#when he wants help.. when he needs to make amends…
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Banchetto: Insalata
Papa Emeritus III x Reader
AO3 | Contorno | Masterpost
A caprese salad consists of so few ingredients but as long as they are fresh and ripe they bring the perfect balance. For variety you pick an assortment of tomatoes, blood red heirlooms, green beefsteak and orange roma. The visual appeal of the assorted colours, shapes and texture more than make up for the non traditional choices. Freshly made mozzarella as well, all evenly sliced and then already the preparation is almost complete.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
You are reading. Well, you are trying to read but unfortunately the man sitting across from you is proving far too much of a distraction. It was mid morning, breakfast long since eaten and cleared away. You had joined him as you did so often now and it was barely creeping towards time to begin thinking about lunch. Copia had returned your notes and you were still in the process of working through them, adding sticky notes with your amendments into the recipes to help you when time came to make them. That’s what you should be doing at least.
Instead every few seconds you find your gaze pulled back to him. He is also reading, the glasses he only just admitted to needing perched on the end of his nose. They slip further down every time he scrunches his face at whatever it is he is reading and you have lost count of how many times he has paused to push them up carelessly. Every now and then he notices the smudges left by his fingers and removes them completely to wipe them on his handkerchief as he shoots you a smile. He had let his hair air dry this morning so it falls in soft waves over his forehead. The muted sunlight catches in his silver roots every time he pushes his hair out of his eyes. You think to tell him how good he looks at this moment but you don’t want to break the comfortable silence.
It’s sickeningly domestic but you can honestly say you have never been happier. The shift was subtle at first as you had spent a great deal of time in his rooms anyway but in a matter of days that time grew longer and longer until you rarely left on more than an errand from morning to evening. He would ask you to sit with him as he worked, join him for meals, linger in the kitchen as you prepared and even once attempting to help you clean the dishes. That is until he ended up dropping a plate in his inattention, the resounding crash making your heart skip a beat in a much less pleasant way then it usually did around him. You couldn’t even begin to be annoyed with him though, his apologetic puppy eyes forcing you to let him off with only a banishment to the kitchen table and a kiss to the tip of his nose.
Affection was easier now, not always so underlined with that awkward tension you had almost become used to. He liked to touch you. To lace your fingers together across the table when you ate, rest his hand on your waist when you stood together, play with a lock of your hair as you spoke, press a chaste kiss to hand or your cheek in passing. You had been hesitant at first to return his affection so boldly but the way he would glow when you reached for him first, his wide smile emphasising your favourite creases at the corners of his eyes, was enough to override your self consciousness.
There was still tension there, hot little frissons if you look into his eyes a bit too long or his body rests a little too close. Part of you wants to chase it but you no longer felt the need to rush. Although unspoken it seems you both chose to relish in this period of getting to know each other better, talking about your likes, dislikes, views and opinions or just existing in each other's company. It is comfortable in a way you never imagined you could be with him but you are more sure now than ever that ‘Papa Emeritus III’ who had led the Ghost project and the church was only a very superficial part of who he was.
There’s a childlike glee in him every time he tells you stories of his life peppered with ridiculous puns and dorky jokes that feels so far removed from the persona you had thought you had known previously. And yet you can see how he thrived as a performer and took to that role so naturally. He puts his whole self into recreating the tale he is telling with animated hands, exaggerated expressions and often silly voices whether he is talking about his misspent youth, rising through the clergy ranks or his touring adventures. You would start to feel very uninteresting in comparison until he would start to tease stories from you. Your worst cooking disasters that have him crying with laughter and disbelief that you could ever make a potato explode. But when he asks you of your family and your childhood you see a sad wistfulness in his expression that makes your heart hurt and you hope that one day he might open up about some of the harder parts of his life as well.
The tolling of the 11 o’clock bell brings an end to your romantic reverie. It is time to return to reality and begin thinking about lunch. You uncurl yourself from the armchair, your movements capturing his attention. He beckons you towards him with a curled finger as he places his book down on the settee beside him. You should go straight to the kitchen but as he has distracted you all morning anyway what is the harm in a few more minutes. You are sure your eagerness is obvious as before you know it you are sitting in his lap with his arms around you.
‘Where are you off to cara mia,’ he says once you are settled. You slide his glasses up and into his hair, pulling the long fringe out of his face and you can’t resist letting your fingers run through the length until you can play with the strands at the nape of his neck. ‘I have been enjoying you watching me so attentively.’
‘And I was enjoying the view,’ you tease. His deep chuckle rumbles through his chest pleasantly where you are pressed against him. He leans up for a kiss, unable to keep the pleased smile from his face. Your lips ghost over his, barely indulging him but leaning down to continue talking in his ear. ‘I am about to start working on your lunch.’
‘How about an amuse bouche first mia cuocoina?’ He is irresistible when he is like this so you indulge him. You press kisses along a teasing path, his temple, his sharp cheekbone and the tip of his nose before finally reaching his lips. He closes the remaining distance between you impatiently and just as you are about to deepen the kiss a loud knocking rings out through the room. He drops his head against the back of the settee with a huff of annoyance and you have to forcibly remove his hands from your hips for you to be able to get up. You open the door to find a ghoul waiting for you on the other side holding a basket and a note.
‘From Papa Primo, for you Sister.’ They hand it to you before abruptly turning to leave and you see Terzo’s head shoot up in interest as you close the door and turn around.
‘What is he writing to you about?’ He glares over the back of the chair, watching you put the basket down on his desk.
‘Let me open it and I will tell you,’ you retorted. The basket is heavy and you have no doubt that this is yet another offering from Primo’s greenhouses. He hauls himself up from the settee with an exaggerated groan as you unfold the thick paper and read.
Sorella it is about time my brother gets out of his rooms and I suspect you will have more success convincing him then I. If I could prevail on you to make us a light lunch and bring it along with him to the rose garden I would be very appreciative. Secondo and Copia will also be joining us as well as yourself if you would do us the honour.
I will expect you both at noon.
Primo
Terzo. It will be good to see you. Please do not give the sorella any trouble and do as you are bid.
Handing the note to him you dig into the basket. Underneath the fragrant bunches of fresh herbs you find it’s filled to the brim with ripe tomatoes in a variety of sizes and colours, probably hand picked from the vine that very morning.
‘Why do you get a longer note than me?’ He grumbles, squinting at his brother's cursive scrawl, clearly forgetting to drop his glasses back down onto his nose. Circling around him you knock them gently out of his hair so he can at least see even if they land a little crookedly.
‘Lunch is going to be alfresco today,’ you call over your shoulder as you head into the kitchen to get started, not giving him any chance to argue. With less than an hour to prepare this is not going to be your most elaborate creation but you have some freshly made mozzarella and along with Primo’s offering you have an idea that should be perfect.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
The dressing for this salad could be as simple as a drizzle of balsamic vinegar but you do prefer to add a little more flavour. To an old jam jar you add olive oil, honey, freshly pressed garlic and of course the main ingredient, balsamic vinegar. Why a jam jar you may ask? Well the trick with a vinaigrette is understanding that the separate ingredients don’t really want to mix together. You can stir it, whisk it, even blend it but unless you are serving it straight away the mixture will begin to separate. You prefer to give it a good shake to mix everything and your trusty jam jar allows you to do that right before the dish is served.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Prepping a quick salad with what Primo had sent you takes around half an hour but you are done with time still to spare. Terzo had disappeared to his bedroom after grumbling to himself about his ‘fratello esigente’ and was yet to return so you took the time to grab some leftovers to make this lunch a little more substantial. There was half a loaf of bread that you sliced up, some stuffed peppers and olives, cuts of ham and cheese and even some pepper taralli that had become a constant request since you had first made them all those weeks ago.
With everything that would fit packed away in the little basket you go to find Terzo who had yet to reappear. Even with the amount of time you were in each other's company you still hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in his bedroom. You understood, you supposed. It was his one sanctuary away from everything but you hoped one day soon he might invite you even there. The door is open when you round the corner and you see him standing before his mirror, a pile of shirts sitting on the bed next to him.
‘I’m ready to go Terzo,’ you say after knocking on the door frame. He turns to you with a frown on his face but your attention is drawn to his open shirt. His dark chest hair and olive skin contrast beautifully with the stark white of the shirt he is trying on. He starts to button it from his mid chest leaving an enticing glimpse but you can see his frustration build as he gets further and further down. His once flat stomach now protrudes slightly from his waistband, not enough to have the buttons pull but the shape of his body is visible. He looks incredible.
‘I can not go out like this cara mia,’ he says, turning back to his reflection to scrutinise his outfit.
‘Why not?’ you ask. You cross the room coming to a stop behind him so you are looking at the same thing he is in the mirror.
‘Look at me,’ he gestures up and down the length of his body before settling his hands where he seems to be most self conscious. You can’t have him thinking he looks anything less than irresistible for even a moment.You wrap your hands around his waist sliding them under his own,where he is holding his belly. You caress the soft swell back and forth while you try and catch his gaze in the reflection.
‘I am and I see a happy healthy man who has enjoyed delicious food made for him by someone who lo .. cares about him very much.’ His eyes flash in surprise before he looks over himself again from your perspective, a smug smile growing on his lips. You hope he is just about to accept your compliment and didn’t catch your little slip but you end that train of thought there.
‘Oh is that so?’ His spark has returned, your compliments feeding his usual confidence in his attractiveness. But there is something else in his expression like he has just figured something out. ‘You like me like this, eh?’
‘I like you. Full stop.’ He preens but you sense that he wants to push you further. Hopefully the time limit you are on will stall him for now. You aren’t sure that you are quite ready to admit how much you have enjoyed feeding him up.
‘Mmm ok,’ he responds thoughtfully, turning in your arms and pulling you flush against his soft body. He kisses you soundly, chasing your lips every time you try to pull back. Before long though his playful mood shifts as he steps back. He takes your hands in his but otherwise maintains some space between you. ‘There is something we need to talk about though before we go.’
‘What is it?’ There is a hint of worry in his voice but you try not to let yourself speculate. You needed to just listen to what he had to say.
‘Please don’t misunderstand me when I say this.’ He pauses for but a moment to press a kiss to your knuckles trying to reassure you of his sincerity. ‘Until very recently I have never truly felt my life was my own. I had a set path that I was to walk down and very big shoes to fill as leader and well, you have seen my brothers.’ He is torn between a fondness and frustration that you can understand. ‘No matter what I do I am their fratellino.’ He locks his eyes on yours willing you to understand. ‘This, I mean what we have, I don’t want their input not yet.’
‘I understand Terzo.’ It is a relief to know this was all he was concerned about. You had seen for yourself how they had treated him during the intervention you had been witness to. Even though you wholeheartedly agreed with them at that time. You can understand why he would want to keep what you have private, especially so early in whatever it was that was happening. Not to mention you had your own reasons for not wanting them to know.
‘You do?’ You can’t help but smile at the relief on his face.
‘Of course. I think you are right.’ You had long since stopped worrying about the distinction between your work for him and your relationship but you are well aware of how it might look to others. How unprofessional you were being. ‘Your brothers asked me to do a job and they might not be happy to know that I have taken on additional duties.’ You say with a wink, trying to lighten his mood further. You’re rewarded with his deep rumbling laugh as he pulls you close again.
‘Si, si. We should review these additional duties. I think I have some additions.’ He leers at you and you can feel your cheeks heat up in response.
‘Stop that we will be late.’ You swat at his chest and get to hear him laugh yet again but it really is time to get going. ‘And I am going to need your help carrying all this food.’
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Now for your favourite part, making it all look pretty. You lay out your slices of mozzarella first, randomly placing them across the large tray you are using for this dish. The slices of beefsteak and heirloom tomatoes next trying to keep the colours balanced. You use the bright orange roma tomatoes to fill in the remaining gaps and then all that is left is fresh basil leaves tucked between the slices.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
‘Sorella you spoil us!’ Primo says helping you unpack the basket onto the table that had been set up. You had never paid much mind to this shady corner of the rose garden but it does seem like the perfect place for an alfresco lunch. The wrought iron dining set is well kept with only specs of rust appearing on some of the joints between the ornate decorations. Five chairs are positioned around half of the oval table giving everyone a view of the garden. The table had already been set with a plain table cloth thrown over, shining silver cutlery, pretty floral plates and a bottle of red wine, already been decanted, a lace cap sitting over the opening to discourage any tempted bugs.
‘Oh it was nothing at all Papa. Most of this I had already prepared and the salad was simple enough.’ He smiles at you warmly, his light paints emphasising the creases of his expression. He had taken the centre seat and he gestures you into the seat to his right, patting your shoulder gently. You aren’t entirely sure why you have been invited to this family gathering but it would be rude to question his invitation.
Secondo is sitting to his left already sipping on a glass of wine but he offers you a smile, a subtle lift of the corner of his mouth before his attention is drawn to Terzo. You glance to your right where he is sitting looking uncomfortable, even hidden behind his dark glasses. He seems to be staring into the nearest bush trying to ignore the presence of his brothers. As you take a seat you try to subtly rest your hand on his knee and give him a gentle squeeze, about the only reassurance you can, given your agreement not to give away the nature of your relationship to his family quite yet. He glances at you offering you a weak smile but he rests his hand over yours before clearing his throat.
‘Is Copia too busy to join us now?’ He asks, sounding oddly formal but finally looking in Primo’s direction.
‘He said he would be here,’ he replies calmly as he pours everyone a glass of wine, topping up Secondo’s last. After accepting his Terzo slumps back into his seat nursing his glass. Primo tuts at him. ‘Vieni adesso, Renzo, non vorrai essere scontroso con il nostro ospite, vero?’ He sits up abruptly lifting his glasses so he can glare at Primo.
‘Quindi è per questo che l'hai invitata? Quindi mi comporterei bene?’ Secondo tries to conceal a laugh at his Italian outburst which only earns him a share of Terzo’s glare.
‘I have my reasons fratelino, but let’s not argue today.’ He looks at him sternly. ‘Por favore.’
‘Nessun tipo di compagnia potrebbe farlo comportare da adulto,’ Secondo mutters but whatever he says seems to upset both Primo and Terzo. ‘Ey!’ He shouts, rubbing the back of his head where Primo had just administered a quick slap.
‘None more of that! From either of you, capisce?’ He points at the two brothers waiting for them both to nod in agreement before sitting back down. The four of you sit in silence just waiting for Copia’s arrival but just when it begins to get unbearable you hear a commotion heading towards you.
‘Sorry I am late,’ Copia calls out breathlessly as he rushes around the corner in a blur of red. ‘Meeting with Sister Imperator ran over,’ he pants collapsing into the chair next to Secondo. He had forgone his cassock today but was still buttoned up in one of his formal suits in spite of the seasonal weather. Clearly one of the perks of being a retired Papa was being able to dress more casually. You are not sure if you had ever seen them dressed this casually during any of their reigns.
‘Everything has gotten so behind with the Ghost project since, well…’ He trails off glancing at Terzo. He clears his throat, deciding not to continue with that line of conversation. ‘Terzo, Papa, you are looking well.’
‘Thank you Cardinal, you look like you could do with a good night's sleep.’ He smiles but it is sharp, Copia’s misstep digging at his still sore pride.
‘Well, shall I tell you all what is on the menu?’ You interrupt not wanting the awkwardness to linger any longer.
‘Yes please do, Sorella,’ Primo says, relieved at your quick thinking.
‘What you sent over was absolutely perfect for a caprese salad because just yesterday I had made some fresh mozzarella so that is the main attraction of today’s lunch but I also brought some leftovers we had to make sure no one left hungry.’ You may be waffling slightly but they all listen politely as you point out all the separate dishes.
‘Yes I see my fratello has not been going hungry of late.’ At least Secondo waited until after you finished but you watch nervously for Terzo’s response but he just relaxes back in his chair smirking at his brother.
‘You are not wrong I have been kept most satisfied by Sorella.’ His double entendre makes you wince slightly but you just hope they mark it down to Terzo being Terzo.
‘No need to tell us that we can see quite well, ' he says, patting his own distinctly flatter stomach. ‘Primo you were right to call us here today. We need to help Terzo by eating all of this food so he doesn’t have to.’
‘Ah ha,’ Terzo laughs. ‘So this is another intervention then no?’ Primo shakes his head but doesn’t intervene this time, deciding that this back and forth was mostly good natured.
‘Si, an intervention for your growing waistline fratello,’ On the surface it is harsh but you can tell this is familiar ground for them, teasing and competing to one up each other. You imagine there were many similar conversations had when Secondo lost his hair.
‘I do not mind so much,’ he shrugs, resting his arm on the back of your chair and letting his fingertips graze your shoulder. ‘I think there are plenty of people who enjoy a well fed man.’ You feel your cheeks heat as he says it remembering back to your conversation and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face, gaging your reaction. If you look at him now you are sure your cover will be blown. Instead you hide your embarrassment by serving out salad between your plates but you miss the pointed looks shared between Secondo and Copia.
There is a period of peace across the table as they all enjoy their food, the only conversation a series of compliments as they work their way through everything you brought. You are glad you decided to bring all the leftovers as you watched Primo using the last slices of bread to dip into the dressing, the only remains of the caprese salad and Copia groaning and rubbing at his stomach as he polishes off the last of the stuffed olives.
‘I can see how you got so well fed Papa,’ he smiles in your direction. ‘I feel as if I could burst but I still don’t want to stop eating.’ You smile at his praise but you are pleased to see them all nodding in agreement.
‘Luckily for you Cardinal, all that is left is some taralli.’ You offer them each one, finishing off the last of your supply.
‘You are lucky I didn’t know she had packed up this,’ Terzo grumbles. ‘Giving my favourite to these idioti.’
‘I will make you some more Papa, don’t worry,’ you reassure him. ‘I think I have the recipe down perfectly now if I do say so myself.’
‘Where did you get the recipe, Sorella?’ Secondo asks. He looks down at the taralli in his hand. ‘I can’t say I am an expert like Terzo here, but these taste exactly like the ones I remember. The ones your Madre used to send us, before.’ Before what you wonder? You glance between Terzo and Secondo but this time it seems they are sharing a fond memory instead of making digs at each other.
‘I just found it online after Papa mentioned he would like them.’ You glance at Terzo but he doesn’t try to stop your white lie.
