N, pulling her closer - if that was even possible.

That movement woke up Y/N, or almost. The girl opened her eyes slightly, keeping them in a thin line, exhaling through her nose before closing them again, seeming not to register Nick in front of her.

"Hmm?" The questioning sound escaped Chris's throat. He turned his head from side to side slowly, trying to understand what was happening, his messy hair falling into his eyes.

"Do you want a sip? I think Y/N must be thirsty, too." Nick continued, his cheeks turning red from the effort he was doing while trying not to laugh.

"What, Nick?" Chris's voice sounded for the first time, the hoarseness making his words almost intelligible. The sound made Y/N open her eyes again, this time a little wider.

She lifted her hands, which were previously under the blanket, and brought them to Chris' ones in front of her body, intertwining them, shivering at the contact of her hot skin with her boyfriend's cold one. A sound of discomfort left her lips as she finally noticed Nick in front of her, holding what looked like a bottle. She quickly closed her eyes again, feeling too tired for whatever that was that Nick wanted.

"It's lemonade. Do you guys want a sip or not?" Nick prevailed, moving the bottle closer to their faces.

"If you drop that on me... I'll kill you." This time, it was Y/N's voice that sounded, equally hoarse and tired from the previous day's filming with Sam and Colby. She only opened one eye this time, looking at Nick but not really being able to focus on him, her vision blurred by sleep.

"It's lemonade." The standing boy spoke again, letting out a low, almost imperceptible laugh. He knew he would get yelled at when the couple actually woke up.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Chris responded, stretching for a few seconds without letting go of Y/N's hand, pulling her closer against his bare chest and burying his head in the crook of his girl's neck, exhaling the natural scent of her skin.

"Go away, Nick." Y/N spoke again, finally closing her eyes completely with the comfort of her boyfriend's body heat against her own, a happy sigh scaping her mouth.

They both fell asleep again within seconds, as if nothing had happened.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"the way they sleep so close together, being all cuddly and everything 🥺"

"Chris and Y/N are such couple goals"

"I've never seen a cozier bed in my life 😫"

"dear Santa Claus ✏️📄"

"I want a boyfriend who cuddle me while we sleep like I'm going to run away at any minute 😭"

"Nick is a real pest LMAO"

"Nick holding himself back from laughing behind the camera 😭"

"Chris and Y/N's sleepy voice 😔"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all!! 🩷💋

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monstersandmaw · 6 months

Text

Male orc x gender neutral reader (light nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Commission number two folks!

Content: Gender and body neutral reader who’s autistic deals with sensory overload while at a funfair, stimming includes rocking and pressure on the hands. Male orc offers a way out so the reader can catch their breath. Very brief mention of the orc losing a close friend in the past year, and of deciding to live more in the moment because of it. Light-ish nsfw at the end with a bit of a fade to black.

Wordcount: 7562

Three hours ago, you’d been sure you could handle this. How could you not? It was a day out with your friends for Lily’s birthday, but of course, the orc had chosen the modern equivalent of a jousting tournament to show off her skills to her girlfriend. Still, you and Luke and Ellis had met up and made your way through town, collecting Lily and Maggie outside a gelateria, where naturally you all paused to buy the most amazing ice cream in town. With a start like that, how could things possibly go wrong?

After a leisurely walk to the fairground on the outskirts of town, you’d watched Luke win a fluffy white rabbit toy that was almost as big as he was on the coconut shy, despite the way the game was obviously rigged, but the werewolf had wagged his shaggy grey tail and howled his victory to the sky and clutched his new friend to his chest like it was his own goddamn child, and you’d clapped and cheered along with everyone else at the soppy wolf.

You hadn’t noticed the way you'd started to grip one hand with the other, squeezing tightly with finger and thumb just to give a little release to the steady buildup of pressure inside you as the atmosphere of the fanfare closed in around you. You also didn’t notice that you were gently rocking from side to side on the spot while you waited for Ellis to decide if he was going to go and say hi to the girl he’d been crushing on for a while, so when you found a teenager staring openly at you from the queue for the paintball stand, you assumed their attention was on Ellis.

Ellis usually attracted looks, not only because he was a goblin — a species that was relatively rare in your part of the world — but because his storm-grey skin was mottled all over with pale patches from vitiligo. He wasn’t bothered by the attention for the most part, but when you saw exactly where their gaze was directed instead — at your twisting hands — you felt an ugly stab of something bitter go through you. Carnivals may not offer the outdated and heartless ‘freak show’ elements anymore, but boy were you made to feel like one sometimes by other people.

“Hey, look!” Ellis exclaimed, his scratchy, reedy voice cutting through the maelstrom of noise and crush of people easily enough. “There she is! I’m gonna go see if she’s up for a ferris wheel ride. You think she’ll say yes?”

Your nod came out jerky and a bit stilted, but you mustered a smile of encouragement for your friend and he grinned back at you, all his sharp teeth glinting in the sunshine. Then something shifted in his expression and he frowned. “You ok?” he asked as his completely black eyes went a little wider with concern.

Again, you nodded and tried to look a little more convincing. After weeks of dancing around each other, he was finally going to shoot his shot, and there was no way you wanted him to miss because of you. “Fine,” you croaked. The word came out like a cat hocking up a hairball, but at least you got it out.

“Ok. Text me, alright?” he said. “Text me if you wanna go.”

You nodded. No way were you going to be the reason everyone left. If things got bad, you’d just… bail. Somehow. If you could find your way out of the crush of people without imploding first.

Glancing right, you saw Lily raise the hammer on the high striker and watched her muscles bunch and flex in her arms, shoulders and back. She was wearing a black tank top that said, ‘If lost, return Butch to Femme Fatale’ and beside her stood pint-sized Maggie in her denim hot pants and white t-shirt that read ‘Femme Fatale’. It was adorable, honestly, but as you stood there alone in the stream of people coursing and jostling down the avenue of grass between the smaller stands and side-shows, over-stimulation swamped you completely and you found yourself drowning silently.

Flashing lights, blaring funfair music, screaming, children running this way and that, rides rumbling and rattling on all sides, electronic bleeps and jingles mingling into a cacophonous mixtape in the air and reverberating in your head, cartoon pistol noises on the laser gun range sounding over and over and over, more screaming as the pendulum ride swung overhead once again…

The sensory overload raked its claws across your skin and left you with white noise in your head and cotton wool in your mouth.

The scent of candy floss grew chokingly thick in the air as you just stood there, paralysed.

Out of nowhere, a small and extremely solid lizardfolk kid barrelled into you, nearly knocking you flying. His horned head collided with your thigh and it hurt, but you didn’t cry out. His father scooped him up by the hand and apologised to you, but when he saw you rocking from side to side, he snatched his kid away and shot you another look, as if you were contagious or dangerous and not just struggling to kick start your brain again so you could get yourself the heck out of there and find somewhere safe to process everything.

Struggling to catch your breath, you gripped one hand with the other, squeezing as hard as you could but it wasn’t enough. There was just too much, inside and out, and you had nowhere to put it — nowhere to park it all until you could deal with it.

Someone ducked in front of you, their huge form blotting out the searing light of the afternoon sun.

Blinking, you looked up, still rocking, and tried to focus on their face.

He was an orc, you realised when you saw the huge, jutting tusks in his lower jaw and the expanse of sage green skin. A long, thick plait of black hair hung forward over his left shoulder, and through it ran a streak dyed a dark, vibrant red that was really attractive; it complemented the green tone of his freckled skin beautifully. Wearing a white, sleeveless tank top that had the logo of the fairground company on it, he wasn’t built like he spent every spare minute in the gym, but he looked like he could have lifted the ferris wheel right off its supports with no trouble at all.

Someone snickered nearby and you flinched, but you didn’t break the steady rocking motion of your body while mentally you tried to fend off all the unending stimuli around you. The orc’s expression darkened when he caught the sound of laughter, and he stepped pointedly a little to the left. The movement served to block you from their sight and to refocus your attention on something that was quiet and solid and steady in front of you.

Yeah, he was solid alright. You blinked and watched the corners of his mouth twitch upwards just a little behind his colossal tusks, both of which bore silver caps over the tips to indicate that he had reached full maturity in the eyes of his culture. It probably meant that his tusks were filed to sharp points beneath the caps too. It was rare for orcs who lived in the city to stick to the older ways, but as you continued to stare up at him and move side to side while you ran your hands over your forearms, you noticed the beads in his braid of different materials: wood, copper, steel, glass, stone, and even bone. He’d lost someone close to him then at some point. Gods, now was not the time to be fishing everything you knew about orcs out of the depths of your brain.

For another few seconds, he continued to shield you from the staring judgement of the people in the queue for the nearest booth, but when you didn't seem to be able to settle, he jutted his chin to the side of the grassy avenue between the stalls.

“My name is Rhokann. You wanna step this way for a second? Catch your breath where it’s a bit quieter?” he said.

When no words came to your lips, he tilted his head just a little and then beckoned you with a big hand. “There’s a quieter spot over by that oak tree and the river. You want to come with me for a minute?”

You did. You also wanted to say thank you, but the words got glued up on their way from your brain to your mouth, so you just nodded.

He stuck out his arm and halted the flow of people for a moment to usher you between the candy floss stall and something else that was painted a thousand lurid colours so you didn’t look too long at it. Only when you saw the bole of a huge, old oak and a wide patch of un-trampled grass around it did you let out a shaky breath and turn to see him standing a little way off. A couple of people peered after you down the gap between the stalls, and he looked back at them with a very articulate and animalistic growl. That done, he stepped a little to his right, obscuring the view of you down the small alley with his body.

“Forget about them and look out over the river for a minute,” he suggested.

