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#they should maybe also consider a warning tone
mylittleredgirl · 2 months
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that moment when you cross the point of no return with a character should be accompanied by a specific chime i think. like 🔔 congratulations! this one has been installed in the Permanent Collection and you will never stop thinking about them as long as you live
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fantasylandloser · 9 months
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marriage pact pt.2
summary: the besties are getting used to their new relationship
Warnings: smut, mdni, oral (fem recieving), mentions of dry humping, mentions of implied bi!reader, Stevie's happy trail makes another appearance, public sex?? (not actually penetration), lmk if i missed anything
pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
A/N: thank you to all the people who showed part one so much love, especially everyone who had v unhinged things to say (i love you the most) also i gave us a cool ass, loving mom
part 1
*****
“I’m just saying, we should talk about it eventually.” Steve tells you, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. He stood in the doorway of your bathroom watching you evade questions he threw at you about your past hookups. Essentially he didn’t really care, he was the last person in Hawkins who should have the privilege of caring about who other people hookup with. But he was a little curious, considering your face went up in flames as soon as he brought it up. Also maybe slightly jealous.
You huff at Steve’s persistence, dropping your mascara back into the bag. “Are we going to talk about all the people you’ve hooked up with Steve?” Annoyance laced your tone at his line of questioning, but he knew your annoyance was just poorly concealed embarrassment. 
The two of you were supposed to be getting ready to meet up with Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan when he randomly asked you about the past guys you’ve been with. He was already dressed and now he was waiting for you to be, curiously watching your every step. 
“We’ve talked about me for years. Everyone in Hawkins has talked about me.” He laughs, a little self deprecating. “We’ve never talked about you, and we don’t have to.” He’s moving in on you arms, caging you into the counter, shaggy hair sweeping from his forehead. “I’m just curious, not judging you.” Your eyes meet his sincere ones in the mirror, the kicked puppy look he’s been giving you since you were kids working like a charm.
“Billy Hargrove fingered me in our Anatomy class, junior year.” You start, your face red as you shift your eyes, from Steve’s shocked ones. “That was before he..”You trail off not knowing exactly how to word your next thoughts.
“Beat me to a pulp?” Steve offers, with a sardonic grin.
You nod with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You really mean it, too. You felt so bad after you saw Steve like that, bruised up by a guy that had been touching you.
“Not judging, remember.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and despite the ugly feeling of jealousy sitting in the pit of his stomach he really wanted you to continue.
“I always knew he had a thing for you.” He says, thinking of all the times he’d catch Billy staring at you. He’s pretty sure that’s half the reason he beat his ass. Steve would always have an arm around your shoulder or one of your legs in his lap. 
You go back to distracting yourself as you put your eyeliner on. “And don’t be weird about this later,” You say, which gives him warning to brace himself. “Eddie took my virginity in the back of his van senior year.” You say it so casually that Steve’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly. 
“Eddie?” Steve says, his face wearing his shock. “You mean like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” You slap his arm at that.
“Don’t call him that.” You defend, which Steve rolls his eyes at, knowing Eddie loved the nickname.
“Our friend, Eddie? Who, we happen to be seeing tonight?” Obviously too flabbergasted to remember his no judgment rule, you quickly remind him. 
“I thought this was a judgment free zone.” You murmur, too mortified to even look at him. This brings Steve back to himself.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Didn’t see that coming.” Steve’s hands are on his hips and you know he’s about two seconds from pacing a hole through a floor to wrap his head around it. You can’t help but think he’s adorable for stressing himself out about a question he asked you to answer.
“Yeah we hooked up for a while I guess, but then-” You’re cut off by your own thoughts, sheepish at the thought of your next words until you look at Steve’s puzzled expression. “Then Tommy threw that huge party and you got drunk off your ass and told me we were gonna get married and I just-” You shrug, pretending to be oh so busy with your eyelash curler. “Broke it off with him the next day. Didn’t wanna lead him on, when my head was… elsewhere.” Thinking of you. You tell Steve all this without making a morsel or eye contact. It should really scare Steve how good you are at playing casual with your feelings. 
“Oh, honey.” The kiss he plants on your shoulder is sweet, as he secures his arms around you. “I really love you.” Steve whispers, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but in this context it is. The words are so much heavier after the shift in dynamic between the two of you.
“I love you too.” Again you say it so unbothered, so naturally, that Steve would think you didn’t mean it if he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened. 
“So, after Eddie?” He prods. You take a second like you’re contemplating telling him. 
“If I tell you, you can’t tell Robin.” Steve looks confused but agrees regardless. “You can’t tell anyone.” You reiterate. 
“Okayy, based on what you’ve already told me I’m not sure how it could get worse.” Steve says. “But I’m not judging.’ He adds after his little sentence. 
“Last year, Tammy Thompson, once.” It’s all you say before Steve understands and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 
“I don’t know you at all.” He states dramatically. 
“In my defense..” you began, “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because like right after I had been talking to Robin and told her that I went to the mall with her and then, she randomly mentioned that she used to have the hugest crush on her. And then she told me that the two of you hooked up before and it was weird. Because I never in a million years thought we would have any overlap.” By the time you’re done with your explanation, Steve is still looking at you in shock.
“You don’t tell me anything.” He lies, unaware of the pout that’s formed on his face.
“I tell you everything important.” You counter. You look like you’re thinking, biting your bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal for you.”
Steve is all over you before you can overthink any further, and he’d never tell you but you look like you’re about to launch into tears. “Baby it’s not a big deal… I’m just surprised I didn’t know this about you.” He finally understands some of your hesitancy about opening up about your sex life. You were scared to be judged, by him of all people. 
“That was the shortest list ever, if it was me we would have been standing here for hours.” He jokes, it's another self deprecating jab and it’s one you can’t ignore. 
“Stop doing that. Be nice to yourself.” You scold lightly. 
“It’s true.” You knew Steve was no longer a fan of his own promiscuity. You know that he had some regrets about it, but you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.
“It’s hot.” When the words leave your lips, you find yourself turning around in his arms, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. You meet his eyes, watching the bewildered expression on his face.
“It’s really hot for me, that my boyfriend is more experienced than me. Now.. you can teach me what you know.” You elaborate. Steve’s eyes are watching your lips intently.
“Call me that again.” He requests, his voice gruff. You hold his gaze even though your entire body is on fire from the sudden intensity.
“My boyfriend.” You say softly. The first time you acknowledge him as such. He’s leaning in to kiss you when you duck under his arm, not allowing him to smudge your newly done make up or make you any later than you know you are.
“We’re late.” You remind him, grabbing your shoes. 
“Fucking tease.”
*****
Your night out with Steve and your friends, paled in comparison to waking up to him. He’s holding you tightly against him. No shirt on his chest, per usual. A large hand splayed under your shirt and against your stomach. His heat is almost too much for you and you consider rolling away briefly but that’s the last thing you want. 
Without ever opening your eyes or moving, you flail your legs to kick the blanket off you, only pausing when you hear a throaty chuckle vibrating beneath you. You freeze realizing you’d been caught looking silly.
“You hot?” He asks, ever so attentive. Usually when the two of you slept in bed together, there was a respectful amount of space between you, now your limbs were intertwined and your heart beats synced. 
“Mhm.” You hum, still half sleep. You wouldn’t know it but Steve woke up about thirty minutes before you and he was also feeling like the bed had turned into a sauna overnight, but he’d rather burn to death than wake you up. 
Still groggy from sleep, you whine when Steve removes himself from you to turn on the fan and remove the covers the rest of the way off of you. Much to your relief. 
“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He tells you, letting you know he wasn’t coming back to bed. You were unsure of how he did that. Getting up as soon as he woke up. You were more of a wake up and rot in bed for two more hours kind  of girl.
You hadn’t realized, you’d drifted back off to sleep until Steve’s waking you up. “Wanna get up for me, so we can spend some time together?” He offers.
“We could go play basketball at the gym.” He tries again when you don’t budge. This has you perking up slightly. For a reason unknown to him, every time, even in high school, if he mentioned anything to do with basketball you would be there. At first he thought you wanted to play, especially since you proved yourself to be useful on the court, but when he mentioned it to you, you looked disturbed at the idea. 
You’re rolling out of bed without answering, but he knows that is your answer and you’re just adjusting to the morning again. So he goes on making sure to cook you a good breakfast. 
When you finally emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered you find Steve behind the stove looking very boyfriendish. You can’t help circling your arms around his waist as you inhale his scent.
“Morning’” There’s soft music playing from his phone but other than that the house is quiet. 
“Good Morning. Baby.” You grin into his shoulder, feeling oddly domestic..
After eating breakfast with Steve, you made your way to the gym. You’re stopped a million times because this is Hawkins and everyone knows Steve, the once golden boy basketball star, and you who graduated top of your class with a long list of extracurriculars. But most people still only referred to you when speaking about Steve and that was okay with you.
Playing with Steve is never actually about winning for you. The win is seeing Steve like this. Sweaty. In his zone. So fucking focused. You were competitive everywhere else, but on the basketball court, you were all about Steve. He played less now that you were older, so when he offered you couldn’t help but jump at the chance.
You’re barely paying attention to the game because Steve is everywhere. You’re losing really badly even though he’s taking it easy on you. You don’t care.
“Where’s your mind at, honey?” He asks, dribbling the ball he just stole from you and shooting it. You pretend to be frustrated, pretend like you actually care if you lose, like you’re actually giving your best. Steve knows better, but he doesn’t push it, figuring you were just tired still. 
When a group of guys Steve played basketball with came into the gym, begging ‘king’ steve to join a game with them, Steve almost declined until you made some comment about being tired and going to sit on the bleachers for a break.
You knew the real show was about to start, and that he’d love a chance to show the guys from high school how he’s still got it. Steve’s gearing all the way up when they start picking teams, and you know based on the line up it’s going to be an aggressive game.
You’re dazed while you watch him play for the next hour. He’s concentrating hard, yelling out an instruction to his other teammates, in charge, sweating so hard that he keeps lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead and revealing that happy trail. Your composure is crumbling quickly. 
And you don’t realize the way you’re looking at him even though you know you’re thirsting hard. He sees though. About halfway through the game when he’s checking on you during a time out. You give him your water bottle to drink out of even though you hate sharing germs, run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and give him two kisses despite the fact that he knows he tastes like sweat, and that you have an audience. 
After that he realizes how hard you’re watching him and he knows he has to show out for the end of the game. Everytime he glances at you, you look so invested. Like you used to in high school when you suddenly became interested in basketball again after a long hiatus during your pre teen years. Except now there’s a new detail that Steve has noticed. You’re squeezing your thighs together so hard, he thinks you’re about to burst. He can’t help but wonder how long you’ve been that way and if that was the reason you’re so intrigued with basketball, with no interest in playing. 
Steve made sure to win. Made sure he earned every filthy thing he was going to do to you. When he walks up to you, you don’t realize that you’ve been caught. Not when he’s dragging you behind him, not even when he opens the door to the men’s locker room, ushering you inside. It’s when he locks the door with you against it that your brain finally kickstarts into realizing what’s happening. 
“Steve we’re gonna get caught-” You start but your voice is lodged in your throat when his fingers dip into your shorts. You know what he finds when he does, and if you didn’t the smirk on his face would have told you. 
“All this from watching me play, honey.” The condescending lilt to his voice, has your brain turning to mush in the best way. That mixed with the way he’s running his knuckles over your  folds. 
“Steve”  You try again, more firm when you hear voices passing from outside the door, but your voice just turns into a whimper, as you try to cope with the way he’s touching you. 
“Shut up for me, so I can focus.” He shushes, yanking your shorts down. You gasp when he does so, but step out of them nonetheless when he gestures for you to do so. This is his first time touching you like this since you dry humped him for all he was worth in the family video parking lot and you’re curious about where he’s going with this. 
He grabs your panties, balling them up in his hand before coming back up to you. “Open your mouth.” You do without a second thought, letting him stuff the underwear into your mouth.
“Fuck you’re a good girl.” He notes before dropping to his knees. “Prettiest pussy, I’ve ever seen.” And he’s not talking to you really but to your pussy. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before going in, licking and slurping at you like a starved man.
You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so sloppy about it and you love every second.
When he leans down a bit to fuck your hole open with his tongue, his nose nudges your clit. Your moans and whimpers are concealed by the makeshift gag, but the way your hand flys to Steve’s hair to hold him in place lets him know exactly the effect he’s having on you.
He chuckles when he feels you clenching up on his tongue, already so close and he’s just barely touched you. He presses you deeper into the door when he feels your knees buckling, moaning into your cunt at the feeling of you tugging his hair. 
Steve wishes he didn’t need you to be quiet. He wishes he could hear every single one of your whimpers and moans. Hear you calling him ‘Stevie’ in that whiny little voice, but he also knows he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. Not when you’re all his.
You tumble over the edge pretty quickly, tears cascading down your face, which is the first thing Steve sees when he stands back up, licking his lips. He’s rubbing your overstimulated clit, when he pulls the damp panties out your mouth, releasing all the built up sounds from you. 
“Aw, honey.” He coos, wiping away the tears with your panties. He’s fucking filthy. He kisses you after that, so tenderly that you almost forget how he’s toying with you.
“Stevie..” There it is. Steve thinks to himself. He kisses you again trying to hush your moans.
“You like watching me play, sweetheart? That turns you on?” He asks, still massaging your clit.
“So much.” You admit. Steve wants to laugh at how gone you are, but he’s affected just as much as you.
“Not very nice, that you didn’t tell me.” He says. 
“M’sorry, Stevie.” You’re getting too loud and Steve has to shush you as he hears voices in the hallway, suddenly remembering where you are.
“It’s okay baby, you gonna cum for me?” As soon as he suggests it, he knows it's coming and his lips are back on yours, silencing your moans.
******
“Dude, why are you staring at me?”  Steve asks you, his face red. You stared at him all the way home from the gym. You stared at him when you got home and it had been an hour later, both of you showered and supposed to watch a movie, and you were still staring. 
“I just think you’re kinda rude.” You say.
“I’m rude?” Steve asks, flabbergasted wondering what he could have possibly done in such a short period of time. His mouth hanging open.
‘“Yes because I have had, I want to say maybe like three- four orgasms with other people, in the span of multiple years and you’re telling me this whole time you knew how to do that twice in the span of not even like ten minutes.” Steve’s once red face was now taken over by a cocky grin. 
“Like dude. How did you do that? I’ve never done that before.” You can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re inflating his huge ego. You’re genuinely confused and you’re thinking it has to be witchcraft.
“It’s easy when you’re that turned on.” He tells you, but you shake your head.
“I’m always that turned on.” You dismiss, making him laugh at how genuine you sound when you say it. 
“Always?” He asked, to which you nod. 
“You walk around here shirtless every morning. Of course I am.” You say simply, and Steve can’t help but be surprised at your sudden frankness.  “And even then I can’t even make myself cum twice. Especially not that fast.”
“So, let me get this right.” Steve starts with a mischievous grin. “You’re saying when you play with yourself, after seeing me shirtless you can’t make yourself cum twice?” He’s teasing you for your slip up and you know it. You can’t help rolling your eyes.
“That’s what I said, Steven.” You say playfully, your eyes narrowed. 
His eyes narrow back at you before he’s tackling you to the couch, tickling you. Laughing at your shrieks, and the sight of you trying to wriggle away from him.
“I’m sorry!” You let out in between gasps for air and laughter. When Steve finally lets up you pinch him for being unfair. 
When you finally catch your breath, you realize Steve is staring at you with a look that can only be described as adoring. 
“Here you go, again.” You say with pretend exasperation, and shaking your head. You’re only teasing him, so that you yourself don’t turn into a pile of mush like always. Steve rolls his eyes at you, realizing just how much he’s missed your banter, these last couple days. You’d gone shy on him, when getting used to the changes in your relationship and he was glad to see that your sass was back in full swing.
“Come give me a kiss.” He insists, gesturing to his lap. 
“Why are you always trying to get me into your lap?’ You ask before settling down on top of him anyway. Nothing sexual about it, as you press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before trying to move again. 
“I like you here.” He says before pulling you back down on top of him to get another one. “If that’s how you rush touching yourself, no wonder you can’t make yourself cum.” He jabs, even though that’s not what you said. 
You’re about to respond, when you hear someone clear their throat. “Mom!” you yelp in surprise, practically flying off of Steve’s lap.
“Well this is an interesting way to be welcomed home.” Your mom looks almost amused at the display in front of her. The other part is as shocked as you feel, knowing she was home way earlier than she was supposed to be.
“How long were you standing there?” You ask, mortified, You’re seconds away from having the worst meltdown of your life. 
“Long enough to know that you should invest in a vibrator. “ She goads, sending Steve a look. He’s redder than a tomato, knowing that the woman who’s known him since before he was ten heard him say that. 
Your mom is way chiller than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she’s always been that way. Unbothered and entertained.  If that was your dad standing there, you both know this would be an entirely different story. 
‘Oh my goodness. Kill me now.” You mutter dramatically.
“No need for theatrics. I knew last week when you came home with that hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother to try to cover it up either. Where’s the respect?” She jokes , as you hide your face behind your hands at your carelessness. 
You’re sure that life cannot get much worse than this.
“Good for you guys. But no and I mean it..” she started seriously “no funny business at all, on my couch.” When you groan she doubles downs. “I’m serious that couch was expensive.”
“Okay mom, we got it, thank you.” You say pulling Steve up from the couch and towards your room, too mortified to make eye contact with her.
Once you and Steve make it to your room both of your horrified faces meet… and you’re doubling over in deranged laughter. 
*****
tags: @smilesworldsposts @livsters @ali-r3n @em-guitar-pick @wolflover1005 @lexingtoon @eds1986
p.s. some of these didn't work and idk why
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shotoh · 1 year
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all mine
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SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 9.6k+
genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst
tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language
author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all 
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The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.
“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.
“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.
“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.
The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”
Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.
A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.
She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.
One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.
If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.
Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.
Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”
Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.
“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”
“But–”
“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.
“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”
.
.
Man, what an annoying woman.
Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.
His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.
“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.
But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.
Besides...
“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”
His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”
He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.
You.
“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.
After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.
While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.
The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.
Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.
Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.
You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.
The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.
Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.
“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.
Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.
Fuckin’ hell.
The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.
In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.
Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”
The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.
His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.
Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.
“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.
The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”
He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.
You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.
Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.
“You’re killing me here, dammit.”
You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”
He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.
Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.
He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.
“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”
The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.
Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.
Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.
The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.
He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.
“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.
Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”
“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.
Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”
“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.
“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”
He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”
“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”
“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.
“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”
“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”
Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.
Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?
To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.
Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?
This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.
“You free tomorrow?”
“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”
“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”
Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”
“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.
Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”
“Hold it, I still have a piece–”
“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”
“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.
With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.
“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.
“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”
Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,
“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”
.
.
There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.
The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.
Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.
Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.
Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.
While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.
“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.
“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”
“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”
You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.
“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.
“H… Hold the door!” she pants.
Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.
You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.
She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.
“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”
It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.
You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.
You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.
“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.
With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.
I thought I covered that…
You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this  morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.
You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.
You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.
Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”
She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”
You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?
You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.
The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.
“Heya, Katsu–”
“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.
You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.
He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”
“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.
“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.
“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.
“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”
Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”
Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.
“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.
After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”
“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.
“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.
Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”
“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”
“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.
“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.
As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”
You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.
The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.
You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.
“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.
You bite your lower lip. “Well…”
Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”
It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.
In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.
You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.
“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.
“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.
“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”
“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.
A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.
Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.
“You did well, princess.”
His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.
God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.
Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.
While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.
The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.
“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”
“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.
“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”
Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”
“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”
A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.
“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”
Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.
“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.
In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.
Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”
“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.
“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.
He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”
Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.
“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”
At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.
“Bend over.”
Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.
With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.
“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.
Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.
“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”
“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”
At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.
“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”
Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.
“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.
“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.
“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.
“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.
Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.
“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.
The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”
Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.
“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.
“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”
Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.
“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.
“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.
Oh, fuck it.
As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.
You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.
“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.
“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.
By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.
With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.
Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.
“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point
“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”
“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.
Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.
“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”
“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.
Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.
After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.
“Feel sticky…”
“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.
Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”
“Fine. Such a princess…”
“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.
The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”
Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.
“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”
You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”
“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”
“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.
“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.
And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.
“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.
“What’s so funny?!”
“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”
At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.
“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.
The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.
“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.
“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.
And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.
When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.
“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.
“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.
You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”
“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.
“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”
.
.
The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.
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daegall · 7 months
Text
☆ drunk confessions.