‘It’s a shame you don’t have any of her recipes Terzo,’ He thinks aloud while eating his last bite. ‘I’m sure she had made the best food I had ever eaten.’
‘It is a shame, yes,’ Terzo shifts uncomfortably in his seat. ‘You know we weren’t allowed to keep anything from before.’ You look at Primo but he is staring down at his plate in defeat.
‘For what it is worth I am sorry ragazzi,’ He squeezes Secondos forearm and offers Terzo a sad smile. You feel like an intruder in this moment and as your eyes meet Copia’s you think he might feel the same. That is until you notice him tilting his head and looking at you deep in thought. You suspect piecing together the translations you asked him to look at with the conversation he had just heard. He takes in a breath looking like he is about to speak but you shake your head as subtly as you can until he clicks his mouth closed. That is a conversation for later.
‘Sorella, thank you for allowing us to share in your exquisite food,’ Primo says, drawing a line under the conversation that had just ended.
‘It is no problem at all Papa.’ You start to gather up the dishes, wishing you had brought another tray so you could give Primo back his basket.
‘No no, leave the tidying to us please,’ he fusses, taking the pile of plates from your hands and handing them to a disgruntled Secondo. ‘Seeing how you convinced Terzo to actually come outside, why don’t you two go for a walk.’ There is a twinkle in his eye you are sure you have seen before. If the two of you hadn’t been so careful you might think he knew there was something between you.
‘What do you say Papa?’ You feel like you finally have permission to properly look at him, and he looks breathtakingly handsome in the warm sun. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’
‘If it gets us out of doing dishes then I am in,’ he says, almost jumping up from his chair.
‘It was good to see you Terzo,’ Primo says to him so softly it could have been missed.
‘It was good to see you all too,’ he matches Primo’s tone looking at all three of the men still sitting at the table for a moment more before turning to you with a dazzling smile. ‘Come now Sorella lets escape while we still can.’
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
The dressing you add last right at the point of serving. The jar has one last good shake before you remove the lid and pour it evenly over the whole salad. For some extra flair you start pouring at the centre and swirl until all the dressing is used.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
‘So that went well right?’ You are some way away from the patio so you risk moving closer, brushing your shoulders together but he doesn’t hesitate taking your hand in his.
‘Ah I suppose those nosey stronzos,’ he grumbles but there is no real bite to it, a reluctant smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
‘You know what I think?’ He only hums absentmindedly in reply, eyes following a butterfly as it dances amongst the flowers. ‘I think they missed you.’ He tips his head towards you giving you what you suspect is supposed to be an intimidating side eye but it misses its mark entirely when all you can see is the soft affection in his eyes and the sun shining off the silver grey strands running through his hair. ‘And I think you missed them too.’
‘Bah,’ he gestures with his free hand picking up his pace as if to storm off but keeping his grip firm on you so you are forced to come with him. ‘Think you know me so well eh cara?’ It is a challenge but a playful one. There was a moment that you worried that the teasing and prodding of his brothers might have made him withdraw again but it seems that was not the case. ‘Let us see, where in this garden do you think is my favourite place?’ He stops in the middle of the path reeling you back towards him but he drops your hand to fold his arms over his chest. He thinks he has stumped you, you can tell by the smug look he is failing to conceal but you are certain you know the answer.
‘Do I get any clues?’ You ask. He thinks for a moment, tapping at the dimple of his chin.
‘It is the reason I insisted on the rooms I have.’ Maybe he thinks he is being cryptic but now you know for sure, but you don’t want to let on quite yet.
‘Ok so it is near your quarters.’ You affect a look of exaggerated deep thought and he grins at you, glad that you are playing along. Wandering slightly away from him you look about you as if looking for more clues all the while ignoring his suppressed chuckles. When the two of you spend time in his little kitchen, especially now, you spend most of your time stealing looks at one another. So often he has caught him watching you over the rim of his coffee mug except from when his attention is caught just outside his window. Which not only gave you the chance to admire him as you so enjoy doing, but it also gave you a very good idea about his favourite part of the garden. Just in view of his window was a sculptural fountain depicting the Temptation of Eve.
‘Mmmm you are getting warm,’ he teases as you start to lead him back towards that part of the Abbey.
‘Anything else?’ You are just about to enter the walled garden when he catches up to you. He slides his arm around your waist and pulls you back against him and then lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back.
‘It’s almost as lovely to look at as you,’ he whispers in your ear. You have to try to suppress the shivers that work your way down your spine but he is pressed so close you are sure he can feel it.
‘Charmer,’ you chide, stepping away towards the centre of the square. ‘Stop trying to distract me.’ He reels you back in until he can rest his chin on your shoulder. The fountain dominates the space, the nude figure intertwined with the vicious looking serpent while holding a perfect apple, poised to take a bite.
‘You can see the fountain from the kitchen,’ you state matter of fact. You can see the very window from where you are standing visible amongst the trailing plants that climb the Abbey walls.
‘Si and from my bedroom.’ He points towards the larger window at the end of the building as you try to orient the layout in your mind.
‘Oh it’s like that is it,’ you tease.
‘Hush I am trying to be sincere,’ he chides but there is no bite to it, not when he skims a kiss against your cheek.
‘My apologies Papa.’ He clears his throat, the sound jarring in your otherwise soft conversation. ‘Terzo,’ you correct yourself. Happy now he nudges you forward until you are both standing at the edge of the splash pool and you watch for a moment, the ripples overlapping the reflection of the two of you in the water.
‘Tell me cara mia, what brought you to this life?’ He leads you towards a bench carved into the wall surrounding this part of the garden, helping you to sit comfortably before taking a seat himself.
‘To the Church of Satan you mean?’ It has been a long time since you thought of your life before the Ministry.
‘Mmm,’ he hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
‘I was raised in the Christian Church,’ you begin. ‘For the first say fifteen years of my life that is all I knew. As I got older though I found myself questioning. Everything I wanted went against what I was taught and I just couldn’t understand why all these arbitrary rules were put in place to stop people being themselves.’ He nods along giving you his full attention.
‘The arguments I had with my parents when I told them I wanted to go to culinary school, well it’s laughable now but I felt like my life was ending before it had even started. They were talking about me getting married and starting a family when all I wanted to do was learn and travel and live.’ Remembering that time fills you with that same frustration. They never were able to give you an answer other than it was God’s will and that was not enough for your questioning mind.
‘So I left. I did everything I wanted to do and then one day I was working at a festival.’ He snorts, interrupting you for the first time.
‘I can’t imagine you in a burger van,’ he sniggers to himself. You knock his shoulder with yours but that only makes him laugh harder.
‘I was cooking for the VIP guests, thank you very much!’ You reply haughtily. In all honesty there was nothing wrong with working in a burger van, good food is good food, but you dread to think what mental image he has conjured up of you. ‘And that's where I saw Ghost for the first time and spoke to Papa Primo.’
‘Primo recruited you?’ He looks shocked and you are surprised he didn’t already know.
‘Well I think it was more like I volunteered and he accepted,’ you explain. ‘He had requested some wacky off menu dish and I somehow managed to make something passable and he came to thank me. I joked about his costume and how I might consider joining if I ever found a real Church of Satan.’
‘And he told you about this place.’ he says thoughtfully.
‘He did! I didn’t believe him at first but I came to visit first for a week or two, but it was like as soon as I walked in the doors it felt like I had found my place.’ You had felt at home for the first time in a long long time.
‘What about your parents?’ He asks. ‘What do they think about you coming here?’
‘It took them a long long time to accept me straying from the life they wanted for me, even though they still don’t like it.’ They had only really accepted it when you had found success which always seemed ironic to you. ‘My being here? We just don’t speak of it. I’m sure they told all their church friends that I decided to join an obscure convent.’ It was a game you liked to play every now and then, wondering what they said when people at their church asked after you.
‘Ha! But here you are getting seduced by Satanic Popes,’ he lifts his eyebrows, clearly proud of his success in corrupting you from your fictional convent.
‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’ You roll your eyes at him but you are relieved that he joined you in finding humour in your strained relationship with your family. But it was his turn to share. ‘Now tell me why this is your favourite place.’
‘I used to come here when I felt lost.’ He looks down at his feet kicking at some lose stones. ‘When you have lost your way there is no one better than the Mother of Sin to help you remember what is important.’ It is a lot for him to admit given his leading role in the church. Many wouldn’t ever believe a man in his position could have ever had doubts.
‘The bible says she was tricked into eating the apple, that her weak feminine mind was so easily warped by the serpent. But I think she made a choice. Perhaps she realised that if you are threatened and scared into ignorance you will never be free and that people deserve to choose for themselves what to do and what to believe.’ You sense his beliefs are as personal as they are philosophical. ‘Especially when so many things that bring people joy are supposed sins.’
You are reminded of sitting in the chapel and listening to him preach every word reaffirming your faith. He was an incredible leader and it makes your heart ache for him that he was removed from that position in such a humiliating way. You don’t voice this though. You have no doubt that these very same thoughts plague him but he is doing so much better now then when you had first properly met.
‘Enough preaching for one day though I think,’ he laughs trailing off when he realises how long he has been talking and as much as you would happily listen to him talk for hours you let him leave the topic aside. ‘Where is your favourite place in the garden cara mia?’
‘Well that is easy.’ You don’t need to think for even a moment. ‘It’s the moon garden.’ He tilts his head in surprise. ‘I didn’t appreciate it at first, having all white flowers made no sense to me. One of the most beautiful things about flowers is the vivid rainbow of colours. But then one night I was leaving your quarters and I was on the verge of going to Primo and telling him I couldn’t do it.’ You remember that time well even though so much has changed since. Having to fight the urge to quit every time he rejected another meal. ‘You hadn’t eaten a thing and I was so upset with myself.
‘I owe you an apology, I think for being so difficult.’ He mumbles but the last thing you want to do is make him feel bad.
‘No I mean you had your reasons,’ you say trying to reassure him.
‘Maybe I did, I felt that I had nothing to live for I suppose.’ It hurts to hear but it isn’t a surprise that that is how he had felt. ‘But I could only stomach so much self pity before I got hungry.’ He winks at you and even this serious conversation doesn’t stop your instinctive blush spreading across your cheeks. 'Thank you for being patient with me.’ He follows the bloom of colour across your face with the tip of his fingers, his sincerity only making it worse.
‘It was worth it,’ you admit, lowering your voice to match his soft tone. ‘Something told me I should walk through the gardens that night so I did and then it was like I had walked into another world. Every single white flower was glowing in the moonlight and I had to just sit and eventually I knew that everything was going to be alright.’
‘And was it?’ His hand cups your face and even such an innocent touch has your heart racing as you work up the courage to say what you wish to.
‘The next day was the day you left me the recipe book.’ The moment feels fragile as he looks into your eyes searchingly. It feels good to have cleared the air of so many of your unspoken things. It’s probably inadvisable to allow him this close outside of his quarters but he looks as vulnerable as you feel right now and there is only one thing you can think to do. This kiss reminds you of the first time in the kitchen. The simple action of pressing your lips to his feels so intimate and for you at least, saying things you are far from ready to speak out loud.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Hi hello yes it is me actually updating. Please no one die of shock. I had about 1000 words of this sitting here for the last six months and then suddenly I managed to write it all in the last three days. I want to promise there won't be another six months until the next chapter but who knows what will happen to my brain. Thank you to @ghostchems and @da-rulah for letting me talk about this endlessly and @writingjourney for cheering me on even when I wouldn't tell her any spoilers haha
I hope you all enjoyed and I will be starting a tag list over again because I have no idea who might even want to read this fic anymore so please just let me know if you want to be tagged in the future chapters 💜💜💜
#papa emeritus iii x reader#terzo x reader#the band ghost fic#the band ghost fanfic#terzo#papa emeritus iii#my writing#banchetto
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I don’t think we appreciate that Peter Parker is one of Matt Murdock’s few safe spaces enough
#do you ever think about how Peter is someone Matt thinks of#when he wants help.. when he needs to make amends…#when he needs to trust someone who’s like him#I do 😭#spideydevil
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whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut)
warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust
a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly.
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him.
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting.
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?”
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.”
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.”
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table.
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him.
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.”
He circles to the foot of the bed.
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?”
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease.
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes.
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces.
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered.
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.”
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you.
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.”
Your eyes narrow.
“Don’t patronize me.”
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you.
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.”
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.”
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip.
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.”
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?”
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough.
“I like hearing you say yes.”
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate.
“Yes, you can take them off.”
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed.
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.”
“My attitude is your fault.”
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.”
“Spencer,” you grit.
He slings your ankles over his shoulders.
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.”
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?”
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his.
“Are you just saying that?”
Another kiss.
“No! Mean it,” you whimper.
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds.
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur.
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous.
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.”
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message.
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?”
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you.
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!”
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak.
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth.
“You can take it for a minute, honey,”
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth.
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on.
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.”
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.”
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.”
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.”
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.”
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.”
“Don’t go spreading it around.”
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer.
“You’re not even a little scared of me?”
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes.
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.”
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again.
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts.
“Oh, do I?”
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut
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Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader
Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him.
Word Count: Over 5.7k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#dom!bucky barnes x reader#dom!bucky barnes x sub!reader#indulgence au#bucky barnes#dom!bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader
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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.7
07 : APOLOGIES & COMFORT
CHPT. SUM. : sirius and remus are both very stubborn and need you to help them make amends, thankfully james is there
REQUEST. : could i request a hurt/comfort blurb with poly!marauders in the heroes in tattoos series where r is having really bad cramps and they comfort her- maybe when they're busy with clients and she doesn't want to disturb them but they notice? - requested by an anon (i had to make some tweaks, i hope you don't mind, my darling)
TAGS. : modern au, muggle au, tattoo artist!sirius black ; tattoo artist!james potter ; piercer!remus lupin ; hurt/comfort ; fluff ; mvp james ; james becomes a menace though so is he really the mvp? ; wolfstar fluff ; making up ; reader is also an mvp ; accidents happen ; period things~ ; remus is on the brink ; somebody save this man! ; no! somebody save reader from this man! ; assumes that reader does not take medication to regulate her periods ; assumes that reader wears sanitary pads for her periods
LENGTH : 4.3k
← PREV. : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES | SERIES M.LIST
“Sirius…” Remus sighs as he sits across from you and the man in question.
“If you have a problem, I hope you know that I don’t care,” you feel the tattooist smirk against your temple as he presses another searing kiss into your skin. The tension from the room hasn’t fully dissipated yet, however, most of the fiction was swept aside leaving the air clear enough for a more civil conversation.
With Sirius’ insistence, you were left no choice but to sit in his lap as Remus sits across from you. This left James to sit all on his lonesome, occupying the grandfather chair to your left as a warm smile reveals his asymmetrical dimple, directed solely at you.
Remus groans in frustration and stands to his full height in order to pull his sleeveless sweater off. Sirius peppers light kisses along the column of your neck but it isn’t quite enough to distract you from the image of Remus undoing the top buttons of his button-up shirt nor the way he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows - a weak attempt at trying to cool down from the heat of the previous encounter.
You’re tempted to look down once again but are too embarrassed to do so; the images that pervade your mind are too inappropriate and they taint the gentle and kind image you have of Remus… Although, maybe that isn’t too bad. A gentle giant masking an indelicate second face was quite attractive in your eyes. Maybe he’ll finally suit the rouge-ish image that comes to mind when you take in his many tattoos, which were often suppressed by his soft, dark academia-inspired fashion.
Massaging away some of the tension in his taut wrists, his large and veiny hands on full display, Remus sits back down with a frown, “This is a fucking mess—”
“—you’re a fucking mess,” Sirius shoots back, a mischievous hint in his tone as the heat in your cheeks continue to increase until you’re positive you have steam steadily rising out of your ears.
“This is serious, Sirius,” Remus calls his name almost mockingly and the icy stare Sirius sends him in return is so icy you feel the chill run down your spine without having to look.
“Oh, I am serious, don’t you know who I am?” before the tension could rise to dangerous levels again, you launch yourself off of Sirius’ lap, willing the butterflies from your stomach away and suppressing all imagery of the affection Sirius was just drowning you. It was his attempt at distracting you from the tense situation but you’re fed up of it now. It also breaks your heart seeing them like this when you know their true affections for one another.
“That’s enough!” you stand as strong as the finality ringing in your statement, “you two need to make up!” Remus and Sirius face the point of your accusing finger with disgruntled expressions, “I thought you two loved each other,” your disappointed tone makes their shoulders sag in shame and their eyes avoid one another’s.
“Dove, please—”
“—Listen…” the careful intonation in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed and wills them to hear you out with care, lips sealed shut, “you were both right — you both had good reason to act the way you did and I can’t blame either of you for wanting to steer things into a certain direction but I’m also to blame for this, okay? I was horrible at communicating my true emotions and that led to a lot of unnecessary heartache on both sides,” with a deep breath, you establish your resolve, “can’t we all just make up and move forward together?” everyone in the room knows that when you said ‘we’, what you really meant was just Remus and Sirius.
James has been an absolute angel throughout all of this, collateral damage to their bickering and unloving behaviour towards each other; stuck between a rock and a hard place. You only have sympathy for him being caught up in the middle of it all.
“Dove, it’s not—”
You swiftly interrupt, “I love all of you,” your confession makes them all stutter and flush pink in the cheeks. It’s an image that makes you smile warmly just before insecurity creeps over and your smile turns shy, “don’t… don’t you love me too?…” it was now clear in their actions that they reciprocated your romantic affections and so you weren’t wrong to assume that they wanted you to take part in their relationship…right?
The drawn out silence that followed was too much for you to bear. Even after taking some of the blame off their shoulders and confessing your love, they were still too stubborn to admit their wrongs and make up. Huffing, you make your disappointment and frustrations known with a deep frown, thoroughly concealing your heartache from their silence .
“We just need—” Sirius finally begins, stubborn as ever, only to be glared at harshly by both, Remus and James. This was not the right time for excuses. You had just worded your true feelings for them and they needed to reciprocate in kind. But those words were hard to come by, the timing for a confession also wasn’t ideal for the moment. Then again, when would it ever be. They’ve all just proven how incompetent they were at emotions despite being in such a loving relationship, and yet, you were still willing to accept and be with them romantically. The words they have for you reached beyond that of just love; they were also grateful, astonished and embarrassed for their incompetence.