His dark brown eyes slid from you to the railings behind you, and you turned to see the river gushing in a white foam over the weir that controlled its flow through the city beyond. The sounds of the funfair behind you faded slowly, dissolving into the steady stream of white noise from the river, and you took a deeper breath and gradually released the death-grip you’d had on your own hands.

You let your gaze unfocus a little, but your body kept on moving as it tried to help you dissipate all the tension that had been building in your muscles and your mind ever since you’d first arrived at the fair.

A shadow moved in the corner of your vision, and you found Rhokann approaching slowly. He cast a pointed look at the metal railing to your left and said, “You mind if I join you for a moment?”

You shook your head. The word ‘no’ didn’t want to come, but he didn’t seem to take it as rudeness.

“Cheers,” he said. “Carnival gets intense, huh?”

This time, you nodded and he smiled when he saw it. You liked the way it hitched his mouth up around his tusk on the right, and it brought a twinkle to his coffee-brown eyes.

“Take your time,” he said. “You here with your friends?”

You nodded.

“They know where you were?”

You shook your head, but reached into your pocket and drew out your phone. Shaking it a little, you hoped he’d get the idea that they could contact you if they wanted to find you, or the other way around, and he smiled again in understanding. Your heart skipped a beat. He may have been seven and a half feet tall, but he had a gentle demeanour that you hadn’t really realised was possible in someone that big. He had a paunch too, which he clearly wasn’t trying to hide with his close-fitting, sleeveless top, and you could see from the scoop of the neckline that he had an attractive swirl of dark hair across his pecs that made you wonder what the rest of him looked like without clothes on; a fact that was startling enough in that moment to make you flush hot and look away.

“You want me to keep you company for a bit, or do you want some space?” he asked after another couple of minutes floated past.

You shook your head and then struggled to find the words to make him stay just a bit longer. When he saw you floundering, he smiled and asked, “Stay?”

You nodded, exhaling in relief, even as you fought off a rush of disappointment in not being able to form the words.

“You’re good,” he said with a wave of a huge hand. “Don’t stress talking.”

He took a deep, luxuriant inhale and leaned his massive forearms on the metal railing, easing his weight forward and gazing out at the river. His braid went all the way to the small of his back and it made you want to wrap it around your hand and tug just to see what kind of sound he’d make, and again, you had to look away before he caught you lusting after him. Just because you’d been rescued by a heroic stranger, didn’t mean you had to go falling in love with him in the following five minutes. It didn’t hurt that he hadn’t batted an eyelid at your stimming, or that he didn’t seem bothered by the fact that you’d been rendered almost completely non-verbal by the whole experience.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket a while later and you drew it out again to see that Lily was looking for you.

‘Where are you, Titch?’ she’d texted and you smiled when you saw the nickname. The massive orc had given it to you back in college, and it had stuck ever since. Even Ellis called you ‘Titch’ sometimes, despite the fact that he was nearly a foot and a half shorter than you. ‘We turned around and you’d gone!’

Rhokann was watching you from the corners of his kind eyes, and you waggled the phone again before typing out a message to Lily. ‘Needed to step away for a second. Got rescued by a super hot orc guy. More at ten.’

Lily texted back immediately. ‘Super hot orc guy, huh? I’ll be the judge of that. Where are you?’

‘Big oak tree on the edge of the park near the river. Don’t embarrass me please.’

‘As if I’d ever…’

‘You spend every spare minute you’re not kissing Maggie trying to embarrass me and El and Luke.’

‘Fair play. We’re nearby. I can see the tree’

You locked your phone and swallowed thickly, feeling a bit more able to talk. “Friend’s coming…” you faltered. Wow. Nice and articulate, you sneered at yourself with your usual sarcasm.

“That’s good,” Rhokann smiled back. He made no move to push himself back upright from the railings though, and shifted his gaze back out to the city that sprawled over the other side of the river. He gave another sigh.

You stepped a little closer and looked up at him. “You… ok?” you asked.

“Mm,” he hummed. When he looked back down at you, his dark eyes were strangely sad. “Just… thinking,” he said with a gesture of his hand near his temple. “I’ve been working here all summer, and it’s been amazing, but I’m starting a full time job in a week. I’m just thinking about what’s coming next.”

“Doing what?” Words were starting to come back a little quicker now, but it wasn’t great.

He turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, but before he could answer your question, you heard Lily’s voice coming from behind you.

“Hey Titch!” she called, and then she eyed the other orc ostentatiously up and down.

She raised an eyebrow when she saw the beads in his braid and the cuffs around his thick tusks, and you watched Rhokann deflate a little. Lily was not a traditional orc. For one, she was dating a human, which wasn’t exactly frowned upon but humans weren’t normally seen as suitable partners for her kind, and for another, she had cut her black hair short in a style shaved close to her skull above her pointed ears and left a little longer on top. She wore no cuffs on her tusks, and she’d filed them to softly-rounded points. “As much for Maggie’s pleasure as my own damned convenience,” she’d once told you.

Lily disdained orcs who stuck to the old ways, thinking them brutish thugs stuck in the past, and she folded her arms as she stared Rhokann down. “You wanna head home?” she asked in a low growl.

You turned your attention to Rhokann and he offered you a tiny, sad smile and a shrug of his shoulder. You wanted to stay and get to know him, but you also desperately wanted to be away from the fairground now. Your body felt drained of life, like you were running on fumes, and all you wanted was the quiet of your apartment, a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, and a good book.

In the end, Rhokann decided for you. He offered you a broader smile, and said, “It was nice meeting you. Take care.”

You’d never regretted your tendency to go non-verbal more than watching him walk away and not being able to say thank you.

With Lily on one side, you were joined by Luke a few minutes later, still hauling around the giant fluffy bunny he’d won, its ears flopping comically with each of his bounding steps, but you kept scanning every face for Rhokann. You saw an ogre with green skin that was a similar shade to Rhokann’s, but disappointment bit deep when you realised it wasn’t him, and when a flash of red hair up ahead drew your attention, you barely contained a sob when you saw it was a troll with multiple streaks of red in their black hair.

The walk back home passed in a daze, and you spent the rest of the day buzzing in the worst way possible.

A week later, Luke texted and asked if you wanted to grab breakfast on your way to work, and since you only had stale cereal in your cupboard, you practically leapt at the chance. ‘You mind if we drop my car off at the garage on the way?’ he asked with a subsequent text. ‘There’s an amazing little cafe just around the corner and we can get the metro from there afterwards.’

When his sputtering old deathtrap wheezed onto the garage forecourt though, your heart practically sputtered out as well. There, in oil-stained overalls, was Rhokann.

He didn’t spot you to start with, but when you climbed out of the passenger side and closed the door, his eyes flickered to you and then away again. Then back in a huge, obvious double-take, and his face split into a hearty grin. “Hey,” he chuckled once he’d taken the keys from Luke. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to see you again.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, and Luke shot you a look. He was in his human form this time, but he was no less intimidating than he looked as a shifted werewolf. For all that he was happy to haul a fluffy, cartoon rabbit around a funfair all day without a lick of self-consciousness, he was a dedicated gym-rat and had the body to match, but while his commitment was certainly admirable, he wasn’t your type. Rhokann, on the other hand, with his strongman physique and solid layer of fat to soften the strength that lay beneath… unfff… It was hard to look at him for long without feeling your skin start to prickle with heat.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Luke asked you and you nodded.

“He came to my rescue at the fairground last weekend while you were showing that white rabbit the time of its life,” you grinned.

At that, Luke flushed. You weren’t the only one who liked Rhokann’s build, but the orc wasn’t looking at Luke’s incredibly toned arms, which were currently being deliberately shown off to amazing advantage by his tight, black t-shirt. No, Rhokann was looking at you like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen in a year, and it was enough to make a cloud of butterflies erupt in your chest.

“Damn,” Luke hissed down at you, smirking. “You weren’t kidding about the ‘super hot orc guy’ thing.”

At that, your eyes went wide with horror and you smacked him in the chest with a wild flail of your hand. “I can’t believe Lily told you I said that, but you didn’t have to fucking repeat it!” you hissed around a strangled yelp. “In front of him,” you added through gritted teeth.

Rhokann chuckled quietly from a few feet away, and you turned quickly back to look at him. He raised one thick, black eyebrow and you rolled your eyes.

Turning to Luke in desperation as a mild panic seeped across your brain, you blurted, “Didn’t you say they were super busy at breakfast? Come on, we’d better go…”

And with that, you bolted from the garage without waiting for Luke to follow.

You weren’t proud, and you were sorely disappointed in yourself for chickening out, but in your defence, your friend had just embarrassed the hell out of you in front of your hero of the day. What if Rhokann just thought you were some human with a crush now?

Luke caught up with you, looking back over his shoulder at Rhokann for a second, and then trotted down the road at your side. “Hey, wait, I’m… I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“It’s ok,” you groaned. “I know how it feels when there’s a gorgeous guy standing there looking like… that… In your case, stupid stuff falls out of your mouth. In my case, I clam up.”

“Fair, but still,” Luke groused, holding the door of the cafe open for you and letting you step in ahead of him. “I’m sorry.”

The scent of coffee and sweet icing sugar wafted around you and you forgot your embarrassment for a bit, but the way you’d scuppered your chances haunted you for the rest of the morning at work.

By the time you got home, you were fractious and stimming and in need of some space to slough off the day on your own terms. When your phone chimed a little while later, you assumed it would be one of your friends, but it was an unknown number, and your heart skipped a beat.

‘Hey, it’s Rhokann. I hope this isn’t presumptuous of me. Your friend Luke gave me your number and said it was an apology, but he didn’t say what for. Anyway, if you’re not interested, just ignore this and block my number, but I’d love to see you again. Let me know if you’re up for that, and maybe we can figure something out soon. If not, I’m glad I met you all the same and I won’t contact you again.’