➷ in which a drunk person's words is a sober person's thoughts.
pairing: (opla!)zoro x (implied fem!) reader
genre: fluff, slight angst, slight crack, mutual pining, friends to lovers!AU (ish..?)
warnings: lots and lots of alcohol, none after that but if you find one i can add lmk!! (+ lots and love of love for smiley zoro!!!!)
word count: 3.4k words (SHEESH)
a/n: requested by @acupnoodle !! tysm bae for the request, i hope you like it!!!! my inbox is now open for requests for opla (mostly zoro tbh LOL) if anyone would like to request ^^ (make sure its sfw as i am a minor!!!)
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This is sick. This is just so sick.
Okay, maybe Zoro could be exaggerating. But what else is supposed to think, when you, the you who he has feelings for, is in the kitchen with Sanji, the annoying cook who he bickers with at least 5 times a day?
And especially since the day Sanji got him to blurt out about his feelings for you while he was drunk?
Zoro never thought he'd say it, but maybe he should lay low with the booze.
The swordsman can only grumble and huff as Luffy goes on and on about something—he hears something about Shanks. But all Zoro can do, is replay the memory of you sitting on the counter, right next to Sanji, who was peeling a few apples, and with a small frown on your face at that.
First, he thought maybe the cook had hurt you in any way. Then he realized it couldn't be, you'd be marching away from him. Then he assumed it could be you, with some personal trouble. But then you would always, without a fail, go to Zoro for help in that case.
Then, Zoro came to his final conclusion.
He had hurt you in some way.
But how could he? He'd never even consider the thought—he'd kill anyone who'd hurt you, because he cares—
No.
There's no way.
Sanji didn't tell you about his feelings... right?
Indeed he didn't. But Zoro doesn't know that.
What he also doesn't know, is the fact that you went to Sanji to talk about your best friend himself.
"He's been avoiding me," You mumble out weakly, picking at a few crumbs left on the counter. Gross, but hey, it's a pirate ship. There could be much worse things than a few specks of food. "I don't remember if I did anything wrong,"
Sanji knows you didn't. In fact, it was all his fault that Zoro was avoiding you. At the moment, having the usually stoic, cold swordsman admit his feelings for you with a dopey smile, the most loving tone as he describes every little thing about you, it seemed like the best thing on Earth. The man who everyone thought would never break, broke, all because of you.
But now, Sanji thinks it's stupid. He thinks it's stupid that Zoro's avoiding you because one person knew about his feelings. How cowardly could he be? But then again, he has absolutely no experience in relationships.
Sanji offers you an apple slice, his voice comforting and soft. "I don't think it's you," He smiles when you take the apple, taking a bite. "you could never wrong him."
"Then what is it?" Your voice is laced with such helplessness, a tone of worry and guilt buried underneath. It breaks Sanji's heart to see you like this. You play with the bracelet on your wrist, something Zoro had bought you when you were at a small town. You hadn't taken it off since, and it's been 3 months.
3 months marks your feelings for him as well.
"Why don't you ask him?"
At this question, your head whips to Sanji's direction, shaking instantly. "No! Hell no, it'd make him hate me even more!"
"Y/N..." Sanji's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, his eyes glistening with genuine care. It shocks you how serious he is about the whole situation. "he doesn't hate you. You might be the only one he genuinely feels safe with, you hear me?"
It's silent for a moment, as you bask in his words, the words in which hit you unexpectedly deeply. Yes, there have been times you've patched him up after a particularly harsh fight, yes, you both have shed tears together, and yes, he lets you touch his swords and lets you use—holy shit, Roronoa Zoro does care about you!
You decide to ask him, just as Sanji had suggested you do.
Zoro, on the other hand, has a different plan.
Despite the wallowing pit in his stomach, occupied by the green monster labeled as jealousy, Zoro knows you wouldn't go for Sanji. He's like an older brother to you.
But alas, he cannot control his emotions. And so, he's come up with possibly the worst plan ever.
Roronoa Zoro is going to flirt with you. The same way Sanji flirts with Nami.
It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, but Zoro is desperate. He's never felt this way towards anyone, ever, and his pride is way too big for him to ask advice from anyone on the crew.
"Zoro!"
Said man's heartrate doubles the moment he realizes it's your voice, your sweet, sweet voice calling out to him. Oh, how special he feels now, to have you by his side, to have you care for him and make him smile, how has he not realized how blessed he was just in your presence?
Okay, maybe Zoro was exaggerating.
He glances over his shoulder, attempting to act cool with a neutral face, as he murmurs. "What is it?"
As cold as ever, his gaze pierces yours. But... there's something different in it. It's colder.
Of course, this wasn't Zoro's intentions, clearly just trying to act cool and not confess his feelings for you right then and there, but the ice in his tone, his gaze, his aura, has your heart sinking.
Maybe he really did hate you now.
"Do you mind if we could talk?"
God, just the thought of having a chat with you has Zoro's heart soaring, his whole mind and being flooding with tenderness knowing that you'd always talk to him.
"What's up?" He sighs, fully turning around to you. His body language is the usual, calm and collected, the usual hand on his swords. Zoro is thankful you can't get a look inside, you'd be seeing a whole zoo and his running thoughts about how pretty you look today.
You step closer to Zoro.
"Did... did I do something wrong?"
This time, Zoro's heart twists in confusion.
Wrong? You? How could you ever think that?
"Because if I have, don't hesitate to tell me—"
"—your face."
What?
Holy shit, Zoro thinks you're ugly?
"...Is this your way of telling someone they're ugly?"
To be frank, you're kind of glad it's not about anything that you did, that would break you.
However, him directly telling you you're ugly? You never really cared if anyone called you ugly, but Roronoa Zoro? The only man you'd every trust? Your own crush?
Your heart twists in pain.
"No! No, that's not what I meant,"
Zoro's heartstrings tug at the sight of your pained face, the frown curling on your lips, he should never open his mouth ever again.
"I-I just meant that... you..."
He feels his cheeks warm up. Is he blushing?!
"you look really pretty today,"
Those were the very last words you would have expected coming out of Zoro's mouth.
A silence envelops the air. It's... awkward, to say the least, but a little endearing, with the both of you shyly looking away.
Zoro thinks you're pretty.
Absolutely stunning with your pursed lips trying to contain a smile, the glint in your eyes known as relief, and a little hint of mischief.
"Thanks," You mumble quietly, shrugging, though you're a far cry from casual.
Zoro mirrors you, leaning his hip onto the ship railing. "Don't mention it."
And you don't. Not for the next few hours, at least.
To say Zoro's plan of flirting with you failed, was quite the understatement. Sure, he finally got to say what he's been holding in for months, but he was expecting Sanji level flattery, the teasing smiles and confidence, not whatever the two of you went through.
Zoro feels like an idiot.
You, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. it was genuine, and unlike Sanji's flirting, it's left you thinking about the moment for hours after it's passed. It seemed so genuine, carefully thought out (though it wasn't) and soft, something you didn't know Zoro could be.
You like Zoro's flirting much more than Sanji's. Though, that may be due to the fact that you have feelings for the swordsman.
The sun sets, leaving the pirate ship quiet (for once) and calm, just like the ocean, with it's soft waves and tranquil energy.
What isn't tranquil tonight, is you.
Instead of going to sleep, you've decided to have a drink. Yes, you may have stolen from Zoro's hidden stash in which he only showed you. Yes, you may have had more than one drink.
3, to be precise.
Why? Well, how are you supposed to go on the night? Simply thinking over and over about Zoro's words? His words that have left a permanent place in your heart? Your mind and soul?
How are you supposed to spend the night thinking about a man who you were sure hated you, who called you pretty and set your heart on fire, without a drink?
Besides, what's the worst that could happen?
Maybe the fact that Zoro wants a drink tonight as well.
Okay, yeah, he did say he was gonna lay low with the booze. But bad habits die hard. He's bound to drink a little here and there.
The moment he gets to the kitchen, Zoro is shocked at the sight of you, sitting on the counter, with a bottle of his beer in your hands. Your eyes are droopy, almost sleepy, a stupid lopsided smile spreading on your lips. The bottle has Zoro's name on it, written on the tape and pasted lousily over the brand name, and seeing you eye the writing and mumble his name has Zoro's heart pounding, filling with such unexpected fondness for you, ready to burst as such a volcano would.
"That's my booze,"
Your eyes blink tiredly, with no energy, as they trail to Zoro, and when you spot him, he can't believe the way your frown completely transforms into a bright grin.
"Zoro! Hey! Yeaahh, it has your name on it,"
He's shocked when you extend your hand with the bottle in it, shaking it side to side lightly. "Wanna sip?"
Your 'p' pops, and Zoro can't help but find it utterly endearing.
"Don't mind if I do," He murmurs with a small smile, wrapping his fingers around the bottle. He doesn't miss the way you maneuver your fingers to brush with his, catching your smile once they've made contact. His fingers are warm, and slightly rough.
Life of a swordsman, you suppose.
When he takes a sip of the bottle, you scooch over on the counter, tapping the space beside you. "Come join me!" Under the low light of the moon shining through the window, you look unexpectedly elegant, despite your tipsiness, the rays settling on your cheek just right.
Zoro complies, but simply leans against the counter. He takes another swig. "Any reason as to why you're here alone? Drinking my booze?"
"Been thinking," you say simply, reaching over to fiddle with a bandage on Zoro's forearm. The action is an abrupt source of serotonin to him.
His voice is laced with care and curiosity, as he asks you, "Thinking about what?"
"You,"
Oh how you never fail to get him shy. His eyes grow wide, but with the little alcohol in his system, he supposes it could work as liquid luck for tonight.
"Yeah? What about me?"
You chuckle, drunkenly, your eyes flitting from the bandage on his arm to his own eyes, no hints of hesitation or doubt. "How pretty you are,"
"You think I'm pretty?"
"Mhm," You nod. A hand is placed on your cheek, as you lean on it and continue to gaze at Zoro, almost dreamily. "your smile is pretty,"
At the mention of his smile, it appears almost instantly, and causes you to swoon even more, if it were possible. "You like my smile?"
You sigh, your own grin joining his. "Always,"
You decide to elaborate even more, deciding your sober self will have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection later.
"And you've got these freckles on your cheeks and nose, from all the hours in the sun, I always tell you to use sunscreen,"
It's true, you do.
Zoro only chuckles lightly, growing fonder and fonder of you every time you speak.
"and I love how ambitious you are to become the worlds greatest swordsman. You're always the best. To me, at least."
God, Zoro might kiss you right then and there.
"And you're so caring for everyone on the crew, don't deny it, I always see the way you do! Helping Usopp clean the ship and tie knots, listening to Luffy's nonsense rambling and storing all the maps for Nami, even for Sanji! Always buying the right ingredients for him," You breathe out a soft laugh. "and you care about me too. I think. I mean, you're always there when I have a problem personally or not, sometimes I think maybe... we could have some connection, you know? And other days... it seems like you despise me."
What?
How could you ever think he could despise you? Sure, there are some instances where you disagree with each other, but he does not hate you. He could never even think about it.
Before Zoro could comment on it, you carry on, voice growing louder and louder.
"Did I mention I love your smile?"
Zoro can't help but chuckle, reaching over to brush a few strands of your hair from your eyes. Wow, that took him more confidence than he thought.
"Yes, you have, Y/N."
"Oh... then let me mention it more," A sheepish smile grazes your lips, as you lean in close to observe his smile once you realize he is.
"And your lips. They're pretty too,"
Your eyes squint as you lean in closer, so close that your noses brush against one another. Zoro doesn't find the will in him to lean in, neither to pull back either. He simply sits there, his heart growing softer and softer when you purse your lips and tilt your head, shaking it.
"they look lonely," you state. "wanna meet mine?"
Oh, you're cute.
With the confident, almost cocky smile on your lips, eyes growing wider and wider as Zoro starts laughing.
Through your drunken eyes, seeing him smile is one thing. One thing enough to set you rambling and rambling about how much you enjoy it. Hearing him laugh? You could talk about it for hours, but you'd have too many things to say at once, you'd be left speechless. And that's exactly what happens at the moment, as you're left gaping at the sweet melody of his laughs, simply keeping your loving gaze on him.
"I'm not kidding, Zoro." You mumble. "I love you, I do."
For months, Roronoa Zoro has been so unsure about himself around you. Is he enough? Will he ever be enough? But now, hearing you state that you love him, he's sure. He loves you too, more than he could ever comprehend, and he won't doubt himself anymore.
He leans in, bumping your foreheads together clumsily. Though it hurts for a moment, it's fond, caring, as he smiles softly at your drunk state.
You could just be drunk right now.
None of this could be true.
Zoro doesn't care. If it's true or not, there has to be a reason you're telling him this. He'll ask you when you're sober.
Speaking of, "I won't kiss you," He says.
Your heart plummets to the ground, you can feel it deep in your chest, crashing through the base of the ship and sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried under such hurt hearing his words.
It lifts a moment later, however, as he places his lips on your cheek lovingly, a kiss to your forehead following.
"not when you're drunk. Don't wanna take advantage of you,"
"But you're not—"
"—I know, but it won't feel the same,"
Really, all Zoro wants to do, is place just one kiss on your lips, your lips that pout as you look up at him, hold you so closely to him, finally accept his feelings and make a move.
But, he'll wait for the morning. He'd wait forever just for you.
And as he leaves, warning you to stop drinking his booze, you're left... with a half heart. Half full with love, knowing Zoro could very much feel the same way for you, half empty, sad to have made so much effort (getting drunk should not be the way to confess to your crush) just for him to leave you hanging.
That's on you, you suppose.
He makes a very good point about the whole 'taking advantage' thing.
You guess you'll be too much of a coward when you wake up sober, too scared to fully confess, too scared to even look at him.
Zoro could not disagree more. He swears, the moment the sun has risen and you're awake, he's going to make you his. All his to hold, all his to take care of and protect, all his to love.
And as the day starts, both your minds are instantly flooded with thoughts of the other. The moment you see him, yawning as he listens to Luffy's rambling, your heart starts racing.
You don't remember that much from last night.
All you remember is the feeling of Zoro's warm lips on your skin, his caring gaze, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol you had drank. Sure, it was a far cry from how much Zoro would usually drink, but it's still a big amount to you.
Zoro has last night's events imprinted in his mind, every lingering glance he sends your way, every shy smile the two of you share, the way you scurry away quickly with an embarrassed scrunch of your nose, it takes him back to the night.
And finally, some alone time.
You find Zoro in the kitchen, checking on his booze stash, the one you had invaded the night before.
"Sorry about that, by the way," You call out, announcing your presence.
Zoro's heart soars just at the sound of your voice, small, almost guilty, and when he turns around, seeing you sit on the counter, just as you had last night, he can't stop the smile from tugging his lips upward. "It's no problem," He shrugs. "you'd never bother me,"
Roronoa Zoro, the lone wolf, the harsh swordsman saying that to you says a lot.
He approaches your figure slowly, growing more and more confident once he's realized that's exactly what you want. It's exactly what he wants too.
Finally, he's stopped right in front of you, your knees brushing slightly against his shirt. You look down at your hands placed on your laps, too shy to say anything, nor even look up at him.
"Hey," A sudden touch at your chin shocks you, and you eventually melt against his hold as he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. Like a magnet, you grow closer collectively, up until Zoro has both his hands sitting by your hips, your noses once again brushing.
This scene seems familiar.
You conclude it's what had been done last night, when he had kissed along the skin of your cheeks.
"I'm not drunk anymore," You whisper out.
Zoro chuckles, causing your entire being to wave with warmth of safety and comfort. "Yeah, I can see that."
"So you gonna give me that kiss or—"
Zoro's lips feel much warmer than you expected. They feel complete, pressed against your softly, almost hesitantly. The moment your fingers graze against his jaw, he relaxes, leaning in deeper to not only kiss your lips, but your entire soul, with love and solace, finally coming to terms with his feelings.
God, does Roronoa Zoro love you so much. He loves the way your hands creep up to mess up his (already disheveled) hair, the sigh you let out against his lips, the way you chase his lips once he's pulled away.
"What exactly did I say last night?" You mumble against his lips once he's pulled away, grabbing at his hand to play lightly with his fingers.
"Well, you mentioned how much you loved my smile," Zoro chuckles. There he goes once again, with his pretty smile and laugh, leaving you speechless and starstruck. "like, a lot."
"Did I mention that I love you?"
Zoro feels a warmth bubble from his stomach, feeling it envelop his chest, his arms and fingers when you finally intertwine your hands in a lock, his cheeks as they redden, and his lips as he finally gives you one last flash of the smile you claim to adore so much.
It's love.
"Yeah," He leans in to press your foreheads together. "I think I love you more,"
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wandasgf · 8 months
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STREAM IN PROGRESS. mdni. 18+.
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pairings: streamer ! wanda maximoff + f ! reader
summary: surely working your girlfriend up while she's on stream won't be too bad, will it?
warnings: dom!top!wanda, sub!bottom!reader, reader has long hair for the plot, hair pulling, mommy kink, this is pretty soft tbh, slight dacryphilia, exhibitionism
wc: 1.7k~
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"You guys want my girlfriend on stream?" Wanda laughs as she reads comments, the sound soft and melodic. "Are you getting tired of me already?" Her tone is teasing, and it's part of the reason she's gained such a following. Her change in demeanor over the years has allowed her to gain a bit of a loyal following, going from stoic and cursing under her breath while playing games such as Valorant and Apex Legends to joking around and being more carefree while playing, sometimes those same games, but also some not so competitive titles like Resident Evil and Outlast.
(Occasionally Fall Guys, but she thinks that might ruin her image).
She turns her head to look at you, raising a perfectly manicured hand and motioning for you to come closer. "Well, let's give the audience what they want. Though, we don't have another chair, so you're going to have to settle for my lap. What a pity." She tilts her head slightly and a small smirk graces her lips.
Another thing that's helped her gain popularity is just how bold she's willing to be. Well, that and her audience seems to love her girlfriend and how cute the two of you are together.
"We really should get another one, considering how often I have to 'settle for your lap',” you hum, settling down sideways in your girlfriend's lap, legs thrown across her thighs and arm around her shoulder so as to not completely block her from the camera.
"Well, let's not be too hasty,” Wanda murmurs as she leans up to capture your lips in a soft kiss, smiling against them. You're interrupted by the sound of Wanda’s character dying and she pulls away with a groan, "look what you did, you little brat," she teases, "distracting me like that..." She clicks her tongue in faux annoyance, “you guys ask for her to come on stream and the first thing that happens is me dying. Do you all like to see me suffer?”
The stream continues on like this, with Wanda’s teasing and banter between her and the audience as well as between you and her, until Wanda is bidding goodbye to the audience and turning off her camera in favor of focusing on you. Unbeknownst to the audience, you had been teasing your girlfriend almost since the moment you appeared on camera, the webcam doesn’t show anything below your girlfriend’s chest, so what’s the harm in having a little fun? Sure, you’d probably get punished for it later, but that was something you could worry about when the time came.
-
It had taken every ounce of patience and self control that Wanda had not to just end the stream early when your fingers somehow found their way under her shirt, nails raking across her skin, and then beneath the waistband of her sweats, playing with the band of her panties and slipping even lower, lower, until she grabbed your wrist and dug her nails into your soft skin. A warning to behave yourself, and so you did, for a few minutes anyway, and then you were back to the teasing touches. It wasn’t your fault she wouldn’t scold you on camera, and if you got her worked up enough maybe she’d skip the punishment altogether.
And you were right, because right now all she could really focus on was your weight in her lap and the fire that your fingertips left behind, the teasing touches getting bolder now that the camera was off. And then she feels your hand slip beneath the waistband of her sweats and she sees that look in your eyes, the one that tells her you think you’ve gotten away with something you wouldn’t usually. Your eyes are almost shining, it's actually quite cute, she thinks. Perhaps she should punish you right now, she’d given you a clear warning to behave yourself, it’s not her fault you just can’t listen to her.
Wanda catches your wrist once more, “Do you never learn?” Her tone is calm as she takes your arm and twists it behind your back, using it as a means to turn you around and push you over, barely giving you enough time to react and catch yourself against her desk with your free arm.
Luckily you do, bracing yourself against the hard surface with your forearm, a bloody nose for that reason would be quite embarrassing. “Do you take pleasure in disobeying me like that? In disobeying Mommy, hm?” You bite your lip as she stands from her chair, watching her movements through her reflection in the now blank computer monitor as you shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? So if I checked right now you wouldn’t be making a mess of yourself? Of course not, you’d never lie to me,” she answers her own question and laughs as if she’s waving the idea off, of course you wouldn’t, and then her fingers are tangled in your hair, harshly tugging you upward and leaning down just the slightest bit, “Would you, baby?”