“I love you too, angel, so so much,” James finally speaks up, eyes bright and his smile warm with his adoration of you. He ignores the high tension in the room, eyes fixed solely on you as he glowed like the summer sun but he doesn’t reach out for you in any way, he simply sits and admires. Admires how beautiful you look, admires how strong you are, admires how loving and sweet you remain despite all the trouble and anguish they’ve put you through.
You feel the world disappear around you and narrow your focus onto the only person you were grateful for in the room at that moment. Year heart pounds with warmth and devotion and all you want to do is be close to him. Helping yourself into James’ lap, you smile up at the bewildered look on this handsome face, “Oh James, you’re my only saving grace,”
James smiles at your words as his arms wrap around your waist, securing you in place, “yeah?” his voice is a faint whisper and airy with his adoration for you.
“Yeah,” reaching up, your arms wrap around his neck and pull him close so you can press your face under his chin. Behind you, you feel the baffled attention of Sirius and Remus, “how about I feed you some lunch again? Like we always used to do?”
Without waiting for an answer, you lean over to swipe up one of your lunch containers and proceed to feed him, completely ignoring the grumbling and whining emitting from Sirius and Remus.
“I like your thinking, angel,” James giggles adorably and happily accepts your affections as the two of you silently agree to ignore the other two until they make up. In the mean time, you’ll enjoy each other’s company in your own little bubble of love.
“How does it taste?” you ask sweetly, blatantly ignoring Remus and Sirius, sitting side-ways on James’ lap but keeping your full attention on him.
“Delicious! More than delicious!” James exaggerates and basks in the bell-like giggles he draws from you, he doesn’t want the sound to ever stop, “You’re always such a great cook, angel!”
“I made it all with love, just for you, Jamie~”
He hums low and appreciative, “I’m so fucking lucky, aren’t I?”
As you continue to feed him, James takes the opportunity to look over your shoulder and smirk at the miserable faces of his two lovers. They know they deserved this unfair treatment. They also know that, to remedy it, all they have to do is abandon their pride and apologise, which is always worth it when your love is on the line — it should be easy for them. All things considered, this was just light punishment.
Faced with only one solution, Remus and Sirius turn to each other. Sirius still grumbles under his breath as Remus sighs. The brunette accepts that it was entirely his fault for pushing Sirius to suppress his natural way of loving just for his own personal fear that things would turn out horribly, otherwise. And judging from the way Sirius avoids his eyes and continues to whine, Remus knows it’s up to him to make amends.
‘But it’s not so bad’, Remus smiles to himself; seeing one of his beloved partners grumpy and stubborn was oddly charming. And now that most of the conflict has dissolved, Remus had no other reason to hold back an apology other than for his own personal pride.
Making his way over, Remus kneels down beside his grumbling lover and whispers his name affectionately, “Sirius,” Remus waits, patient and unhurried, until his beloved in question finally looks at him. As soon as they meet eyes, Remus is left thinking the same devoted thought he’s always had when drowning in his boyfriend’s diamond-grey eyes, ‘how did I get so lucky?’ which is then quickly followed by a guilty, ‘why did I ever let it get this far?’
“Remus,”
“I’m sorry,” the piercer doesn’t wait for a response and, almost desperately, leans up to capture Sirius’ lips. The kiss is filled with emotions, a mix of sincerity, love and forgiveness. The sentiments were so keen they almost smother the murmured, unspoken words on Sirius’ tongue, “what was that, love?” Remus asks against his lover’s lips, unable to pull away fully. He missed this…
“I’m sorry too…”
It was a unanimous decision to have you spend the night at the boys’ shared flat. They’ve been kept away from you for too long and tonight they wanted to make up for lost time. High on emotions and desperately missing their presence in your life too, you agree as long as you dropped by your place first for a change of clothes. But not before having Remus and Sirius apologise to James for their neglect of him.
“You know, we really are so happy to have you in our lives, dollface,” Sirius utters, leaving feathery kisses on your lips as he pushes the door to their flat open whilst carrying your duffle bag for you. He was kind enough to take you to and from your flat on his motorcycle just for the quick collection of your night time essentials.
“I’m happy you’re in my life too, Siri,” the situation has finally dawned on you but you still can’t believe the events that have lead you to this very moment.
“Stop hogging her, Padfoot!” James whines, sweeping you off your feet and hurrying to the living room with you in his arms. Once there, he sits you on his lap triumphantly, “Aha! You’re finally mine!” he cheers and attacks your neck with a flourish of kisses, tickling you and infecting the air with your melodic giggles.
“Now you’re hogging her Prongs, stop being a hypocrite!” Sirius pants lightly after rushing to the scene from the hallway, a grin plastered on his lips despite his accusing words.
From the kitchen, Remus smiles to himself at the sounds of merriment in the air and continues to cook dinner.
This is how it should be…
Remus wanted to sort the conflict with Sirius out more, so he insisted that you spend the night in James’ bed which you happily agree shyly, James grinning widely at your side. All three of you agree as Sirius whines and makes adorable grabbing motions at you but it’s no use as Remus keeps the tattooist pressed tightly against his side, dragging him off and trapping him in his room for the night. The sight made you giggle but it was a brief reprieve from the anxious nerves that soon had you avoiding James’ eyes.
“You’re so cute,” James whispers affectionately at your shy behaviour, resisting the urge to kiss you as he leads you to his room and gestures to his en suite, “you can change in there, beautiful, I can change out here and brush my teeth at the kitchen sink instead,”
With a small smile, you move past him with your duffle, eager to get ready for bed but squeal in surprise when you feel a teasing pinch at your ass. An explosion of heat blooms across your cheeks when you glance over your shoulder and observe James’ sly wink and devious smirk directed at you.
“James—!”
“Angel with a cutest ass, aren’t I a lucky bastard?” he chuckles and presses a devoted, almost possessive, kiss onto your lips, “I never did say thank you for making those two apologise to me,” he purrs and nips at your bottom lip, “you make me feel seen…god, I love you so much,” you squeak into the fierce kiss that follows, almost losing yourself in the embrace but pry yourself away with a squeal when his hands travel too low and squeeze greedily at your ass.
You rush into the bathroom with butterflies in your stomach as James licks his lips and laughs merrily. He’s come to love teasing you and you didn’t know whether to argue or welcome it with open arms. Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you move on to change into your pyjamas - an oversized shirt and shorts - before proceeding with your night time skincare routine. For a moment, you contemplated taking a shower but rule against it, not wanting to prolong your night time routine. No more than fifteen minutes later, you were out of the en suite bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for bed but giggle at the sight of James already tucked under the covers. He looks so cosy and innocent, it almost makes you forget about his devious behaviour earlier on.
“All ready?” James asks with his usual boyish grin and sits up, allowing the covers to drop from his chest, at which point you quickly realise that James is a liar. He didn’t need to change into anything! All he did was take off his shirt and he was all set for bed! “I changed into comfier pyjama pants, though,” he argues lightly as you slip into the right side of the bed.
“That’s just half changing!” your retort has him laughing aloud, your flustered state beyond amusing and incredibly adorable in his eyes.
“Am I making you shy, princess?~”
“…No,”
“Oh yes I am~”
“Go to sleep, James,”
“Not without a goodnight kiss from my angel,” he leans over you with his naked chest on full display and you stutter in embarrassment, “don’t be shy, come and give me a fat smooch~” he puckers his lips above you and awaits your compliance with closed eyes.
“James—”
“I’m a very patient man, darling, I can do this all night long,”
“No you’re not,”
“Yes I am,”
“You’re not,”
“I am,”
“Not!”
He finally peaks an eye open. Then slowly opens both eyes as he un-puckers his lips to smirk down at you, caged in between his muscular arms as he props himself up with his elbows, “You just like staring at my beautifully muscular chest don’t you?” you watch as his ego inflates to dangerous levels right in front of you, “My tattoos turn you on too, angel?~”
“Oh for goodness sake!” you finally relent and lean upwards, your smile matching his own when you finally capture his lips in his much desired, goodnight kiss. With one arm holding himself up, James uses his spare hand to hold your face in place, prolonging the kiss. You have no choice but to accept his needy demands as your hand searches his bedside table for his lamp switch.
Morning comes with you groaning in discomfort as a syrupy wetness coats your inner thighs and painful pangs make you want to curl up into a ball. Your bleary morning fog makes the situation difficult to decipher but the realisation soon comes crashing down like a landslide and you lift the covers with a scream, the scent of iron becoming more potent. Beside you, James jumps awake, fully alert as his worried, hazel eyes scan you, trying to discern what may be the problem.
“What’s wrong, angel?” he asks, voice deep and groggy with sleep but dripping in concern.
“James, I’m so sorry,” you sob into your hands and curl up into yourself, hiding your face away from him.
“What do you mean?” he reaches forward, inching closer to you in the process and quickly realising what’s wrong when he feels an unusual wetness seep through his thin pyjama pants, “oh angel, don’t be upset, it’s okay,” he coos, gently prying your hands away from your face so he can kiss your forehead tenderly, “it’s normal. Are you okay?” he asks softly, looking over you without an ounce of judgement or anger on his face, only concern and soft, kind, heart-fluttering love in his eyes.
“Th-the blood—”
“I don’t care about the blood,” he insists gently, “I just want to make sure that you’re okay,” you remain silent from the embarrassment but he’s understanding, “do you want me to get you some painkillers?”
As soon as you give an affirming nod, he’s out of bed and hurrying down the hall. It doesn’t take very long for him to come back to you, a glass of water in one hand and a pack of painkillers in the other.
“Thank you,” you finally utter with a small smile, still upset at having ruined the sheets but so incredibly grateful for his tolerance. Patiently, he waits for you to take your dosage before he’s sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you into his en suite.
“Get cleaned up, angel,” he voices into you hair before placing you back on your feet, “I’ll change the sheets in the mean time,” he leaves you with a kiss before you could utter another word of apology. He wasn’t going to take it, he made that very clear, because it wasn’t your fault. And it was nothing a little oxi stain remover couldn’t fix.
The start to the day wasn’t ideal but James, Remus and Sirius made one of the most agonising and frustrating times of the month for you much more enjoyable. James woke his two lovers up while you were showering in his bathroom, thanking your lucky stars that you bought a spare change of clothes just in case you wanted to shower, and they all made the effort of getting you comfortable.
James changed his bedsheets and laid a dark coloured towel down for you to lay on top of just to catch any more potential leakage. He made sure you didn’t see his bloodied sheets again too so that you wouldn’t continue feeling guilty and happily took care of the stains away from your line of sight. Sirius worked on breakfast as Remus made you some tea and a hot water bottle and, before James steps out of the flat to buy you period pads, you hear Remus call out helpfully, “look for the long, heavy flow pads and make sure to get the ones with wings,” their thoughtfulness makes you smile.
“How did you know to get these ones?” you ask when James comes back, panting as he hands you the pack of pads through the door of his en suite.
“Remus told me, and I heard girls experience heavier flows on the first few days,” his answer draws out a proud smile. You have no doubt you’d be well taken care of in this relationship, though it does make you bashful.
“Thank you, James,”
For breakfast Sirius cooked you french toast with strawberries and honey, apparently it was the only good thing he could cook. Remus balanced the sweetness of the meal out with some eggs and toast, while James brought over the tea and hot water bottle Remus had also prepared. Breakfast was pleasant but they boys were insistent that you stay in James’ bed and call if you needed anything. As much as they wanted to spend the full day right by your side, they were preparing to make the announcement of returning their business into full operations and were still taking calls and responding to client emails at home. You didn’t argue, you knew the shop was important to them so you didn’t want to be a burden.
The day drags by and you know they’ve made it clear that you could freely call out to them whenever but the hours drag by and they haven’t heard a single peep. They didn’t mean to lose their full attention in their work; it’s been so long since they were last filled with the motivation to keep up with their business that emails and paperwork on equipment orders had piled up significantly so they were swamped. Thankfully they were finally inspired enough that the work didn’t feel laborious. Unfortunately, that meant seeing them in their element though James’ open doorway and shying away from redirecting their attention back to you.
It wasn’t until you willed yourself to walk to their kitchen that you finally caught their attention. All phone calls, email responses and paperwork filing was stopped as soon as you stepped into their line of sight when your craving for a snack became too much. They had gone for a quick shop to buy you an array of snacks from sweet to savoury that morning and had left the bag on their kitchen counter. You were just reaching for the bag when Remus caught your wrist and swept you up into his arms in order to carry you back into James’ bed.
All three of them felt incredibly guilty for having neglected you, unintentional or not, they even neglected themselves in the process by prioritising their work and forgetting about lunch. In Remus’ head, everything circled back to the night before as a chain of linked events. As you laid in bed, curled up and nibbling on a chocolate bar, you watch and listen as Remus scolds the two about how, if the outburst didn’t happen, they wouldn’t have asked you to stay the night, you wouldn’t have agreed and you wouldn’t have had to suffer from their incompetent care. Remus was being too hard on himself, which reflected directly onto Sirius and James.
“This is why I said we needed to be careful and. To. Be. Patient,” Remus snarls under his breath, almost growling at Sirius and James who stand at the foot of the bed. James nods with a disappointed sigh as Sirius crosses his arms and huffs in defiance. They’re developing a bad habit of speaking about you when you’re still in the same room but, at least, it means their thoughts are open to you.
“I didn’t see you complain when you watched James and I practically devouring her sweet little mouth yesterday,” Sirius’ challenging comment makes the tips of James’s ears turn visibly pink as an embarrassing heat climbs up your neck to bloom across the apples of your cheeks. Interestingly, James can barks and bites to his heart’s content with you but if anybody else brings it up, it seems that bashfulness isn’t far behind.
Remus shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, “don’t start now, Sirius—”
“—I-I don’t mind, we’re all learning to love together and I know how important the tattoo parlour is to all of you so I really don’t mind…” you interrupt their bickering with flushed cheeks and shy eyes, unprepared for the reaction you would receive.
Remus snaps his full attention towards you in that moment. Your words were innocent and you look the picture of virtue, shy and sweet as you peer up at them with glittering doe eyes and a small smile. Remus doesn’t think anybody else could be more beautiful than you right now. You appreciate his passions, you support it even, you’re understanding, you’re kind, you’re loving, you’re sweet and you’re so incredibly lovable, he wants to keep you away from the rest of the world forever, selfishly keeping you for himself. He wonders if you know how much of a tease you’ve been to him this whole, working him up over and over and over again until he finally snaps.
Morals and patience be damned — he can’t resist you anymore.
Remus’ face carries an unreadable expression as he gives a slow exhale and strides over to you. Sirius and James watch from where they stood, unmoving but with sly smiles on their lips — they know you’re the perfect image of Remus’ weaknesses bundled into one being and they both knew this was coming. It was about time… they applaud him though, he has more patience than them — but he had more desires too.
It all happens too fast for you to register but Remus was quickly looming over you, propped up by a hand on the bed as his other gripped at your chin. His eyes were piercing and held such promise within them, un-breaking and passionate, that you couldn’t look away.
“Don’t tempt me, beautiful girl,” his voice lowers several octaves and is underpinned by a hypnotising vibration that corrupts your limbs with minor tremors and a ferocious heat. Shamelessly, he captures your lips in a soft and tender kiss, an antithesis to the dark gleam in his feral eyes, “I’m not above making a mess in the bedroom,” you gasp at the implication and, for a moment, your cramps become pleasantly arousing. Again, Remus can’t help but hold your lips hostage in an increasingly impassioned embrace. He greedily eats up your pretty moans, the muffled sounds going straight to his groin and making his smart trousers uncomfortably tight — a prickling warning to his precarious conduct, “so be a good girl and sit pretty until after you get over this, okay?” he utters roughly against your lips.
He’ll wait just a little bit longer…it’ll be worth it.
NAVI. | SERIES M.LIST | NEXT : ... →
A/N : goodness me, this was so much harder to write than previous chapters, i kept changing so many things but i think i'm satisfied with the final product, i hope you darlings do too~ the next chapter will be a pretty big one i think, so i won't be posting it for a while, however, i may post short additional imagines/scenarios for this series that don't necessarily follow the chronological order just to satiate some of you XD anywho~ i hope you darlings enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the next one
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lovesick (XVl / finale)
— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader
— word count: 13.3k
— warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, explicit sexual content unprotected sex, breast play, fingering (vaginal), VERY mild d/s, consensual punishment (spanking), consensual voyeurism (jimin watches like the freak that he is).
— summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.
— a/n: please read the author's note at the end of the chapter!
Previous - Masterlist
It takes six months before you finally hear the words you've been waiting so desperately for.
"Sunshine, we've been talking and we think it's time we relocate to somewhere else."
Your fork clatters to the table, clicking loudly against your plate. You wonder for a moment if you're dreaming – if your brain has started to hallucinate scenarios to make up for how suffocated you feel in this cabin – but Jimin's hand squeezing your knee is too real to be made up.
"What?" You breathe, shocked.
"We can't stay here for much longer, baby, the station uses the cabin sporadically throughout the summer months," Jimin says. He takes a bite of his food, shrugging as he admits, "Our stay here so far hasn't exactly been legal. I'd rather not get us all in trouble for using the place unauthorized."
"We know how cooped up you've been here," Seokjin adds, giving you a sad smile, "We never planned on staying here this long but we had to figure some things out first. We wanted to find a place that was perfect for us, somewhere that could be our home, so we couldn't rush it."
You drop your hands into your lap, clutching them together tightly. You hope it's enough to hide how badly they're trembling, blood pumping loudly in your ears as it dawns on you that this is your ticket out. You might not be able to escape, not in the way you attempted so many months ago at least, but it's a start. The boys wouldn't make this decision if they didn't trust you, if they didn't feel confident enough in your connection that you won't try to run away from them.
And you won't.
You've come to terms with your situation; that your soulmates need you to get better.
Though you haven't had much of a choice, you have decided that you're going to stay until the bond settles, just until they stop being so obsessive and paranoid. Maybe then you'll be able to go back to the life you had before and do everything right with them this time.
The you from six months ago would've been disgusted that you're even entertaining the thought of giving them a second chance, but you know better now. Your soulmates are sick. Perhaps with time, and a lot of therapy, they will be able to understand what they've been putting you through and try to make amends for it.