No one had ever said anything like that to you, and you stared at the text for a full five minutes.

The first person you texted though was Luke to yell at him affectionately in all caps. He called you back, and you accepted the call with a little huff that made him laugh with quiet fondness. “I’m sorry, Titch,” he said. “But I fucked up, and I figured he’d been about to ask for your number before you bolted…”

“Yeah, but I would have had the chance to say no…” you said.

“True, and I’m sorry I interfered again,” he sighed, and then after barely a beat had passed, “So are you gonna meet up?”

You rolled your eyes and flopped down onto the sofa. “I haven’t texted back. But probably.”

“Yes! He’s stunning. You saw those caps on his tusks though, right? He’s old school… He’s probably gonna go all-out to impress you…”

“So long as he doesn’t literally hunt and catch dinner for me, I don’t mind. Lily told me about orc courtship, and I am not interested in a whole fucking elk on my doorstep or something…”

“Nah, but he might challenge the chef to a death match for the honour of feeding you…”

“Oh please don’t even joke about it,” you groaned, and Luke did laugh, long and loud. “I’m hanging up now, you bastard.”

“Love you too, Titch,” he said, and hung up for you.

It took a while to figure out how to reply to Rhokann, but eventually you came up with something that you hoped didn’t sound super desperate and strange. ‘Sorry I bailed earlier like that. Luke has no shame, I swear, but I’ve told him off for going behind my back and we’re friends again now. You free this Friday evening?’

Before you could chicken out, you sent the message and sat back on the sofa, wringing your hands quietly in your lap and breathing steadily.

His reply came five minutes later. ‘If it helps, he was really awkward about broaching the topic with me when he came to collect his car. And yes I am free this Friday. What were you thinking?’

‘All on me then?’

‘I have suggestions but I wondered what you wanted. Cocktails at ‘IceCube and Henbane’? Catching that new movie they’re advertising all over town? Dinner somewhere? A walk along the river and takeaway from one of the food trucks? Any combination of those?’

Realising he was probably letting you decide on something that wouldn’t be as overstimulating as the funfair had been, you decided to keep being playful first. ‘You know henbane is poisonous to humans?’

‘They serve human-safe cocktails too, and non-alcoholic ones too that are just as good. Steer well clear of the naga-specific menu though because that shit could clean out a drain. Or strip the rust off your buddy’s car.’

You barked a laugh that echoed off the walls of your apartment. ‘I’ll tell him you said that.’

‘Go ahead, I said as much to him already.’

His texts had a cocky kind of confidence that he’d not really exuded on the day you’d met him at the fair, but then you remembered how he’d drawn himself up to his full height to shield you from those artless onlookers and flexed his shoulders just a fraction to make them back off, and you figured the two sides of him could probably sit well on his bulky frame after all.

‘Oof, I bet his ego took a hit with that. Let’s do cocktails and then maybe walk them off along the river afterwards?’

‘Sounds perfect. Shall I meet you somewhere first or meet there?’

You looked the place up online, which you probably should have done first in case it was out of your price range, and hit the map on the website to see where it was. Having arranged to meet him there, you signed off for the night and tried to get your mind to stop spinning. Somehow, despite two missed chances, the universe had thrown you a gift and a third chance in the form of Luke’s meddling.

That Friday, dressed in what you hoped would be an appropriate outfit for a cocktail bar in a swankier part of the city, you headed out with your heart in your throat.

Rhokann was impossible to miss, standing under the soft, orange light of the lamp outside the cocktail bar, and wow did he look good in black dress pants and a white shirt. His twin silver tusk-caps caught the light, and you noted that this time he had his hair tied back off his face in twin braids that melted into a single rope that hung down his spine.

He spotted you and turned to watch you walk towards him, but he didn’t make any kind of move towards you until you came to a stop in front of him and looked up into his softly smiling face.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly.

“Hi. You look gorgeous,” he added, eyeing you up and down in a way that made his gaze feel like a physical presence against your skin, and it was all you could do to repress a shiver.

You swallowed thickly. “Likewise.”

“Shall we head in?”

“Lead the way,” you said, not really wanting to walk into the unfamiliar space first. Rhokann just nodded and pushed the door open, holding it for you to enter behind him before heading into the softly-lit, wood-panelled bar.

It had the cosy, secretive air of a speakeasy, and as you wove through the tables behind the server who had looked Rhokann up and down and licked her lips in a very unsubtle display of interest, you spotted someone playing an upright piano in a far corner. Rhokann thanked the server politely and let his eyes drift back to you a moment later, the woman apparently forgotten. Something warmed in your chest and you took your seat opposite him.

He was one of those people that had real presence, and it wasn’t just his size that conjured it around him like a tangible aura. There was something about him that made people look at him, but his eyes never left you. After two menus had been set down before you, he said, “Tonight’s on me, if that’s alright?”

“You’re sure?”

Rhokann inclined his head and you caught sight of an earring dangling from his right ear. It looked like a piece of jet shaped like a small fang, polished and set in silver and dangling by a single link to a ball stud in his earlobe. He had silver rings up the line of cartilage to the pointed tips of his ears, and in the lobe of his left he had a simple silver stud. At the artfully-open neck of his white shirt, you could see the hint of an orcish tattoo and a whisper of dark hair that made something thrum through you again.

In contrast to your habit of moving around, he seemed still and calm as a monolith, and you found yourself drawn to that; drawn to his steadiness in a way you’d never experienced with anyone. Over the course of the next two hours, the two of you also talked in a way you’d never found easy with anyone. He listened, and in a measured, easy, back and forth of conversational give and take, you got to know each other.

His family was wealthy and lived in the country for the most part, and yes, they were very traditional by modern orcish standards. “You might think I’m pretty formal when it comes to orcish ways,” he said, looking self-conscious for the first time all evening, “But you should see my parents and my two older brothers…” He took a deep draw of his smoky, whisky cocktail and blew out a breath. The tip of his tongue caressed his lower lip just a little as he savoured the lingering taste, and your eyes tracked the movement hungrily.

To distract yourself, you eyed his silver tusk-caps and said, “I was going to ask about…” and tapped the side of your mouth awkwardly, not sure if you should really be asking about his orcish jewellery and personal tastes so soon.

To your relief, Rhokann smiled and brought his finger and thumb up to the right hand tusk. He lifted the cap off and turned it over in his hand for a second before handing it to you to look at. The tusk beneath gleamed beautifully in the low light, and you had been correct in guessing that his tusks were tipped with wickedly sharp points beneath them.

In your fingers, the cap was practically the size of a tiny shot glass, and you could see the orcish patterns engraved into its surface all the way around. “It’s beautiful,” you said. “My friend Lily told me a bit about orcish culture, but she doesn’t really keep to traditions, so I don’t know all that much. Just the things she personally doesn’t like. Which, to be fair, seems like a lot when you get her started on a rant.”

He laughed and delicately took the silver cap back from you when you held it out to him. He slid it easily back into place and said, “You can ask me anything you like. I figured your friend didn’t like me much when she gave me the once-over at the fairground.”

“She’s protective of the people she cares for,” you said. “It’s the one orcish trait she hasn’t abandoned. That, and showing off her muscles for her girlfriend.” The heady atmosphere and the slight rush of adrenaline that was coursing through you from being so close to him at last was making you bold, and you spoke before you’d realised you might actually be insulting him, but Rhokann only laughed.

“Ahh, those traits are etched into our DNA,” he said. “You’re gonna have to go a long way to find an orc who isn’t protective, and who doesn’t like to show off just a little bit.”

You stared pointedly at his muscles beneath the white shirt and then looked him in the eye. “If you’ve got it, why not show it off a bit.”

“Only if it works…”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Can’t you tell?”

He leaned just a fraction closer and your heart skipped a beat or two as his big, brown eyes seemed to glow softly. “I’m getting some hints,” he purred. “You slipped through my fingers twice now,” he went on, bringing his hand up onto the table and laying it knuckle-down on the wooden surface between your empty glasses. “I’m not going to let a third time pass me by without a proper answer from you.”

“What’s the question?” you asked faintly.

He smiled. “Can I see you again after tonight?”

You nodded.

“You want to get out of here yet?”

Again, you nodded.

His smile returned, and you sat back in your seat while he hailed the server and paid for your drinks. He gave her a tip generous enough to make her blush, and then stood and looked down at you. “Ready?”

A third nod was all the answer you could muster, but he didn’t seem to think you rude.

He walked behind you this time as you led the way out, and when you stepped out into the balmy, end-of-summer evening, you heard him heave a huge sigh. Glancing back over your shoulder, you found him looking at you, and you flushed. “What?”

“I’m just glad I got the chance to see you again. I thought… I thought that was it when your friend bustled you away from me.”

“Why were you working there?” you asked bluntly. You wanted to know why he was working as a mechanic at a tiny garage on the edge of town too, if his family was so well-off, but you didn’t know him well enough to ask something so direct. “At the fair, I mean.”

He smiled. “I wanted to?” he shrugged. “I’ve always been the dutiful son — I went to a good university and got a respectable degree and got a sensible job, but I felt… choked.”

Rhokann sighed again and checked the street for traffic before gesturing with his hand for you to start crossing. You walked by his side as the pair of you headed towards the river, where a long, flat promenade stretched, and you listened to him talk. His beautiful, rumbling bass carried easily on the still evening, and it made you feel steady again amid the noise of the city behind you.

“I’m not on bad terms with my family or anything, but… after a close friend of mine passed last year, I decided that I was going to live my life on my terms, and not anyone else’s. My heritage is very important to me, but it’s not everything I am. My family doesn’t understand why I quit my career and got a summer job working at the fair of all places, or why I turned my love of cars and fixing things into a job as a mechanic.”