You let out a whine in response, her other hand is still holding your arm behind your back, keeping you pressed down and making your back arch. The strain on your hair wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t unwelcome either. “Stop it, that hurts,” you huff, avoiding the question, but it just makes Wanda tug harder, clicking her tongue, “that’s not what I asked you.”
Wanda revels in the whimper you give her in response, looking down at you in the reflection of the monitor like you were prey she was waiting to swallow whole. She wishes she had the resolve to properly punish you, to keep you tied up and unable to touch her as she busied herself with household chores, perhaps even running out to get groceries while she has you begging for her not to leave you alone. She almost frowns at that last part, when did she become so terrible that she’d do anything to see your pretty eyes filled with tears?
Instead she takes pity on you, the way your eyes are beginning to gloss over, tears stinging at the edges and threatening to fall from the harsh grip she kept on your hair has her starting to feel dizzy. She just can’t help it, you looked so pretty like this. She lets go of her grip on your arm and you immediately move it to aid your other arm in bracing yourself against the desk, easing the strain on your hair just the slightest bit. She slips a hand beneath your panties and palms your ass.
One of her favorite things was that you never felt obligated to wear pants when it was just the two of you alone, simply opting for a long sweater or shirt with your panties.
Her hand wanders down, pinching the fat of your thigh and laughing when it results in a yelp. “Wanda, just touch me already!” You whine, trying to push back against her. “Patience.” she hums, letting go of your hair and you let your head drop, hair falling down and framing your face. Though she does drag her fingertips over your clothed cunt, cooing when she feels the wet spot on your panties. “Is this why you’re being a brat, hm? Need Mommy to ease the ache between your thighs?” Her tone is teasing, but her fingers rub soft circles against your clit, just enough pressure to pull a soft moan from between your lips.
“So sensitive…” Wanda muses to herself, using her free hand to pull your panties to the side. She'll skip the teasing for now, wants to work you up first, have you drooling all over her fingers before she pulls everything away. She runs her fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and dipping a finger inside of your drooling hole. “Please.” your tone is pleading, wanting nothing more than for her to sink her lithe fingers into your cunt.
It feels like Wanda had been teasing you for hours even though she had only just started touching you, and wasn’t teasing at all. Perhaps thinking about your girlfriend fucking you throughout the entire stream was not your brightest idea, your attempt to tease her had accidentally gotten you all worked up.
You push back against her, trying to get her to sink her finger deeper. “So impatient.” she chuckles, pulling her finger out altogether, resulting in a whine of protest from you, before suddenly sinking her middle and index fingers into your tight heat.
You gasp in response, biting down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans, hands curling into fists as you support yourself on your forearms, having nothing to grab onto. “You really are sensitive, did all that teasing today get you worked up, baby? Did that silly little brain of yours start thinking a little too hard?” If you were in any other position you’re sure you’d bite back with a snarky comment, but you just can’t, not with the way Wanda’s fingers are thrusting into you, curling to hit just the right spot and make you see stars.
Wanda almost rolls her eyes, bringing her free hand up to fist your hair once more, gripping it at the end and looping it around her wrist, tugging harshly near your scalp and bringing you flush against her front, ”I believe I asked you a question, sweetheart.”
You whimper in response, the strain on your hair making tears prick at your eyes, threatening to fall. When your girlfriend prompts your response once more with a slight tug, the tears spill over no matter how hard you try to stop them. “T–Technically, you asked two,” you bite back weakly.
“Brat.” Wanda rolls her eyes, pushing you down and letting her tight grip on your hair fall looser. She feels you clench around her fingers at the harsh treatment and she grins, predator-like, before pulling her fingers out and swiftly landing a slap to your sensitive clit. “Mommy!” you choke on a moan, jolting forward, torn between begging her to hit you again or for her fingers. Your fingernails dig into your palms as your fists tighten around nothing.
“Do you think you can be a good girl for me?” Wanda asks, starting to grope you and leaning down to press a tender kiss to your cheek before using the hand in your hair to properly gather it into her fist, holding it in a makeshift ponytail and finally relieving the strain you were feeling. “Because if you’re not,” she tugs harshly once more, causing you to whimper, “I have no problem giving you a proper punishment.”
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mcu-coworkers · 10 months
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You?
Summary: What you thought was your love story ended up being one cruel summer.
Word Count: 1k+
warnings: None really other than angry Miguel :I
A/n: amidst writing a part 3 for another story I got inspired by doctor strange and gave it a bit of a twist. Hope you guys like it!xx
Parts: One^ Two three Four
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You had never seen Miguel so angry before.
Sure he was always short with everyone and never smiled other than to laugh at someone.
But when he did laugh, even if it was at someone, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat.
There were days when he’d call you into his office and ask you to update him on the spiders and the sectors they were handling and sometimes, if he was in a good enough mood, he’d ask about you.
Despite the mood swings, and his constant frown you wanted nothing more than to stand by his side and be there for all of it.
Peter B. though you were crazy for having feelings towards the coldest spider in the spider society but all things considered, he was probably right.
Only a crazy person would fall head over heels for someone who gave no sign of reciprocating feelings.
You had hope you’d get through one day.
That day definitely was not today.
You’d been caught up on a mission for the past couple of hours so you never responded to any of the comms. When you arrived back at HQ you were horrified by the mess.
You tried to ring Miguel but no luck, then you tried Jess, Ben, Gwen, shit, even Hobbie and still nothing.
Finally you were about to try Peter B. when he popped up behind you.
“You’re not gonna reach them, and honestly,  I   don’t think you want to.” he said as he held a very active May Day in his arms.
“What happened here?” you asked your voice barely above a whisper.
“ I  ‘d tell you but maybe it's better if you just watch.” he said, pulling up all the camera footage.
And holy shit.
Suddenly you felt a lot worse about ignoring those comms from Miguel.
“Shit.” you cursed under your breath.
“Yeah, listen  I   should get going. Miguel will be back soon and  I  ‘m the last person he’ll want to see.” he said, opening a portal.
“Bye Pete, take care of yourself okay?” You said with a soft smile as he slowly disappeared into the portal.
Looking back at the paused footage you didn't know what to think.
You understood Miles, but you also understood Miguel.
But still, seeing the way he handled this and how out of hand he got made chills run down your spine.
You didn’t even want to think what would’ve happened had he gotten through the shield of the go home machine.
Lost in thought you never heard Miguel enter the room.
“Where the hell have you been?” you heard him yell as he walked up to you.
You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of his tone.
“On a mission you know that Miguel” you said trying to not anger him further.
“ I   called you to come back, so where the fuck were you.” he wasnt letting up.
“Miguel  I  got the guy  I  -” you tried but he cut you off.
“When  I   say come back that means come back am  I   fucking clear?” he said, looking down at you.
You’d never felt so intimidated by him before, not even on the first day after being recruited.
“Yes sir.” was all you could manage to say.
Finally he stepped back and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.
“Lyla pull up the records of the go home machine and tell me where it sent him.” He said turning his back to you.
You could hear the distress in his voice so you thought of a way to help.
Walking up to him with caution you put a hand on his shoulder, “Miguel, Maybe you need to take a step  back let someone else handle it.” you suggested.
“Yeah? Who?You? Thats a fucking joke. You could barely handle a stupid villain, you’ll never catch this kid.” he snarled, shrugging your arm off.
Taken back by his statement you felt a heavy weight on your chest.
“Miguel-” you tried but again you were cut off.
“What are you gonna say some inspirational shit? Tell me you're here to help?hm?” he asked, turning back to you.
“Yes, Miguel, I am here for you, always. But this, this is mania. Some things can't be fixed by yourself. ” You said the weight on your chest felt heavier.
When he stayed quiet you took it as a sign to keep going.
“Maybe this is a sign to consider stopping, look at how much of a toll this is taking on you.” you urged the man was grasping for straws at this point if they didn't find Miles he’d be lost.
“This is my life's work, there is no me without the multiverse.” he exclaimed, turning away from you.
“There are so many things that give your life meaning, that could give your life meaning.” you suggested, realizing what that last part sounded like you felt your face heat up.
Shit.
He stopped his pacing and turned to you, “Like what? You?”
Suddenly you felt your world come crashing down. You had nothing left to lose.
“Yeah. Me.” you said barely above a whisper.
“You care so much don’t you? You think  I   want your pity? That  I  need you?”he said aggressively.
“ I   have never pitied you.”you snapped back.
“Good, because  I   don't need it. And  I   don't need you.” and with that he turned back around leaning on his desk.
You had nothing left for him. Or the spider society.
“Goodbye, Miguel.” was all you said before you walked out of the room and opened the portal to go home, for good.
“That was a bit rough for someone you like, don't you think?” Lyla asked, watching Miguel as he looked over to the door you walked out of.
He decided to focus on one thing at a time, Miles now you later.
He knew you’d come back and when you did, he’d fix it.
If there was something he could fix in this fucked up world it was the mistakes he made with you.
“The files Lyla.” he said changing the subject.
Sighing, Lyla gave him what he wanted and left.
She didn't have the heart to tell him that you left your watch and your suit at HQ.
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misstranci · 3 months
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Happy to Obey 🥰
This file is designed to instill the listener with happy and positive emotions. It should also improve a subject's ability to go deeper into trance. There aren't really any specific content warnings here, other than do not listen while driving or doing anything that requires your attention. As always, headphones are required, otherwise you won't hear the binaural tones.
The contents are very wholesome and I wouldn't consider this a dangerous file at all. Initial tests indicate it may be habit forming, but only time will tell. It will install some triggers that associate feeling happy with obedience. It is perfectly safe and definitely won't make you happy to obey Me. (okay, maybe just a little) 😇
[Download MP3]
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the-oblivious-writer · 7 months
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After The Storm |1|
Tara Carpenter x Spider-Women!Reader
Chapter One: Mutant Lizards & Kisses
(idk how many chapters I'll do for this series but I'm just winging it for now)
Summary: After your fight with The Lizard, you climb back with quite a few injuries. Luckily, Tara's there to tend to them
Warning(s): Swearing, Police!Sam 🤭, mentions of fighting & injuries
Notes: Based off of this scene in TASM (gotta be one of my favorite scenes). Wrote this while taking a break from writing chp 6 of LTLI. Motivation for this kinda just came to me and I've always wanted to do a spider!reader thing
Masterlist|Next Part
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You limped, nearly collapsing on the roof as you held your side.Your trap for Dr. Connors did not work out how you planned, and your recklessness to get more photos than you needed ended you up with none.
You painfully crawled down, making your way to the fire escape outside the window you recognized. You knocked on it three times with your head, ignoring your pounding headache. You kept your head resting on the window as you heard clicking from the other side. Tara looked over to you and smiled before saying, “Come in,” then turning back to the assignment she was working on.
You push the window up, sliding through the opening as you exhale tiredly. 
“You should maybe, uh, consider coming in through the main entrance,” Tara jokes and you huff a laugh. 
You struggle to lift yourself until finally hopping into her room
“Also, my sister is under the impression that you require psychiatric attention….” Tara finally turns to you when she hears you grunt and her eyes slightly widen.
“Y/N.” She stood up from her chair and rushed over to you. You’re now leaning against the wall, when Tara comes up to you. 
“What the hell happened?” She asked quickly.
“You should see the other guy,” you say in a husky voice; you can still see Tara fretting over your injuries.
She carefully walks you to her bed, gently laying you down, not wanting to cause you any further pain. You tilt your head back as you continue to speak through deep breaths, “the other guy, in this instance being a giant mutant lizard.”
“You’re all bruised up–”
“Tara, I’m fi–”
“You’re not fine,” Tara interrupted in a sharp tone.
“Tara–”
You both stopped your movement when you heard Sam’s voice from the other side of the door.
“Hey, Tara, I have to run to the station. Do you want me to pick up some ice cream from that place you like, on the way back?” You and Tara shared a look before she got up and you rolled to the floor. 
Tara opened the door just a few inches to greet her older sister. “No, Sam. I do not want ice cream. I can’t afford any distractions right now. I have a bunch of exams to prepare for,” Tara said, trying to fake an aggravated tone.
“Okay, I just remember somebody saying last week that her fantasy was to live in an ice cream house,” Sam reminded Tara. 
“Well that's impractical,” she said, shutting the door. “And fattening,” she added after opening the door, now shutting it again.
She turned around to see you peeking from behind the bed, giving her a dopey smile. “An ice cream house?” You questioned, still wearing the same expression.
Tara rolled her eyes, nodding, still not saying a word before turning back around to open the door once again. 
“Sorry…” Tara apologized to Sam. 
“It’s really good ice cream.”
“It’s just I can’t, um, I'm doing this um—paper and I’m really focused on it. Didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“It’s okay, I get it. How about I bring you a some for later?” 
“Okay, sounds good. Thanks Sammy,” Tara said with a smile before shutting the door one more time.
As soon as she walked back in the room, she gave you no room to talk. Already giving you directions to follow as she got her medkit from her nightstand’s bottom drawer. 
“Roll down your suit.”
You sigh but comply. “I’m fine, just a little banged up. I almost got him though—Dr. Connors. I can feel it, Tar. I’m gonna get him next time.”
“I swear, Y/N, if you get yourself killed I will make sure you regret it,” the younger Carpenter threatened.
“Why? Gonna miss me?” You teased, looking at the other girl as her attention was on the rubbing alcohol she was preparing. 
“In your dreams, Y/L/N,” Tara replied, but you saw the tiny smile she gave you before looking back at what she was doing. 
“Ah…” You softly groaned, feeling the sting as the rubbing alcohol made contact with your open wound.
Tara gave you an apologetic look, “It’ll be done soon.” 
“And when that's done?”
“What do you mean?” Tara asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.
“After this, how about we do something?”
She lightly shook her head with a smile before replying. “And Sam comes home to an empty apartment? Yeah, no.”
“I’ll get you home in time before Sam is,” you reassure her. 
“You’re forgetting Sam’s a police captain,” Tara’s body betrays her as she melts into your touch, feeling your hand gently sneak up her arm.
“Unless she can track my web-shooters, I think we’re good.”
 “I don’t know…” she looks down, averting her attention to one of your other cuts she’s tending too.
You left hand lifts her head, her chin resting on your knuckles.
“Come on…” 
Your foreheads meet and the towel in her hand is long forgotten. You brush your thumb against her bottom lip, you both slightly lean in until your lips are only centimeters apart. 
“Easy bug girl…” You heard her whisper.
“What’d you just call me?” You asked as you both lightly laugh, faces never pulling from each other. 
“Let's get out of here,” you said as you comedically shook your head around, causing Tara to giggle. “Just for a minute, come on.”
Your noses rubbed together as Tara leaned into you. 
“No..”
“Yeah..”
“Noo..”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Noooo…” She hated how much she wanted to say yes to you.
“Yesss,” your smile never falters through this yes and no battle. You looked at how Tara looked away for a moment before looking back at you with a smile she was visibly fighting and in that moment you knew you won.
“...I better be home before Sam is.” 
When you land back on Tara’s fire escape, she’s clinging onto you for dear life while her face's buried in your chest. You smile down at her as you tell her, “We’re back by the way,” resisting the urge to place a kiss on her head.
“Yeah—yeah I knew that,” she replied, slowly pulling away from you.
You can’t help but chuckle at her shooken state. “Oh, you think this is funny? We were so high up—a drop that high is deadly, Y/N.”
“You think I’d drop ya?” 
“No, cause’ then Sam would bury you alive.”
“Speaking of Sam,” you’re both fully in the room now as you look at her bedroom door and then back at Tara, “Looks like she’s not here…”
“Y/N…”
“Tara…”
“I already let you swing me around while a billion feet in the air; you’re still needy for my attention?” She teased, slightly tilting her head.
“What, you don’t wanna hang out with me?” You teased back.
You’re now directly in front of her, Tara’s legs hit the back of the bed and you can feel her breath on yours. Your hands end up on her hips and her left hand lightly cups your jaw.
In a husky voice you begin, “Tara, you have no idea–" 
Suddenly the front door can be heard opening, the various locks twisting and turning. You and Tara looked at each other before Tara shoved you under the bed. Footsteps came closer and closer until Sam opened the door to find her sister sitting at her desk, headphones in, and pen in hand.
Tara turned to look at the door, pulling out her headphones when she made eye contact with Sam. “Oh, hey Sam. I was just finishing up this paper,” Tara said innocently, giving the paper a single tap with her pen.
Sam slightly nodded, looking around—Tara noticed this. “Did you need something?” Tara asked the older Carpenter.
“Uh, no—no, I just thought I heard something. Anyways,” Sam slightly shook her head, “got you that ice cream. It’s in the freezer when you want it.”
“Thanks, Sam. Love you,” Tara responded. “Love you too,” Sam said back with a smile before leaving the room but not without taking one more scan of the room.
You waited another minute before crawling out from under her bed. 
“That was a close one, bug girl.”
“Is that gonna be a permanent nickname?”
“You bet it is, bug girl."
You playfully rolled your eyes, a smile grazing your face when you see her dimples show. "You're lucky you're cute," you tell her.
"Oh? Would you rather me call you my savior?" Tara jokingly batted her eyelashes at you.
You bit lip in thought. "It's got a ring to it..."
"Yeah, no. 'Think I'm sticking with bug girl for now."
"Worth a shot," you shrugged before walking over to her,"Now...where were we?"
"You were leaving–"
"Mmm, no. That' not what I recall."
Before Tara could respond, you began placing kisses that travled to her jaw then neck, making her knees grow weak as you slowly lead her to the bed until her back softly hit the mattress.
You hovered above her while she gratefully accepted your touch, holding onto your biceps while you continued to kiss her.
"Y/N, my sister's right outside. And if you've forgotten; she has a warrant out for your 'wall crawling vigilante ass'—her words, not mine," Tara said, breath hitching as you continued to kiss her neck.
You stopped mid kiss, looking around the room then slightly frowned, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked back at her. "Is she here in the room with us...? Cause I don't see her."
"Y/N..."
"Tara..."
Tara let out a light sigh, raising one of her hands to cup your jaw. "Five. Minutes." She told you, holding your jaw with a gentle yet firm grip.
"Yes ma'am."
-----------
A/N: R because she didn't pack extra web fluid like Tara told her to:
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amasterpieceofmadness · 3 months
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there for you – bucky b.
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pairings Bucky Barnes x reader
summary You are feeling down lately and Bucky seems to catch up on that. He is worried about you and tries to comfort you. As you find out, all you needed was a big hug (and some kisses) from Bucky
wordcount 2.2k
warnings fluff, little bit of anxiety, crying, hugs and kisses, confessions
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You sigh, trying to shut the annoying high-pitched tone of your alarm clock out by burying your face into the pillow. It feels like you just fell asleep a couple of minutes ago, and in reality, it wasn’t much more, as you already need to get up again. A sigh leaves your mouth once again as you turn around and finally switch off the alarm clock. You are really considering if you should get up but you know Cap is going to hold you a lecture if you miss training one more time. So, finally you get up from your comfy bed and start to get ready with as less effort as needed.
As you walk towards the kitchen to get your cup of coffee before training you zone out. You’ve been distant lately, constantly thinking about stuff that’s worrying you and plaguing your mind. There’s no way to shut it off though, you tried a couple of times already.
So, you walk into the kitchen and greet everyone there with a simple “morning”, before pouring yourself a cup of hot coffee. You don’t bother to talk with someone, you don’t even have the energy to do that right now.
“Everything okay?” your friend Natasha walks up to you concerned.
You simply nod, taking a large sip of coffee. “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well”
Nat doesn’t ask further but she doesn’t believe you either. Neither does the rest of the Avengers, or Bucky. He sits at the table, drinking his own coffee and watching you silently, concern on his face. He noticed your change in behavior and his worry for you is growing stronger by day. He doesn’t want to talk to you in front of all the others so he just lets it be for now.
Steve enters the room “Good morning, ready for our training session?” His eyes land on you and he smiles softly. “Hey, good to see you here again. Let’s get it on!”
Everyone nods and together you walk off to the training room, preparing for an upcoming mission. You try your best to stay focused, and it works rather well. Bucky keeps a close look at you but also keeps his distance. You catch him staring a few times, but try to ignore it, even though your cheeks turn slightly red.
As soon as the training is finished the thoughts come back flooding to your mind. You walk back to your room to get a shower, trying to free your mind. Suddenly you hear a knock at your door. You walk over and open it, setting on a small fake smile.