You know that the healthy thing to do would be to run away without a backward glance but you can't. Try as you might to hate it, your soul – your heart – has long since accepted them. You can't quite call it love, not with the circumstances of how those feelings came to be, but you do like them.
"It's some hours away but it's a quaint home, just big enough for the eight of us. It's on the outskirts of– the city! So it has a big garden and a lot of picturesque trails around it," Seokjin's voice cracks as he almost lets the town name slip, Namjoon elbowing his side with a low hiss.
"It's perfect for taking Yeontan on walks!" Taehyung pipes up with a grin, sneaking the whining pup at his feet a piece of sausage.
You're not surprised that the boys aren't willing to share any information about the new house and place you'll be moving to. They may not be as paranoid as they were at the beginning but that still doesn't mean that they have full faith in you just yet. But you expected that. You just need to play your cards right – stay at the house until they let their guards down and then, maybe, you'll be able to slowly lay down the foundation you need to convince them to let you go back to your home.
"That sounds lovely," You smile, glossing over Seokjin's blunder.
Needing to act as normal as possible, you once again pick up your fork and try to resume eating your dinner. The piece of chicken you shove into your mouth doesn't taste like anything, your nerves making everything bland and tough to chew. But you push through, moving around some rice on your plate as you nonchalantly say, "But what about your jobs? Jungkook's degree? I would hate for our move to affect you like that."
"You don't have to worry about that," Jimin squeezes your knee, "I'll be commuting with Seokjin hyung and Hoseok hyung. Namjoon hyung has been hired at the library in the city we're moving to and Jungkookie is going to finish the rest of the semester online."
"Taehyungie and I can work a lot from home, so we're planning on doing that. We might have to go into the office now and then, but that's no problem," Yoongi supplies. He gives you a fond look as he says, "We're hoping it'll make the transition into the new house easier for you since some of us will always be home to spend time with you."
And it'll be easier to make sure you don't do anything stupid.
"Ah, I see, that's nice," You say. "Thank you for thinking of me."
"Always," Namjoon grins sweetly, his dimples indenting his cheeks.
It might not be a lot to go off, but the fact that the majority of them are planning on commuting every day must mean that the new city can be too far away from your old one, even if you don't know exactly where it is yet. An hour, maybe a little more, if they're being extra careful. You can work with that.
Hoseok catches your gaze from across the table, his expression earnest as he says, "We want you to be able to have a normal life, Y/n. With us."
"I know our methods have been a bit..." He trails off with a small grimace, no doubt thinking about what transpired in his shop and everything that followed. You can't exactly say that Hoseok looks remorseful, none of them do, but there is a touch of shame in their faces that hasn't been present before.
"I won't apologize for what happened because that's what led us here and gave us the chance to grow closer like we were supposed to all along. But, we want to do better by you and we're going to do our best to make sure that happens."
The others voice out their agreement, nodding along to Hoseok's words.
You shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth to dampen your sigh.
You're not even sure why you feel disappointed by the fact that the boys refuse to apologize for what they did to you, you already know they don't feel bad about it. Still, perhaps the part of you that likes them was hoping for it nonetheless. Maybe it would be easier for you to accept everything that has happened if they did – if they admitted that they had hurt you and wanted to repent for it. But, you're probably going to have to wait a very long time before that day ever comes – if, it ever comes.
Swallowing your food, you try to shake off any useless thoughts. You need to focus on the future, on the fact that you'll be regaining a sliver of freedom soon.
You move one hand under the table, covering Jimin's hand with yours.
Squeezing it, you hope you don't sound too eager as you ask, "So, when do we leave?"
Two weeks.
You figured the move would happen soon, but not that quickly. The boys must have planned this for a long time, far longer than they let on, because there's no way they could have closed on a house this fast.
The day after they told you of their plans, Namjoon had already begun moving some of his books out of the cabin. Truthfully there wasn't much any of you needed to pack up, only a few random personal belongings and decor elements that had been placed here and there to make your stay a little more cozy. In the end, it all fit into three boxes placed neatly by the door.
A few days before the move, the boys spent an hour rearranging the furniture back to how it was when you had first arrived, erasing any trace of the last six months with it. It was as if no one had ever been there in the first place, as if it hadn't served as a prison for half a year.
When you first arrived you wondered if you would ever be able to leave, and now, you're about to do just that.
"Y/n."
You turn around as Yoongi calls your name, watching as he steps closer with a piece of fabric between his hands. Yoongi unfolds it under your gaze, revealing it to be a black opaque scarf.
"We're all ready to go, love, but you have to cover your eyes with this," Yoongi frowns apologetically. "We want to trust you, but for everyone's peace of mind, this is the best thing to do. It's just until we arrive at the house."
You eye the scarf for a moment, flashing Yoongi a weak smile as you say, "It's okay, I understand."
He steps closer, bringing the fabric up to your face. The material is soft, and cool, as it covers your eyes, blocking out any semblance of light. The scarf is wide enough that it covers everything from your eyebrows to the tip of your nose, removing any chance you might have had to tilt your head to peek at the outside world. You should've figured they would've been prepared for that possibility.
Yoongi's hands are careful as he ties the scarf behind your head, making sure he doesn't tangle or tug at your hair in the process. You can feel his breath against your cheek as he binds it securely, double knotting it to make sure it's not going to come undone.
"All done," Yoongi announces softly, curving one hand along the back of your neck. He tilts your head up slightly, just enough for his lips to brush against yours. Your eyes fall shut despite the darkness already hindering your vision, leaning forward to catch his lips in a proper kiss.
Yoongi indulges you for a few seconds before he steps back, removing his hands.
"Come back," You pout, your fingers searching blindly for his coat.
"We're going to be late, love, the others are waiting for us," You can hear the smile in Yoongi's voice as he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.
As if summoned, the cabin door flies open, Jungkook's voice echoing slightly in the near-empty cabin as he asks, "Are you coming, hyung? Y/n? We're all ready to go."
You let Yoongi lead you forward, your steps a little unsteady despite his promise that nothing is in your way. Jungkook grabs your other hand as you near the door, chattering excitedly about how he brought some of your favourite snacks for the trip as they both help you down the stairs.
Your heart jumps, picking up speed, as you hear the steady thrum of a car motor running. You can't believe this is actually real – you're truly leaving this place for good. You know that Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon have already left, the boys eager to get everything in order at the new house before your arrival.
You're maneuvered into the car without too much trouble, Hoseok clicking your seatbelt into place as you're placed between him and Jungkook in the backseat. You find a bag of sweets dumped into your lap the moment you're situated, Hoseok chiding Jungkook lightly for startling you. Yoongi has taken his place in the front seat, groaning loudly as Seokjin declares that as the driver; he's going to be responsible for the music and that no one is allowed to complain about his choices.
You lean back in your seat, getting yourself comfortable between Jungkook and Hoseok. Their bodies being flushed with yours in the cramped car feels grounding, the feel of their strong thighs pressed against yours being something you can easily divert your focus to with your sight momentarily blocked. Seokjin and Yoongi bicker as the car begins to pull away from the cabin, the gravel road crunching loudly under the wheels.
Finally.
Knowing there's no chance of you catching a glimpse of the surroundings on the way there, not with the blindfold so securely wrapped around your head, you slump to the side, resting your head on Hoseok's shoulder. Slender fingers wrap around yours as Hoseok takes your hand into his lap, his thumb moving soothingly across your knuckles. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to zone out and daydream about all of the possibilities ahead of you. It's not like the boys are going to magically become more trusting the moment you arrive at the new house but the move will open new doors for you – give you more opportunities to show them that they can lower their guards and trust the bond without any consequences.
They don't have to worry about you running away anymore.
The boys seem content to let you rest on the drive over to the new house, filling the silence between songs with jokes and lighthearted bickering. You easily accept the pieces of candy that are pressed to your lips at steady intervals, smiling at Jungkook and Hoseok's pleased words whenever you accept their offers. Before you know it, the car begins to slow down and you hear Seokjin exclaim, "Ah, there it is!"
The door on Hoseok's side is opened the moment the car stops, Taehyung whining loudly about how long it took you to get there. You follow their lead out of the car and inside the new house, placing one foot blindly in front of the other.
"We'll show you the outside later, babe," Taehyung promises as he steers you forward with both hands securely placed on your shoulders, "We just want to see your reaction to the inside of the house first."
Namjoon helps you slip off your shoes as you step into the house, the smell of a freshly cleaned floor hitting your nose. Taehyung urges you to walk forward a bit more before he stops you, his hands moving from your shoulders to untie the knots behind your head.
"We hope you'll like your new home, darling," Namjoon says, revealing a hint of nervousness in his tone.
You're practically bursting with anticipation as Taehyung undos the first knot, the wooden floorboards under your feet giving you the impression that this is likely an older, more traditional, house. You blink as the blindfold finally falls away, the sudden burst of light stinging your eyes.
Your lips part in surprise as your vision adjusts, taking in the space in front of you.
You're standing in the middle of a large entryway, the area opening up into a big combined living and dining room. One wall is practically filled with windows, letting lots of beautiful sunlight stream in and warm up the space. You notice a massive couch on one side of the room, the size of it definitely big enough to comfortably seat eight people at once. It's facing the built-in fireplace in the wall in front of it, a big TV hung above it. The dining room portion has a lovely intricate hardwood table with eight matching chairs pushed up against it.
You notice that one of the smaller walls has a bookcase spanning the entire width of it, already half-full with what you can only assume to be Namjoon's books. You do recognize little trinkets here and there that the boys kept at the cabin, and even a few larger plants you eyed when you visited Seokjin's shop way back then.
"I love it," You gasp, stunned at how well they've designed the living room.
It does feel cozy – home-y, even.
"I told you the couch was the right choice!" Taehyung walks into the room, grinning smugly at Jimin.
Jimin rolls his eyes, "It would've looked too out of place if it wasn't for the rug that I found to go along with it."
"There they go again," Hoseok sighs behind your back. He nudges your shoulder gently, voice low as he says, "They're going to keep doing that for a while. Why don't we go look at the kitchen in the meantime?"
"Please," You nod, excited to see if the rest of the house looks as good as the living room. You follow Hoseok's lead back to the entry and through the open door on the left, the rest of the boys trailing behind you.
"The kitchen needed an upgrade so we let Seokjin hyung and Yoongi hyung design it since they do the majority of the cooking," Hoseok scratches his neck, a little sheepish as he pauses next to the large island in the room.
The kitchen is sleek and modern, definitely newer than what you've seen of the house so far, but not out of place by any means. It just feels inviting and bright, like a breath of fresh air. Maybe cooking won't be so bad if you can do it in a kitchen like this.
"It looks great," You comment, walking around the island to marvel at some of the fancier appliances that are out on display on the counters.
"Thank you, angel," Seokjin preens. He shares a pleased look with Yoongi over your compliment, the younger man's cheeks flushed from the praise.
You catch sight of the pretty, colourful garden outside as you walk past the sink. Looking outside the window above it, you find that spring is already in full bloom here. While you had noticed a few more wildflowers around the cabin a few days before you left, it's nothing compared to the abundance of flowers and shrubs that are blossoming here.
The view makes you smile. You know your stay here isn't permanent but it does make your heart flutter to know that you're going to be spending your foreseeable future here – in a lovely house with a pretty garden – and not an old cabin in a dark forest. The boys did well by picking this house, it's the type of place you actually would like to live in.
"Y/n, let's go have a look at the downstairs bathroom and study before we move upstairs," Seokjin says, gesturing to the hallway.
You can still hear Taehyung and Jimin's heated discussion as you cross over the entry to look at the rooms on the opposite side of the house, the french double doors leading to the study winning you over immediately. Both rooms look like they've gotten a recent refresh, the new paint and tiles the boys picked out for the bathroom nicely complementing the old features of the home. The house is the perfect blend of rustic and modern.
Jungkook grabs your hand as you turn to follow Yoongi up to the second floor, excitedly dragging you up the stairs ahead of the others. He quickly explains that the second-floor houses all three bedrooms and an additional two ensuite bathrooms. Jungkook eagerly tells you about the choices they made for the bedrooms, from the color of the wall to the bedside tables to even the small light near the window that projects stars on the ceiling when it's dark out.
Yoongi takes special care to point out the wainscoting he put up in the second bedroom and he flashes you a gummy smile as you praise him for the work he's done. You drag your fingers over the soft duvet on the seemingly king-sized bed in the room, a lightbulb going off in your head as you remember that there are only three bedrooms.
"Wait, if there's only three beds, what are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?"
Hoseok speaks up from where he's leaning against the wall, "We're all going to share, sunshine. Some of us will have to stay overnight in the city due to our jobs every so often so that should clear up some space, but aside from that, we'll be sharing beds."
The surprise must be evident on your face, because Namjoon grimaces and quickly supplies, "We know we've been neglecting each other as soulmates. We don't feel the bond in the same way as we do with you but we are connected regardless. This... well, this is our attempt at strengthening that connection. We're trying to accept that the bond goes eight ways – not just one."
You find yourself speechless at what you've just heard. You knew that the bond was slowly mellowing them out but you never thought that it would start affecting the connection between them as well. If that part of the soulbond starts to heal then... You might be able to get back to your normal life sooner than you first dared to hope for.
"We still have one more room to look at, love," Yoongi touches your hip, nudging you towards the door. None of the boys seem to expect a response to what Namjoon just told you, understanding that the news has left you a little dumbfounded.
Taehyung and Jimin must have resolved their bickering during your tour, the two of them waiting by the door to the final room, giggling at something on Taehyung's phone. The hot and cold behaviour the boys have towards each other does give you a whiplash most days but you suppose that too might become less frequent as the bond between them finally gets the nurture it's been needing for years.
"We didn't want to complete this house without you," Yoongi explains as he pushes open the door. The last bedroom is noticeably less finished than the rest of the house, the walls a tired white and the furniture non-existent aside from another king bed. "This is your home just as much as it's ours, so we'd really like it if you want to help us design the final bedroom."
"I'd love that," You grin, eager for a project you can occupy some of your time with.
"We'll be collecting your things soon, babe," Jimin adds, "Your lease is up on your apartment and you don't need it anymore, so we'll take turns packing up everything and bringing it over next weekend."
You stare at the blank wall, heart sinking in your chest. Somehow, you had forgotten about your lease. A burst of anger you haven't felt in a while bubbles up under your skin, the urge to scream and curse at them taking over your body. But what good will it do?
In their eyes, this is your new home. The need for your apartment is now obsolete.
You breathe slowly through your nose, quelling the flames before they can burn too hot. You may lose your apartment, your home, for now, but that doesn't mean you can't make a new home somewhere else later. You'll be fine. You're sure Heejun and Jaemin will gladly let you crash on their couch until you figure something out. For now, you just have to accept the situation for what it is and play along.
You have missed your things, so it'll be nice to be able to make this house your own for however long you'll need it.
"Great, thank you," You grit.
For once, Jimin seems oblivious to your snark. He throws an arm around your shoulders, bumping his forehead against yours as he grins and says, "C'mon babe, let's go have a look at the garden. I think you're going to love it."
You throw a glance towards the window, plastering on a convincing smile as you say, "I'd like nothing more, Jiminie."
Time passes quickly in the new house once you begin to settle in.
The unfinished bedroom gets decorated to your liking, the walls repainted and the newly hung shelves display most of the little knick-knacks from your old apartment. As spring begins to bleed into summer, you take on the task of getting the already stunning garden ready for the warmer weather. You often find yourself outside with Jungkook or Yoongi, weeding around the plants or mowing the grass to make sure Yeontan has a nice, safe space to run around in. The pup loves to dig up anything that has been freshly planted, so someone must always watch him like a hawk whenever the soil has been recently turned. You've already lost a bed of beautiful purple hyacinths once and you don't want to make that mistake again (even if the picture of Yeontan napping in a pile of flowers was a little cute).
Truly, it's all too easy to fall into a new routine and it doesn't take long before you know the boys' schedules by heart. Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok are away the most since the nature of their jobs doesn't allow them to work from home. Seokjin and Hoseok have hired more helpers to be able to spend the full weekend at home, in addition to a day or two here and there when they work on the administrative side of their businesses. Jimin, however, doesn't have that option. He often spends three days at the time in the city, his shifts too long and tiring for him to be able to make the drive back and forth every day.
You miss him whenever he's away and it's becoming quite obvious that the others do too. Jungkook and Taehyung in particular often mope around the house when Jimin is working his shifts, lamenting about how unfair it is that he has to stay there for days all by himself. Even if you're a little surprised at how quickly the bond has grown between the boys, you do admittedly find it awfully sweet to see them puppy-piling whoever has been gone for a day or more whenever they return to the house. Though, you always grow a little wary when Jimin comes back, as the days apart usually leave him a little more hungry for mischief than usual.
You can already tell that Jimin is up to something the moment he steps into the house, his eyes sparkling with interest despite his tired complexion. Your suspicion wavers slightly during dinner with Hoseok and Seokjin, as Jimin keeps yawning between bites and resting his head heavily against your arm the moment he's done eating. He stays glued to your back as you all shuffle into the living room after, hugging you tight to his chest as he settles down on the couch. He only hums in agreement when Seokjin proposes a few rounds of Mario Kart, letting out a tired sigh as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch them.
Jimin has one hand tucked under your sweatshirt, petting over the bare skin on your waist while he nuzzles his face against your neck. The gestures are innocent and sleepy, and you find your guard lowering with every round Hoseok and Seokjin play.
You snort as Hoseok gets hit with a blue shell just as he's about to cross the finish line, Seokjin letting out a whop as he races past him.
"You're such a cheater!" Hoseok huffs, glaring at the teasing dance Seokjin does to celebrate his fifth win in a row.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, Hobi, but you're just not as good as I am," Seokjin grins. "I never lose once I set my mind to something, you know that."
"You're too full of yourself, hyung," Hoseok shakes his head as he gives Seokjin's shoulder a light shove.
"And you're a sore loser," Seokjin quips, laughing as he gets pushed to the ground. He swats Hoseok's hands away as he tries to wrestle with him, his squeaky laughter filling the room as Hoseok grumbles out his protests.