“If you’re happier now, that’s all that matters, right?” you said.

He grinned. “I’m happy tonight, that’s for sure.”

“You’re such a charmer.”

“If it works, right?” he chuckled. You got the impression there were depths to him that would slowly unravel to you over time, and you found yourself looking forward to it already.

“Yeah, it works,” you mumbled.

You walked along the embankment together for a while until his footsteps faltered and he asked, “Would you let me hold your hand?”

“Sure,” you smiled, hoping you didn't have sweaty palms.

His hands were rough and huge, but you made it work, and it was wonderful to have a physical connection with him after clicking over chat and drinks already.

In the lea of the oldest bridge that spanned the wide river, the two of you slowed and came to a natural halt to lean against the wall in easy silence, staring out at the water as it slid past in an inky, glittering ribbon.

Rhokann turned away from the view and the movement caught your attention, drawing your gaze up to his handsome face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a hoarse murmur.

“Yes.”

Leaning down, Rhokann placed his palms on your jaw and angled your head gently upwards, but he didn’t kiss you right away. He bit his lower lip and although his eyes narrowed, you saw the way his pupils widened hungrily. “You’re stunning,” he exhaled. “I… I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

“Stop talking about it then, and do it,” you teased.

His eyes flashed and he closed the distance between you, hunching over and pressing his mouth against yours. His tusks framed your mouth beautifully, the silver caps nudging into your cheeks a little as he kissed you senseless. You’d never been kissed like that. His hands left your face and wandered down to your waist, where he tightened his grip and picked you up, setting you down on the wide, stone wall that bordered the river. At that height, it was much easier for him to reach you, and he stepped closer, parting your knees to stand even nearer to you. You hooked your lower legs around his hips and let him kiss you over and over until your body felt like it was on fire.

Your fingers found the intricate plait of the braids on the side of his head and he moaned when you ran your fingertips over the pattern. “I want you,” he said. “Not tonight if you don’t want it, but I need you to know I want you. However you’d like…”

“I want you too,” you breathed back in the scant space between you, foreheads touching. It felt more intimate than any words you’d ever spoken, but it also felt true.

Your hands moved to grip his huge, rounded shoulders and you squeezed before running your palms across his pecs. His chest heaved and he sounded out of breath when he said, “My place isn’t far from here. You want to come back to mine?”

You nodded.

He lifted you down and took a moment with his eyes closed to breathe carefully. In the light of a nearby street lamp, you could see the impressive tent in his trousers, and you bit back a smile.

“Told you I want you,” he said when he caught you looking. “Come on.”

Flattered and a little intimidated, you walked with him back to his apartment. It wasn’t anything showy like a penthouse overlooking the city, but it was in a nice part of town, and it felt secure and homely as you followed him into the lift. In a small rush of bravery, you placed your hand at the small of his back and you felt as much as heard the groan of pleasure he let out in the small confines of the elevator. His skin radiated heat through the fabric, and you splayed your fingers, feeling the solid muscle and the slight softness there too that made you ache inside and out for him.

By the time you got to his front door, he was taking deliberately steady breaths, but the moment you were inside, he lost a little of that composure. “I’d offer you a drink, or —” You silenced him by reaching up and pressing your thumb along his lip before drawing him down to kiss you again. Part of you wanted him to take you right there in the hallway, but you had hoped for something a little more comfortable.

Rhokann undressed you carefully but insistently, and between the front door and his stylish, modern bedroom you left a trail of your clothes and his, until you were both in only your underwear by the time you were standing beside his massive bed.

Dark sheets stretched neatly across its huge expanse, and he let you push him down to sit on the edge of the mattress, gazing up at you with his hands resting at your hips, thumbs drawing idle lines across the fabric of your underwear. The evidence of his arousal was obvious, and a darker wet patch had started to seep into the material at the tip of his cock.

His body was soft but strong in the kind of way that you’d always adored. His paunch was evident, but his arms were like anchor cables, and while he might not have had the lean look of a social media gym-junkie, he could outlast any of them in a show of strength.

“I never thanked you,” you said, reaching around to the back of his head for the plait that you’d wanted to feel in your hands since the first time you’d seen him.

“For what?” he asked breathlessly. His pupils were huge and the light reflected in his warm eyes like a cat’s in the dark. Desire swept through you in a heady rush.

Slowly, taking your time about it, you straddled his lap and sank yourself down to grind your hips decadently against his, and when his hard cock moved against your body, he let out a long, broken moan.

You tightened your hold on his braid and the sound he made would stay with you forever. The deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest and his eyes rolled back behind fluttering eyelids. Beneath you, you felt his cock twitch.

“Please,” he gasped. His grip tightened on your hips and he shuddered like he was losing control of all his strength, fighting to keep from having his way with you. The jet earring dangling from his right ear glinted softly as it swayed like a tiny pendulum in the void between his earlobe and his shoulder.

“I never thanked you for taking such good care of me,” you said.

The orc responded exactly as you’d expected he would, and gave a throaty hum of pleasure.

“When I needed you, you protected me… got me out of there…”

You’d chosen your words very carefully, and Rhokann arched his spine, jutting his hips up and practically begging to fuck you without uttering a word.

You twisted his braid around your hand one more time and he tipped his head back, following the direction of the force you put on his head. The lick of red in his forelock looked perfect in the warm light of his bedroom, and you had been right about the orcish tattoos that covered his chest, right down to his hips. He also had the most delicious chest hair and the dark trail that ran down from his navel to the waistband of his tight boxer-briefs was gradually making you lose your mind.

“You were patient and understanding, and you didn’t mind that I didn’t have my words then,” you went on. “But I have them now, don’t I?”

“You do,” he choked. “You do. Please… Please…”

“Let me thank you properly then,” you said, and climbed carefully off his lap. You looked pointedly at his underwear and said, “Off.”

“Only if you do to,” he said, and you knew you’d met your counterpart in him.

He gave and took in equal measure, and as the two of you lost yourselves tangled in his sheets that night, you knew he was going to be the best thing that could have happened to you. The two of you moved in perfect synchrony, and you came apart within a heartbeat of each other. Rhokann made a mess of the sheets and you made more noise than you’d ever made coming in your life, and when the two of you lay back, sweaty and satiated at last, he wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“Thank the gods for third chances,” you smiled and he laughed quietly. “And meddling werewolves.”

“Indeed. Come here.” He tugged you against his body so that you were lying half-propped against him, with one arm draped over his soft middle, and you trailed your fingers up the centre of his chest. “You staying the night?”

You nodded, and hoped it would be the first of many.

I really hope you enjoyed this. If you did, and you made it all the way to the end, please consider showing your support by reblogging. It really is the best (and totally free!) way to help the artists and writers whose work you enjoy.

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

Text

don't hold hands, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You're fucking your ex-boyfriend's ex-best friend. You also now own a condo with him and owning this condo has made you house-poor. Yeah, it's not the usual love story and it's not going to be one. Not until you paint the walls black, that is.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mostly conversations and feels tbh; minor smut (fem reader, marking / scratching, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU; guitarist!music producer!Yoongi x novelist!reader - fwb / roommates-to-lovers

just a story about two people who shouldn't fall in love falling in love, I have plenty of nasty smut so this is a different beat for ya lmao

“Is it fun being tortured?”

“Not really, no.”

It wasn’t fair to be this critical but, as long as you didn’t let these words travel outside this room, it was fine, right? At least, you kept telling yourself that. Delusion at its finest.

“It’s so stupid that people enjoy sticking their nose in drama that doesn’t involve them only because their lives are too boring to have any,” you sighed, tossing your phone across your desk, letting it skid into a pile of post-its covered in scrawled notes. “All because I deleted some photos.”

Notifications were now blocked.

“Some people mistake privilege with right.”

You glared at your phone even though the contents were the offender and not the device. Rolled your eyes, knowing you would be coming back to a shitstorm, but you couldn’t take it anymore. There had to be a limit. And the voice beside you had been telling you to put the damn thing down and stop deleting comments one by one, but the stubborn ram in you thought you could just headbutt through the bullshit.

And that imagery was gonna end there, thank you very much.

Your forehead found the palm of your hand and you sighed again, suddenly feeling the weight.

“I’m never doing that again.”

“You don’t have to.”

Minutes passed.

Silence never felt so serene.

Then it was cut through by steady, slow acoustic guitar, the notes drifting out from behind you. It almost made you feel more guilty. Almost. How fucked was that? You, sitting here right now, staring at nearly bare walls and a table covered in notes and your trusty laptop, almost feeling guilty for the guy that had backed out of the joint loan for this condo in the city that you didn’t even fuckin’ want, but you had been too far into the process to not lose a whole lotta money and too angry to let yourself lose.

How ironic, feeling guilty for the guy who cheated on you.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” was the guitar player’s response. “And you shouldn’t be either. For anything.”

You knew you shouldn’t apologize. It just felt like the thing to do, because you hadn’t been wholly right either and, even if you weren’t more in the wrong, you were still wrong, and wasn’t that fucked, putting levels of blame on a situation that, at the end of the day, was all said and done and left everybody bitter and full of scars.

The shitty part was everyone was on your case now and blaming you.

This was what you got for dating the lead singer of a punk band that skyrocketed to popularity on social media. Looked all elegant dark romance on TikTok and Instagram, just screaming and hate-fucking behind closed doors. Constant content to cover up the toxicity. And maybe it was your fault too, letting it get to your head that maybe you really were the beautiful, mysterious muse that the followers painted you out to be. You glossed over red flags – late nights, drugs and drinking, sleeping in rooms of girls that called themselves fans – all part of the industry. Nothing happened. Honest. But the greatest mistake was letting him tag you on Instagram. How cool was it that you were an author?