“Hey” Bucky flashes you a soft smile, leaning against your door frame. He looks you up from top to bottom, noticing your comfy clothes and still wet hair. “Did I disturb you?”
“No, don’t worry. How can I help you?” You ask as casual as possible, crossing your arms in front of your body.
Bucky takes a deep breath, his hands in his pockets. “I just… Actually, I… I just wanted to check in on you. You alright?”
To say you are surprised is an understatement. You never expected him to ask such a question but somehow you feel a strange warmth inside of you at his care. “Uhm, yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Why do you ask?” You let out a soft chuckle.
The super soldier shrugs a little and scratches his head. “You just seem a bit distant lately. So I thought maybe… maybe something is off” He looks so cute like this, standing in front of your door. This is a side of Bucky not many get to see.
“Oh, don’t worry. I just… I didn’t sleep well for a couple of days. But everything’s fine” You smile softly at him to reassure him.
Bucky thinks about your answer for a couple of minutes, not sure whether he should believe you or not. Finally, he decides that there’s no need to push you so he lets it down and nods, looking down. “Alright” he sighs and looks back up at you. “Alright. Just… You know, I’m here if you need anything. Okay?”
As you look at him you can’t help but crack a small, sincere smile. This is definitely something you never expected from anyone, nor him. You can feel warmth spreading inside you and you are almost tempted to ask for a hug. But you quickly shake that thought off of your head. “Thanks, Bucky”
With another smile and wave of his hand Bucky leaves you to yourself again and you close the door of your room. But the smile quickly fades as the thoughts come back to you mind, drowning you. With a sigh you let yourself onto the bed.
A couple of days like this pass and Bucky gets more worried about you. One evening he catches you in the compound living room. He walks inside and notices you standing by the window all in the dark. Bucky doesn’t even bother to turn on the lights.
“Hey” he greets with a calm and soft voice.
You jump slightly, deep in thought, as you turn around surprised to see Bucky standing there, leaning against a counter. “Hey”
“It’s late” Bucky states simply, glancing at the clock and then back at you. It’s almost midnight.
“Yeah, true” my response is just as simple. “What are you doing up?”
Bucky shrugs and gives you a small smirk. “Always been a night owl”
You give him a slight smile in return and glance back out the window, taking a deep breath.
After a few minutes of silence Bucky is the first one to speak up again. “What’s on your mind?”
With raised eyebrows you look at him, but as soon as you see his concerned and serious expression you know there is no way to lie to him. You sigh before finally responding “A lot”
Bucky nods understandingly. If anyone can understand what it’s like to have a heavy mind it’s him after all. And he understands that you might not want to talk about it, or, that you probably don’t even know what you should talk about. So, he doesn’t put too much pressure on you there. “I meant what I said”
Once again you give him a confused look, not knowing what he means right now.
Bucky seems to notice your uncertainty and explains himself further. “What I told you a couple of days ago in your room. That I’m here for your” His look is serious, leaving no hint of joke. He really means it.
And as much as you appreciate this act and as much as you want to thank him and give him a smile, you can’t. All you are trying is to not break in front of him, to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall down your cheeks. You don’t answer him, instead you just look down onto the floor, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t dare to look at him, knowing that it might be too much.
He just stands there, watching your reaction. Bucky decides on what to do and finally speaks up again, his voice ever so soft and caring. “Come here”
You look up to meet Bucky’s eyes, his arms wide open for you to fall into them and let him hug you. For a second you don’t know what you should do. But your feet are bringing you closer to him and finally you stand right in front of him. Slowly you let your arms sink and his loving look is just making it worse for you to contain yourself.
After a minute of just looking at each other you find yourself in his embrace. His arms are tightly wrapped around you, holding you close. Your head resting against his bulky chest, your own arms wrapped around his middle. Tears fall down your cheeks silently, wetting his shirt. But Bucky doesn’t care. All he cares for right now is you in his arms. He doesn’t care whether is shirt is getting damp or not, or if he feels slightly uncomfortable being so close to someone. He wants to be there for you, to give you comfort and reassurance. He wants you to feel better, to know that someone is there for you when you are feeling down. And that is exactly what he is doing right now.
Bucky’s hands are softly stroking your back up and down, his chin resting on your head. He can smell your sweet scent and one of his hands finds its way up to your hair, pressing you closer to him. A strange warmth fills him as he holds you like this.
You on the other hand feel yourself calming down after some time. You feel safe and secure and it seems that a hug is all you needed for the last couple of days. Your body starts to relax in his embrace and your tears have almost stopped. But is it really just the hug that makes you feel at ease again, or is it the person who gives you that hug? His strong arms wrapped tightly around you, holding and caressing you, his soft breathing calming and hearing his heartbeat giving you reassurance.
Bucky had closed his eyes by now, just feeling you in his arms, feeling your muscles starting to relax. And it makes him happy that he is the reason why you calmed down a little. He is proud of himself that he could help you and he is not planning on letting you go anytime soon. He wants to stay like this forever, starting to feel comfortable in this position. He should have done this a lot earlier, when he visited you in your room for example. It would have made you and him feel better.
You two stand there for a while, holding each other close. You pull away slightly, not sure when to let go or if Bucky is still comfortable holding you. Your arms are still around him as you look up at Bucky’s face. He looks down at you too and gives you a soft smile. One of his hands come up to your cheek and his thump wipes the last few tears away from your skin. “Feeling a bit better?”
Finally you give him a small smile back and nod. “A little… Thank you”
Bucky’s smile grows. He can’t help but think about how cute you look right now. “For you, always” How long can he deny the feelings he has for you? How long is he going to pretend that there is nothing between you two?
Your mind is spinning as well, your troubles forgotten for now. All you can think of right now is Bucky. The two of you stand there in the dark living room, holding each other, looking into each other’s eyes without saying a word. The moment is intimate and your heart starts to beat slightly faster.
Bucky is going to take the risk and leans slightly closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours to watch your reaction closely. As you don’t seem to mind him coming closer, he leans in even more, your faces only inches apart. You can feel his hot breath on your face and before you can think twice his lips meet yours. It’s surprisingly soft and sweet, something you would never think of a man like him. But His lips are tender and his movements gentle as if to not scare you away. He pulls away after a moment, his face still close to yours, as he looks at you intensely.
Your lips are slightly parted, your whole body frozen for a moment. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your breath caught in your throat. For a second Bucky is afraid he might have overstepped a line, but when he sees you smiling softly at him he returns it immediately. He leans closer again, wanting to kiss you again but not sure if he should. It’s your turn to close the gap between you and press your lips against his, kissing him with a bit more force than before.
Bucky’s hold on you tightens slightly as he leans into the kiss, trying to take in every second.
When you part again he leans his forehead against yours. The act is so small yet so sweet and you smile up at him. “Wow” is all he can say.
A soft chuckle leaves your lips before you respond “wow indeed”
He returns your chuckle. “I wanted to do that for a long time now”
At his words your heart is starting to beat faster once again, your hands wrapping tighter around him. “Me too” Your voice is barely a whisper but it’s loud enough for him to here.
“And I’ll always be there for you, okay? No matter what…” His words carry a seriousness you’ve never heard before. He means it and you can feel just how much he cares for you. But before you respond Bucky continues “I love you”
“I love you too”
And with that Bucky pecks your lips once again before wrapping you in a tight hug, not planning on letting you go ever again. Not that you mind, of course. You could stay forever in his arms, in this moment.
A/N Here is my complete masterlist with all the ff, imagines, oneshots, smut and whatever. Check it out and leave a like :)
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fake-bleach · 3 months
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million dollar man | derek danforth x reader
summary: Derek Danforth takes great pleasure in paying for your company and your company only. He’s also a grade A asshole, who doesn't know how to take no for an answer. You come to him on a strict schedule, and, usually, he respects your life aside from him. But, for some reason, you can’t ever seem to get a hold of an evening with your friends without his intrusions. Corrupted with need, Derek persuades you to come to him with an offer of something.. more. Something that he knows will get your attention. What happens when the night ends in a way you wouldn't possibly expect?
word count: 3k
warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), slight spoilers for "the beekeeper", reader's a broke college student, substance use (reader & derek smoke a joint and get high), (that's the "more" in the summary if that matters to anyone btw), use of pet names (baby, babe), derek's an asshole and a bit toxic (as expected), maybe ooc derek but? in a way, reader makes derek want to be better, a bittt of angst but it's worth it i promise, kissing, yeaa i think that's it, part 2 will have smut ofc!, this is kinda all over the place but i hope it makes sense lmfaoo
authors note: hi! i've been so so occupied w/ college, so i apologize sincerely for my sudden, longgg hiatus :') i miss writing all of the time </3 but, i saw the beekeeper on saturday and felt the need to write again! i've been super into jhutch for the past few months, so i hope you guys enjoy this one <3 part two should be coming asap :) so, consider this my brief comeback? but not really? i'm unpredictable
ao3 link | masterlist
read part 2 here!
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Being one of the girls Derek Danforth keeps around, you’re bound to deal with some of the bullshit that comes along with it.
But unbeknownst to you, he likes you a little more than he'd like to admit.
He hasn't seen any of the others in weeks now, his mind only occupied with his thoughts of you and when you're not around. And when you're actually with him, paying for the pleasures of your company, he can't help but want more from you when he knows that's beyond your limits.
It's simple, really.
He's a lonely man, and he knows that; knows that his personality is hard to swallow and tolerate. Knows it's pathetic that all he can do is pay for people to actually stick around.
But, there's only so much a lonely man can take.
So, that's when he starts seeing you, exclusively, ‘cause to be fair? You’re the only one who’s bothered to stay by his side for this long.
The only one who’s ever made him feel.. something.
It’s been a few months now since you started seeing Derek. The first few visits from you immediately captured his attention; your disposition being unlike any he's ever encountered before.
Being surrounded by other like-minded people such as himself, it's safe to say that it's all he's ever known. The rich and prosperous life that everyone else around him has. The ability to get anything he wants in a blink of an eye, regardless of what it was, extravagant or not.
You on the other hand? It wasn't so easy.
Maybe it was because you were so hard to get. Maybe it was because he liked the challenge.
He didn't know why he was so captivated by you. But, what he did know was the fact that he needed to.
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"Hey, I know we said next week, but I need you here now."
Derek had called you, urgently as it seemed while you were out. Despite the heads up you gave him about your upcoming plans the last time you saw each other, he didn't care, and that was something you were already preparing for.
"Derek, I told you: I can't do today. We agreed that it was fine." You spoke directly into the phone, walking away from your friends at the club you were at to a quieter area; away from the deafening music that shook every inch of the perimeter.
"Are you at a club right now?"
You sighed exasperatedly, the irritation in your tone evident as you reached an empty corridor near the bathroom, body leaning against the wall. "Yes, Derek, did I have to specify my plans to you as well?"
He let out a small laugh that made you stiffen, throat tightening.
"What's with the attitude, baby? It was a harmless fuckin' question."
You were used to this with him; the casual swearing, the way he spoke to you. It was nothing new, and everything you had already adapted to.
But, God, did it annoy the fuck out of you sometimes.
"No attitude. Just wondering why the hell you need me on my day off. I'm having some fun here, is that a problem?"
"Without me? 'Course it is," He exclaimed, his voice giving off his arrogance, "Why have fun there when you could be doin' that with me here?"
You swallowed sharply and licked your bottom lip, looking up and around you as you shook your head, hesitant on his inquiry. "I don't know, Derek.. I, I'm with my friends. Promised I'd be here tonight.." You paused, "They think I 'see you too much' already, y'know?"
"Fuck what your friends think. Come on, come see me, baby. I'll make it worth your while."
He was desperate, you could tell that much.
You rolled your eyes at that, your declaration already evoking his direct persuasions. "And how would you do that, Mr. Danforth?" You teased, "You know I don't play that shit with you."
He sighed into the phone, "Got something better then. You wanna relax, clear your head a bit? Fuck, I got it all for you," He implied what you thought he did, a slight weak spot that you didn't mind partaking in once in awhile.
He knew you were stressed with college, hence why you took this job in the first place; to ease the expenses you had to deal with. He also knew what you liked.
Still, who were you if one measly opportunity to get high bought you out?
"..And?" The word trailed off your tongue, drawing it out.
"I'll pay double tonight."
Too easy. "Fine."
You straightened yourself out, preparing to make up some lousy excuse to your friends of your departure. One that you knew they'd easily figure out.
"Text me the address."
Done. You heard the ding from the speaker of his phone alert him.
"Sending a car your way. Be out in 15."
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You were intrigued by Derek.
Despite how much of an asshole he was, despite the privileged life that he's been able to live; the complete opposite of what you had been given.. you were intrigued by him.
The way he ticked, the way he carried himself.
The way everyone knew so much but so little about the President's son.
You almost felt special that his desires laid with you.
The roads that grew mundane to you towards Derek's estate made your heart race, the familiarity of it all still feeling so unbelievable to fathom.
You weren't like him; you were nothing like him. So, how in the hell did you get in this position?
The abrupt stop of the car you were in snapped you out of your head, and one of the workers Derek had around opened the door for you.
"Welcome back. Mr. Danforth has been waiting for you."
You smiled at the man and nodded, thanking him gracefully as you were led into the absurdly large residence you were still foreign to.
Before you could latch your eyes onto the man expecting you, his voice introduced himself into the room first, capturing your gaze.
"There's my girl. About time." Derek spoke loudly, and proudly at that, rushing towards you eagerly. He wore a blue suit with a cheetah print button up just underneath it, and you couldn't help but admit how nice it looked on him. His outfits could be outrageous at times, but it just worked with him.
You laughed at his remark. "I saw you two days ago, Derek."
He shook his head, grinning as he pressed a small kiss to your cheek. An affectionate gesture that you agreed to in your early days with him. "Two days, too long."
You rolled your eyes and gave him a small side hug, feeling a bit more eased at his calm demeanor. It seemed like he was completely different from the Derek you spoke to on the phone. Maybe he really did just need to see you.
But you? You had no idea why he chose you.
"Well, I'm here now.. What are you gonna do with me?" You tantalized, wanting to fuck with him as much as you could. The rules you set for yourself kept him in check, but you couldn't deny how fun it was to see him squirm.
You were confident, and you knew it. You knew he wanted you. But, you knew your worth, too. You weren't going to be so easy.
At least, not unless it was on your own circumstances.
He took a deep breath and put his hand on your lower back, beginning to lead you towards the abundant living room that he had all to himself. Matter of fact, he had the entire place to himself.
He glanced at your face as you took your steps, explaining himself clearly, "Just what you agreed to, baby. Got what you want right here." He took his hand off of you, walking towards the elegant box on the sofa table that he quickly opened up.
Pulling out something small, he lifted it up to you, revealing the perfectly rolled up joint that put a slight smirk on your face.
Well, here we fucking go.
"You're staying true to your word, Danforth. Just what I like to see," You commented, walking up to him, "Well, don't keep me waiting."
He shook his head and scoffed lightly, "Get comfortable, then."
He sat on the couch and patted next to him, and you followed right along, the lighter suddenly in his hand igniting to present the orange flame that flickered in your eyes.
He placed the joint in between his lips, lighter hovering above the end of it as it makes that familiar sound, papered edges burning crisp. He takes a drag of it, shutting his eyes as he lets the smoke fill his mouth before inhaling it into his lungs. A familiar warmth already seeping into the environment around you.
Without a second to waste, he urges you to come closer, muttering out a, "C'mere baby," before he places the tip of the joint in between your lips for you.
You quickly take the chance to take a drag yourself, repeating his every move as you shut your eyes blissfully, the herbal scent of it filling your nose from Derek's own smoke escaping his mouth.
"Yeah," He draws out, "There you go," He mutters as he watches you intently, taking in your hazy state as you evidently begin to relax. "Feels good?"
You swallow as you flutter your eyes back open to him, slight butterflies spreading to your stomach.
..That was the weed. Not him. Definitely not him.
You just nodded as he pulled it away from you, sleekly mustering out, "Great. Feeling better already."
He smirked at you and cocked his head, "Already? We're just gettin' started, babe."
You huffed and leaned back against the couch, getting yourself more comfortable as you shook your head, "Alright, Mr. Professional over here. I don't smoke as much as you, you know that." You sighed.
"I know, I know, m' just fucking with you. Besides, you got me here now, anyways," He teased, scooting a bit closer to you, "C'mon, open up." He urged you, taking another drag coolly, eyes stuck on you.
You quickly listened, lips parting to open wide, expecting the sudden smoke that filled the air to hit you. He blew it out in your face, making you giggle from the feeling as your lungs took it in.
He licked his lips as his gaze lingered on yours, lips slowly closing shut as your body increasingly felt lighter, the substance overwhelming your foggy brain.
The more the seconds passed, the more his eyes darkened, consuming you completely.
A part of you couldn’t help but like it.
There was something so sensual about it. You knew that; there was no denying it. And maybe it was the weed too, but fuck, did it feel good with him right now.
Right now, Derek Danforth was not the condescending asshole that you occasionally dreaded being around.
Right now, Derek Danforth was slowly becoming the one thing that you craved the most.
Fuck, it really was the weed.
"Give me that." You distracted yourself from your heavy thoughts, reaching for the joint in between his fingers. He handed it to you and leaned back against the couch himself, body angled to face you entirely.
He couldn't take his eyes off of you, and now, it was you who was bound to squirm.
You avoided his gaze, taking one last drag before giving it back to him eagerly. There was only so much you could take, and normally you'd want more, but you couldn't help but fear the possibility of any more of it multiplying these thoughts of him.
The feelings that you continuously needed to deny.
Your eyes locked onto the center table just in front of you, suddenly feeling incredibly curious about the intricately built legs that screamed wealth.
Now, he obviously wasn't as high as you, because the next thing that leaves his mouth sounds a bit too coherent for him to be.
"Don't know how you went this long without me."
Your head snapped to him at that, stomach suddenly tightening with confusion at his words. A direct, accusative statement you couldn't have possibly expected to hear from him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Just.. with college, with this, with experiences like this.. You need me. Obviously." He exclaimed confidently, as if you should’ve known that already.
There he was. The asshole.
You sharply inhaled, scoffing as you shook your head, staring down at your lap. Your hazy mind can't even help you form words, except for the one phrase that doesn’t do your defense any justice.
"I don't.. I don't need you." The tone of it is light, gentle as it rolls off your tongue, and you hate that you're not in the right headspace for this right now.
He laughs at that. The same laugh that always makes you stiffen, freezing in your place.
"You don't.. you don't need me?" He mocks you as he takes another drag from the joint, putting it out on the ashtray in front of him, "Everybody needs someone, baby.. You shouldn't try so hard to deny that." He taunts you, and you know that it's what he wants from you.
For you to lash out. For you to show him any ounce of vulnerability that you've managed to keep composed since this relationship began.
"Especially not from someone who treats you so.. Right." He whispers out, almost grimly as he leans in closer to you, face merely inches away.
You slowly turn your head now, facing him as you shut your eyes gauzily, mind still lost in your mix of emotions. You hate him; you want to hate him so badly, but you can't.
Some fucked up part of you can't let yourself.
But, that doesn't stop you from putting up a fight.
"You treat me.. right? Is that what you think?" You begin, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to hold yourself back, "You're an asshole, who treats everyone like shit, Derek."
He laughs, a cruel noise escaping his lips; an unexpected action that urges you on, pushing you further.
"You.. You completely disregard my feelings, my, my plans, everything in my life that doesn't have anything to do with you, you're unbearable, you—"
He cuts you off then, inching closer to you as he grins at that, "Then why the fuck do you stick around? If I'm so fucking unbearable, baby, why do you bother with me?"
"Because maybe.. there's some part of me that hopes you'll stop being such a piece of shit, Derek!" You explode now, aggravated and pushed to your limits. Pushed to show you care for him in some way.
Was this his plan all along?
You don’t know, but you let out one final remark, unable to control yourself now that you've already begun, "But, I don't fucking need you. You need me." You spit out, your seething glare locked on him.
"I need you?" He spews out, almost as if it's too unbelievable to even hear.
"Yeah, you need me."
"I need you?" He repeats bitterly.
You swallow, blatantly whispering, "You need me, Derek."
He continuously denies you, his composure slowly leaving him the more you open your mouth. 
“I don’t need you. I don’t fucking need anyone.” He’s quick to say defensively as he turns away from you, refusing to allow you to get to him.
But, you know it now. You’re getting under his skin.
You press further, head closing in near his to make sure he hears your words loud & clear.
“You randomly pulled me out of my plans tonight and brought me here, Derek. What fucking for? I know you didn’t just need my fucking company. Not after you persuaded me to come. I know you better than that now.”