The hand on your waist suddenly stills just as Seokjin's laughter lulls. The mischief is back in Jimin's voice as it brushes against your neck, his tone taunting as he says, "Maybe it's time you brought Seokjin hyung down a peg, huh, Hoseok hyung?"
You hold your breath as Hoseok and Seokjin both freeze, their heads slowly turning to face the couch.
"What are you talking about, Jimin?" Seokjin, never one to entertain Jimin's antics for too long, purses his lips as he stares him down.
"You do win almost every game we play, hyung, that's true, but you've also played more video games than all of us combined. Maybe if you and Hoseok hyung played a game that was more.. level to your experiences, it would be more fair?" Jimin proposes.
"What kind of game are we talking about here?" Hoseok asks. You can tell his curiosity is winning out over his usual disdain for Jimin's 'games', his eyes tracking Jimin as the younger brings one hand up to your jaw, turning your head to the side.
You let out a stuttered breath as you meet Jimin's hungry gaze, his glossy lips twisting into a smirk as he looks you dead in the eyes and says, "How about a competition to see who can fuck our baby better?"
You hear Seokjin sputter on the floor as Hoseok lets out a pained groan.
"Hyung! You almost kneed me in the balls! Are you seriously still trying to cheat?"
"I'm not– I'm surprised!" Seokjin retorts with a squeak, "I didn't think that little devil would joke around with something like that!"
"I'm not joking though," Jimin hums as he strokes his thumb along your jaw. "Wouldn't it be interesting to see who would win – who Y/n would crown the best?"
Jimin's gaze leaves yours for a second as it glides down to his hyungs on the floor, the corner of his mouth quirking into a mocking smile as he says, "Or maybe you're just too scared to find out who she prefers? I guess it might be better for you to give up now Hobi hyung, if you're not confident that you can beat Seokjin hyung."
Your lips part in surprise as you realize that Jimin is serious about his proposal, that he's trying to goad them into competing. It's a low blow and an obvious one too, but you don't think Hoseok and Seokjin care – not when Jimin is openly questioning their ability to pleasure you.
Seeing Hoseok's brows furrow in thought, Jimin returns his attention to you. He leans forward to slot your mouths together, taking advantage of the access you've given him as he pulls you into a deep kiss. His tongue dips past your lips right away, curling around your own as he holds you still. You can't help the moan that tumbles out as Jimin ravages your mouth, the sounds wet and filthy as he kisses you passionately.
You slump into Jimin's arms, letting him take full control of the kiss. It's only when you start to turn lightheaded that you turn your head away, gasping for air as Jimin moves his mouth to your jaw. You glance with hooded eyes down at the floor as you attempt to catch your breath, your stomach doing a flip as you notice how affected Hoseok and Seokjin seem. They're both turned on by the little show Jimin put on for them, their bulges prominent and straining against their pants.
The tension in the room is palpable. Seokjin and Hoseok look like they're teetering on the edge between hesitance and hunger – both wanting what Jimin is proposing, but still holding themselves back from accepting it.
You know Jimin can sense it by the way he makes you moan as he sucks your skin between his teeth, leaving his mark on your delicate throat. He lets out a low chuckle at the sharp intake of breath he hears from Seokjin.
"If the two of you aren't going to pleasure Y/n then you better say your goodnights now. I'll make sure to fuck her twice as good as either of you ever could. Hmm.. Do you think she'll even remember your names once I'm done?" He purrs against your neck, kissing his way back up to your lips.
"What do you think, baby? Should the two of us go upstairs, or do you want to see what the hyungs can do to you?"
While you don't particularly agree with Jimin's methods, you can't deny the fact that you have been curious about when Seokjin and Hoseok were going to get intimate with you. You've had countless make-out sessions with each of them, heavy petting involved, but it's never gone beyond that. The boys have been giving you some space to settle in properly and get your bearings in the new house but you've reached the point where you're honestly a little desperate to be touched. You want them to fuck you. And for all of Jimin's schemes, even you can agree that this one sounds fun – hot, even.
"I–" You shudder at the way Jimin presses his thumb against the bruise he left, eyes fluttering closed as you shyly admit, "I wouldn't m-mind, but I don't want to pressure them–"
"Fuck," Hoseok curses, pushing himself to his feet, "Whatever, I'm in."
He sends a sharp look down at Seokjin, "You better not chicken out."
"Yeah, hyung," Jimin chimes in, "Are you forfeiting your chance to finally fuck Y/n? Who knows when you'll be able to do it later when she has five other soulmates who already know her body so well."
Seokjin's jaw is clenched so tight it looks like it's going to break, his expression stormy as his eyes jump from person to person. His gaze lingers on you for longer, drinks in how affected you look after just a little kissing, how eager you seem to finally have your final two soulmates at your mercy. Even if he imagined your first time together to be a little more romantic and with a lot less Jimin, Seokjin can't deny that it's exciting to be able to prove himself as the best lover out of the group.
"I'm not forfeiting anything," Seokjin huffs, standing up to join Hoseok. "I'll win this fair and square. Just don't be too sad when Angel picks me as the best lover, yeah?"
Hoseok doesn't deign Seokjin with an answer, his sights already set on you. He brushes past his hyung with long strides, scooping you out of Jimin's arms and into his own. Hoseok rounds the coffee table to place you down on the other side, creating some space between you and the others, drawing a line he doesn't want anyone to cross.
You lean back against the table as he squats down in front of you, watching him with wide eyes as he reaches out to trace your bottom lip with one of his fingers.
"Sunshine, don't you think you're being too much of a tease?"
Hoseok's gaze hardens as you inadvertently swipe your tongue along the line he just traced, your lip tingling from his touch. You feel the back of your neck flush as you realize what you just did, feeling bashful as you drop your gaze down to the floor.
The denial sits on the tip of your tongue, but you can't make yourself utter the words. Jimin is the one who was teasing them, firing them up, but you didn't exactly stop him either, did you? You're not ashamed to admit that you've been wanting Hoseok and Seokjin for a while now, and Jimin has practically served them up on a silver platter for you.
"I–" You swallow thickly as you glance up and meet Hoseok's dark gaze, "I'm sorry?"
Hoseok's mouth quirks, "I don't think you are, Y/n."
Heat pools low in your stomach at Hoseok's astute observation, your thighs clenching helplessly under his sharp gaze.
"You deserve a little punishment for that, sunshine, don't you agree?" He hums.
The last time you were 'punished' was humiliating and not something you had agreed to at all. But this time, you're given the option to deny him, to walk away if you so wish. Despite everything they've done, you know they don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do.
Truthfully, it does make you a little nervous to give Hoseok full control, but the soulbond will never settle until you show him that you're willing to put your full trust in him.
"Yes," You weakly agree, embarrassed, knowing that he's looking for a verbal answer.
Hoseok gives a pleased smile at your compliance, his fiery exterior cracking momentarily until he reins himself back in.
"Good. Get on your hands and knees, Y/n, you're allowed to use the table for support if you need it."
The flush on the back of your neck spreads up to your face as you do as you're told. You turn around, crawling forward on your hands and knees until you're upper body is resting on the coffee table, the position naturally pushing your bottom out. You suck your lip between your teeth as you look ahead to find Jimin cupping himself above his pants, his smile wicked. Seokjin has made his way onto the same couch, his usually sweet face all stoic and difficult to read as he watches you and Hoseok. His hands are digging into his jeans, resisting the urge to touch himself and follow in Jimin's footsteps.
You lower your head as Hoseok positions himself behind you, his hands landing on the swell of your ass. He places a hand on each cheek, letting out a low groan as he kneads the flesh.
"I think ten should do it for your punishment this time, sunshine," Hoseok says, warming up the area by alternating between squeezing and rubbing his palms in circles over your cheeks.
"Okay," You say, your belly swooping with nervous anticipation.
"Hoseok," Seokjin hisses, a warning that gets shushed by Jimin.
For a moment, too wrapped up in Hoseok's dominating aura, you had forgotten that they would all feel your punishment. Just like they did back then in the cabin.
Before you can change your mind though, Jimin adds a decisive, "If our baby can handle it, then you can handle it too, hyung."
Seokjin sighs, clearly not willing to put up the fight. "Fine."
Both of Hoseok's hands fall away at that, leaving you exposed to receive your punishment. Hoseok's shirt rustles as he raises his hand and it's the only warning you get before his palm lands heavy on your ass, the impact knocking your breath out of your lungs. The next six spanks come in quick succession, each harder than the last. It's only a small mercy that your skin is still covered, the sting still intense despite the slight padding between you and Hoseok's palm. The noises you've been trying so hard to suppress tumble out at the seventh blow, a strangled gasp passing through your lips as he makes contact.
"Good girl," Hoseok praises, pausing his hits to allow you a moment to regain your breath. He tuts as you try to pull away from the fingers stroking over your smarting cheeks. "Don't make me add more, Y/n. Take the rest of your punishment properly and I promise I'll reward you."
You take a few deep breaths, nodding to let Hoseok know that you'll behave.
The final three slaps are so forceful you're sure you're going to bruise, your body jolting forward over the table as the smacks rain down on your ass. You cry out at the last one, the sound caught between a moan and a whimper as your heart pounds in your chest.
"Fuck, that's hot," Jimin curses, palming himself harder. "Stings like a bitch, though," He whines under his breath.
Hoseok goes back to massaging your cheeks, soothing the hurt down to a more manageable level. His fingers drift up to the waistband of your sweats, hooking into the fabric before he pauses and asks, "Are you ready for your reward now, sunshine?"
"Please," You whimper.
You lift your knees to help Hoseok pull your sweats and underwear off all in one go, legs shaking as you barely manage to raise yourself enough from the table to remove your shirt after.
"Look at you," Hoseok murmurs, gliding his fingers all over your exposed skin. He follows the curve of your spine, only stopping briefly to thumb across your burning cheeks before he drags his hands down your calves. Your breath hitches as he suddenly spreads your legs.
You're mortified to discover that Hoseok's punishment has made you wet, dripping, without you noticing it, your cunt clenching helplessly under Hoseok's burning gaze. "So pretty."
You gasp as Hoseok drags a finger through your slit, rubbing and spreading the wetness all over your cunt. He stills near your entrance, teasing you by barely dipping his finger in before he slides it back up to your clit. The slow rubs around your nub cause your thighs to shake, your senses overwhelmed as he repeats the motion over and over.
"Hoseok, please," You whimper, pushing your hips against his finger as he teasingly tries to dip it in again, the movement swallowing him up to the second knuckle.
"Are you being impatient, Y/n?"
Hoseok pushes his finger deeper, feeling along your walls before he pulls out to add another one, the slide in easy with how turned on you are. It feels good to finally have something filling you up, your cunt clenching desperately around his digits whenever he goes to pull out.
"I'll let it slide just this once, sunshine. It seems your cunt is hungry for something more."
The next thrust of his fingers is harder, slightly curled, and you let out a loud moan as he bumps directly against your sweet spot. Two fingers turn to three, stretching your walls out in preparation for Hoseok's cock. You keep mindlessly moving your hips back, meeting every thrust of his fingers in hopes that you'll take him deeper, feel fuller. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter and tighter, desperate for that final burst of pleasure to tip you over the scale.
"Wait–" You gasp, throwing a look over your shoulder as Hoseok removes his fingers, your cunt empty and aching with nothing in it.
"Don't worry," Hoseok presses himself flush with your back, his lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm giving you what you want. Your sweet little pussy just needs a hard cock to fuck it good, hmm?"
He rolls his hips against yours, the hardness in his jeans unmistakable. You let out a low keen, breathless as you admit, "Yes, yes, I need it."
"You'll get it, sunshine," Hoseok presses open-mouthed kisses to your shoulders as he works his pants down his hips, his hard cock springing up against his stomach as he frees it from his boxers. Hoseok groans as he wraps one hand around himself, thumbing at his slit to spread the pre-come with a few quick pumps up and down his length.
You both let out a moan as Hoseok rubs the head of his cock through your folds, making it even wetter. He positions himself at your opening, one hand gripping your waist as he pushes inside. Your walls open easily, practically sucking in half of his cock in one go. With how relaxed and eager you are, it only takes one firm thrust from Hoseok to bury the rest of him inside of you.
"Oh gods," You groan, your fingers scrambling over the waxed tabletop for support as you desperately clamp down around his cock.
"Are you ready, Y/n?" Hoseok places both hands on your waist, holding you still. He draws his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside your cunt, teasing. You feel him twitch as you clench around him, his usually composed voice wavering just the slightest as he says, "I'll give you everything you need, you just have to ask."
Your pride is already long gone, vanished into thin air at the first touch of Hoseok's skilled fingers. You're not above begging, not if it'll finally sate the arousal licking up the inside of your stomach.
"Please fuck me, Hobi," You whine.
The grip on your waist tightens, Hoseok's fingers digging into your flesh as he finally gets to hear the words he's only been dreaming about for so long. His eyes are dark are he stares down at your body, as he memorizes the way your cunt clings to his cock, aching to be filled. Not even the loud groan coming from the couch is enough to tear his gaze away, not when he has such a perfect vision right in front of him.
"As you wish, my sunshine."
You have no way of preparing yourself for the way Hoseok snaps his hips forward, slamming into your cunt so hard it makes your back arch. Your arms give out under the brutal pace he sets, your hands fruitlessly gliding across the table for something to hold on to as he punches his cock in with every deep thrust. It's only the tight grip Hoseok has on your hips that keeps you from sliding across the surface.
Your head feels like it's filled with static, no thoughts forming beyond more, please, more, as Hoseok moves in and out of you. The harsh noise of Hoseok's skin slapping against yours causes another gush of arousal to wet your cunt, making it sound absolutely sloppy as he delivers another hard thrust, your slick squelching around his cock.
"Fuck– Fucking hell, Y/n," Hoseok growls, the sound spurring him on as he lowers his thighs to snap his hips even faster, "Are you that desperate for cock, baby?"
Your next moan is torn from your throat as the new angle causes Hoseok's cock to bump straight into your sweet spot, the unrelenting hammering of his length making you see stars. You can't even close your mouth properly to stop the drool that slides past your lips, your whole body numb with pleasure.
Hoseok grunts as your walls flutter around him, his gaze flickering from the dazed expression on your face to the couch. He smirks as he sees Jimin with his hand around his cock, the younger's half-lidded eyes watching your fucked out expression intently as he strokes his length. Seokjin has finally caved too, palming himself slowly over his underwear, jeans discharged to the side.
Hoseok grins as he meets Seokjin's narrowed eyes, his thrusts slowing down in favor of grinding his hips in deep, slow circles. One of his hands slides from your waist to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to pull your head up. It leaves you staring straight at Seokjin and Jimin, moans and whimpers falling freely from your parted mouth as Hoseok pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
Hoseok pats your side, voice a little mean as he says, "Did you already forget about our competition, Y/n? I need you to look at hyung while I fuck you and let him know that he won't be able to get the same pretty sounds out of you as I am."
"Can you do that, sunshine?"
You shudder as he tugs on your hair, the faint sting traveling straight down to your cunt.
"Y-yes," You gasp, getting your hands under your just enough to raise your head on your own, holding the position Hoseok has left you in.
His fingers drift back down to your waist, ghosting over the skin there before he slips between your legs, grazing over your clit. The contact makes you jolt, and you both moan as it drives his cock deeper into your cunt.
"That's right, it's time for your reward, baby."
He starts rubbing circles against your clit as his thrusts once again turn sharper, quicker. You have to fight to keep your eyes open, to keep holding Seokjin's burning gaze as you're pounded into the table. Being watched so openly, so attentively, only turns you on more. Your whole body is shaking, muscles pulled tight, as the wave of pleasure in your belly begins to crest. You know there's no way you can hold back, not with how determined Hoseok is to make you explode. You're bringing Hoseok there right along with you though, your cunt clenching so sweetly around his cock that he knows he's not going to last very long.
It's a particularly deep thrust combined with Hoseok rolling your clit between his fingers that finally sends you over the edge. You cry out as you reach your climax, trembling as your release washes over you. Hoseok groans as your walls clamp down around him with a vice grip, his hips glued to yours as he grinds once, twice, before stiffening as his orgasm hits. You moan weakly as you feel his come spurt into your cunt, flooding it with warmth.
You're not quite sure when your eyes slipped shut, but when you open them, you find Seokjin practically looming over you from the couch, jaw clenched. He must've pulled his cock out at some point, the length flushed red from the slow, unsatisfying drag of his fingers. You whimper as Hoseok presses a tender kiss to the back of your neck, Seokjin darkly watching the action like he's one second away from throwing Hoseok to the side to take his place.
"You're amazing, Y/n," Hoseok says, massaging your sides as he slowly shuffles back and slips out of you.
You let your head drop to the table, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Hoseok keeps rubbing your back until your limbs stop shaking and you feel a little more like yourself.
"Angel," Seokjin calls from the couch, "Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop if you're tired."
You push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lip as you take in the sight of Seokjin's hand wrapped around his hard cock, squeezing the base to keep his release from building without you. It twitches under your attention, another pearl of pre-come dripping out of the tip to slick up his length even more, coating his flushed skin.
"I'm sure," You nod, glancing up at him through your lashes as you say, "Need you."
"Fuck, alright," Seokjin curses, gripping his cock even tighter. "Come here then, angel, and you'll get what you want."
The simmering heat in your belly roars back to life at Seokjin's words. You carefully push yourself up until you're standing on your feet, Hoseok's hands curled around your arms for support. You can feel Hoseok's come shift in your belly as take a step forward, whining as a bit drips out of your cunt and trails down to your thigh.
Hoseok tsks. "You better keep all of that inside, sunshine. Don't waste another drop."
You clench your walls tight, stumbling awkwardly over to the couch as you try to heed Hoseok's warning. Seokjin has already rid himself of his clothes by the time you reach him, his strong hands pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him.
"Hi, angel," Seokjin smiles, cupping your face to run his thumb across your cheek. He winds the other around your middle, holding you close to his chest.
You practically melt into Seokjin's gentle embrace, nuzzling into his warm hand, "Hi yourself."
Seokjin pulls you down to connect your lips with his, the softness of the first few pecks quickly turning more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You bring your hands behind his neck, gliding your fingers through the soft hair there to tug him closer. The way Seokjin kisses you, hungry yet tender at the same time, leaves your head spinning. He swallows up the moan you let out, tongue twirling around yours as he uses his grip on your waist to grind you against his cock.