This bastard.

Not only had you given him some of your best quotes for his lyrics, but now you couldn’t publish those words as your own because this bastard would fuckin’ sue you for plagiarizing.

The guitar continued behind you, on the mattress on the floor.

So, not only were you getting crucified on social media at the moment because he had called you a backhanded bitch in his Instagram stories but also because you had deleted all photos of him on your profile and said fucking nothing. Silence to be polite and all that. He cheated on you, he was leaving you for some whore you had plenty of suspicions about, and, worst of all, he waited until you and him were finalizing the down payment for this expensive-ass-fuck high-rise condo – that money was out of your own pocket, not his, how convenient – and backed out of the loan for the mortgage. His reasoning?

You cheated on him first.

Hello?

With his former guitarist.

Hello?

Your ex-boyfriend had fired his former guitarist ages ago because you and him had gotten too friendly.

Alright, man.

You liked the guy, sure. Talked to him when he was in the studio and found you had a lot in common. Plus, he was crazy talented. Made most of the melodies, self-produced a lot of the songs for the band so they could save money, even contributed to lyric writing so they didn’t have to spend on that either. He even had a good voice, although sadly the band rarely used it. Your art of words paired with his knowledge of music made some viral hits. But then tensions rose between him and your ex when they started butting heads for no reason (there was a reason and it was ugly jealousy). Then arguments rose between you and your ex, but instead of breaking up, you buried yourself into writing your next novel to let the situation cool off.

Sigh, okay, call a spade a spade.

You were avoiding the confrontation.

He fired his guitarist and got a new one.

Then things were good.

Until they weren’t.

Of course, they weren’t. You didn’t solve shit, and he was fucking every girl that threw themselves at him behind your back. Good thing you had strict rules about condoms, otherwise you would probably have some lasting consequences right now. So, when the ground cracked and split apart from under you, what did you do?

Yup, this was the part that made you no better.

You found that former guitarist and fucked him.

Word travelled around. Word also travelled around that somehow you got someone to be part of that insane loan you got talked into. And, oh, shit, did things get messy once a certain someone knew who it was.

But here you were.

Feeling guilty.

You probably couldn’t publish for at least six months to a year because, harrowingly, your demographic was young adult – you had even relied on social media for self-marketing, fuck – and the half of a novel you had now had to be scrapped considering that so many of the quotes were now distressed in dark venues by the lips of an egomaniacal dick that you allowed into your pussy far too many times. Once was already too many.

Fuck.

You didn’t even want to live in the city.

It’ll be so much easier for me to get bigger opportunities. Don’t be a selfish bitch and only think about yourself.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to throw your laptop into the wall and break it into smithereens, but you didn’t because this piece of technology was currently your only chance of making money. Fuck. Me. Always talking about himself like he was only important member of the band, even though it was the other guys who wrote most of the music and lyrics. No one sided with you, obviously. This was their job and technically not their romance. They were sympathetic but not empathetic to the point of jeopardizing their jobs. Obviously, you hadn’t signed any contracts for royalties or credit. This was supposed to be your soulmate.

Soulmates weren’t so generous to give you pennies.

You’re being greedy and self-important. Oh, so you’re only in the relationship for the money? I’ll give you money once we make it big. Once we get it all, I’ll buy you everything you want. But you gotta help me out now. We’re starving artists, ya know?

You should have asked your parents for monetary help, but you didn’t. Your pride didn’t want to hear the told-you-so speeches for dating a guy they didn’t choose for you. You also didn’t want the arranged marriage appointments back in your life either.

So.

Trapped in white walls, post-its of false starts, and impending doom.

Dramatic, but you were a writer.

“Come here and sit down with me.”

Some part of you didn’t want to face him. It was really dumb. He was your new roommate now. You were fucking him when you were too sad to avoid it, and it was pretty obvious he knew. You were living off his money. Sure, he only paid for half the rent but then food mysteriously appeared in the fridge, bathroom necessities were stocked when they were running low, cleaning supplies neatly sorted into the closet, and all that other shit. None of that wholesale stuff either, but the nicer things normal households could afford.

It wasn’t an exaggeration that you cried into the soap during your shower last night.

All because you finally acknowledged it wasn’t one of those shitty bars that made skin feel like plastic but actually fragrant lathering liquid that you could put on the dense, not-falling-apart-in-one-use loofah that you hadn’t bought. You would have been satisfied with cutting coupons and living on the dregs of the bare minimum, but someone cared enough to not let you do that, and you currently couldn’t do anything to contribute and probably couldn’t for a while.

And that made you feel undeserving.

Maybe you were only fucking him because that was all you could offer.

Pathetic.

The guitarist called your name softly.

Like a beaten dog, you got up and sat down beside Min Yoongi.

He continued to play a melody you didn’t know on his black acoustic guitar. He hadn’t moved in all his instruments and equipment yet. You had told him he could have the whole living room for his studio. He had asked if you were sure and you responded that you were sure that you weren’t going to have anybody over ever so, unless he wanted a living room space, you didn’t want one.

“Shit always happens, you know,” the deep voice reminded you.

“This happening was of my own doing and now I’ve ruined my own life,” you muttered, bitter over a boy and hating that you were bitter over a boy.

A small chuckle. “You have to admit you had help.”

Stupid boy.

“Can’t be helped. Humans are animals of regret.”

It stung to regret.

The guitar playing stopped and now you were met with silence.

Don’t cry.

But it was so tiring to be angry. So easy to be sad. So easy to think, my fault, for being swept up in what he was but not who he was, for believing that you knew what was best when clearly it wasn’t, for being spiteful on purpose. For avoiding looking at Yoongi in the face because you were too ashamed to acknowledge what was going on here.

For being too afraid to ask what he thought of it.

“I regretted not stealing you from him sooner. Thought you were too fuckable for that loser from the first day we met.”

A strange feeling.

Skin prickling, glancing the that pale hand of graceful, callused fingers simply resting on the neck of that guitar, not looking at Yoongi’s face even though you knew it quite well in profile.

“That’s one way to make me feel better,” you replied.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better. Just being honest,” he replied, tapping his fingertips on the wood. “You are ten times too talented and a hundred times too pretty for a guy like that.”

You twitched. “Are you shitting on my standards?”

“Back then? Yeah, I am.” A calm hum, setting aside his guitar and placing his elbows on his sweatpants-covered knees, charcoal gray and worn. “Pretty clear you went full desperado for a guy that didn’t deserve it. Also, he ain’t hot shit like he thinks he is.”

Ow and what the fuck. “Fuck off.”

You felt movement and tracked his hand raising, spinning a finger around his temple. A brief glance and the details sank in. Long, windswept black waves, light cream skin, pointed gaze directed forward and not at you, pensive slight frown of pink lips. You looked away again, past his loose white t-shirt and to your hands.

You used to be proud of them.

They used to be able to type prose like no other.

Now they were twisted in an oversized, olive-green sweatshirt that you picked up from the sale bin of the convenience store for dirt cheap and they didn’t write jack shit.

You also hated olive-green.

Nothing personal. It just wasn’t your color.

“You’re a psycho bitch to put up with him,” Yoongi commented.

He wasn’t wrong. “I’m a psycho bitch all the time.”

“Yeah, and I don’t date crazy.”

You thought you would feel insulted, but you were past the point of caring. Also, there was something about the way his calm voice said it. Like he knew what he was doing. Huh. That was a silly thing to think. Of course, Yoongi knew what he was doing. He did it. He let you in his studio when you tracked it down and camped out until he showed up. He had listened to your psychobabble and didn’t back away when you pinned him to the wall.

This wasn’t dating.

“At least, I thought I didn’t,” Yoongi added, not touching you.

He fucked you too. He wasn’t a starfish in bed, that was for sure.

“I wanted to get back at him too, you know,” that deep, hazy voice murmured beside you. “That bastard turned my friends against me, stole my mixes, and cut out all my connections. Made me start from the ground up, alone.”

Yeah, you did know that. You helped badmouth Yoongi. In the name of love.

Shit.

“Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry.”

Ouch.

“And you shouldn’t be, ‘cause what’s done is done and being sorry isn’t going to change anything.”

You untwisted your hands from each other, realizing your knuckles were white from anxiousness, and relaxed them on your bare knees. Best you could, anyway.

“Yeah,” was the best response you had. This fucking boy ruined your life and stole your eloquence too, apparently. Motherfucker. “You’re right.”

Neither you or Yoongi said anything.

Minutes passed.

Another night in the condo and both of you were sitting on a mattress with a single blanket, deflated pillows, and a box of condoms on the floor.

You touched his forearm the same time his hand moved to grip your thigh.

And then it was the don’t-look-him-in-the-eyes challenge, and he was doing the exact same thing, eyes averted, black hair over them, lips grazing your jaw. Breath against your ear. Hot. His neck under your lips, flexed, fair skin with remnants of bruises, and your teeth sank in, making new ones, listening to his hiss and feeling his hands slide under your sweatshirt. Weighted palms and blunt nails. Digging in.

“Harder.”

He scratched you up as you climbed into his lap, tasting flesh.

Those firm hands gripped your hips and forced them down. Grinding. Softness to growing hardness, unhooking your bra, hands all over like you had lost your mind, your thighs squeezing his sides, yanking his shirt collar down and licking up his collarbone, dripping spit, shivering as you saw it glisten over his marred skin.

Clothes coming off, thrown aside. Guitar sliding to the hardwood floor as bodies tumbled. Your hands on his chest, your hard nipples pressed into the sheets as Yoongi slipped his hand into your hair and shoved your head down. Mouth open, tongue curling around. Moan striking the air, echoing in the nothingness.

Hard, hot, now wet.