He shakes his head, rapid and tense, unknowingly egging you on.
“Why do you care about what the fuck I do? Who I see? Hell, even my fucking life! I thought this was all just business to you. What happened to that?”
He pauses then, processing it all. Something he's never been compelled to do before.
“..What happened to that, Derek?” You push, tone composed & steady now.
Before you can continue your little speech, before you can push him any further, he crumbles instantly; voice direct and harsh as he finally reviles into your exertions.
"I don’t—I don’t fucking know, okay! Yeah, maybe you're fucking right. Maybe that's why I always want you around. Maybe that's why you're the only fucking person that I ever want to be around. I—I just—"
“You just what?” You need to hear it, desperation seething through your voice.
He bursts out now, head turning to face you as he spits out his confession. “I can’t fucking think of anything else but you. I can’t be around anyone else without wishing it was fucking you.”
There it fucking is. But, he’s not done.
“You drive me fucking crazy, baby,” He laughs at himself, pathetic with his vulnerable words that no one else has ever gotten to hear, “And I don’t know what the fuck to do ‘cause I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but fuck, maybe I.. I do fucking need you, I don’t fucking—”
You can’t control the next thing you do.
Well, maybe you can, but you really don’t fucking want to.
It's your turn to cut him off now, after the countless times he’s done it to you; by placing your lips on his, eager and desperate as your hands slip from your lap to cup his face and pull him in close, chasing the high of his lips on yours.
He shuts his eyes as you do the same, swallowing sharply once you break it apart, eyes set on him as you await his response.
His wide eyes lock onto yours now, and he whispers out your name, shocked and unsteady, and almost in an attempt to stop you.
"God, just shut up for once." You interrupt him, pushing your lips back onto his before he can protest any further. He moans into your mouth, hands moving to grip your hips eagerly, his body closing in on you completely.
Let's just say, you don't feel so high anymore. You’re no longer confused.
You're more sure of this than anything in your fucking life.
-
part two should be coming this week! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
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mrsriddlenott · 6 months
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~ Caught VI ~
Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader
[masterlist][last part]
This is gonna be Christmas centered(gift giving and such)even though it’s almost Halloween😭🤷‍♀️thought it was cute.
I’m sorry if this is a bit long, I’m tryna get in some real plot with this chapter🤞🥰
Warnings: A Lil Angst(in the beginning), VeryFluffy,SweetSmut,Unprotected PinV, DaddyKink. Sex Toys Mentioned&Alludes to Bondage(future pt😉)
“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Mattheo asked in a hushed whisper as you pushed the heavy door of your manor’s library shut behind you both.
“I’m the only one who ever comes in here, they won’t even hear us talking all the way in the back.” You sighed out, the ball had just ended and your father had unsurprisingly pulled your mother into his study, likely to “brief” her on his plans.
“I know I should have told you ages ago and it was wrong of me to keep it from you….and all of our friends. But I just couldn’t, I couldn’t even form the words to tell you he was a Death Eater, let alone what he’s been planning since….he went into hiding.” Mattheo listened to your hushed words intently, wincing slightly at your mention of his father as you led him to a small leather loveseat in the far back corner of the large, dusty library.
“I knew I’d tell you eventually….I guess I just got so caught up in everything else that I never decided to try. Or maybe I was just too scared you’d never talk to me again. Honestly I don’t know.” You shook your head as you sat on the cold leather, Mattheo remained hovering, standing in front of you as you avoided his eyes.
“I had a half-brother, Will. He died before I was born in the First Wizarding War. My dad tried to run with his first wife, so his wife and son were killed. He married my mom for the money that marrying into my grandfather’s family promised, and then had me to make sure he got the inheritance.” You didn’t notice when you started crying or when Mattheo joined you on the seat to comfort you. The story was clear in your mind as though it happened to you, you grew up under your fathers hatred, and knew every small detail of his obsession.
Your father was one of very few people who knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Dark Lord did not die on Halloween of ‘81, and when he inevitably came back to power almost 3 years ago, it all was meant to fall into action. Your father played the dutiful follower as he weaseled his way into his inner circle. Your mother was to play the innocent housewife as she absorbed all information from the wives and husbands of the other Death Eaters. And you….you were to get their children to tell you anything they knew of their parents assignments. However, you threw a wrench in that plan before it even began, you’d never hurt your friends, and once you started dating Mattheo it was solidified.
And your father hated you for it.
It only took one year at Hogwarts for your love of your friends to overpower your love for your father. You fed him lies and misinformation or avoided home all together, but somehow could never come out and tell your friends why you introduced yourself to them in the first place. By the time you realized you should have, they were your new family, you couldn’t imagine them turning around and hating you just because of this mistake. So whether consciously or not you weren’t sure, but you hid it, for almost 6 years, you hid it. Even as your father approached his goal, even knowing all of their families would be caught in the crossfire when he succeeded.
“You don’t need to tell me it all tonight,” Mattheo whispered in a small voice nothing like his usual cocky tone. Your bloodshot eyes met his in a pleading look as you tried to speak.
“No I do, I….I should have told you years ago, I should have told all of you years ago.” Mattheo was a smart person, he’d already guessed what your role in this was, and considering him and his father were still very much alive, he also guessed you didn’t quite play the role you were given correctly. Despite the pit in his stomach about what he’s going to have to do to protect you, he was soaring over your loyalty. The fact that you were here in front of him, and not in your fathers study, had his heart hammering in his chest. If he hadn’t already planned to marry you, he certainly would have decided to right here.
“No Gorgeous, you really don’t….I think….I think I already know.” He sighed with a soft smile as he took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning you to look at him with your bloodshot, teary eyes. Mattheo delicately brought the thumb of his other hand to wipe your tears away, like you were a piece of art he was preserving. His lips followed suit, pampering light kisses down both your cheeks as he whisperered, “It’s okay y/n, I know and I’m still here, I’m always going to be here.”
Your body practically fell into him as you collapsed into sobs of gratitude and relief. Mattheo’s arms wrapped around you as though it was what they were made to do, pulling you into his lap as he settled into the loveseat further. He let you sob into his neck, brushing tangles from your hair with his fingers and speaking softly of your future together in your ear until you were silently breathing deeply and lightly snoring into him.
“You’re safe Baby, you’ll never have to come back here I promise you that.” Mattheo listened to your breathing deepen as you fell into a dreamless sleep in his arms, but continued to speak, “You’re the only part of this world that matters Darling,” He nuzzled his nose into your hair as his eyelids fell, content right here with you, “I will let it all burn just for you my beautiful Angel” He let out a deep sigh as though finally stripping himself of a great burden on his shoulders, “You’re all that matters to me,” His fingers curled into you hair deeper as his hand on your waist pulled your sleeping form in closer in a protective hold.
He stayed holding you for what felt like an eternity while so short at the same time before gently rising with you in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he maneuvered through the dusty bookshelves to the door. He found your room easily, he’d been there before as a child, you and the rest of the boys had spent practically all of Winter, Spring, and Summer Holiday your First Year there. He’d never understood why you’d never invited them again, but now he saw it clearly as a form of protection. Your father likely loved the idea of the sons of all of Voldemorts best followers, and his own son, coming around his manor with their guards down.
It was much different now, the large circular bed in front of the arched window was now covered in shades of red with black pillows instead of the purples he’d remembered from years ago. The vanity directly across the bed was new as well, it’s large mirror sparkled with the reflection of the stars behind the headboard of your bed as he placed you on it. He swore you looked like a princess, the color of your dress clashing with the bed only drawing his attention to you more while he retreated to remove your heels, struggling to unclip them before tossing them aside with a huff of annoyance.
You stirred slightly as he untied the strings on the back of your dress and began softly pulling it down. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it so just draped it across a fuzzy chair in the corner with a shrug before ridding himself of his tie, suit jacket, and pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as he crawled slowly onto the bed behind you, trying his hardest to let you sleep while attempting to get his shirt on over your arms. You woke up only for a second, allowing him to slip you into his shirt as you voiced your annoyance in a few grumbled sentences before slipping back into your dreams, snuggling into his scent and giving him a warm feeling in his chest.
He found it easy to fall into a dreamless sleep, something he was never used to until you were a constant in his life. Under your blankets surrounded by your scent, he felt safe, he felt you were safe, he pulled you into his chest with a content sigh. He’d been waiting weeks to sleep beside you again, and he didn’t plan to be sleeping alone anytime soon.
The next morning Mattheo woke you with kisses to your neck and face, allowing you to adjust to the early morning light before ushering you to get dressed and ready to go. “We’re going back to Hogwarts….or anywhere you want…” Just not here, he thought, wanting more than anything to have you out of this house before your father even realized he planned to.
Repacking your trunk was much faster with Mattheo grabbing things and throwing them in before yanking it up and escorting you out of your own house. Before you recognized what was happening you were being Apparated to right outside the Hogwarts grounds and tugged through a tunnel you had no idea existed.
“Matty what is this?” The tunnel was cramped, barley enough space for the both of you as he guided you around as though he’d been there before.
“It’s a tunnel he made when he went here, not even Harry or the Weasleys know about it so we’ll be safe in here while we get back to the castle.” You didn’t need to ask who he meant by he and you definitely didn’t need to ask why he seemed to know it like the back of his hand.
“Oh” Your voice was small and meek as you started to realize he was keeping things from you too, you didn’t know whether to feel relieved that you weren’t the only one keeping secrets or worried about what he felt was too dangerous to inform you about. You knew he had unavoidable meetings with his father, you knew he had to do things to stay alive and you didn’t blame him, but it hurt you to think about the fact that you’d never really thought about what must be happening.
You’d seen his scars and fresh wounds every month, but he’d always say he had it under control and for some reason you always listened. A part if you wanted to know everything right then, while the other, much larger part, was wishing you’d run away with Mattheo when you had the chance.
After what felt like hours you emerged from behind a statue in a dimly lit corridor somewhere in the dungeons. Mattheo took your hand like it was second nature, allowing your trunk to float along behind him while escorting you to his dorm. The corridors were empty and cold, most of the remaining student body gone on holiday, the castle that used to bring comfort to generations of young witches and wizards, now held a lingering sense of danger, like something wrong was hiding just behind the corner.
And as you watched Mattheo’s focused eyes, clenched jaw, and possessive hand, you thought there just might be.
~~~~
Christmas at Hogwarts was always worth looking forward to, it gave even the most damaged of us a chance to let loose. But as you looked around the Slytherin Common room, realizing it was almost midnight on December 24th and not a single person seemed to care, you decided that just for the next 24 hours, there wasn’t a single thing wrong. You would tell everyone the truth on the 26th and everything would be okay. You were sure of it.
Even if it was just you and Mattheo, you were celebrating Christmas like you did every year. Huddled up in the boys dorm, drinking spiked hot chocolate, fighting over the best Christmas songs, and giving each other presents.
Mattheo wasn’t shocked to see you sauntering through his door with a bottle of firewhiskey and wrapped boxes as you had for the past 5 years. His heart sank slightly as he watched your eyes swivel around the un-decorated and empty dorm room.
“Wh-,” They had decorated their dorm room every year, at first it started with you bringing them little ornaments from a village by your manor your first Christmas together. By your second Christmas, Mattheo took it upon himself to buy a miniature Christmas tree. A memory you could never forget, a chilly December evening organizing only 5 ornaments along it. Arguing slightly all the way until Mattheo told the boys to just listen to you. It was one of the first moments you even realized you liked the curly headed boy.
From that year on, every member of the friend group was ensured to get at least one gift, a new ornament for the dorm tree. Which was still stuffed in it’s box under Mattheo’s nightstand. Mattheo followed your eyes to it and sighed, “I’m sorry Baby, I completely forgot to decorate this year and all the boys got an owl to come home so I did-“
“It’s okay Matty,” You gave him a soft smile as you set your bottle and packages on his bed and took your seat beside them.
“I’ll set it up now and we can decorate it together, Enzo and Blaise left some gifts behind so w-“ He stopped abruptly as you flopped backward further onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh.
“What a shame, all of your dorm mates gone and no way to be caught in the act, the horror,” You giggled slightly as your sarcasm began to settle in his mind and a smile tugged on his lip.
“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love when we’re almost caught, I can feel how you clench around me Princess,” He stalked towards you as he leant himself against the bedposts at the end of the frame, eyeing the way you bit back a laugh and sat yourself up on your elbows.
“Okay Mr. “Scream My Name,” Your voice held an unusual mix of teasing and dominance that Mattheo wasn’t quite used to as you swayed your leg and watched while his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.
“Mmm, don’t tempt me Princess. I wanted to open presents first.” He faked a pout, watching your skirt slide up your moving thigh as your fingers moved to slowly unbutton your shirt.
“Am I not a present fit to be unwrapped Mr.Riddle?” You teased as you licked across you teeth and played at the second button on your shirt. Mattheo groaned from deep in his chest as his head fell backwards, his jaw clenched as he tried to collect himself.
“Baby, I have a plan and if you call me that again you’re gonna miss out. You don’t wanna miss out do you Gorgeous?” His eyes met yours, the dark spark you knew meant he was in control having you bite at your smile and shake your head, still slightly playing with the buttons on your shirt.
“Good girl, now come here,” Mattheo suddenly pushed off the bedposts and motioned for you to follow with a wiggle of two of his fingers.
“I thought I’d have to give these to you late but since you’re here,” Mattheo sighed happily as he pulled out a trunk from under his bed, “Sit on the edge….now.” You were slightly confused but after a second followed his orders, swaying your feet and waiting patiently as he unlocked the trunk with two loud clicks.
“Your first set,” You narrowed your eyes at him as he set two neatly wrapped black boxes beside you, both tied with a red bow. “First….set?” Mattheo only nodded his head with a happy little smile before urging you to open them with his outstretched hands. The first and smallest was expected, a delicate glass snowflake ornament hanging from a silver ribbon.
“Perfect, I can hang it on the tree when it’s set up,” You said happily as you gently set it back in it’s box, “Actually that’s gonna be the first to go on our tree.” Mattheo interjected, making you giggle up at him before realizing he was entirely serious.
“It may collect some dust while I find the perfect cottage for you,” He said with a wave of his hands, “but that’s the first place it’s going, nowhere else”
“Okay Matty, it’s decided,” You laughed as you grabbed at your, significantly less neat, golden wrapped package. Mattheo’s hand dramatically shot to his chest as his mouth dropped open, “For me?” he gasped sarcastically, ripping it from your hands as he opened it.
“Oh fuck Baby, is this the one we saw in Diagon Alley?” Mattheo’s voice was filled with excitement you rarely got to hear as he pulled out the thick silver ring with a snake tangled around the front. He haphazardly shoved it on each of his fingers before ultimately settling on his right pointer finger.
“How does it look Gorgeous?” He held up his pointer and middle finger, letting the others fall beside them as he watched you bite at your lip. “Can’t wait to find out what it’ll look like halfway inside of you…mm” He seemed to be in his own world as he eyed the ring, fitting perfectly with the other two he already wore on that hand, before shaking his head slightly, “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, your turn again.”
You shook your head, blinking rapidly with a shocked smile before reaching for the next box, his eyes lighting up to follow as though he’d just remembered what was hidden behind the wrapping paper. It was was longer and thinner than the last box, opening on a hinge to reveal a golden necklace with a heart shaped ruby dangling in the middle.
“Gods Matty….” You whispered, feeling across the necklace delicately with your fingertips. “It’s beautiful,”
“Can I put it on for you Princess?” Mattheo asked as he crawled on the bed around you, reaching for the necklace before you could answer. Clasping it quickly and leaving a kiss on the base of your neck, whispering with a confident smirk, “It has my initials carved in the middle of the heart.”
You chuckled as you felt at the pendent hanging between your collarbones, grabbing at the next package while Mattheo began kissing up and down the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fanned against your cold skin. You turned in his arms, handing him his hext gift with a smile. “And here’s your ornament,” Mattheo gasped as though he was offended, snatching the package mumbling, “Don’t ruin my surprise Baby,”
“I get you one every year, besides you don’t know what’s on it, now open it,” He huffed while ripping at the messily placed tape, halting slightly, staring down at a handmade ornament in the shape of a gingerbread house. A moving picture of you and him from almost two years ago sat where the door would have been, a picture that was taken only days after he realized he was madly in love with you, something he wasn’t sure you knew. Making it ten times better.
“I’ve changed my mind, your snowflake will be the second ornament on our tree.” His gaze met yours as a smile grew on his face, laughing while gently placing it into it’s box and leaning back to set it on his nightstand. “I wanna open my last one before you get more.”
Mattheo’s voice was stern and matter of factly, taking his last present from beside you as you nervously chewed the insides of your cheek. He wasted no time ripping into it, looking between you and the box as his brows bunched together, delicately pulling out a silk red tie, “Now, no offense Darling, but red isn’t really my color,”
“No….but it is mine.” Mattheo watched as you bit your lip before looking back at the box, realization settling in as he clutched the tie hard in his hand, closing his eyes as he groaned slightly.
“You know they say great minds think alike….” He spoke after a second of gathering himself, kissing your cheek before slipping off the bed and reaching back into the trunk, retreating with two larger wrapped boxes.
“This one first,” He all but shoved the box at you, watching you intently as he bounced in front of you. You slowly unwrapped the box, delicately removing each piece of tape as Mattheo narrowed his eyes at you threateningly. “I’m gonna open it myself if you don’t hurry up.”
“Okay okay” You giggled, tearing through the rest of the paper and throwing off the lid of a deep red box. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down at its contents, a black blindfold neatly wrapped around a set of fuzzy handcuffs, a vibrator, and a collar on a chain. Your face burned as you looked up to a now very nervous Mattheo.
“Is it too much? Do you not like the idea? We can just move on to the next one if-“ He rambled as you looked up at him with a smile, reaching into the box as he spoke.
“Is this a remote Mattheo?” You asked teasingly, biting your lip at Mattheo’s sigh of relief from your demeanor. “Hell yeah it is Baby, that’s more for me though,” He was immediately back to his regular cocky self as he snatched the remote and slipped it into his pocket.
“Saved the best for last.” Mattheo sighed, handing you the largest of the four and watching you intently. He knew exactly which would he your favorite, and knew exactly which one to save for last. You smiled brightly up to him as you pulled out the red, loose weight thigh length dress from it’s box.
“Matty! I love it, thank you,” You practically screamed as you jumped up to hug him, laughing as he lifted you up by your waist. He chuckled in your ear, wrapping your legs around him, pulling you back to look at your face.
“Anything for you Gorgeous,” He said breathlessly as he smashed his lips into yours in a passionate kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs while his tongue began exploring your mouth immediately.
“Fucking hell I love you, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me ya know that,” He growled, kissing down your neck, nipping at it aggressively as he mindlessly cleared the bed of presents, papers, and boxes before laying you down softly and crawling up your body to meet your lips again. Mattheo quickly rid himself of his shirt, pulling at yours as you slid your skirt and panties off, Mattheo cursed as he jumped from the bed to shove his sweats and boxers off. Tripping over them in a rush to join you back on the bed, falling on you slightly as you fell into a fit of laughter.
“Yeah yeah whatever, come here,” He huffed, pulling your face in to an aggressive kiss. He nipped at your lips and battled your tongue with his, your teeth knocking together as you breathed heavily into each other’s mouths. His hands trailed slowly down your sides, stopping at your hips to tug you forward, plowing into without warning, a whine of a moan fell from you as Mattheo sighed and fell into you, holding himself up on his forearms as he began softly fucking into you.
Mattheo’s lips trailed along your shoulder, stoping only to moan as you circled your hips to his slow thrusts. Your fingers found themselves tangled his hair, tugging slightly as the others trailed down his toned back with a teasing scratch. He groaned in your ear, picking up his pace only slightly as he rocked his hips into yours. He lifted his head to meet your eyes as you clenched around him, steadying himself with a hand on your hip, increasing his pace further as he watched your head fall back with a moan of appreciation.
Mattheo felt himself twitch inside you as your nails dug into his back and tugged at his hair, he wasn’t gonna last long after not having you for weeks, but he wanted you to come first. He slowed himself down to an agonizingly slow pace as you whined under him, he balanced himself on a hand beside your head as he brushed his free hand from your hip down your thigh before suddenly bringing it to rush fast circles onto your clit. Picking up his pace and falling back into your neck, licking a stripe from the base of your neck to your ear, whisperering against it’s shell as you shivered, “You like that Princess? Do you like being fucked after I spoil you?”