You gasp at the first contact, at the feel of his hard cock slipping through your folds, bumping against your clit. You clench helplessly as Hoseok's come begins to leak out of your hole, your walls too stretched to hold it in. The spread of your legs makes it even harder, and the grind of Seokjin's length just arouses you more, making your cunt flutter with the need of being full again. You scrape your teeth along Seokjin's plush lips, whining as you say, "I-I can't–"
His mouth pauses against yours as he feels something wet drip onto his thigh, understanding dawning on him as he feels your skin heat up with embarrassment. Seokjin removes his hand from your cheek in favor of bringing it down to your dripping cunt, scooping up the come clinging to your cunt before he fingers it back into you.
"So messy," He murmurs, mouthing along your jaw as he adds another finger, pumping them slowly back and forth, pushing all of it deeper inside your pussy. The wet sucking sound of your cunt eagerly accepting it all back in makes you moan, eyes slipping shut as you hide your face in Seokjin's neck.
He lets out a low chuckle at your shyness, removing his fingers to replace them with his cock. You mewl into Seokjin's neck as he guides his cock into you steadily, the hand on your waist slowly bringing you down until you're fully seated on his length. You can feel it throbbing deep in your guts, your breaths shaky as you adjust to him.
"Gods, you feel so good," Seokjin moans as your wet, warm walls welcome him in, your and Hoseok's release slicking his cock. He moves both of his hands to your hips, gently rubbing the red marks Hoseok left there.
You lightly raise yourself up before you sink back down, getting yourself used to the position and Seokjin's cock. You move your hands to his shoulders, setting a slow pace that gradually picks up as Seokjin's hands begin to roam. Your hips stutter as he reaches up to cup one of your breasts, flicking your nipple teasingly before he rolls it between his fingers, tugging on it in a way that makes your cunt vibrate with pleasure. He moans at the response he gets, his dark eyes drinking you in.
"Love your breasts," Seokjin groans, leaning forward to take it into his mouth, "You shouldn't keep them covered up, angel."
"Seokjin, fuck," You dig your nails into his back as he closes his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub. Your next drop down on Seokjin's cock is a little harsher than before, a choked moan leaving you as your pleasure once again begins to build. Seokjin gives your other breast the same treatment, steadily rocking his hips up to meet yours as you ride him.
He gives your nipple another swipe of his tongue before he kisses his way back up to your neck, biting down in a way you know is going to bruise. He wets the skin to soothe it, repeating the motion all over your throat as you reward him with pretty, breathy whimpers. You eventually grow restless and duck down to capture his mouth, the kisses filthy and messy as you keep rolling your hips.
"Pretty," Seokjin moans between kisses, "You're so pretty, Y/n. Absolutely amazing."
It's only when your thighs start shaking, burning with tiredness, that Seokjin takes over. His large hands grasp your ass, keeping a tight grip on your cheeks as he raises his knees to fuck into you. Seokjin picks up the pace from where you left off, his hands moving your body down to meet every thrust, impaling you on his cock with every stroke. He grunts as you clench down around him when he reaches particularly deep, brushing over your sweet spot.
You slump against Seokjin's chest as he truly begins to lose his restraint, moaning against his skin as he pounds into you. The sting of your red cheeks slapping against Seokjin's hard thighs with every thrust just makes the fire in your stomach roar, the pleasure pain of it getting you to the finish line faster.
You try to meet his thrust the best you can but the way Seokjin reaches so deep into your belly leaves you feeling a little dumbstruck, floaty. It's like your muscles have turned to jelly.
Your cunt sounds sloppy as Seokjin hammers into you, fucking you so hard you swear you can see the outline of his cock in your stomach. Moans and whines fall freely from your lips, Seokjin's name gasped out with every thrust. Your oldest soulmate is feeling more competitive than he first let on and for a half second, you worry he might actually fuck you stupid in his quest to make you come harder than Hoseok could.
You can feel him tensing up more with every thrust, as close to exploding as you are, the sounds of your skin slapping together echoing through the room. You don't want to come too soon, not without letting Seokjin finish too, but his next words do you in.
"You can let go now, angel," Seokjin half groans, half murmurs between one stroke and the next, "It's time to fill your pretty pussy to the brim – to stuff you full just like you wanted."
You cunt spasms the moment you get permission to come, your walls hugging Seokjin's cock so firmly he can barely move his hips as your release hits you like a freight train. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Seokjin grinds you down against his cock, your clit rubbing over his toned stomach. Your moans are unintelligible, slurred, as Seokjin keeps up his pace for another dozen thrusts. It prolongs your orgasm, your toes curling as Seokjin finally hits his own high.
His loud moan sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you, your cunt massaging his length as he spills into it with hot spurts. Your arms are shaking like a leaf as you push yourself up, just enough to look at Seokjin's face.
He's a sight to behold with his head thrown back, his flushed chest rising and falling with every hard breath. His hair is messy from you tugging on it, his skin glowing with the sheen of sweat that has settled on you both. He looks beautiful.
You clumsily kiss his swollen lips, your body still too fucked out to work properly.
Seokjin opens his eyes slowly, grinning as he says, "There's my pretty girl."
"Are you feeling okay?" He winds his arms around your back, plastering you against his racing heart.
You open and close your mouth a few times, feeling dehydrated and exhausted, the words just a little too far out of your reach.
You blink as Jimin suddenly pops into view, his smile bordering on feral as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "Oh, our poor baby is completely cock drunk," He coos.
You whine out a protest, too tired to engage in Jimin's teasing. He's also not... entirely wrong.
"Thank you for the show, baby, you looked so fucking good," Jimin groans, adjusting himself in his sweats. He must have come while Seokjin was fucking you, too excited by the view in front of him to keep up with his comments. One of Seokjin's moans had sounded a little airer than normal, so you can only conclude that it was Jimin, hitting his own release while you were chasing yours.
"It's a shame you're on birth control, otherwise the hyungs would've bred you so well," He pouts, his eyes shining with something wicked at the reaction it causes.
You can't help but clench down around Seokjin, the dirty talk hot despite you not being close to ready to have kids.
"Jimin," Seokjin warns, his cock twitching with interest inside your warm cunt.
Even Hoseok lets out a pained groan from where he's perched on a nearby chair, his cock half-hard in his jeans.
"Fine," Jimin huffs. He brushes his lips against yours, tone sweet as he asks, "Well then, baby, who won the competition? Which hyung fucked you the best?"
You watch Hoseok tense up just as Seokjin's arms tighten around you, both anxious to know the result. You share a sly look with Jimin – one that makes him chuckle and shake his head – before you turn your face into Seokjin's neck, hiding your smile as you say, "Mhm.. It's a tie."
"What do you think?"
You smack your lips together, savoring the slightly tangy sauce. Yoongi watches you carefully, the spoon still hovering near your lips.
"It's good!" You grin, "I think it's perfect."
Yoongi's smile turns into a pout as he glances down at the spoon, "Ah, but now I can't taste it. Hyung would kill me if I double-dipped."
"Can't you just grab–"
Your words are cut off by Yoongi's lips, a sweet kiss being pressed against your mouth. He lightly sucks your bottom lip between his own, his tongue just barely dipping into your mouth. He flashes you a gummy smile as he pulls back, nodding in satisfaction, "You're right, it is perfect."
"Hey!" You whine, lightly hitting his shoulder, "You totally set me up."
Your heart flutters as Yoongi leans in again, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he says, "Maybe."
He steals another kiss before he turns back to the simmering pot in front of him, the spoon abandoned in the sink. You huff, stepping up behind him to rest your head against his back, your arms wrapping around his middle. Yoongi always smells like forest and warmth, something pleasant you just want to lie down and sleep in.
Yoongi hums a low tune as you stand there, basking in the warmth of his body and the promise of a tasty lunch. He places one hand on top of yours, petting your skin, as he slowly stirs the pot with the other.
"Hyung, I'm hungry!"
You open your eyes to find Taehyung walking into the kitchen, rubbing his stomach with a pout. He brightens up as he sees you, the magazines in his hand thrown to the counter as he quickly rounds it to attach himself to your back.
"Babe, I thought you were still in bed," Taehyung whines against your neck.
"Got hungry," You giggle. You lean more of your weight onto Yoongi, laughing as he complains about having two clingy brats as soulmates. You can see the fond smile on his face as you peek over his shoulder, the way he easily braces his feet to accept the two bodies practically lying on top of him.
"Oh right! How long until the food is ready, hyung? I'm starving," Taehyung sighs dramatically. "My client is a fucking ass, he went almost an hour over time in our meeting complaining about things I can't even fix. It's not my fault his secretary is useless."
"I'm sorry, Tae. Can't you drop him if he's being too unreasonable?" You ask.
Taehyung grumbles against your neck, his body tight with tension, "I wish. He brings too much money to the company to even consider ending the contract with him. He knows he can act like an ass and get away with it because he's practically paying us to babysit him."
Yoongi lets out an annoyed snort, shaking his head as he says, "I hate to say it, but he's not going to be the only shitty client you're going to have to deal with. It comes with the job."
"I know, hyung," Taehyung sighs. "But you know what's not shitty? Your cooking! And having some of your food would definitely brighten me up."
"Brat," Yoongi chuckles. "It'll be done in five minutes, you can go grab some plates while it finishes cooking."
Taehyung gives the back of your head a loud smooch before he skips over to one of the cupboards, doing as Yoongi instructed.
You finally detach yourself from Yoongi's back, smiling at Taehyung's antics as you glance over at the magazines he dropped off earlier. You reach out to shuffle through them, none of them particularly piquing your interest until you catch sight of a flyer tucked between two pages.
You carefully pull it out, excitement thrumming through your body as you realize it's for a flower parade. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of the town name, knowing it's a city that's only about an hour away from your old one. You're not sure if the house is within its limit or if it's just a neighboring one, but it does finally give you an idea of where you are. You quickly glance up at Taehyung and Yoongi, deliberately placing your thumb over the name as you notice that neither of them has seen you with it yet.
"What's this?" You softly clear your throat, grabbing Yoongi's attention as you show it to him.
You see Yoongi's shoulders rise, his eyes frantically scanning the flyer until he sees your thumb. He motions for the paper, angling it away from you once it's in his hands, making sure the town name can't be seen.
"Ah, this," He gives you a slightly uneasy smile, "It's an annual flower parade they do in the town over to celebrate the beginning of summer. It says it's supposed to happen next weekend."
You keep your expression schooled, tucking away that new piece of information into the back of your mind.
"That sounds like fun! Do you think we could go?" You ask, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "I would love to see it."
You're beginning to border on frantic for a change of scenery, for something that isn't just the four walls of this house. The garden does help and you have been allowed on a few walks around the neighbourhood, but it isn't enough. You will go stir crazy at some point or another if they keep you cooped up here forever.
"What flower parade?" Taehyung walks over to Yoongi, peering down at the flyer. You cheer inwardly as Taehyung's smile broadens to a grin, a pleading expression taking over his face as he says, "Hyung, that looks like so much fun. We should all go watch it!"
You know that Taehyung has a penchant for flowers, that he loves them almost as much as Seokjin does. After all, there's a reason you always received them along with your letters.
"I don't know," Yoongi chews on his bottom lip, eyeing the flyer nervously.
"Hyung," Taehyung whines, "pleaseeee. You know I love stuff like this."
"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" You propose, knowing you need to calm Yoongi's worried thoughts before he settles on a firm no.
"We'll only do it if everyone wants to go. I would love to experience it with you guys though–" You muster up a soft smile, your heart squeezing painfully at the truth as you say, "I've always wanted to do something like that with my soulmate. It seems really romantic."
Yoongi's gaze is unreadable as he stares down at the flyer. You're almost holding your breath by the time his shoulders finally sag, his voice defeated as he murmurs, "Sure, if that's something you want, we'll discuss it later."
You giggle behind your hand as Taehyung tackles Yoongi into a hug, your heart racing in your chest. As long as you play your cards right, you might finally get that taste of freedom you've been wanting for so long. Luckily for you, after almost eight months trapped together with your soulmates, you know just what buttons to push to sway the boys to your will.
It only takes some begging and a little sweet talk to win the rest of the boys over. Their unease and suspicion quickly melt away as you murmur sweetly about how romantic you find the event – and that while you are nervous about the crowds (a lie), you wouldn't mind it as long as they stick close to you. Taehyung and Seokjin's enthusiasm for it works in your favor too, as Seokjin's bubbling excitement over finally getting to experience the flower parade erases the last of Yoongi's anxieties.
The week leading up to the parade passes syrupy slow, the days dragging on as if they're mocking you. You're a bundle of nerves by the time you're driving into the city, squirming in your seat as you get closer and closer to your goal. If everything goes well during the parade, you'll be one step closer to earning their full trust – to them letting you go.
The blindfold around your head comes off the moment the car passes by the town sign, the boys still taking whatever precautions they can to limit your knowledge about where you are. You already know, of course, but you have no intention of letting that slip. It's better if they think that you don't.
"Here we are, darling," Namjoon offers you his hand as he opens the door for you. His grip is iron-tight as you intertwine your fingers, clearly on edge as you step out to join the rest of the group.
There's an air of tension wrapped around them all as they flock around you, one that doesn't dissipate even when they flank you at all sides as you walk further into town. Jimin has claimed the other side of your body, wrapping one of his arms snuggly around your waist, anchoring you to him. Nervous.
Hoseok and Jungkook keep throwing glances over their shoulders as they walk in front of you, making sure you're still there whenever you go quiet for more than a few seconds. You can practically feel Taehyung and Seokjin breathing down your neck, their steps matching yours perfectly as they hold up the back. Yoongi keeps drifting back and forth like he can't quite decide where he should be to best ensure your safety.
It should be suffocating but their behavior is simply pushed to the back of your mind, unimportant, when you finally lay eyes on actual people, strangers, crossing the street in front of you. A lump forms in the back of your throat as you watch a group of friends spill out of a nearby shop, their laughter echoing in your ears long after they've passed you by.
The town is loud and bustling, music seeping out from every building you pass by. They've embraced the parade to the fullest, decorating the pathways with beautiful florals hanging from every lamp post and flower archways adorning some of the more expensive shops. It's like you've stepped into an explosion of colour as you reach the main street, no stone left undecorated and flowers clinging to every possible surface. The people milling about are just as colourful, the majority of them wearing bright, fun clothing, their faces painted with different patterns and artistic renditions of florals. You've heard talk of this parade before but you had no idea it was this big of a deal, that the townspeople take such pride in the event.
"I think there's an available spot over there!" Jungkook points to somewhere in the middle of the street, leading the group over to the area he saw. It's just big enough for all of you to squeeze into, leaving you almost first in line on the sidewalk to watch the parade.
You've barely planted your feet on the ground when you hear a couple occupy the spot behind you, the rest of the sidewalk filling up quickly as the start of the event draws near.
You look around, taking in the sights around you, your senses a little overwhelmed with the colours and noise after so many months of nothing but your soulmates for company. Your heart is picking up speed, matching the sound of distant drums as your gaze glides from couple to couple, their bright expressions and relaxed postures nothing like the love you know.
The couples across the street hold their lover's hand gently, arms resting loosely around their shoulders to provide a safe bubble against the crowds around them. They lean into each other's bodies for comfort, to bear the ache of standing on their feet for a long time.
Your lovers hold your hand with bruising grips, arms wound around your body like snakes, constricting you tighter and tighter with every breath. There's no comfort in their embrace, not when they cling to you with desperation – like they'd bury themselves under your skin if they only could.
You swallow thickly, your palm going clammy in Namjoon's tight hold.
"You okay, darling?" Namjoon asks, leaning down to make sure you hear him over the crowd.
"I'm fine," You lie, offering him a faint smile, "It's just a lot of people."
"Let me know the moment it becomes too much and we'll leave," Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a worried look. He doesn't turn away until you reassure him that you're okay, your mouth dry with the untruths that keep spilling from it.
You can feel the sun beating down your neck, pearls of sweat forming along your back, sending shivers down your spine as they race down it. Seokjin, now in front of you, is taking pictures, capturing every little detail of the flower arrangements and different colourful species that have been grouped together along the street. The shutter of his camera sounds like bullets firing through the air, quickening your pulse with every snap.
"There it is!" Taehyung grins, pointing down the street.
Your vision feels like it's swimming as you turn your head to look, the drums so loud they force your heart to skip to the beat, sending it into a frenzy. You stare in a daze as people dance and cheer as they walk past you, flower petals raining down as they throw handfuls out of the baskets they're carrying. A float pauses in front of you, the florals an organized mess of every colour you can imagine. There's a particular arrangement you can't look away from, one that fills your stomach with dread.
It's them.
The tower in the middle of the float is made up of red, pink, purple, blue, green, yellow, and orange flowers, the same kaleidoscope of colors that have been haunting you for the past years.
It's like a punch to the gut, reality suddenly snapping back into place. The cheers around you turn muffled, your mind reeling with the possibilities you've been suppressing for so long.
Your mind flashes back to the police station you saw as you drove into town.
This city must be far enough away from your old one that Jimin won't have any connections here. The chances are slim that there are any officers here that are enamored with him, that worship him, like they do where he currently works. They might have heard of him and how he saved Jungkook, but you doubt they would dismiss your case just based on his reputation. Jimin might have already been talking to the officers in your new town, just in case you try something stupid, so this – this might be your only chance at getting real help.
Heejun and Jaemin will for sure corroborate your story, and if the officers are quick, they should be able to secure the needed evidence. You know exactly where your old letters and gifts are stored in the attic. Hell, some of them are even displayed around the house. It shouldn't be difficult to find something incriminating.
But–
Your gaze sweeps to the side, lingering on the boys. Jungkook's precious bunny smile is on display as he watches the dancers move around the street, a hint of awe in his eyes. Taehyung is practically hanging off Seokjin's back, pointing to everything he wants Seokjin to capture with his camera. The boys look mesmerized by the parade, their earlier tension eased by the excitement in the air.
Your soul feels split in half, torn between what you want and what you should do. You don't want to leave them, despite everything they've put you through. They are your soulmates and over the past months, you've grown to really, really like them. The thought of leaving them hurts you, makes your heart ache something fierce, but you also know that you can never have a proper life if you stay. You are terribly worried about what might happen to them – the bond – if you go away, but you're also limiting the possibilities of ever finding a cure for their sickness if you don't. Maybe there's someone out there who can help you and them if you only look.