Up, down, hitting the back of your throat, unable to choke in the adrenaline of lust, in need, in desire for pain, rubbing your tongue all over as Yoongi face-fucked you hard and fast, thick cock swelling in your mouth, your lips grazing the swollen head and making him shudder, saliva slipping down your chin that was smacking into his balls.

Was it shameful that you were good at it?

Sex solved nothing but you sure had a lot of it as if it did.

A sharp gasp and salty cum filled your throat, drinking, swallowing with effort and the burning sensation of your locked jaw, maintaining the soft tightness. Tongue tracing the contours, keeping him hard, hearing the rip of a foil packet above your head.

You hadn’t even realized that Yoongi had let go of your hair, letting you lick him all over at your own pace.

“What position?” Yoongi panted, husky and breathless in the mostly empty bedroom.

Mattress, chair, desk, laptop. Oh, and guitar.

Bodies on the floor.

You didn’t say anything.

You just turned around and slid down, elbows on the bed, knees spread, ass up.

“Alright then.”

You bit your lower lip.

You almost turned your head, almost looked back, just to check, right, just to check he was okay with it, and then strong hands gripped your hips, lifting them, sliding in, condom on and stretching you out right away, his knees pushing your knees apart and forcing you to arch your back for the angle.

No chance to look back.

You gasped, gripping the sheets, blinded by pleasure and the fading resonance of pain.

Hard.

Deep.

You pushing back, deep not deep enough, hitting your preferred depth and letting your eyelids flutter, veins burning with the repeated ecstasy. One of your hands lifted and reached back, squeezing his hand on your hip, and the grip became tighter, fingertips digging in, smacking his hips into your ass, and your body threatened to throw him back, carnal power meeting his every thrust, clenching around his hard length, and you could hear Yoongi growl your name, low and deep and voracious.

Somehow, his name fell from your lips too.

Rough and sinful, no better than an animal.

His nails dug into your back and dragged down, burning lines into your skin.

Your head tipped back and you moaned, a clear, shameless sound that would become familiar to this ceiling. Pooling wildfire, tightening muscles, wasted nectar sticky between joined thighs, surge after shivering surge of orgasmic apex stinging your veins as you barely registered Yoongi’s shudder and blissful groan, feeling the pulse inside you made than hearing the sound.

The rush of blood roaring in your ears was far too loud for you to hear anything.

Your face felt hot, so hot.

Gripping the sheets, twisting them, pulling them off the edge of the bed.

This moment.

Very few things were as intense and exigent as an orgasm. Fleeting, but a violently memorable. Pure nothingness of soaring high. You chased it. Again. And again. And again, your fingers tangled in Yoongi’s dark hair, pulling it over his face but he didn’t look at you anyway, eyes closed and teeth trapping his lower lip, breath trapped in his chest, driving his hips into yours again and again.

You both kept going until the limits were reached.

The darkness willingly swallowed you up.

Min Yoongi always considered himself a rational person, which was precisely why he found himself entangled in the break-up between his former best friend and the only woman he ever considered committing a felony for.

Yeah.

He also didn’t believe in love at first sight.

She was still way too hot for that idiot though.

His eyes could communicate well enough with his dick. The short skirt and exposed thighs didn’t really help either. Still, Yoongi had let it be. Respect was keeping his distance despite racing heartbeat and keeping calm despite shaking hands. He got used to it once the late-night talks about music and wordplay became a regular thing. Sometimes they talked about general life and were surprised on how well they aligned. Still, she never spoke poorly about her then-boyfriend even though there was plenty to talk about.

Scorched earth was their sacred ground.

It was painful to witness.

Yoongi regretted valuing the friendship, mostly because it didn’t mean jack shit at the end of the day. He regretted believing in the elegant, age-old saying.

Bros before hoes.

Tch.

But mostly, Yoongi regretted pretending like nothing was wrong.

He would see the pain in her expression and not say anything. Watch her pack it all away and greet him with warmth that he didn’t deserve because he had a racing heart and shaking hands every time they met. He would watch his former best friend disappear into hotel rooms without explanation and Yoongi knew damn well it wasn’t right, but he kept his mouth shut because he was a coward, something he figured out later.

He could have washed his hands clean of that shitshow, but instead his hands had held her shaking shoulders and watched her struggle not to cry on that cold night.

Yoongi considered himself a rational person, but never a good one.

Too many ways to judge, and her lips had already connected with his as soon as his shoulder blades hit the wall. He didn’t stop it. Maybe it was bitterness. Vengeance. Hate.

No, it wasn’t any of that, actually.

He didn’t know exactly what but, in that moment, Yoongi knew that he would murder that asshole if he saw his former best friend’s face right then, ready to commit a felony all because those beautiful eyes couldn’t look at him, closing instead to blink back the tears that bastard didn’t deserve.

That meant something, all right.

He knew it could take a long time. He knew it would almost certainly be hopeless. He knew he would probably end up with a broken heart and broke as hell. He knew it was a bad idea and he knew it was going to tear him up, this spiral, but when he found himself looking up to the ceilings of these mostly empty rooms, this condo he now half-owed with the woman that was formerly his best friend’s girlfriend, and Yoongi found he didn’t know and he didn’t care what the future held.

She had trouble sleeping.

Less trouble after exhausting themselves.

He had trouble sleeping too, but that was because he was staring at the ceiling and wondering just how rational he really was. One hand behind his head, under the pillow. The other resting on the blanket, on the curve of her hip, feeling the steady hum of her breathing.

She never cried in front of him.

He knew she did cry, because he heard her in the bathroom sometimes. But never in front of him. Showed anger, yes, but never acted helpless even though it was perfectly reasonable to feel that way after everything that happened. Living on the least for his sake, even to the point of skipping meals and spending all her time trying to write, trying to get back to her livelihood, trying to get past all the false starts. Personally, Yoongi felt that she should give up for now and heal herself, but he also knew how it felt to feel stubborn and useless.

Hah.

It was weird, being so close and yet so far away.

He felt it most in the nighttime, even though that was when he was closest to her.

He was never going to be the same. He knew that. He already wasn’t, surprising himself with his own recklessness, and for what? He didn’t even know what she was capable of reciprocating after receiving all those scars. Didn’t even know if he was the right one, if he was better or worse, if…

If he was believing in something that wasn’t there.

Yoongi closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Livid.

It was weird. Feeling it. In the past, you buried it, numb, and promptly lived in delusion. But now you could feel it. What was more, you let yourself feel it. There wasn’t anything to stop you except for the occasional mental peanut gallery of you’re a bad person if you feel jealousy, but anger could overtake anything if you let it.

You stared at the scene before you, several meters away.

Seething.

It felt good.

Mostly because it was honest.

It surprised you. You hadn’t expected to feel anything. Sad, maybe. You had already been cheated on, so naturally you assumed the cycle would begin anew, just with less promises and in the gray area of uncertainty. But, no, instead of being distraught and delusional, you felt maddeningly, viciously, nearly on-the-edge of making a fist and dislocating Min Yoongi’s jaw from his skull because he was speaking to a female-presenting human at the entrance of the building that housed his and others’ music studios.

Did you lack context? Yes.

Would that get you arrested? Yeah, probably.

Would that probably not get your laid anymore and label you as an unhinged psychopath? Without a doubt.

But would it feel good?

Don’t know.

You had never punched someone before, although maybe you should have practiced on your ex-boyfriend. He was probably a more deserving candidate. In any case, you remained frozen in perplexation at your willingness for violence because you were pretty sure your… relations… with Yoongi were nothing more than a lonely bitch and a spiteful silver tongue executing revenge, so the amount of fucks you should give about Yoongi speaking to any human being – other than the obvious health and safety precautions – should be zero.

None.

Basket of fucks empty.

And yet.

Clearly wasn’t since you were mentally calculating the angle and force for jaw dislocation while having zero experience in doing so. In any sort of non-virtual manner, that is.

Hm.

Your hands were firmly in the pockets of your black cargo pants. The hip ones, although you had plenty of choice. You kept them there for the safety of passerby or, maybe deep down, yourself. This caused your jacket to fall open, the outlines of the sew-on patches and thick, bunched-up black denim crowding the space between your forearm and waist, your black cropped tank exposed to the chill evening air. You used to wear a plethora of band t-shirts, but, well, those were probably in a landfill or rotting in a secondhand shop.

You figured you would be cold. Unsurprisingly, the anger kept you warm.

Huh.

You thought about turning around and just straight up leaving, petty and picturesque of course, and then Yoongi seemed to sense your projected violence, looking up from the conversation. Dark waves over his cheeks, striking body line, backing away, hiding his eyes for a moment, not that you could see them that well from this distance. You twitched.

The girl reached out.

Yoongi simply bowed, out of reach, and pushed the glass door open.

Honestly, her role in this moment was so miniscule that you completely ignored whatever she did or possibly could have said to Yoongi’s retreating back. Sharpened gaze, and then he crossed the street with the crowd, walking past oblivious bystanders who may or may not become the harrowed audience of the next thirty seconds.

He stopped before you. Bomber jacket, white shirt, black track pants. Monochrome elegance.

You looked up at him, saying nothing.

Over one shoulder was his usual guitar bag that held said instrument and his yellow notepad sticking out of the pocket. He used it to jot down whatever came to him. You almost said something. Almost. Then you remembered that if this, this between you and Min Yoongi, if this was supposed to be nothing, then weren’t you supposed to do nothing but voice your casual annoyance for making you wait rather than, well.

Admit insecurity?

You looked away quickly.

No, it did not matter how reasonable it was, you didn’t like knowing that somehow you had been weakened by an ex-boyfriend, barely a man, no, a mere locust at best, so it was better to not say anything and accept that this was–

“Sorry, I got caught up with the staff about ending my lease.”