All you could do to respond was nod weakly as he groaned against your bruised neck, “Do you like it when Daddy treats you like a Princess?” For a second Mattheo stalled, as though he didn’t mean to let the name slip, but quickly picked up his pace as you wiggled below him with a whine of “Yes”
He looked down at you with a wild, daring smile as his eyes darkened further, “Yes what?” He growled, thrusting into you harder as you tried to speak, jumbling your words as you began to lose focus.
“Daddy, ye- Oh fuck, Yes Dadd-“ Mattheo cut you off with a wicked smile as he ruthlessly pounded into you, you were shaking with the bed as his thrusts became irregular and his fingers slowed. Your head felt dizzy as you clamped around him, feeling his cum spill inside you sending you over the edge as you screamed his name.
You came together as Mattheo collapsed on top of you. “That’s much better than our past Christmas traditions,” You sighed in a breathless voice as Mattheo’s arms snaked around your naked waist, cuddling you into him while still inside.
“I love you, and I plan to spend every Christmas I have left with you,” Mattheo whispered in a suddenly very serious tone.
~~~~
Caught VII
I hope this Isn’t weird or anything because I absolutely love it🥰🥰
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runningfrom2am · 5 months
Text
leveling the playing field VI
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing
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a/n: omg it finally happened?? i couldn't resist anymore i had to :,)
anyway i wanted to pop in for a rare note and say thank you so so much to everyone reading this!! it means so much to me that people are enjoying this as much as i am enjoying writing it :)
so if you are and you wouldn't mind,, please reblog or leave your thoughts in the replies! it really helps me out so that way it can reach more people, and also it really helps motivate me to actually keep writing it bc i'll be reminded people want me to :).
thank you for reading this long ass authors note! and thanks for making it this far in the fic!! 
i promise it's not over yet ;) we've still got a long way to go! so hopefully i'll see y'all soon when the next part comes out !
xoxo, raye
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You walked back to the academy, still too high on adrenaline to even consider sleeping at that point. By the time Coryo made it back in, it was nearly eight am. You totally understand him wanting to get a bit of extra sleep, considering the night you just had- but who knows how long he was with Dr. Gaul.
Other mentors had started to arrive before he did, and almost everyone made it clear they didn't want to speak with you. You didn't have the energy to chat anyway, you didn't want to. You're endlessly relieved when Coryo arrives, notifying you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder. You jump at this, regardless of his effort to not scare you.
The chair scrapes across the floor and you feel everyone's eyes on you at the dramatic reaction. To him, it really wasn't shocking.
"Sorry- I'm sorry." You chuckle, quickly getting up to give him his spot back.
"Have you slept?" He asks, making no effort to reclaim the desk, noticing how your hands are shaking as you motion for him to sit.
You aren't sure what the safer answer is. Yes, I slept while I was supposed to be watching over Lucy Gray? Or no, I'm still running on the two hours I got a couple of days ago? Neither is very promising, so you decide to just be honest.
"No, uh, I've been watching for Lucy Gray." You point to the screen, unable to control the trembling of your hand as you do. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, so I just decided to start drinking coffee a few hours ago. Might as well commit." You explain, trying to force positivity into your tone and a smile on your face.
Coryo eyes you warily. "You should go home. Get some rest."
"No! No, I'm fine." You insist. "I'm not missing it."
"Go home and sleep." He says again, sternly this time. You tend to listen to him when he's commanding so he clung to that approach, but the look in your eyes immediately makes him regret it.
You look down, then back to your seat on the bench. You take a shaky breath before locking eyes with the blonde again. You're full of impulses that contradict each other. To listen to him, to snap and tell him not to speak to you like that, or to storm out and never come back. Realistically, he is under a ridiculous amount of stress. You can't blame him for being a little commandeering. After all, it's what he is meant to do. It's what he's been raised for. "I told you. I can't."
Realization dawns on him and he stares at you for a second, eyes widening. "Right." He nods slightly, shrugging off his coat and holding it out to you. "Just go lay down on the bench." He accentuates his point by shaking the jacket.
You smile, taking it gratefully. "Thank you, Coryo."
"'Course." He nods, finally moving to sit down once you walk away. You settle down on the bench and curl up, your head resting on his bunched-up uniform jacket like it's a pillow. You're not sure you've ever been so comfortable, and you're asleep within a minute.
Coriolanus wonders if his coat will smell like raspberries when you return it.
"What's he doing?" You hear Coryo's accusatory voice before you even open your eyes. As you try and shift, adjusting to the sounds of everyone around you, you come back to reality. No wonder your neck is sore as soon as you sit up, sore from your wooden bed, with no time to really wake up before you're hit with the realization of what's happening on the screen.
"I-I don't know!" Lysistrata says, assumingly replying to him.
You're squinting at the lights as you adjust, the figures of Lucy Gray and Jessup becoming clear as he chases her in her rainbow dress out of the tunnel and across the floor, booking it toward a pile of debris that would allow her to climb up into the stands.
"What's happening?" You ask pointlessly, standing now that you see Coryo is as well.
Lysistrata looks at you, shrugging helplessly as she stands next to Coryo.
"Hey! You promised me that if I-" You start, pacing toward the girl with determination, anger burning up in your chest and in your eyes.
"Y/N/N, wait-" Coriolanus holds his hand out to stop you, effectively his attack dog, from getting any closer. From telling her off for blowing your deal. He squints closer at the screen, not saying a word, just leaving you in a limbo- unsure what to do.
As the camera zooms in on the tribute, his theory is confirmed. Jessup has a white foam surrounding his mouth, and Coryo looks at you knowingly. Had Lucy Gray poisoned him? Surely not, he was her only ally. It was too early to take him out, but maybe she didn't think that through, maybe-
"Rabies." You say, hardly above a whisper, eyes locked back on the screen now as well. "That's why the medications didn't help."
Coriolanus is relieved by this explanation, it makes so much more sense. But only knowing what's wrong doesn't help Lucy Gray, Jessup is still fully feral, chasing her up in the stands on wobbly legs as she makes her way to what is left of a concession stand.
"If she can just stay away, he won't last long in this state." Lysistrata says, looking on with sadness in her eyes. "Poor Jessup..."
"Coryo." You say, ignoring her sympathies, seeing Coryo's mind running miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. "Do you remember those posters in the war? When the rabies breakout happened?" You ask, holding onto his arm, giving him a light shake to snap him out of it. "They said that-"
You don't get to finish before he's reaching for the comunicuff. Water, of course.
"Wait." Lysistrata stops him, grabbing the arm that was reaching for the screen.
"Don't touch him! Jessup's going to die anyway! All we can do is try to keep him away- you just said that!" You fire off at her.
"I know, Y/N." She lets him go, holding her hands out defensively. "Let me do it. He's my tribute, after all."
"Lyssie... You don't have to do that." Coriolanus tells her, and you feel guilty for snapping on her like that. She was just trying to help.
"If Jessup can't win, I want it to be Lucy Gray. That's what he would want, too." She explains, stepping back to her desk, tapping away at the screen and sending in water bottles on faulty drones that are more likely to knock the tributes out and smash the bottle than successfully deliver it to their hand.
Thankfully, this is what you want. You watch quietly as Jessup is bombarded with drones programmed to seek out his features, and Lucy Gray drops behind some of the seats to avoid any flying glass or stray drones. He swings helplessly at them with a board he picked up somewhere along the chase, and you glance at Lyssie for only a second, which is long enough to pick up on the fact that she's crying. God, that's probably your fault.
He trips and falls off the stands, bones audibly cracking on impact. Everyone in the room is silent as Lucy Gray reemerges, climbing down to be at his side.
"God, please don't let him die alone..." Lysistrata whispers, hardly audible even to Coriolanus, who's stood right next to her.
"She won't." He whispers back. "It's not her style."
You swallow, drowning in your own guilt while Lucy Gray is talking to the dying boy, stroking his hair and telling him to go to sleep until his eyes lose all sense of life, chest halting. She closes his eyes gently, which cues the buzzer announcing his death.
"Lyssie..." You stop her as she stands to leave, her eyes glassy. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what you were doing."
She laughs slightly, more tears spilling from her eyes. "Y/N. I know you, okay? I get it. Don't apologize if you don't mean it." Until she finished speaking, you didn't realize her laughs were bitter. "You can't keep taking out your anger issues on everyone else. I'm sick of it, everyone is sick of it- sick of you." She says, not giving you the chance to defend yourself before she's gone. You did mean it, but it's not like she'd ever believe that. You had done this to yourself.
You straighten your shoulders, turning to face the screen again. "Lysistrata will come around." Coryo says, sensing the tension radiating off your skin like a heater.
You just slightly shake your head. "Maybe I... Maybe I should go home. Just for a bit." You say, but it comes out more as a question.
"You should stay." He states, offhandedly sending some food in for Lucy Gray before turning to face you fully. He could guess why you don't want to go home, whether or not you were explicitly told to not return until the games were done, though, he doesn't know. Either way, for him, it wasn't worth the risk.
"Actually, yeah, you're right." You sniff. "I'm just having a moment. I'll be fine." You force a smile, blinking rapidly to push back those stubborn tears that wanted to spill.
"No, no that's not what I meant. I just meant..." Coryo trails off.
"It's okay." You smile and nod. "Can I just get some air, then? I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Please. Don't rush on my account." He nods. "But don't stray too far."
"Yes sir, Mister President." You joke, giving him a lazy salute before heading for the door.
You had been gone for a while, far too long for Coriolanus's comfort. Lucy Gray retreated into the tunnels after receiving the food he sent and seeing Reaper come back into the clearing. Now, with Lucky rambling on about the weather again, he felt like he would snap.
He double-checks once more that Lucy Gray is, in fact, still hiding, before he gets up to go after you.
It doesn't take Coryo long to find you, due to him tracking down the sound of crying in the hall. No doubt in his mind it was you, but he'd never seen you cry before.
You stop at the sound of footsteps, frantically wiping your eyes and nose on your sleeve as you make an effort to stand. By then, he's in front of you.
"Don't get up." He says, crouching down in front of you. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know exactly why you're crying, or how to help. He wishes he did, he would do just about anything. "What do you need?"
You shake your head, forcing a smile and trying to stand anyway. Coryo stops you with a hand on your shoulder. "I-I don't.." You start, but as soon as you speak the tears start flowing again and you feel like you can't breathe.
"It's okay. Hey, you're okay." He says, pulling you into his arms, effectively onto his lap as he sits back. One thing he knows that works with you is a hug- it's all he can do while he thinks over what could be the root of your problem, or was it just that Lysistrata's comment pushed you over the edge? You were overtired, overworked, and this easily could have been the last straw.
Through your tears, you try to tell him that you're fine, but you just stutter and spit and you know you're a mess- a mortification to your family.
"I'm not sick of you, Y/N." Coryo says, rubbing your back. Feeling your hair between his fingers and trying not to tangle it or pull it by mistake. "I could never get sick of you."
It surprises him when you laugh. Of all things, a laugh. It was just so you.
His statement was more of a confession to himself than to you, and when you pull back he's scared. Was it not about that? Was he way off base, or incredibly unhelpful and somehow offended you?
You sniff, wiping your eyes again. "Thanks," You chuckle, shaking your head. "But you don't have to say that."
Coryo tilts his head, confusion knitted into his expression. "I do." He insists, able to look into your eyes now. "I have to tell you that because it's the truth."
You sigh, smiling slightly. Sadly. "You don't see it."
"See it? See what?"
You just shrug, making no attempts to move away. His hands on you, the feeling of him almost surrounding you is comforting. You want to live in it forever, but you know you can't. "Just... That I'm me, I guess." You say, voice cracking. "You're unflinching to it." You're abrasive sometimes, defensive, and some would call you an overall angry person. He doesn't see you that way, and you're not sure why. Today you were slapped in the face with the fact that your actions have consequences more serious than what your parents can make up for with money or unwritten agreements.
"What's wrong with being you?" He asks rhetorically, not giving you a chance for you to argue before he continues. "You did the right thing. They're jealous- that's all it is. None of them fight for what they want like you, they just sit around and wait for it to be handed to them on a silver platter, and you could too, but you're better than that. You're better than them. Stronger than them."
With his hands now moved up to your shoulders, he's shaking you gently, trying to get your mind to soak in what he's telling you. To believe it, because he knows he's right. The reason others avoid you is the very reason he is drawn to you- your ambition is unmatched, except, maybe, by his own.
"Do you understand, Y/N?" Coryo asks, pressing one hand to your cheek and staring deep into your eyes as if he could somehow look into your mind and grab hold of what Lysistrata said, replacing it with his vision of who you are. "You are perfect. They are fools."
Your smile had gone, ready to fight his point, but it returned by the time his rant was done, blush creeping its way across your cheeks and over your nose. "Perfect is a bit of a strong word." You speak softly. "Don't you think?"
"No. I don't." He shakes his head slightly, running his thumb across your cheek to wipe away a stray tear.
The air became thick with everything he said circulating in your head like a carousel. A relentless spinning cycle with Coryo's every word circling around itself and caging in your panic. The spinning seemed to slow after a moment, as if giving you a chance to catch your breath.
Seemingly, in your experience with him, compliments were few and far between. To others, anyway. Not that you were keeping track, but if receiving compliments from Coriolanus Snow was a race you would be winning by a mile, and that's exactly what it felt like every time.
He tilts your chin up again, the same way he had just a couple of days ago in the arena, drawing your eyes back to his. It takes every ounce of his focus to keep his hand from shaking.
Truth be told, the desperate honesty in his eyes was enough to convince you he was right. You are better than them, smarter than them, stronger than them. If Lysistrata and your other classmates chose to hate you for that, that was because of fear. You'd be lying if you tried to say it didn't make you feel better, even powerful. Coriolanus thought it was right, so how could it not be?
You smile, nodding slightly within his grasp. "You're right, aren't you?"
"Always." He validates your entire thought process just like that.
You can't help it anymore. The power of his words push you past the brink, leaning forward to meet his lips with your own. Coryo pulls you forward with his firm and gentle hold on your cheek, meeting you half way. And as he kisses you, heart pounding out of his chest, you both feel fucking invincible.
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ryuryuryuyurboat · 2 months
Text
8 letters, 3 words!
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synopsis: confessions are tricky.
genre: fluff
characters: lyney x gn! reader
warnings: modern (college) au, reader is referred to in 2nd person, navia + lynette cameo
a/n: hehe hi @ariicandy! i'm your secret admirer for @ecrin-de-litterature's kiss don't tell event :> hope you like this gift hehe happy valentine's!! likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!
©2024 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.
masterlist
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“oh my, y/n, you really do have expensive taste.” navia grins at you from across the table. “did you win the lottery, or something?”
you huff. “no, i found them on my table.” the second you open the lid of the (previously) beautifully decorated tin box, the sweet fragrance of macarons wafts into your nostrils— you almost miss the way your friend’s jaw drops as she openly gapes at the treats. 
“what?” 
“you… er, well, do you know what those are?” navia gleefully looks between you and the macarons.
there’s a soft clink as lynette sets down her teacup. “5 bucks they have no clue,” she bets, earning a soft “tsk” from you and a smug navia crossing her arms as she leans back in her chair. 
“of course i do! they’re macarons! hey–” you protest, as navia dissolves into giggles and lynette sighs, “hey– listen, listen, i may have flunked midterms but that doesn’t mean i—stop laughing!—that doesn’t mean i don’t know a sweet treat when i see one, okay!”
lynette leans forward, an odd glint in her eyes. “these aren’t your ordinary macarons, you know. there’s only one bakery that sells them like this, and people queue for hours just so they can get their hands on one of these– they only sell eleven boxes each day, mind you. it’s like you’re saying your louis vuitton is just some random bag you picked off the streets. a single box can quite literally cost you the skin of your a–”
you cut her off. “i think we know what you mean, just take some if you wanna try ‘em, okay?” 
“still, who’d gift you something so expensive?” navia muses, chewing on the lemon macaron she’d nicked while you weren’t looking. 
“probably the same mystery guy who gave me that plushie bouquet the other day, and then those chocolates from yesterday, and also probably that box of pâte de fruits…” you hum in thought, utterly oblivious to your friends’ astounded gazes.
“...y/n, i think you might have a secret admirer.” 
“wha– hey, wait! what was with that tone when you said ‘who’d give me something that pricey’? you tryna say i’m not worth those?!?”
laughter echoes across the empty cafeteria as you lunge at navia and screech something about wanting her to return the macaron. none of you notice the pair of periwinkle eyes fixed on your figure from afar.
“ooooh, does someone have a secret admirer~?” navia peeks over your shoulder at the white envelope lying innocently on your desk. “y’know,” she continues, unfazed by your side-eye, “if it’s the same guy that got you those macarons, maybe you should consider getting–”
“shut up,” you grumble, feeling your ears heat up, “i don’t even know who gave me all these.” 
“do people not normally sign their names somewhere?”
“just the initials.” you unfold the enclosed paper, pointing to the very bottom, where the letters LS were printed. “who’s that supposed to be? lonely spirit?”
you don’t see a certain someone’s eyes dim when you don’t bother reading the letter and shove the envelope into your bag.
13 february. 7 days since you started receiving letters. 7 days since you got your first plushie bouquet (how the sender knew your favourite blooms and even your favourite character was a mystery you had yet to solve). and 1 day before valentine’s. 
the letter you got today was way simpler than the flowery words that filled the pages from before:
3 boxes, 8 letters. think you’ll be able to figure it out, ma chérie? that’s the key to your last gift.
(hint: the way each letter starts is important. good luck♡)
“the way each letter starts?” lynette shrugs, “no idea. probably something like the first letter of the first word.”
“lynette,” you begin, “you’re a genius!”
one problem, though. you only received 5 letters. oh, well, didn’t hurt to try, right?
“let’s see…” you lay out the letters on the table, trying hard to ignore the contents that made you blush so furiously in the safety of your bedroom. “u, l, v, o, i, e…” you mutter, before navia gives you a light shove.
“no way it’s taking you so long, isn’t it already so obvious?”
“???”
“rearrange the letters—where’s my pen— and what do you get?”
you stare mutely at the letters. “...i love u.” you read, before you’re hit with a realisation.
“wait– boxes are containers, and then words are like containers for letters– and then, and then… and then i love you makes up eight letters in three letters! i’m a genius!”
“if you’re such a genius, you should’ve noticed a certain someone staring at you.” lynette nods at a point behind you, “go get your man, y/n. i don’t wanna hear complaints about being single for valentine’s.”
you turn– and there stood lyney snezhevich, in all his glory, a bouquet in his hand. he offers you an apprehensive smile as he extends his arms for you to accept the flowers—your final gift— and averts his eyes. 
“seems you’ve managed to crack the code, ma chérie. now, then, if you hadn’t known from the letters… will you be my valentine?”
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multifandombitxh · 1 year
Text
Keep It Down
Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader
Genre: Smut/Angst with some fluff sprinkled in there ✨
Warnings: Self pleasure, caught in the act, jealous/protective Din, 18+
AN: some good ol Jealous!Din for the girlies 😌 It's such a stereotypical fic gang I'm gonna be so real with you lmao. It's also a long one so prepare for the worst typos you've ever witnessed.
PS I haven't seen S3 yet but I got back into the hype 💁‍♀️
18+ minors dni
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It had been quite some time since you were able to have a moment to yourself. So long, in fact, that you couldn't remember the last time you did anything for yourself that was even remotely relaxing. You had been stuck on one mission for months, scouring the corners of each galaxy for a specific target with an unreasonably high bounty over their head. Din kept telling you it would be worth it in the end, but you were beginning to doubt that sentiment about two months into the search.
After a very pleasant visit to Alderaan, you were able to snag something for yourself to help with some much needed "stress relief".
You did your best to hide it from Din, considering you really didn't want him to know you'd just purchased a vibrating self massager. They were hard to come by, so when you found a merchant that sold them discreetly, you knew you had to take the chance. After it was all said and done, and Din asked where you'd been while he was busy getting information about the target, it was hard to explain to him where you'd gone.
"And where have you been this whole time?" He asked as you approached him outside of a local bar.
"I was, um, chatting up some locals," You lied, trying to maintain some semblance of composure as he stared you down. "Wasn't able to find anything about the target. I don't think he's been here."
"Well, while you were busy wasting your time, I was able to find one of his distant relatives," He explained, "Turns out he has such a high bounty for more than just murder, he's a real piece of shit in the eyes of his family. She said she knows where he might be."
"Yeah? Where?"
"Tatooine."
You scoffed. "That's not far."
"Which means we need to leave soon," He explained, "There's a crew heading there in just a few hours."
"Okay, so who's the crew?" You asked, eyeing him suspiciously. "Why can't we just go on our own? The ship could make it."