Jimin's arm has fallen away from your waist during the parade, his hands around his mouth as he cheers for the performers.
You slowly ease your hand out of Namjoon's grip, hoping your smile isn't as shaky as it feels as you quickly explain, "I just need to tie my shoe."
Your knees nearly buckle as Namjoon gives you a once over, terrified that he might somehow catch you out. But Namjoon simply just smiles, showing off his dimples as he nods and turns back to watch the parade.
You take a step back, crouching down to tie your slightly loose shoelace. Flower petals keep flitting around you, carried by the wind as they swoop and dance across the ground. You secure your shoe with a tight knot, the tips of your fingers so cold you can barely feel them from the anxiety crashing around inside your body.
You slowly stand back up, taking another small step back.
None of the boys reach out for you, recapture you, their attention caught by the spectacle in front of them. Your group has been moved around by the crowd enough that another step has you standing behind all of them, watching with labored breath as you wait for their realization that you're not anchored to any of them.
It doesn't come.
The chaos of the parade provides you with the cover you need to inch back, the loud drums and petals covering the ground muffling your footsteps. Your eyes flicker wildly between the seven of them, trying to figure out if any of them have noticed you beginning to slip away, but all you see is the boys laughing and smiling, their focus somewhere else.
The couple that was standing behind you is now in front of you, their bodies forming a small wall, a shield, against your soulmates. The crowd behind you easily part as you advance backward, eager for a chance to get a closer look at the parade. Your body feels like a live wire, dread and adrenaline pumping through your veins at a rate that leaves you dizzy.
Your heart is a jumbled mess of stay, go, stay, go – but your mind knows what it needs to do.
You take a mental picture of the sight in front of you, saving the image of the boys looking happy and beautiful, surrounded by warm sunlight and fluttering petals.
For later. As a reminder that things could be good.
It's only once you've reached the back of the street, the distance between you and them so wide that you can barely see Namjoon's head as he slowly turns to where you once stood, waving hands partially obscuring his face as his expression twists into despair, that you let crowd swallow you whole and run.
a/n: thank you all so much for following along with this story for over three years!! what was supposed to be a short 20k fic suddenly turned into one that was 120k haha, but i've had so much fun working on LS and reading all of your theories have been amazing! 💖 thank you to everyone who voted in the original poll, this story is a collab between you and me :')
i know that the ending will leave some of you with a lot of questions and i can answer the most important one right away: No, I don't have any current plans for a sequel. I have told the story I wanted to tell and I'm happy with where it ended :) However, I might be open to doing some commissions down the line of "missing" scenes from the story if that's something you guys want!
it would mean the absolute world to me if you'd leave me a comment/reblog and let me know what you think of the final chapter! 💖 and if you'd feel so inclined, i do have a kofi if you'd like to support me with a coffee!
thank you all so much again!! i do have a few exciting fics coming up so i do hope you stick around for those!
lots of love, maggy.
#yandere bts#bts smut#bts x reader#yandere x reader#yandere yoongi#yandere jungkook#yandere jimin#hoseok smut#seokjin smut#yandere seokjin#yandere taehyung#yandere namjoon#yandere hoseok
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Do you want me to help you?
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: As you and Bucky spend time at your place, things get hot pretty fast.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, subby Bucky, he's jetting his first blow job, come eating.
Author's note: enjoy<3
It was another Friday night when you invited Bucky to your place so you could order some food, watch movies, and cuddle under the blankets.
You and Bucky met almost six months ago at the coffee shop. You were walking in when someone suddenly bumped into you, and you ended up lying on the ground with a large coffee stain on your pink blouse. The man who caused this mess ended up being an Avenger. Sergeant Barnes, a former Winter Soldier, was really cute when he got all nervous and couldn’t stop apologizing for the situation. He said that he really needed to be somewhere else, so he took your number with a promise to pay you for everything and ran away, leaving you with shock and excitement bubbling in your body.
You were too stunned to speak, because not only was it an Avenger, but it was Bucky fucking Barnes—the person whose whole biography you willingly studied in school. He was much taller than you imagined and definitely more attractive. His apologies seemed to be really sincere, so you were just stupidly nodding while he was speaking. Bucky asked for your phone so he could call himself and have your number until he would have time to properly make amends.
Then you didn’t know that you had just met your future boyfriend.
Soon he called you and asked you to meet him at the cafe, and you agreed without any hesitation. He was too sweet for his own good, and that minidate was one of the best experiences that you’ve ever had.
Now, you don’t know how you ended up in this situation, but you were sitting on Bucky’s lap on your couch while the two of you were too lost in the kiss.
Of course, you have already kissed, but most of the time it wasn’t too rough or desperate. You knew that Bucky had hard times trusting people, so you didn’t push him with anything. You were happy just to be with him, and if he needed time to start touching you or have sex, it was okay.
But right now, something has changed. His hands were gripping your thighs, pushing you harder on his erection in the jeans. Bucky kissed you like a starving man; his tongue was in your mouth, and he had already bit your lower lip several times. You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t even notice that you started moving your body against his.
At that moment, he came to his senses, stopped your hips with his hands, and pulled out of the kiss, breathing heavily.
"What happened?" You asked while trying to catch your breath. "Was it too much?"
"I don’t know." He looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were much darker than usual. "It was too long ago, and I'm not sure that I’m ready right now." He looked down as if he were ashamed to say this.
"That’s okay, baby, I promise. We can go at your own pace. I didn’t have sex for some time too, so that’s okay." You smiled at him while your hand found a place on his stubbled cheeks.
"It’s not just a few years." He mumbled.
"What?"
"I haven’t had sex since I went to war." Silence fell on you while you were trying to process his words.
"Wait… really?" He nodded.
"You know, while I was with HYDRA, I was busy with different… things. And after that, I was just trying to get back to a normal life."
"I see, but I really thought that you at least were with someone in Bucharest or in Wakanda."
"No. In Bucharest, it was unsafe to even go out in the streets, and in Wakanda, every woman was for me like a sister, you know? You are the first one who I wanted to know as more than a fri-Oh, shit!" He suddenly gasped. You just wanted to move a little bit, but instead, you accidentally touched his erection.
"Oh my God, I’m sorry!"
"T-that’s okay, just don’t move, please. It will disappear." Bucky threw his head back on the couch and closed his eyes tightly.
"Do… do you want me to help you?" You asked almost innocently. "I mean, we don’t have to have sex, but I can do other things to help your problem."
There was another awkward silence when Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face.
"You don’t have to do that. Really."
"What if I want to?" You moved closer to his face, almost touching his lips. "Would you let me take care of you?"
Bucky’s eyes were dark again, full of need and lust. Finally, he nodded slightly. You gave him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips, and not wanting to waste any more time, you slipped from his lap onto the floor.
"Wait! You want to—you don’t have to—I mean– fuck." Bucky hid his face behind his hand from embarrassment. You act like a fucking child.
"Hey, baby. Talk to me. It’s okay." You put your hands on top of his, pulling them away. "What happened, James? You thought I meant to help you with my hands?"
"Mhm. I’ve never done this before." He mumbled something that you almost didn’t understand. Bucky's face was pink, so you put your hands on his burning cheeks to calm him down. "I’m sorry that I’m such a mess."
"You’re not a mess, Bucky. So you’ve never got a blowjob? Even before the war? I thought you were a ladies’ man." You asked gently.
"I was, but back in the day, it was hard to find a girl that would do it just because, you know? Sex was more available because blowjobs were more intimate, I guess. And I’ve never had real relationships, sooo." He just shrugged, feeling even more embarrassed.
"I understand. And that’s okay if you don't have experience in something. You don’t have to be ashamed, at least not with me. I still want to do this, if you don’t mind." Bucky nodded again before leaning closer to your face and kissing you with passion.
While you were kissing, your hands slipped from his face, running across his chest and abs, right to the bottom of his jeans. You pulled away from the kiss and pushed Bucky back onto the sofa. As soon as the pants were unbuttoned, he helped you pull his clothes lower, and you gasped.
His beautiful dick was standing right in front of your face. Hard, thick, with a vein from one side and pre-cum leacking from the tip. Honestly, you’ve never found them attractive, but it seemed like Bucky was perfect everywhere, so the sight before your eyes made your mouth water.
"Holy shit." You breathed out as your hand wrapped around him, and the fingers barely even touched each other. Your boyfriend’s body instantly tensed; he was not used to this kind of touch. You gave him a few strokes, seeing how his eyes rolled back in pleasure and a tiny moan escaped his mouth. "You know, that’s a shame that no one put this pretty cock in their mouth." You smiled as Bucky’s ears got pink from your praise. "Look at me."
As soon as he did as you told him, you looked directly into his eyes and licked him from the bottom to the top, swirling your tongue around the tip. The taste instantly filled you, and you slightly moaned, sending vibrations down Bucky’s body.
He tried to hold himself together. He really did. But the sight of you on your knees, looking him in the eyes with his cock in your mouth, He completely lost it and let out the loudest moan that he had ever made. Both metal and flesh gripped the sides of the couch, but the pleasure was too intense, and he was overwhelmed.
You started moving your head up and down, still looking Bucky in the eyes. The tip of his dick met your throat, but there were still a few inches left.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Y/N, holy shit!" He whined and threw his head back.
You let him slip out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and started stroking him with a hand, using the mixture of your saliva and Bucky’s pre-cum to make it easier.
"Put your hand on my head, baby. Do whatever you want." Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then his right hand fell on top of your head and made a messy ponytail. You smiled and put your lips back on his dick, gently licking and sucking the tip. The hand on your head slightly pushed you down, and you allowed Bucky to control you.
He slipped back into your mouth until his head touched the back of your throat. You started moving on your own, but Bucky’s hand was still tightly holding your hair as he was showing you the pace that he liked. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dripping down your chin, but you didn’t care about it when your boyfriend was such a mess.
Bucky’s eyes were partly closed as he was trying to look at the beautiful view before him. Your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock, and it was probably the hottest thing that he had ever seen. He couldn’t hold back the small moans escaping his mouth because it was too good—feeling your warm and wet mouth around him. He tried not to push you too hard, but from time to time his grip tightened and his hips moved by themselves, making you choke.
"Doll." Bucky moaned. "Please, baby, I’m so close, oh my– fuck." He instantly pushed you lower, but you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you moaned around his cock, lifting your free hand on his torso under the shirt. You felt that his body was tense, and the muscles under your fingers were trembling. You knew that Bucky was close, so you ran your nails over the hot and soft skin. "Doll– doll, you should move. I’ll cum– fuck, please." Bucky whined and tried to take you off of him, but you didn’t let him and instead swirled your tongue around him.
You felt it before it happened: Bucky’s body tensed, his cock twitched, and a loud moan filled the room. In a second, your mouth was filled with a warm, a little bit salty, and a little bit sweet seed. You moaned at the taste, still sucking his dick until you knew that he had completely finished, and only then swallowed every single drop.
Bucky’s hand fell out of your hair on the sofa near him, and he was sitting there almost senseless with heavy breathing and closed eyes. You helped Bucky put himself back into pants and then sat on his lap again.
"James?" You gently put your hand on his face.
"Mm." Bucky finally opened his eyes, and you have never seen him in this condition: sleepy, relaxed, with a tiny, lazy smile on his face. "Can’t believe that you just did it, doll. It was better than any sex that I’ve had in my life." He leaned into your touch. Bucky grabbed your face and dragged you closer until you two connected in a kiss, and he could taste himself on your tongue.
"I’m glad you liked it."
"Liked? Doll, you almost sucked my soul out." He chuckled. "Now I have to pay back." Suddenly, one warm and one cold hand were under your pajama shorts.
"Not today, baby. You’re tired. Would you stay for a night?" You bumped your nose with his, leaving light and short kisses on his lips.
"Of course, doll."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#marvel#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you
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DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave
Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.
He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.
Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!
Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!
Jason: What the hell are you doing?
Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.
Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?
Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.
A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.
Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.
Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.
Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.
Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.
Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.
Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.
Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.
Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.
Jason: First day?
Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.
Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.
Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.
The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?
Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.
Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?
Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.
Danny: Sure, why not.
Danny looks at the headstone.
Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.
Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?
Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.
Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.
Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*
Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?
Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.
Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.
Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.
The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.
Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.
~~~~~
Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.
Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.
But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.
~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~
Dick: How did you two meet?
Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.
Bruce: What? Who dared?
Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.
Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.
Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.
Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.
Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.
Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.
~~~~~
Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.
Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.
Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.
~~~~~~
Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?
Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.
Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.
Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?
Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.
Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.
Jason: Whore?
Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.
Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.
~~~~~
Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.
Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.
The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.
~~~~~
In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?
~~~~~
Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.
GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.
Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.
~~~~~
Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dpxdc prompts#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp#dp x dc#ghost hunger au#dead on main#danny phantom x jason todd#danny fenton x jason todd#dirty talk#??? idk
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Wrong Number 1
Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.
[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?
(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢
(11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me
(11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to
[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast
Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.
Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.
(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite?
(11:36) Avo toast? Really???
Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.
[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.
(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit
Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.
While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.
Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.
He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?
[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later
Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.
"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."
For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.
"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"
Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.
"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."
"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.
Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."
"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."
"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"
"Umm, yeah."
Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.
"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.
It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.
"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."
Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"
"That's all."
"Wow. You usually move faster than that."
"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"
He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.
[3:14] image.jpeg
[314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!
"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.
"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."
Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.
Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.
What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?
He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.
'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.
When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.
(10:31) Back at home now
(10:32) Work was crazy
(10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem
(10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie
(10:37) Like broccoli
He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.
[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?
(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie
(10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall
Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.
[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!!
[10:44] *duck
[10:45] *FUCK
Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.
(10:46) Cool your jets man
(10:47) I work at an axe throwing range
(10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment
(10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall
[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous
(10:50) My uncle handled it
(10:51) Eventually the dude left
[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷
Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.
(10:53) Smooth
(10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours
Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.
[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11
It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway
(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11
Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.
(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?
[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.
Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.
(10:59) You know what they say
(10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it
Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!
Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.
[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches
Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.
On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.
God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.
(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape
(11:05) image.jpeg
Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.
The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.
[11:07] image.jpeg
[11:08] I think you have me beat
They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.
Part 3
Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think
Tag Team
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @420-hun @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface
#apo writes#stranger things#fanfiction#steddie#i can honestly say i didn't expect the response to this#u cant predict the stocks! i guess LOL#fun fact this was nearly an abo fic as well#but i decided against it this time around#bc i have other aus that'll probably be abo
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Praise | Taunt Part 2
summary: michael has been tutoring you for weeks and the closer you get to him, the stronger your feelings seem to grow but does he feel the same way about you?
pairing: michael gavey x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, profanity, dirty talk, breast/nipple play, teasing, degradation/dumbification, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (technically the reader is on birth control but it's not mentioned in this part), angst (michael is in his sad boy hours for a lil bit), creampie, light cum play, light choking, daddy kink, dom/sub vibes, discussions of mathematics, michael being a lil clueless (aw, bless) -- let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 9.8k i will not apologize, i am not sorry
a/n: i have to say, i've grown so attached to this little pairing and i hope y'all love them as much as i do! i want to say a huge, huge, huge thank you to the loml @officerbrowneyes ❤️ for giving me the excitement and inspiration needed to even make me want to write a second part to taunt, for helping me through my writers block, for betaing this fic, and for generally being an amazing person and fantastic friend! i love you bby!!
TAUNT | Part 1
MAKING AMENDS | Bonus
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
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“Fuck this,” you mutter, jaw clenched as you yank over the next page of your statistics textbook, practically ripping the page as you flip it over. You can’t help but grumble, each page of notes you flip through only adding to your foul mood as you hunch over your desk, numbers and letters swimming together in your vision. “Ugh!” You toss your pencil down, rubbing your temples as it clatters across the desk before falling to the floor.
“Oi!” Louise sits up against the pillows on your bed across the room, tugging off a headphone as she looks at you, resting her own textbook on her lap, “You doin’ alright, babe?”
“I’m gonna fail the final,” You groan, head in your hands, “I’m gonna fail it, and then fail out of Oxford, and then I’ll have to go back home and then my parents will kill me.”
“You’re not gonna fail,” she sighs, pushing herself up so her legs dangle over the bed, “You’ll be fine. You were so worried about that last quiz and you nearly got a perfect score, remember?”
You let out a petulant whine, one you’d be embarrassed about if your head wasn’t pounding, and lean back on your wooden desk chair, bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling. “That was before we started consumer mathematics,” you lament, chest heaving with a sigh, “I have no hope now.”
You can feel Louise jokingly roll her eyes behind you when she huffs out a laugh as she slips off your bed, coming to stand behind you, her face upside down as she looks down at you, a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you just text Michael? I thought he’s been helping you.”
Just hearing his name makes your heart feel funny in your chest and you sigh, sitting back up before turning to look at your friend, “It’s…complicated.” Inwardly, you can’t help but cringe at yourself; the situation is anything but complicated and yet it somehow feels impossible.
“Explain,” Louise commands, leaning back against your desk with her arms crossed across her chest. She laughs when you groan, pushing your shoulders back from where you’ve curled in on yourself, forcing you to look at her, “Babe, I love you, but it’s Michael Gavey. How on Earth is that man ‘complicated?���” She asks, cocking her hip as she does air quotes with her hands.
“Because I like him!” You blurt out after a second, hiding your face in your hands, “I like him and I don’t think he likes me and every damn time we study, we just end up fucking and I can’t keep fucking him because I like him!” The words rush out of you before you have time to think about them, your whole body deflating like a balloon as you release weeks worth of tension.
Your head snaps up in shock when Louise giggles, your mouth hanging open even as the corners of your lips threaten to quirk up into a smile. “How dare you!” You admonish, playfully slapping at her hip, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you laugh!”
“Sorry, sorry!” She shakes her head, breathily laughing as she tries to get herself under control, “I’m sorry! I just…what do you mean he doesn’t like you? That man is in love.”
“What?” Your eyes narrow as you stare up at her, “How do you know? I’ve tried flirting with him and he doesn’t ever seem to respond to it.”