Compromised.

You didn’t look at him. “What?”

“Gonna end my lease this month and move my studio stuff to the condo. I can’t afford both.”

He had told you this already. It had been your idea. You already knew you were overreacting to a situation that you created in your head rather than reality. And, yet, the best your mind would allow was uh huh, a plausible explanation, sarcasm included.

“Ah. Right,” was your sharp, mildly frigid reply.

“I can’t read your mind.”

Do you intend to be exhausting?

Your mental peanut gallery was super annoying.

You breathed in. Cool, crisp air. The sound of cars and people bustling in and out of stores. You breathed in again. Did you really intend to be exhausting, irrational, and, worst of all, dishonest? Really, after all that had happened? After getting here, standing here, arriving to pick up Yoongi at his request to do the grocery shopping together?

You turned back to look right into black-brown, piercing orbs.

“I just realized that I have the ability to be jealous,” you exhaled, draining your lungs. “It’s unpleasant and not nearly as delightfully pivotal as the media makes it out to be.”

Something fluttered in those orbs.

Or maybe it was the wind catching his bangs, drifting black strands over his eyes shadowed by dark circles.

Yoongi half-smiled.

“Makes for good songwriting material though.”

There was an air of helplessness to his words. A tone you couldn’t define, except for the understanding, which left you both baffled and with a sense of guilt. There were emotions in that barely-there smirk on those familiar lips. Relief. Maybe a slight bit of shame. A shadow of guilt too. You realized people were glancing at you and him as they walked past, wondering why you both were at a standstill on the sidewalk. Yoongi seemed to not notice them or care.

You pulled your hands out of your pockets.

“Come on. We should go before it gets dark.”

Before you noticed it, your hand was rising.

You pulled it back, but not fast enough.

Yoongi’s free hand reached out and grasped around yours, strong fingers enclosing. Sliding up, calluses on your palm. Your hand lowered, slowly, your eyes moving in the opposite direction. Lips parting. His hand was colder than yours.

You stared at Yoongi.

He looked back, expression unreadable.

“I don’t hold hands,” you said, suddenly breathless.

You tightened your grip.

“Neither do I,” Yoongi replied, taking a step, on the cusp of walking past you, his hand around yours. “I simply just don’t like the idea of yours getting cold when I can do something about it.”

Previously, when you held hands, it was always with a purpose of showing public affection. The look-how-real-this-is-because-there-are-clear-witnesses show. Front row tickets nobody asked for. But this.

This.

You blinked hard and the sting was inside.

The sting of wasted time.

Your name in that raspy, soft voice. Familiar. You looked up, not saying anything and hoping the eye contact was enough. All Yoongi did was smile lightly and tug your hand.

“Let’s get take-out and shop tomorrow. We have plenty of time to eat healthier.”

“You can cry in front of me.”

Min Yoongi heard her breath hitch and still.

Seconds that felt like hours ticked by. It was the dead of night. Or maybe one could call it the time when honesty came to life, if the conditions were right. He knew this time well usually with a drink in his hand, but this time he was laying on his side with bruises of bites and carnal memories lingering on his fingertips.

“I wasn’t crying.”

Her voice was thick and strained from trying to keep it even. Her moment of jealousy had happened days ago. He had recognized it right away. Call it personal experience. He also recognized that she didn’t like to feel that way. It was obvious from her torn yet furious expression. It confirmed a lot of things for him. Still, she seemed pleased to help him move and set up his things in the bedroom. They found the living room to be a bit too echoey due to the large space so they switched the two, pulling the mattress to the living room and setting up his equipment in the center of what was formerly the bedroom.

He told her to paint the condo.

She had mentioned in passing that someday she would like to paint her entire living space black. Not this place, because he owned it too, and you probably think I’m crazy for wanting a dark space, huh, Yoongi? He asked her, why wait? No one lives forever. We’re just passing through.

She had given him a weird look.

We own this condo. Paint it.

There were cans of black paint waiting.

Yoongi had intended to go visit his family over the weekend. His parents and his brother who had recently been promoted to head chef at the classy restaurant he worked at. Someone in the family needed to have prestige. Well, that was his own personal feeling. Surprisingly at this point his parents had even up on telling him to get a higher-paying job. They told him to simply be happy.

And get married.

Yeah, about that.

He was still trying to get used to the music producer thing, for fuck’s sake.

“Are you afraid I won’t understand?” Yoongi let himself say, not turning around yet.

Sometimes, people didn’t want you to see them weak. He could understand that.

Call it personal experience.

A shuddering sigh. Deep breaths. Words bogged down, drained.

“I can only be so pathetic before I lose my mind recalling the past,” she mumbled. He felt her weight deepen on her side of the bed, as if she was trying to melt into the mattress. “I made things hard for myself. For you. It’s pointless to cry about it anyway. In the end, it only makes me look ungrateful.”

Yoongi thought about it.

“It’s true that you probably shouldn’t have involved me.”

He shifted, laying on his back now.

“But I’m not a good person either. I agreed, after all,” he murmured, his skin tingling with bruises and carnal memories. “Hm, to be honest, he was always a dick though, from high school till now. Always will be, I fear.”

“You’re easygoing enough not to be affected by his asshole behavior.”

“Not my job to change people. I leave that to parents and clueless fools.”

A pensive silence. Surprisingly not an irritated one. She seemed to accept it.

“Why did you become his friend?” she asked, staring at the ceiling with him.

“We just happened to like the same thing. Music.”

“I’m lucky you decided to become his friend.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “I’m lucky that somehow he managed to bamboozle a hot and clever girl, two things he’s obviously not.”

She almost laughed. Almost.

“Who the fuck uses the word bamboozle?”

“You had to admit you were bamboozled, because you sure as hell weren’t dick-drunk.”

“Oh? You think you’re that good, huh?”

“No, I just know he’s that much worse.”

The faintest of chuckles.

“You… You get better every time,” she admitted. “I think I just caught you off guard the first time.”

“Firstly, I don’t like wasting time and, secondly, I had given up for a while before…” I met you. “Romance seemed like an expensive, worthless distraction when I could be using that time and money trying to push the band forward,” he pivoted, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “Then that went to shit.”

“Sorry.”

Automatic.

He chuckled darkly. “I’m confident I got the better deal.”

A trembling pause.

“Why do you think that?”

He reached over and placed his palm on the top of her head, lacing his fingers in her hair. Messing it up.

“Tell me the truth. Was he good at sex?”

A burst of laughter. “Really? Alright. No, he wasn’t. He sucked. Thought he was a piston of a muscle car instead of a human being. Oh, and once he fell asleep on top of me.”

He cocked an eyebrow. Turned his head and forced hers to turn as well.

She was smiling.

Yoongi found his chest tight and breath shallow.

“And you didn’t leave him then… why?” he pressed.

She winced, albeit playfully. “I yelled at him. A lot. I don’t know, maybe he was tired.”

“Not an excuse.”

“I know, I know…” Sigh. “I… I didn’t want to believe I made the wrong choice.” Her eyes shifted, but her body was still turned to face his. “I… It made my entire family angry, dating him. Especially my parents. They would never forgive me and hold it over my head forever. I had to make it work. I thought, if only I worked hard enough…” Another heavy breath, squeezing her eyes tightly. “I know it was pride, but I wanted to prove to them and myself that I could do anything. Bad choices? Maybe. But they were mine. I don’t want my life decided by what is best for me. If I suffer for it, those are my consequences.”

Her eyes opened, but barely.

Yoongi kept his hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair.

“I… I feel like shit because now you’re stuck in my mistakes,” she breathed.

He liked to touch her hair. It felt comforting.

“You know what your problem is?”

She glared under lashes and dared him.

Undeterred, he continued. “You blame yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened.”

A disapproving frown. “Hah?”

He tapped her forehead. “You think it’ll bother me if you cry, but what truly bothers me is that you cry alone.” Pushed back the strands, and now he was closer, sharing breath. “You think I’m stuck in your mistakes. Mistakes don’t inherently have only negative consequences. They almost always exist in a gray area.”

“I... I know that,” she grumbled, face against his chest.

“I did say you were clever.”

A drifting, drowsy silence.

“I’m not clever,” she whispered to his skin, pulling her body closer. “I just like you.”

Yoongi felt himself losing to sleep.

“I’ve always liked you, since the moment I saw you,” he muttered into her hair, breathing in the familiar scent, so quietly that he wasn’t sure if he said it at all.

“Ah? Yes? Sorry about that. Oh, yes, uh, I’m painting. Everything. Yes, I’ll be sure the keep the windows open. Thank you.”

You closed the front door of the condo. Well. You had expected nervousness, but somehow the conversation between you and the downstairs neighbor had been very calm. Apparently, he worked from home and wasn’t expecting the loud crash of the ladder from your unit.

In your defense, you hadn’t expected it either.

Thankfully, you hadn’t been on the ladder, only trying to figure out how to set it up. It was one of those compact ones that saved space but required some innovative thinking to get the taller height you needed. One crash and a YouTube video later, the ladder was now secure, and then came the knock on the front door.

The thoughts flew by – I don’t belong here, I can’t do this alone, they’re going to scold me and I haven’t even done the upper half yet – but the guy just seemed curious and confused. Didn’t even comment on your awkward outfit of navy boys’ basketball shorts and ill-fitted gray sports bra. Both on super sale. You were still wearing your bra because of the incorrect size, so the gray blob was bordering on ugly-ass tank top.

Look.

Some people had clothing they didn’t care about to paint in and some people had to dive in sale bins because they left behind most of their wardrobe and, with the clothes, their bad memories.

That was the intent.

Things rarely go as intended.