"It could, but not that quickly," He sighed, "Their ship is a little more advanced. It'll get us there faster."
You shrugged, raising an eyebrow at him. "Have you talked to them?"
He nodded once and began to walk off, likely in the direction of the meeting place. "I have. That distant relative? She knows these guys, let me talk to one of them over her communicator. They said they'll take us there, no questions asked."
You followed closely, trying to match his pace. "I find that hard to believe."
"You find a lot of things hard to believe," He teased, nudging your shoulder with his own. "It's kept us out of a lot of trouble. Always liked that about you."
You tried not to react to the compliment- the last thing he needed was an ego boost- but internally, it made your heart flutter and your stomach feel heavy. You opted not to respond to this, hoping he wouldn't press.
Unfortunately, that only made it worse.
"Would it kill you to take a compliment every once in a while?" He asked, his tone annoyed.
"It might," You replied with a smile, "Never done it, so I don't know."
"Maybe you should try it some time," He scoffed back at you, causing you to roll your eyes.
Your relationship with Din was complicated to say the least. You knew from the start you had some kind of attraction to him- what kind, you weren't sure, but it was strong and unrelenting. His voice was dangerously enticing, leaving you shivering any time he spoke just above a whisper, and the mystery of his face only added to the excitement. You had no clue what he looked like under that helmet, but you didn't care at this point. It never occurred to you to fantasize about his appearance- the way he carried himself, his voice, his confidence, everything about him struck you more.
But you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little bit curious about the color of his eyes.
When the two of you finally arrived at the crew's headquarters, you gave him a skeptical look. The warehouse before you was old, rusting and decaying in every corner. It was discolored, looking to have once been a pale green. The roof had caved in in several places, and the stairs to the roof were a death trap waiting to collapse on any unsuspecting victims. Din took note of your expression, waving his hand once to dismiss it.
"Not a word," He commanded, "I don't want to hear it."
"All I'm saying-"
"Don't make me tell you twice, Y/N. I already know what you're going to say, so zip it."
Frowning, you folded your arms over your chest in a pout. You followed him inside, passing through a creaky metal door that you were sure would be better off as scrap metal. Din led the way, checking corners and keeping one hand close to his blaster. As you entered the warehouse, the smell of burning rubber invaded your nostrils, causing you to make a face. As you rounded a corner, a large, shiny silver ship sat in the center of the large open space.
It stood out like a sore thumb, clean and sparkling among the rubble. You both exchanged looks, watching as three people stood around the ship and chatted away. They didn't seem hostile, but you knew better than to underestimate them. You approached carefully, keeping an eye out for any others who might be hiding nearby. One of them took notice of you as you stepped under a light, giving you away.
"Hey, the Mandalorian is here!" He called out, waving excitedly at the two of you. The man was tall and thin, barely any meat on his bones but a smile that was charming in its own way. "He's got a friend! Come on over, you guys!"
Din glanced over at you slowly, and you returned his look with a shrug. As you walked over to the group, you took in the remaining two of the crew; a woman with short, dark hair, several tattoos, and a frown that would scare off anyone. The other, a man of similar stature to the first, wore round, thick glasses, and was covered in what appeared to be oil.
"Lera said you'd be coming soon," The man said, "What are your names? I'm Dom, that's Starsei, and this guy over here is my twin, Arus."
"Y/N," You greeted, offering a small smile, then gesturing to Din. "He won't tell you his name, just call him whatever you like."
Din nodded, affirming your words. Dom watched the two of you for a moment, a huge grin still plastered to his face. A fourth member of the crew emerged from underneath the ship, covered in more oil than Arus. His dark, straight hair clung to his forehead and his mouth hung open as he breathed heavily. Oil stuck to his bare torso as he offered the two of you a wave.
"And that's Nox," Dom said, an annoyed tone to his voice.
You couldn't help smiling at Nox- he was handsome, likely more handsome than most- with a wide jaw, dark stubble, and his body toned similarly to that of a God. You shifted your weight as he locked eyes with you, shooting you a half smile that gave you butterflies. Din stood beside you, moving closer as he noticed the tension that hung between you and the mystery man. Nox took note of Din as well, offering him a full smile.
"Have any trouble getting here?" He asked, his voice just as dreamy as he looked.
"No," Din said simply.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as the two of them held each other's gaze, as if a silent conversation was happening just between them. You cleared your throat and looked over to Dom, giving him a warm smile. "So, um, when do we leave?"
"As soon as you're ready," He replied, "We were just finishing up repairs on the ship, so you're welcome to head inside and make yourselves at home. We'll all be roommates for the next two days, so we'll do a big dinner tonight to get to know each other better."
"Sounds great," You said, your voice as friendly as you could muster. There was a clear rivalry brewing between Nox and Din, and you were trying to do everything in your power to alleviate the tension. "We'll head inside."
Din ignored you, still staring at Nox. Irritated, you grabbed his upper arm and began dragging him toward the ship, smiling at the others along the way. Nox caught your eye again and you smiled, hoping he wasn't intimidated by Din too much. Once inside the ship, you all but slammed Din against a wall once you were out of earshot of the others.
"What is wrong with you?" You asked.
"What's wrong with me?" He replied, his voice filled with anger. "What's wrong with you?"
"I haven't done anything wrong!" You said, shouting in a whisper. "You're the one acting crazy!"
"Oh, I'm the crazy one?" He laughed, "I'm not the one making doe eyes at strangers."
Your mouth hung open in shock. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Y/N," He went on, "This is serious. We don't know them. If he tries something because you couldn't help yourself, and everything goes sideways, this was all for nothing."
"Why do you care?" You asked, becoming annoyed with his reasoning. "He's hot, give me a break! I'm allowed to think people are hot, Din!"
He let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "We're on a mission, Y/N. This isn't the time."
"Well, it's been a long mission," You huffed, raising an eyebrow at him. "And I'm bored. The least I can do is have a little fun."
In truth, you hadn't even been planning on doing anything with Nox other than admire his good-looks. Your feelings for Din ran deep, and you weren't about to ignore those feelings for one good looking guy. If anything, you were hoping this would show Din that you weren't his, and that he had no claim over you. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough for him to come clean about his own feelings.
If he even had any for you, that was.
Once everyone was loaded up onto the ship and you'd set off, you found yourself relaxing on a very comfy couch in a very cramped lounge area. The ship was dimly lit, offering little light to help you find your way around, so you opted to sit down and wait until someone told you to do something. After a while, Arus found you, and decided to sit with you.
"So, uh, is your partner, um... Okay?" He asked quietly.
"He's fine," You said, waving your hand.
"What was he so angry about?"
You shrugged, trying not to give away what was really going on between you. "Beats me."
You decided to get to know Arus a bit, finding out that he and Dom were engineers that escaped from the Empire many years ago after faking their deaths. You learned that Starsei is their pilot, and she seems standoffish because she doesn't often speak. She was a prisoner of the Empire, who helped Dom and Arus escape many years ago. Nox is their newest recruit; also an engineer, but mostly specializes in communications. He also used to be a smuggler.
After a while of chatting back and forth, Nox joined the party, sitting between you and Arus.
"Seems like the Mandalorian isn't having a great time if I'm not mistaken," Nox joked, glancing over at you. "Thought he was gonna slit my throat after I saw him in the hall just now."
"He'll warm up to everyone eventually," You said with a small smile, "He's a little hesitant about new people."
"So, how long have you two been together?" Nox asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Shock took over your features and you laughed awkwardly at the gesture.
"We're not together," You stated, "We've been working together for a long time now. Maybe a year."
Nox seemed to ponder your response for a moment as Dom entered the room, knocking on the wall to get everyone's attention.
"Arus, we need you up front," Dom said in a soft voice. "Star could use some help."
Arus excused himself, leaving you with Nox in silence. You tried to relax, sinking into the sofa as much as you could to appear as non-threatening as possible. Nox did the same, leaning back and yawning as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. The only sound was the rush of the ship, shaking softly as it dove through space.
"I want to know more about you," Nox said after a moment, turning to meet your gaze. His green eyes were soft, but lidded. "Who is Y/N, exactly? Other than the Mandalorian's pet, I mean."
"I am not his pet," You scoffed, laughing slightly and hitting his upper arm before looking away. "We're friends, that's all."
"You might want to check on that with him," He replied, "He was ready to kill me earlier just for looking at you. I don't think that's a normal thing to do for someone who's just a friend."
Nox's hand came to rest on your knee, his palm open fully and his thumb gently stroking back and forth. "If I'm being honest, I think he could tell why I was looking at you, and I think that pissed him off."
When you met his gaze, a pit formed in your stomach. Nox was handsome, and charming, and clearly making a move on you. But... Something was wrong. It felt wrong. There was something about the way his hand felt on your knee that made your skin crawl, his voice made you cringe, and the entire setting was uncomfortable. It was hard to pinpoint exactly why, until you thought a little harder about it.
He wasn't Din.
"I... Think I should go," You said, standing from the couch and turning back to face him briefly. "Look, you seem nice. But I'm... I'm not interested."
He smirked up at you. "I knew it. You totally have a thing for each other."
Dom appeared in the doorway again, a huge grin on his face. "Who's ready to eat?"
-
After what felt like hours, you were finally able to step away from dinner to your quarters- Starsei showed you the way- closing the door behind you. You removed your gear, tossing it to the floor and sighing in relief at the loss of the heaviness. Removing the massager from your pocket, you walked to the bathroom and gave it a good wash, not trusting it after being in your pocket all day.
Once you returned to the room, you actually took in what it looked like. Star had told you that you and Din would have to share one room, which hadn't bothered you until you realized there was only one bed that sat in the center of the room, facing the door. It looked big enough for both of you, but still, you knew it would be an awkward conversation to have once he arrived.
The room was dimly lit- much like the rest of the ship- one wall light sitting above the door and casting a reddish glow over the entire room. The bed looked uncomfortable, with a thin, gray blanket sitting atop the mattress and two equally thin pillows where your heads would rest. It wasn't home, by any means, but it was a place to sleep.
With that, you laid down in the bed, shivering from anticipation. It had been a long time since you'd had enough privacy for something like this. Not bothering to remove your pants, you slowly lowered your hand past the waistband and sighed softly as the blue silicone material grazed your skin. With one press of the button, you felt yourself melting into the hard mattress, all of your worries fading away with the soft sound of buzzing.
Your breathing began to pick up in pace and you wriggled slightly as the sensation became more and more intense. It was getting hard to suppress the sounds you were making, so you bit down on your lip to try and stifle whatever noises threatened to come out. A shaky breath managed to worm its way out of you, hitching in your throat as it started to escape.
Thoughts of Din infiltrated your imagination, and you didn't try to suppress them as they came. You thought about the sound of his voice, talking you through the pleasure and egging you on. A wave of energy passed through you and went straight to your core, wetness beginning to pool. You thought about his hands pinning you down as he had his way with you, panting and sweating above you. It was almost too much, and it felt like the room was spinning.
Closing your eyes, you began to focus on finding release, waves of pleasure flooding your body with each passing second. Your breathing picked up in pace, and it was getting harder and harder to stop the tiny moans that escaped your throat. With a flick of your wrist, the massager hit the perfect spot, pulling a sharp gasp out of you. Just as it left your lips, a large, warm hand clamped over your mouth.
Terror filled your body and replaced all sense of satisfaction, forcing you to rip your hand out of its hiding place and your eyes to shoot open. Din hovered over you, one hand covering the lower half of your shocked face while the other pressed into the mattress beside your head. He was missing most of his armor, his helmet the only piece that remained. Adrenaline shot through your veins, and you struggled against his hold.
"Sshh," He shushed you, holding a single finger up to the part of his mask where his lips would be. "Everyone in this quadrant is gonna hear you if you don't keep it down."
Confusion replaced the shock, your eyebrows drawing together as you breathed heavily through your nose. He seemed to see the questions in your eyes, and you could swear you could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke again.
"I could hear you from down the hall," He explained, "Thought maybe you were... With someone. But it looks like I was wrong."
You shot him a glare, thinking back to the evening you spent with Nox and how it must have implicated something different to Din.
"I don't have to help you, if you don't want me to," He reasoned, the hand covering your mouth beginning to lessen the pressure it was applying. "I just don't want you to get caught by the others. Just say the word, I'll walk away and we'll never speak of this again."
You wished you could see his face to make a better decision about what his intentions were, but with the helmet in the way, it made it impossible. You thought back to the feelings you were having just minutes ago, and felt excitement bubble up in your gut. Despite the surprise, you wanted this. Your expression softened under his gaze, and you felt your body relax under his touch.
"The way you're looking at me... Should I take that as a yes?" He asked, tilting his head to one side. "You want me here? You don't want me to go find your little friend, do you?"
You shook your head slowly and a soft, amused laugh filtered through his helmet, sending a shiver down your spine.
"You wanna give that thing to me?" He asked, gesturing with his head toward the massager. You lifted your hand and placed it in his, your body beginning to shake at the idea of what was about to happen. "That's my girl."
His words sent a shockwave down to your middle, causing a soft whine to escape from behind his hand. His girl. Remembering to keep you quiet, he pressed down on your mouth again, shaking his head.
"As much as I want to hear every little sound you're going to make," Din said, his voice sounding strained. "Can't have anyone else listening in, got that? You're mine tonight."
You nodded.
"Glad to see you can follow orders somewhere, at least," He joked, the laughter in his voice making you shiver.
With one hand he managed to remove your pants, lowering them to just below your knees, the cool air hitting you and making you shake. He took note of this and pressed the massage straight against your clit, keeping it there, but not turning it on. Frustration began to build as he teased you, running the material over the spot slowly and gently. Your brows drew together at this and you gave him another deadly look.
"Give me a break, I've been waiting for this for a long time," He said, sounding breathless as he looked you up and down. "You have more scars than I thought you would. Still, you're as perfect as I imagined."
With wide eyes you wiggled free from the hand that covered your mouth. "Are you saying you've thought about me like this?" You asked, your voice strained.
"Quiet," He commanded, shoving you back down into the mattress with his free hand. "I already told you, the others might be listening."
"Seriously?" You questioned, exasperated. "Did you think I wasn't gonna react to that?'
"I knew you would," He replied, gripping your jaw with his fingers. "I just wanted to distract you so I could do this."
You opened your mouth to respond, but were quickly silenced by his hand once more as he pressed the button on the massager, effectively turning it on. A hearty groan filled your throat as your head fell back, Din's hand keeping you in place. Your knees shook as he worked you over, circling the massager before pressing it against your clit again. Whines and moans were easily muffled by his hand.
Without thinking twice, you reached out and gripped his bicep, your fingertips digging into the soft flesh that hid beneath his shirt. He grunted at your touch, lowering his face closer to yours as you squirmed beneath him. "Eyes on me, yeah? Keep your eyes on me, Y/N."
With that, you reached up to touch the side of his helmet- a silent plea for him to remove it. You begged with your eyes, since you couldn't with your mouth, hoping he would give you what you wanted so you could look him in the eye. He hesitated, his movements slowing as you pressed your hand to his helmet. Sighing, he removed his hand from your mouth, instead placing it to your cheek. "I can't, you know that."
"Please," You blurted, all dignity vanishing from your body as you begged him to show his face. "You know me-"
The massager hit a rather sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and lurch upwards. Just as it began to leave your mouth, his hand was quick to silence you.
"You've gotta be more careful than that," He scolded, pressing it harder up against you. Your back arches off the bed, causing your chest to graze his. Sighing shakily, he kept the massager stationary, sending wave after wave of pleasure washing over you. You'd all but forgotten your desire to lock eyes with him, your climax on the horizon and taking up all priority in your brain.
"That's it," He encouraged, drawing out each word. "You're being so good for me."
Broken whimpers spilled past his hand, and he didn't stop them this time. Instead, he doubled down, maintaining the same position that was driving you closer and closer to the edge. It was within reach now, just a few seconds more and you'd be coming undone beneath him. Din could sense this somehow, his face mere inches from yours.
"I know, I know," He mewled, breathing hard behind his mask. "Be a good girl, now. Give me what I want."
His words were the tipping point, sending you flying over the edge. Your climax crashed through you, your head falling back against the mattress as several stifled moans filled the air. Din hummed as you finished, as if satisfied by his work. He never wavered, his helmet stationary, a sure sign that he watched your face the entire time. His hand abandoned your mouth and you gasped, gulping in air as you came down from your high. The buzzing ceased and your body fell limp, your muscles relaxing.
Din helped you redress yourself, taking his time and tracing his fingers over your exposed skin before it vanished beneath your clothes. "So that's where you went today," He laughed gently, turning the massager over in his hand. "I knew you weren't talking to locals. You've never been a good liar."
You groaned and rolled onto your side, facing away from him. Embarrassment flooded your body, the realization of what had just happened setting in. Despite the fact that he entered the room, saw you as you pleasured yourself, and still felt the desire to help you get off, you couldn't help feeling vulnerable.
"Y/N."
His voice sounded... Different. It wasn't metallic, it didn't sound muffled or altered in any way. It was organic, and soft, and hung in the air like gentle music to your ears. The realization hit you like a brick.
His helmet was off.
As you tried to turn back around, he was quick to stop you, moving you back onto your side as he laid beside you in the bed. His breath hit your neck, whispering past your ear like a soft breeze. The sensation made you flinch, drawing in a sharp breath as his arm wrapped around your middle from behind. He pulled you close, the center of your shoulders pressing into his warm chest.
"I hope you know I did that by choice," He mumbled, his lips grazing your skin. "I didn't embarrass you, did I?"
"No, no, it's not that," You said quickly, "I just... didn't think you'd ever want to do something like that. I thought it was against your creed. It took me off guard, I guess."
"It is," Din sighed, "But if I'm breaking the rules for anyone, it should be you."
"Are you still mad at me?" You asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.
The quiet laugh that left his lips was enough to make anyone crumble at his feet. "I was never mad at you. I could tell you were getting... Frustrated, to put it mildly. I didn't blame you for being attracted to someone else. It was him I was mad at."
"You barely knew him," You replied.
"I know," Din agreed, leaning in close enough to kiss your jaw. "But he was looking at my girl."
2K notes · View notes
kookslastbutton · 9 months
Text
Best Intentions ༓ myg (m)
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✑ Summary: As vice president, you are obligated to attend your boss's wedding–you're also his friend. But while you should be focused on the newlyweds, you find yourself far too interested in the attractive best man and the woman who happens to be his plus one.
Pairing: best man!yoongi x vice president!reader
AU/genre: angst, smut, slight thriller, s2l, oneshot
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 3,753
Warnings: No infidelity, dark yoongi, sexual content, death (not major character)
sexual warnings: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, cussing, handj*b, unprotected s*x (don't follow their lead!), penetration, car sex, d*rty talk, they c*me together, yoongi has tattoos
Now Playing: Haegeum
A/N: Little nervous about this one butI haven't written fic inspired by Haegeum yet so here we go! Hope you enjoy 💞
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You watch as he brushes a few pieces of his dark locks out of his face. Never have you seen such a handsome and alluring man. He takes a seat on the barstool, nodding at the bartender in greeting. “Whiskey, neat. And a sex on the beach for the lady.”
He turns his head over his right shoulder, sparing a glance at the gentle hand resting on him. The woman who it belongs to is nothing short of radiant and confident. Her body is athletically built, her skin soft but tough. Her name is Yeong-Ja and she happens to be his plus one.
“__.” She smiles at you with ruby-red lips. “Why don’t you join us?” Her tone is thick and laced with sensuality. You fight the temptation but you feel instantly small compared to her. It’s not that you find yourself unattractive or anything but Yeong-Ja has a certain aura that’s incredibly rare.
The man, Min Yoongi, sets his gaze on you with a similar intensity. You only met the both of them about half an hour ago and they were already perfectly successful at making your bones quake. You’ve heard the idea of power couples a million times and though Min Yoongi and Yeong-Ja weren't officially together, you'd be a fool to think I'd never happen. They came here together after all.
“Thank you for the invite,” you reply, keeping your eyes as firm as you can. “But I still need to pay my respects to President Kim and his lovely new wife.”
Yeong-Ja taps Yoongi twice, signaling him to stand up. “I need to do that too actually. Why don’t we go together?”
He stays seated despite her gesture. “The drinks haven’t come out yet. I’ll wait for them if you two wanna go.” He looks at you again with his piercing, cat-like eyes. “You sure you don’t want anything __?”
You smooth down the sides of your dress, a nervous response you picked up since a teenager. You wish he wouldn’t follow the movement but he does. “Sure, maybe a strawberry daiquiri.”