For instance, you thought you were going to feel imposter syndrome for a neighbor knowing that you were painting your own goddamn walls. You turned away from the door after you locked it, frowning. That’s right. Like it or not, bad decisions and minus an ex-boyfriend later, these were your walls. You looked up, out the large, floor-to-ceiling living room windows, and saw the sunlight sparkle over the sprawling city, walls painted half-black and half white surrounding you, and you could say that you never wanted to be here, but.

It was a sick view.

We own this condo. Paint it.

Your muscles were sore from the repeated swiping motion of the paint roller, but there was still this inexplicable energy coursing through you.

“What if it doesn’t look good?” you had asked Yoongi.

He had shrugged. “Then we paint it again.”

“It’ll be dark.”

“Wow, really? I thought black was supposed to be bright and cheerful,” was the sarcastic quip. “Just believe you have good taste and paint the damn walls.”

This condo was an investment that made you poor.

That was the truth you needed to face.

You have good taste.

You scrunched your face slightly as you remembered Yoongi’s facial expression. Was he… praising you or himself? You squinted. This guy. Picked up the paint roller again and saturated it with ink black, making crispy crinkly sounds as you shuffled over the plastic. Good taste. Well, that was relative, wasn’t it? Everything was at the end of the day. You climbed onto the ladder and began the repetitive, monotone motion once more but at a higher elevation. You should have put your music back on. Your phone was on the plastic-covered mattress and you were not about to go back down until you finished this section or ran out of paint. This was going to be a long process, but you had several days and too much time as Yoongi had already left to visit his family.

Now you were alone with a lot of paint and mind-numbing fumes.

Shit, you should have opened the window.

You would have to paint a second coat anyway. Who cared if the first coat was shitty?

Sigh.

Climbing down and doing your due diligence before returning to your post.

You had forgotten once again to put your music back on. Hah. Well, that was fine; you had yourself. You didn’t mind being alone. Heh, sometimes it was better to be alone. You continued rolling away, hardworking in the consistent rhythm. Thinking about it now, this might have been the first time in a long time that you were okay with being alone. Before, you had felt guilty whenever you weren’t thinking about your relationship. Huh. Odd. Was it some kind of mental self-reassurance when you knew something was off? It was hard to tell, but possible.

Everything was off about that relationship. You just had too much pride to admit it.

You sighed, climbing back down to reload.

Wait a second. Was this why there was that wider step towards the top of the ladder? You poured some more paint in the tray and carried it up with you. Oh shit. Wow. Innovation. You coughed and went back to a different patch of wall. No one saw that. See, perks of being alone.

Well, you didn’t hate Yoongi being here.

You stopped painting.

You didn’t just think that.

You went back to painting. Shut up, nagging feeling. You furiously painted on, ignoring your soreness, telling that little voice in your head to shut up, because there were plenty of reasons not to think stuff like that. Firstly, you weren’t ready to think stuff like that. And what if it was only hopeful transference rather than genuine feeling? Asshole or not, your ex-boyfriend’s betrayal of trust was not something so easily overcome. It wasn’t fair to Yoongi either, pretending to like him if you weren’t sure.

You liked Yoongi before you broke up, too.

Wasn’t that fucked up?

You sighed and came back down, careful to scoot the ladder without spilling and causing a mess. Back up and at it. Of course, it was fucked up. And you knew it was, which might have been why you let it get that bad. Might? Was why you let it get that bad. Two hypocrites were meant for each other. You huffed, puffing your cheeks. It wasn’t enough to hold the ticking grenade; you had needed confirmation it was a, in fact, a bomb.

Maybe even hoping it would end you.

It didn’t.

For some reason, you thought Yoongi could see that in you.

Damn, he’s really living in your system, hm?

You frowned.

Your phone rang.

You almost jumped, startled at the sudden sound of an old song you used to enjoy. Back when you were a teenager, and the memories came back as you climbed down. A kid who just really liked rock’n’roll, and parents who did not, but that kid didn’t care, annoyingly setting it as her ringtone on her shitty flip phone. Couldn’t you be her again? Before you had time to ponder, you checked your hands for paint and picked up your phone, answering it.

“Hello?”

“Did you eat?”

You blinked, sitting down on the crinkly plastic upon hearing that deep, raspy voice. “Uh, no. I was gonna stop by the convenience store when the first coat was done.”

“No, you weren’t. You were gonna skip a meal,” Min Yoongi tutted. “Because you don’t want to be a nuisance and use the money I had left you.”

Damn. He knew you, all right.

“If I forget, I forget,” you grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, pick up the food order from the front desk when it comes. They told me about thirty minutes.”

“You don’t have to order food for me. I’m not a kid,” you hissed.

“It’s the pho spot you like and if I don’t put food in front of you, you won’t eat. You intend to do all that hard work without some fuel?” A pause. You made a disapproving noise. “And I know you’re not a kid. By the way, what’s your waist measurement?”

You remained a grump. “Why?”

“I’m here, so I’m going to buy you some clothes.”

“Don’t buy me clothes. Don’t spend money–”

“You need things,” Yoongi cut you off. “Unless you want to come with me? You don’t trust me?”

“That’s not it and you know it,” you snapped back. “It’s not worth–”

“Of course, it isn’t. It’s vain and silly and superficial. And I’m still going to buy you things, so tell me your waist measurement.”

“Yoongi, this is your hard-earned money,” you puffed out, exasperated.

“Yeah, and I make money to provide you with a good life because I think you are the most important person to me. So, do you want me to guess with my hands or are you going to meet me halfway?”

Dead silence.

He called your name, softly.

You told him in centimeters.

“Got it. Don’t forget to check the front desk in thirty minutes.”

“I love you.”

His hair was stuck to his face due to sweat. “What?”

“I said I love you,” she said, staring right at him, their chests shuddering from exertion.

Yoongi couldn’t believe it, but also he wasn’t surprised. The room still smelled faintly like paint. The windows still had no curtains or blinds. They were still fucking on the mattress in the center of the living room and he was holding the used condom when she said I love you.

The walls and ceiling were all black, covering them in darkness as the city below glimmered with light.

“I love you,” was his reply.

It startled him, the suddenness of his response. He knew he did. Of course, he did, and he turned away quickly, making his way to the kitchen and throwing away the condom, skin tingling, cheeks aflame, and he was startled by the feeling that remained. He hadn’t expected those words to come out of her mouth even though he was sure of his own feelings. Yoongi had resigned himself to not hear it from her lips. He also didn’t need to hear it to know that it was true.

He saw her head to the bathroom.

Time was funny sometimes.

Suddenly they were both staring at each other on the mattress, the usual ritual completed, and the moment suspended.

“You didn’t have to say it,” he finally said. “For my sake.”

“I didn’t.” Her hair curled over her shoulder, caressing her curves. “I said it for my sake.”

Blankets and pillows and questions.

“I wondered about the validity of it,” she admitted to him. “Been wrong before and all that. Might still be wrong. So, I said it just to see if I regretted it.”

“Ah.”

They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Do you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

He half-smiled. How very simple yet complicated. He understood. “All the paint fumes really got to your head, huh?”

She looked up at him and he realized with a start that she, too, was half-smiling.

He reached out, smoothing her hair.

“You have a pretty face, Yoongi,” she teased, eyes sparkling.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it would be too cliché, you and me,” she continued and the tone was different now, softer and more serious. “I thought you would get tired.”

She meant, of me.

He had thought this was cliché too. Cliché didn’t mean worthless though. His hand fell, and rested over hers without a second thought. Warm and against the sheets. “If I felt that way, I would have stopped speaking to you long ago. You could take care of yourself too.” Not safely, but could. “Except for money.”

She smirked.

“So you’re saying I need a suga daddy.”

Yoongi twitched.

“Part of me wanted to sell the condo as soon as possible,” she went on, casually glossing over the comment. “But the realtor said it would be a bad idea. I wouldn’t have any buyers without a minimum of six months or a year. Too many superstitions. Part of me thought I should…”

She looked up to the ceiling.

It was a high-rise, after all.

“All the reasons to move here were his. More convenient, better opportunities, owning rather than renting for the investment… I believed in it, more than myself.”

He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t because all those things had benefitted him already. He didn’t only agree to move in help her out. He was still a working music producer. But she didn’t seem to be saying it to condone him.

“I didn’t really think this place was mine until I painted the walls.”

Yoongi thought he should at least confess this part. “That’s why I told you to paint them.”

A small laugh. “You don’t like it, huh?”

“Don’t you remember the walls of the old studio were dark gray? That was my doing. I always resented the last place I rented because they didn’t let me paint the walls.”

“Ah… He painted over the gray.”

“I bet he did.”

They had fallen to the bed now, side by side.

“I didn’t think this would work out,” she breathed.

“I thought it might,” he hummed.

“Why?”

“You’re hot and clever and I wanted you from the first day I saw you.”

A warm chuckle. “Just like that?”

“Well, you had to give me a chance. Couldn’t make the first move due to the circumstances.”

“It was a convoluted and confusing one.”

“Eh, life’s unfair.”

“Your husband already paid.”

Your what?

“What?”

The cashier waved you away. You shuffled back, dazed, seeing Min Yoongi emerge from the bathroom in the corner of the restaurant, tucking a bit of his long black hair behind his ears and finding you in front of him.

“The cashier just called you my husband,” you declared.

He shrugged.

“Surprise.”

You blinked at him.

Patrons chatted and laughed as if this was a normal day. The music was horrendous covers of cheesy 2000’s pop. It was very strange, but the pho was good and well-priced, which was why Yoongi and you came here often after his meetings with music companies. Popular talent was in high demand.

He ticked his head to your outfit. “I know you like this dress I bought you, but you’ve left your coat at the table.”

“Oh, shit.”

“You’ve been scatterbrained ever since you started writing again.”

“Shut up.”

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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