Yoongi gives a nod and asks the bartender to include it in the order. “Thank you,” you say.
“Shall we?” Yeong-Ja breaks from Yoongi to near your side. “President Kim’s about to have a ton of guests giving their congratulations. It’s best we do it before the newlyweds run out of steam.”
You nod and make your way to the wedding table.
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"Congratulations President and Mrs. Kim." You bow in respect until you're pulled into a light hug.
"Thank you __," Mrs. Kim says. You'd be surprised by the hug if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have known each other since before she and your boss first started dating.
You were the one to set them up actually.
You never thought you'd have that much gull with your boss but you and Seokjin had been working together for a long time. You considered him a friend.
"I'm very happy for the both of you." You smile warmly and embrace Mrs. Kim a little tighter. "And you make such a beautiful bride."
Once broken apart, Yeong-Ja bows herself. "President Kim, Mrs. Kim." They bow in return. "I'm honored to be a guest at your wedding. I wish you both a strong, healthy marriage."
Mrs. Kim smiles wide and touches the woman on the wrist. "Thank you Yeong-Ja....I'm hoping to be a guest at your wedding as well. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you and Yoongi been seeing each other?"
Swallow it. That suddenly sick, queasy feeling in your stomach. If Yoongi was planning to get serious with Yeong-Ja, it's none of your business.
Yeong-Ja blushes and lets out a small chuckle. "Of course, I'll be sure to invite you to my wedding but I'm afraid that won't be anytime soon. Yoongi and I have only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks."
Weeks? With the chemistry they have you figured they were at least at months.
"I wouldn't be too set on it being far out into the future," Seokjin says. "One of my colleagues got married after only six months of dating his girlfriend."
"Who was that?" You mouth to which he replied with 'gguk'. Ah, makes sense now.
"Plus," Seokjin continues, "Yoongi's always talking about you and that's saying a lot considering he's pretty brief in general. Whatever you got, it's keeping his attention." He blinks up and cracks a smirk. "Speak of the devil."
Yoongi walks towards the group of you with a drink in each hand. You really need to not stare at his perfectly chiseled face, stoic eyes, and slicked-back hair. Especially after hearing that he's been practically gushing about Yeong-Ja. Still, a bitch doesn't listen.
"Strawberry daiquiri." He passes you your drink before handing Yeong-Ja hers. "And a sex on the beach." He keeps a straight face as he does this.
You notice he's taken his suit jacket off since your last interaction. His sleeves are rolled up too, veins softly protruding.
"Many thanks," you say, taking a sip. "Where's your whiskey?" You distinctively remember him asking the bartender for one but it's nowhere in sight.
Yoongi gives a quick shrug. "Already drank it."
Before another word is spoken the stereos in the reception are cranked up. Yeong-Ja takes a sip of her drink and then snakes her hand into Yoongi's arm. "Come on, we should dance. You too __."
You shake your head. Absolutely not. Dancing is fun when you're with friends but not so much with couples. You learned that the hard way many times when you'd be told that you'll all dance together.
Wrong for you to fall for that.
As soon as a slow, sensual song came on, you'd be hitting the bar or going back to your claimed table in the corner.
"No I'm good. I wanna sit and enjoy my drink for now." You lift your glass to make your point clearer.
Yeong-Ja smiles at you, then tightens her grip around Yoongi's arm and drags him to the dance floor.
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You try not to watch them.
You even try sitting in the chair facing opposite of them.
But you look like a wallflower.
Several men come up to you to ask you if you want to dance, thinking you're only waiting for an invitation. Nice of them to offer but you take no interest.
The only man you remotely have your mind on is currently being swayed by another woman. And after about twenty minutes of watching, you find out that Yeong-Ja is not only a sharp thinker and sweet talker—she's also a stunning dancer.
You can tell at first Yoongi is half-assing it but once she starts getting into the beat, his efforts double.
When it comes to the slower songs, however, you can't help but notice a shift in his posture. Yeong-Ja links both arms around his neck in an effort to close the gap between her and Yoongi. It doesn't close, however, as he keeps a safe distance.
It's odd, to say the least but maybe he's just not used to that type of intimacy yet. You continue to study the two of them until you're caught red-handed. Yoongi's eyes shift over to peer into yours.
You have to snap yourself out of your daze a few times. He's definitely just staring off due to the somber music. He's not looking at you.
Oh, shit—he is.
Yoongi traces his eyes down the lines of your dress, all the way down your bare legs and back up to your eyes. His gaze is heavy and gives you goosebumps.
You grip your glass with one hand while the other clings to the edge of your dress, earning you a half-smirk from him.
Fuck.
He's a man of few words but his non-verbals speak volumes.
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"She's not his girlfriend." Seokjin looks up at you from his seated position. Mrs. Kim was mingling with some of her close friends so you seized the chance to ask Seokjin about what had just happened. You needed a second opinion. "But they came here together so I assume they're going out. Are you sure he was giving you suggestive looks?"
"I mean, they weren't that suggestive but he definitely body-scanned me and smirked." You pause before continuing. "I'm trying not to think about it in case—uh I don't know. I'm sorry, it's your wedding day and I shouldn't be bothering you about this stuff."
"__, we've been working basically side by side for ten years. Yes I'm your boss still but right now I'd like to think we're friends. You're not bothering me, okay? And as far as Yoongi goes, just ignore it. He was likely smiling at you and it came off as a smirk. If it happens again maybe ask him about it because as far as I know, things are going good between him and Yeong-Ja." Obviously not that well if he's checking out someone else. You bite back the need to speak your mind.
"Okay," you agree. "You're right. It was likely just nothing."
"But you didn't finish your sentence." Seokjin pipes up before you return to your seat. "You're trying not to think about in case what?"
Let's see....how to reply while remaining subtle as possible. Seokjin and Yoongi are close friends so you need to choose your words very carefully.
Telling him you have interest in Yoongi when he's told you over and over again that he's seeing someone would not end well. A classic Kim Seokjin scold would be in dire order.
"....just in case I'm just being foolish or exaggerating what really happened." You say the words casually, no a trace of a fib. "But thanks Seokjin, for letting me talk to you about it."
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"Hey." Yoongi catches you in the hallway. Apparently also needed to use the restroom. You do your best to shrug off what happened earlier.
"Hi, how was dancing?" You ask stupidly.
"It was alright. Not usually my thing but I guess I didn't mind. You sure you didn't wanna join us though? Saw a few guys come up to you."
"You saw that?" And here you were thinking you were delusional for thinking Yoongi was purposefully paying attention to you. It causes a twinge of adrenaline to zap through your body. "I didn't really feel like dancing today, that's all."
For a second you and Yoongi exchange silence. You're not sure if he's done talking or if you need to fill the space with more small talk.
"I'm glad it was better for you than usual. Yeong-Ja looks like she knows what she's doing." You fake a small laugh, hoping to break the tension but Yoongi's face remains straight. "Well I should get back in there." You end up slowly walking away but he stops you.
"We don't know each other super well but, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier."
"What are you refering to?"
Yoongi gives you a 'really' look before flashing a gummy smile. It's the first time tonight you've seen him smile so fully. Your breath hitches as he continues. "I think we both know the answer to that. Don't you know how captivating you look in this dress?"
If your mouth wasn't gaping before it such as heck is now. But as giddy as the compliment makes you, you're in no way going to mess up a potentially blossoming relationship. You sure as hell hope that Yoongi isn't double-crossing Yeong-Ja, even if you do wish you'd be in her shoes a little.
"Um, not to be so forward but aren't you with Yeong-Ja? I appreciate the compliment though I'd—"
"We're not serious."
"Excuse me?" You as so utterly lost. Sure he and Yeong-Ja weren't together officially yet but they came here as each other's date. Seokjin and his wife were also making comments about their supposedly romantic relationship and she wasn't denying it so why is he coming onto you like this?
"That didn't come out right. I mean, we're not together romantically but we do work together. I asked her to come because I figured she'd be good company. Seokjin thinks we mold together well but I'm not really interested. To keep it short, I respect her as a coworker and consider her in the highest regard, professionally."
"You're not lying to me right? Because she seems really interested and I don't want to get in the way of anything. I'm not that type of woman alright?" You cross your arms reflexively.
Yoongi takes a step towards you, focused intent. "I have no reason to lie to you __. It's true Yeong-Ja may be interested but she's not the one I've spent half the night staring at."
The hairs on your neck stand straight. Blood rushes through your veins. "You should probably tell Yeong-Ja your feelings then."
"I did," Yoongi interuppts. "When we were back in there she came onto me. I thought all the slow, romantic music was getting to her but she kept trying to kiss me so I had to tell her I wasn't interested in anything beyond friendship."
"Oh, well, is she okay or—"
"She'll be fine. She's like me, not much fazes her. She's likely hitting on the next guy that takes her fancy now." Yoongi inches closer, and you take in the cologne he's wearing. It's subtle but enough to knock you out of your senses. "So you see, I'm not that kind of man either."
"Well good because I would have kicked you in the balls if you were double-crossing Yeong-Ja."
Yoongi snorts. "I'd expect nothing less. But thankfully, my balls are safe for now."
Great, now you're thinking about his balls. Yoongi's breath blows hot against your skin as the space between you seems to get narrower and narrower.
"Do you wanna get out of here for a bit?" He asks with a hoarse voice. "I was thinking about going out for a quick smoke."
"I don't smo—" Yoongi quirks a provocative brow. "Oh, " you finish, knowing full well he isn't proposing to have just a smoke.
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You shudder as he towers above you in the backseat of his Bentley. Evidently, Yoongi did well for himself. "We shouldn't be doing this here." When Yoongi proposed you to go out, you didn't expect him to be this quick to get down and dirty.
Fooling around is one thing, but fucking in the backseat of his car in the middle of a wedding is a whole new animal for you.
"No one's gonna see if that's what you're worried about. Everyone's too busy wishing the newlyweds well..." His car is short on space but Yoongi manages to remove his silk vest. The skin of his smooth chest peeks out near the collar of his dress shirt. "But if you wanna stop here then, I won't force you any further."
God this is so indecent but you want him so, so bad. His body on yours, in yours—fuck him for being this hard to resist. You grip the fabric of his shirt and tug him back down.
Yoongi takes the opportunity to sink his head near your ear. "I was hoping this would be your answer." Your eyes roll up when he places a hot, open-mouth kiss on your neck. It's not sloppy but rather controlled as if hinting that this isn't his first go around.
"Take it out for me sweetheart." He coos after a few more nips at your jaw. The look of bewilderment on your face brings out a cocky smirk. "Please?"
His eyes turn playful as he watches you fumble with his belt. "Sorry," he says. "I usually prefer doing this myself but given the position we're in, it's better you do it." You nod. "I'd also take my time with you if it weren't for the fact that we're in my car right now." Who's fault is that? You bite down your bitterness.
"I understand." You pull at his belt buckle, releasing the leather from its hold. He groans when the tips of your fingers graze his bulge. Once you unzip the front of his pants you reach forward to free his cock.
"Fuck," Yoongi breathes, his hard length pulsating in your hand. You whimper and reflexively squeeze him harder. "Shit, don't."
You feel hot all over, drunk on the pleasure he's getting from this. "But you like this," you say, moving your hand up and down his shaft. Arousal pools in your panties as you watch him struggle to gain his composure. You wouldn't be disappointed if he came in your hand from this, but Yoongi puts a stake in those plans like a tidal wave.
He reaches between his legs, suddenly yanking your hand off of him to place it above your head. "You know what I really like __?" He grabs your other hand to join it with the other. "When people listen to what their told the first time."
He pushes up the skirt of your dress, tugs your panties to the side, and thrusts himself into you in one full motion. The immediate stretch has you gasping for air. "Fuck Yoongi–" Yes, you're wet but you still need time to adjust! "Yoongi please, I need a second."
He doesn't respond with any more than husky groans as he steadies himself above you, hands clamping down on your waist. Yoongi stills himself in you, waiting for your signal to move and when you give it to him he wastes no time setting a vigorous pace.
Every push and pull sets your body on fire as his length beats inside you. You move to claw at his back, desperately needing something to grip, but your hands are thrown back down. "Leave them," he growls.
You end up clutching your wrists as your body bounces up and down the seat of the car. The friction is a little rough due to the leather material but you don't have time to think much about it as long as Yoongi keeps fucking you this good.
"Feels-ah-amazing Yoongi, fuck. How'd you get so good at this?"
"How do you think sweetheart?" He wraps one of your legs around his waist, the new angle allows him to sink deeper into your gut. Your hips arch and a few more buttons on Yoongi's dress shirt pop open.
"You have a–chest-chest tattoo?" It's only a blur and you barely get a glimpse when he leans his body forward. But over his heart is black ink in the form of what you can only guess as some kind of wild cat.
"Mhm," he grunts. "Got it when I was 19. One of those impulsive things. Fuck–" he curses feeling you clench around him. "Is this a turn-on for you? You're squeezing me so fucking hard right now."
"Yes. My attraction for you went up about 100%, I can't explain it."
He's amused, shit-eating grin on his far too handsome face. "Well lucky for you, you don't have to explain anything. Open my shirt."
You do as he says and swallow hard seeing the tattoo of a bobcat over his left pec. He can tell you want to ask about it but being that his cock is deep in your heat, he's a little preoccupied. "I'll tell you about it later when we're not you know–fucking like rabbits in the back seat of my Bentley."
You let out a small giggle. It's a wonder no one's caught you yet. Yoongi picks up the pace again, with rough thrusts and beads of sweat around his forehead. "Fuck this pussy is making me so hard. Never been in something so wet and tight in my life." You moan as his cock drags in and out of you, stimulating your g-spot only too perfectly.
"Oh god 'm gonna come Yoongi!" You can't hold back your screams anymore. He's hitting inside you so well, cock throbbing, hair sweaty, muscles tensing, and that sinful chest tattoo teasing in front of your eyes.
"Damn right you are, make this cock yours sweetheart."
Your pussy starts spasming around him. You throw your head back, feeling your tightened core close to unwinding. Yoongi's cock twitches inside you in the seconds following before you both have your release.
Yoongi takes himself out of you, cock dripping with your cum. Your breaths are heavy as you blink up at him from your reclined position. "First time fucking in a car?" he asks, monotone.
"Mhm."
"Did you like it?"
"Mhm."
"Good, I'll give you a few minutes to gather yourself."
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Once you both manage to make yourself presentable again, you head back to the reception.
"Where the fuck have you been?!" Yeong-Ja hollers at Yoongi, rushing to him through the parking lot. You're startled at her sharp tone but the closer she gets the more your stomach feels unsettled.
She doesn't give you a glance at all, her attention fully on Yoongi. "Min," she starts. Odd of her to be calling him by his last name all the sudden. "We need to leave now."
You dart your eyes at the two of them. "What-what's going on? It hasn't been that long, did something happen?" Yeong-Ja hesitates to answer so you turn to the man next to you. "Yoongi–Oh my god!" You screech when you see a glowing, red dot hovering over his heart.
Yoongi follows your line of sight. "Shit–" He curses under his breath. "Of all fucking times."
Okay, what the fuck is going on?
Yeong-Ja swiftly pulls out a gun from what appears to be a thigh holster. When she does, you spot the same bobcat tattoo on her upper thigh.
Yeong-Ja cocks the gun before aiming it to the far left. She takes the shot, the red dot instantly disappearing from Yoongi's chest.
"You don't know Yoongi very well __." Yeong-Ja lowers her gun ever so slightly. "To the outside, he's Min Yoongi, a reserved and calculative data analyst, best man to your boss Kim Seokjin. But to the inside world, he's Agust D, leader of the most feared mafia gang, Bangtan."
"I'm sorry sweetheart," Yoongi says. "I wanted to spare you from this. But now that you know our dirty little secret we can't possibly let you go."
So she's his right-hand man.
When Yoongi said they were coworkers, this was not what you were expecting.
How the fuck do you get out of this?
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Masterlist
A/N: Me through this whole thing...how do I write warnings without giving away the ending? Anyway, tysm for reading and LMK what you think 💞
Note: Pls help me decide if i should turn this into a series of keep it a one shot ➡ vote here ☺
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
950 notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 5 months
Text
Misheard, Misjudged
Lando Norris x Leclerc Reader
Genre: Angst with a pinch of spice
Summary: Lando overhears a conversation and thinks it’s about him
Warnings: Lando’s self-esteem plummets
Notes: I’m aware I have things to do but I’m doing a friend a favor
Masterlist
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Lando and the little Leclerc are everybody’s favorite couple. He clings to her every second of every day and she gets livid when her brother call her little. Younger then Arthur by a minute and she never hears the end of it.
Their families love them, the fans love them, but most importantly is that they love each other.
They met when Arthur started racing again. She was bored without her partner in crime, so Charles took her on as is social media manager. Needles to say they banter a lot. Charles’ fashion choices are horrendous at times but she loves him nonetheless.
Charles teases them all the time about how they are practically glued together. Which is probably true, considering they are like magnets in the paddock.
So in Lando’s head, it makes no sense why she would say such things about him. In their home. With her friends.
‘Sure he’s good looking, but like - is there really anything else? He’s so childish and whines like a bitch. Also, have you seen how clingy he is?”
He couldn’t listen anymore after that. Is he really that clingy? And for all intensive purposes, isn’t she also clingy? He never thought it was that bad. Sure, people tease, but who cares what they think? Or, maybe he’s just overthinking and he should just ask about it.
Scratch that - a terrible plan. Instead he shall withdrawal himself and see if it makes her happier.
The first week she looks confused and a little hurt by his actions, but she doesn’t say anything. No more initiated physical contact. No random hugs and kisses. He doesn’t cling to her during the race weekend like normal.
See! He isn’t cling! if anything, she’s definitely the more clingy one out of the two.
Week two hurt more then the first. He catches snippets of a few phone calls between her and Charles. She’s locked in the bathroom and her voice is cracking. “I don’t understand what I did, Charlie.”
Doesn’t understand what she did? You can’t just say things about a person and expect everything to be okay after. Why doesn’t she talk to him about it? If she wanted more space he would’ve just rather have talked about it then have overheard the love of his life shattering his heart into pieces.
He turns her back to her in bed starting week three. She looks tired over the next few days. Not just yawning, but the dark circles under red eyes screams that something is wrong.
she starts leaving sticky notes on his things, on the counters, the insides of cabinets, and even plastered all over thee mirror.
He ignores them. Yet his mind starts to wonder if maybe he should just ask her why. But it’s not like she talked to him, so why she he talk to her now?
He wonders again when he catches Max glaring at him.
And again when Oscar grows concerned.
And then when George gives a PowerPoint presentation with how to communicate properly.
Yeah, ok - so this wasn’t the right way to go about this. He really wishes George and his stupid PowerPoint had come earlier.
The icing on the cake is when he comes home one day and passes Charles as he’s leaving. He doesn’t look happy at all, and honestly, Lando can’t blame him.
He goes straight to bed, face buried in the pillow. Limbs tossed dramatically like a Disney princess in despair.
“Lando?” Her small voice shreds every ounce of strength he has left. She sits on the bed beside him. He doesn’t look up and she sighs heavily. “Please talk to me.”
When he does finally look at her. Truly, for the first time in months, he sees just how broken she looks.
“What’s there to talk about?” He curses himself and his tone because she flinches away at it.
“Why are you avoiding me? I don’t understand what I did…”
He scoffs. “Don’t know what you did? Last month at your little get together? Calling me a clingy whiny bitch behind my back?” He chokes on the last part.
She looks at him, head tilted in confusion. The same look she gives when he’s trying to read directions. Confused, loving, patient. Why is she smiling?
“You didn’t hear the beginning of that did you?”
“No.” He pouts.
“Lando, love, light of my life - that was about Charles.”
His entire body freezes. It’s true that her friends like Charles and she hates when the fawn over him. Oh, he’s been an idiot. An Absolute asshole.
“I’m so sorry.” He throws himself at her and every ounce of anxiety over the past month is washed away as soon as her fingertips touch his skin.
“Charles is terribly clingy to everybody and he’s my brother. Of course he’s a whiny bitch in my eyes.” He would respond but his brain is mush at her hands in his hair.
“I just got so in my head. I’m so sorry I didn’t talk to you - George gave me the whole lecture about proper communication.”
“I Know. He said you were hopeless.”
“How encouraging of him.”
Lando pulls her on top of him. Her warmth, her skin, her full body weight is everything he ever needs to survive.
“I can’t believe you’re smiling at me.”
“I’m mad at you, but maybe we can make up.” She raises her eyes suggestively.
“I think I can make that happen.”
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