At this, Louise shakes her head and shoots you a concerned look, “I don’t think he’s the type to get flirting, hon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you honestly think anyone has ever flirted with him?” Louise asks, giving you a pointed look, “I don’t have anything against the guy, but come on. You’re gonna have to hit him over the head with it.”
“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesce; in your weeks of getting to know Michael, you’d learned that while he wasn’t clueless, he was definitely not as experienced as he had first appeared, “That still doesn’t mean he likes me, though.” You point out, raising an eyebrow at your friend.
“Do you really not see the way he looks at you?” She smirks, “I’ve said two words to the man but, trust me, he is smitten, babe.”
You look away, biting at your bottom lip as you think over what she had to say. Your eyes scan over the surface of your desk, unfocused, as thoughts bounce around your head. Louise simply pats your shoulder before going back to your bed, resting on her stomach as she resumes reading through her book.
You’re quiet for a moment before your eyes land on your phone, sitting temptingly on the corner of your desk. You glance back and forth between it and the still-opened textbook in front of you, frustration rising in your chest once again at the mere sight of the various formulas on the pages. Finally, with a sigh, you grab your phone and flip it open, quickly scrolling to Michael’s contact.
“U busy now?” You text quickly, pressing send before you have a chance to second guess yourself before setting the phone down quickly, practically dropping it on the desk as if it were burning you.
Not even a minute later, although it feels like an eternity, it vibrates. You hesitate for a second, tempted to just slog your way through this chapter on your own. Finally, you sigh and reach for your phone, not wanting to sacrifice your newly-improved grade or your situationship with Michael.
“In my room. Why?” He replies, always concise and to the point.
“Need help w the new chap,” you type, biting your lip as you shuffle through letters on the small keyboard, “Can I come over?”
“Sure, see you soon.” His reply comes quickly, making your heart race.
With a nervous sigh, you push yourself up from your chair, groaning as you take a second to stretch before striding over to your small dresser. “I’m going to his,” you say, glancing over at Louise, “I’m officially waving the white flag on this chapter.”
“Wear lingerie!” She says quickly, practically skipping over to you and leaning against the wall next to you.
“What?” You laugh, shooting her a questioning look, “Why would I do that?”
“Duh!” She huffs with an eye roll, “Put in some effort to fuck him and it might help get the message across.”
“How do you know we’ve been–”
“Your room is right next to mine,” she points out, looking at you tiredly, “And the walls in this ancient building are thin as paper. Come on.”
“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up in surrender with a laugh before pulling open your underwear drawer; as convoluted as Louise’s plan was, you couldn’t exactly see a downside to fancying up a little, “Any suggestions?”
“Hmm,” she hums, shuffling through the small pile of fancy lace you had shoved in the corner of the drawer, “Ooh, these!” She chimes victoriously, holding up a lacy bra, “This color always looks so good on you, you’ll make his head explode.”
With a nod, you grab the bra and matching underwear from her, “If this doesn’t help, I will be holding you personally accountable.” You laugh, seeing her politely turn away from you in the corner of your eye as you begin pulling your clothes off.
“I mean, it is still on you to actually say something,” she chuckles, peering out the window as she waits for you to change, “Honestly, if it was me, I would’a locked that shit down ages ago. The sounds I hear coming from this room…” She jokes, shaking her head.
“Sounds?” You ask, your face flushing as you hurriedly clasp the thin bra behind your back, “You can hear us?”
“You two are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” she laughs, “I mean, who would’ve thought that little nerd had it in him?”
“He has hooked up with people,” you defend, pulling on a t-shirt and skirt, short enough that you knew it would make the blond’s head spin, “He’s not totally helpless.”
“Hookups are different than boyfriend dick,” Louise points out, shuffling back on your bed until her back was resting against the wall next to it, “And based on all the screams I hear from you, Michael has boyfriend dick.”
With a laugh, you roll your eyes, not even bothering to question her as you shove your things into your backpack. Sitting down at your desk chair, you pull your small mirror over and give your hair and makeup one last look over, glancing back at Louise as she continues, “I mean, come off it, babes. You don’t even make those noises by yourself.”
“You can hear me?!” You squeak out, whipping your head around.
“The walls are paper thin!” She laughs, “I’m sure you can hear me too, and everyone else. You honestly think that doesn’t go both ways?”
“Ha ha,” you say dryly, slipping on your shoes before standing and grabbing your keys from the small hook next to the door of your room, “I’m going, can you lock my door when you leave?”
“Yup!” Louise chirps, not bothering to look up from her phone as she waves you off, “Go get that nerd dick!”
With a sigh and an eye roll, you pull your door closed.
You make it to Michael’s in record time and pause in front of his door, giving yourself a minute to calm down before you nervously knock.
Almost instantly, the door swings open. The thought that he might’ve been perched next to it, waiting for you to show up, makes your chest squeeze as you murmur a hello.
“Hiya, pretty.” He says lowly as you move past him, closing the door and watching as you dump your backpack by his bed. His room wasn’t much different than most other guy’s dorms you’d been in – sparsely decorated with only the essentials, although you did appreciate the posters and pictures Michael had hanging up. There were all sorts of different ones pinned to the dark wooden walls, from bands he liked to small polaroids of his pets from home. Every time you were here, though, your heart couldn’t help but hurt a little as you never saw pictures similar to some of the ones you had up – ones with friends.
“Needed some help from little old me?” He teases.
“Yes, oh my God!” You sigh, your dramatics making him crack a smile as he takes a seat at his desk, “This new chapter is doing my head in!”
“Alright, alright love,” he murmurs, signature smirk poised on his lips as his blue eyes peer at you from behind his glasses, “Get your things, I’ll see if I can help.”
With a nod, you pull your notebook from your backpack as he turns to the chapter in his own textbook. As you move, you can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye, taking in everything from the dark red t-shirt he wore, complete with a cheesy maths pun on the front, to how ruffled his golden hair was, like he’d just woken up from a nap. Maybe the light was playing tricks on you, but you swore you saw him glance over at you a time or two too.
“Haven’t heard much from you this week,” you start, pulling up the extra chair he kept in a corner of his dorm room, “How’ve you been? Oh! And how did that paper for your calculus class turn out?” You ask, glancing at him as you flip through the pages of your notebook, looking for where you’d left off.
“Oh, yeah,” he clears his throat, leaning an elbow on his desk, “The paper was great, actually. Thank you for your help by the way,” his lips curve up in a sheepish grin, “I’ve always been a bit shit at writing.”
“Yeah, no problem,” try to ignore the way your stomach twists at his gratitude, “I’ve always been shit at maths so it works out.” You joke, pride filling your chest when he chuckles. The longer you’d spent working with Michael, the more comfortable the two of you became, and slowly but surely he’d let his guard down. He was still the same cocky, downright arrogant prick in class but when it was just the two of you, you couldn’t help but notice that he’d grown…softer. Those sharp, taunting edges of his had been smoothed a little, sanded down by jokes he shared with you rather than sarcastic jabs directed at you.
“Mmm,” he hummed, those blue eyes you’d grown so enamored with sparkling with mirth, like he was always just one step ahead of you, “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You’ve improved a lot,” your cheeks flush and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life, whirling around wildly at the simple compliment, “Not nearly as much of a dummy as you were a few weeks ago, yeah?” He finishes, lips tugged up in a viciously smug smile as he watches the way your eyes grow wide, the way the pink hues making their home on the apples of your cheeks bloom ever brighter, extending almost all the way to your neck.
“Michael,” your voice is hoarse as you croak his name, desperately willing your mind to stay on track, “C-Can we focus on the notes, please? I really do need help, I mean maybe later we can–”
“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he says, blessedly cutting off your nervous babbling, “What’s giving you problems, pretty?”
“Uhh,” you fumble, kicking yourself internally as you scramble to reset your brain, “The stuff we went over last week,” you flip through your notes, finally pointing your pen at the hastily scribbled notes you’d taken in class, “The monthly investment stuff; I guess the formula Professor Davies went over just seems really complicated to me. Like, I was having a really hard time following it in class with the way he was explaining it.”
Michael nods his head as he listens, his eyes quickly scanning over your notes before flitting to the accompanying pages in his nextbook as he lets out a sigh. “Ahh, okay,” his fingers brush over yours as he takes your pen, once again sending your mind into a flurry as you blink, desperately trying to clear the fog that seemed so determined to invade your brain, “So, remember the compound interest formula we went over earlier?”
You nod as he peers over at you, admittedly only halfway listening as your heart hammers in your chest. “Uhm, y-yeah,” you nearly whisper before clearing your throat, “Yeah.” You nod once more, trying to keep your voice steady as you watch him scrawl notes on your paper; your eyes glaze over as you observe the way his long fingers hold your pen, making it all too easy to imagine those same fingers sliding into your mouth and holding your tongue down as he whispers filthy things into your ear, skirting their way into your underwear and curling just right against –
“It works similarly,” Michael continues, hunched over the textbook as he copies down a sample problem, “So, the monthly investment formula is basically just the yearly salary over twelve months. I think the formula is getting to you, but it’s not really that complicated in practice.”
You nod your head dutifully, his voice sounding muffled to your ears as your thoughts continue spiraling, lewd thoughts of his fingers and cock playing like a video on the backs of your eyes. He hands the pen back to you as he finishes copying down the question, gazing at you expectantly as you look over the problem.
“Okay, so, uhm,” you stammer, eyes desperately scanning over the page as if the answer will magically reveal itself to you, “So…you’d divide these…?” You ask timidly, already knowing you’re wrong.
“You aren’t paying attention at all, love,” he says, not even needing to question it as he shakes his head in mock disappointment, “What’s going on in that pretty head, hm? What got you so distracted?” He rasps, one hand moving up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, even that simple action damn near causing you to whimper.
“I don't,” you swallow, mouth dry as your eyes flutter shut for a half second before reluctantly meeting his, heart pounding wildly in your chest as the smirk on his face makes a graceful reappearance when he sees the glazed over, near empty look on your face, “I don’t know.” You finish finally, voice breathy despite your best efforts.
“Hmm,” he hums again, trailing that hand down your neck and the side of your arm before finally letting it rest atop the thigh closest to him, his touch practically burning your skin, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s taken over that empty fuckin’ head.”
Before you even have a chance to reply, his hands are on your hips. He firmly pulls you into his lap, lithe frame disguising his true strength as he settles you atop his thighs.
“Michael, I–”
“Hush,” he commands softly, warm hands skirting over your waist as he tugs you back into him, your back pressing into the familiar expanse of his chest once again, “I know exactly how to help, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning over your cheek before he presses a light kiss there, trailing them down over the side of your neck as his hands slip under the bottom of your t-shirt. His touch makes shivers cascade down your spine as you feel his hands ghost over your stomach before they cup your breasts; he lets out a pleased hum when he feels the delicate lace of your bra, which does nothing to hide your already pebbled nipples as they press against the palms of his hands.
“I think,” he continues, chuckling darkly when he already hears small whines escaping past your lips as he continues massaging your breasts, “You need that wet little cunt played with, hm? I know she’s already dripping, pretty.” His voice is rough as he speaks, his hips grinding up into you, making you mewl on his lap as you feel his cock already poking against you even through the jeans he wears.
“P-Please,” you whine brokenly, embarrassed to already be reduced to such a state, “Please, Michael, I need…fuck, I need something, anything, please!” You’re used to begging for him by now, the two of you have hooked up enough over the past few weeks that you know he loves how whimpery and desperate you get, loves to hear the little hitch in your voice when you beg and plead with him so.
“Not Michael,” he grunts, roughly pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, just enough to make you cry out and squirm on his lap, “Try again.”
“Oh–,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips desperately wriggle on his lap, tantalized by the feel of him, even through all the layers of clothing between you, “Sir! Sir, please!”
He huffs out a laugh, low and raspy in your ear as he trails one hand up, poking it through the collar of your shirt to wrap it lightly around your throat – not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of your place. “Someone must be feeling extra stupid today, hm? Haven’t been sir in weeks, love, you know that.”
A hungry whine claws its way past your lips as your head tilts back onto his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as your cheeks heat up, trembling in his lap. This has been his favorite part, experimenting with that one little name it takes so much for you to say. It’s funny really, eventually he’d admitted to only hearing it in a porno, not something he could attribute to his string of experiences with one night stands. You’d just been the first person he’d been intrigued about enough to try it on; he was hooked the moment he saw your reaction and had slowly worked it into your little routine, requiring you to day it, to beg him so prettily with it, before he’d ever give you what you wanted.
“Come on now,” he groans, the movements of your hips finally getting to him, “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll keep this precious cunt occupied so that that little head can work properly.” His hand abandons your breast, a laugh rumbling through him at your cries as he trails it up one thigh, slipping it under the bottom of your skirt.
“Daddy!” You finally blurt out, the ache in your core finally growing too big for you to keep denying, “Please, daddy, please, just… fuck, just do something!”
“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he coos, half laughing as he slips his hand up under your skirt, cupping your throbbing center over the thin lace of your panties, groaning when he feels how hot and wet you are under his touch, “No wonder you can’t think straight, hm? So messy.”
You whimper helplessly in his lap, hands scrabbling before they tightly cling to the forearm he has halfway under your skirt. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe heavily, head swimming as his fingers press down on your aching clit before circling the bud slowly, the lace of your underwear only adding to the fire building within you, “Oh, my God!”
Michael grunts lowly into your ear as he twirls his fingers against you, nipping at your neck as he rocks against you from below. “Here’s how this is gonna go, love,” he whispers lowly, speeding up the movements of his long fingers against you, “If you can get the formula right, you can come…”
“Wha–!” You splutter, your chest already heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, nails digging into his forearm as you feel the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten; Michael had made it his mission over the last few weeks to learn every little thing that made you tick, and Christ, if he wasn’t a fast learner, “T-That’s not–”
“If you can’t get it right,” he continues, smirking against your cheek as he presses his fingers ever tighter into the column of your throat, “Then I’ll just keep edging and edging you until I’ve gotten my fill of those precious fucking noises you make, hm?”
You struggle in his hold, not getting very far as his touch has already reduced your muscles to jelly. Your hips keep rutting up into his fingers despite your feeble attempts to stop yourself, knowing he absolutely means to make good on his threats. With a defeated whine, you let your head loll to the side on his shoulder, burying your face against the pale expanse of his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe in his now-familiar scent, although that only serves to put you more on edge.
Michael suddenly moves, sitting up straighter in his desk chair and bringing you with him, causing you to yelp a bit. He keeps a steady hold on you as he leans forward, his fingers never ceasing their circular movements on your aching clit as he tilts you forward, angling your head so you’re once again face-to-face with the textbook and notes still laid out on the desk.
“Now,” he starts, resting his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scan over the pages in front of you both, seemingly wholly unbothered with your current state, “What’s the first step?”
You can feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you blearily look over the paper, your eyes not really focusing on anything as you feel the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter with each movement of his hands against you.
“M-Michael, I–” Your voice sticks in your throat, your hips moving entirely of their own accord in his lap as your walls clench desperately around nothing, that familiar growing ache nearly taking over your entire center as your breath hitches.
“Ooh,” he murmurs with saccharine sympathy, quickly pulling his fingers from you just before you fall over the edge; you can feel him smirking wickedly against your cheek as you twitch against him, letting out mournful little whines, “That was a close one, wasn’t it, pretty girl?”
The room feels as if it’s spinning as you come down from your almost-high, your walls throbbing as low cries slip past your lips. “F-Fuck…” you sigh hoarsly, hips still pathetically twitching against his jean-clad lap.
“I know you know this,” his breath is warm against your cheek as he angles his head toward yours, blond hair tickling the side of your face as he peers at you from behind his glasses, “Be a good fucking girl and tell me which step is first and I’ll touch you again.”
Your eyes frantically scan over the problem as you will yourself to remember something, anything, from one of Professor Davies’s lectures last week, your hands abandoning Michael’s forearm to white-knuckle the edge of his desk instead as you try to steady yourself.
“Y-You, uhm, you multiply,” you start, swallowing heavily as something finally seems to click together in your brain, “You multiply the exponents, daddy.”
You practically preen under his touch as you feel more so than hear the pleased hum he lets out. “Very good,” he drawls slowly, pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “See? I knew there was something going on in that head of yours.” You know he’s taunting you on purpose, pulling out every trick he knows will make you blush, though you can’t bring yourself to care as you feel your heart soar with his praises.
A loud moan tumbles past your lips as he resumes touching you, his fingers once again teasing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, the aching bud now all the more sensitive to his touches after you were denied an orgasm. You nearly double over on his lap as pleasure immediately zings up your spine, your muscles tensing in his hold.
His hand abandons your throat and pulls out from under your shirt completely as he reaches for your pen and quickly scribbles down the first step of the formula, easily multiplying the numbers in his head before setting your pen back down.
“Now then, what’s next, love?” He chuckles meanly against your cheek as you whine. He groans appreciatively as he feels your arousal leaking into your panties, soaking the fabric against his fingers while his other hand comes up to cup your breast over your shirt, feeling your aching nipple pressing against his hand even through the fabric.
This game continues for what feels like an eternity, his fingers delicately teasing you right up to your breaking point before he cruelly yanks his hand away as he quizzes you again and again until you slowly but surely work your way through each step of the problem.
You’re a sweaty mess on his lap now, skin damp and flushed as he pulls his hand away for what must be the hundredth time, although in reality it’s only the fifth. You let out a feeble whine, long past begging and pleading as you know it won’t do any good.
“You’re so close,” he teases, chuckling to himself at the double meaning of his words, “Just need to solve it now, pretty baby. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll make you come.” He promises, patting his fingers over the soaked patch on your panties just enough to make you jump.
“D-Daddy, please!” You sniffle, no longer trying to reign in the tears streaming down your cheeks as your center aches and clenches, empty, “Please, I need–”
“You need to answer the fucking question,” he grunts through clenched teeth, one hand still cupping your spasming center while the other shoots up to your neck, angling your head toward the paper once more, “You asked me for help, love. And I’d say this is helping; looks like that empty little brain is able to recall information after all.” He teases, smirking cruelly as he ruts against your ass, taunting you with his hard length yet again. “Come on,” he continues, urging you on, “You’re doing so, so well for daddy. Just need the last little bit.”
Your head spins as you look at the paper and you halfway wonder if your fingers have made intents in the wood of his desk yet, “It’s, it’s the yearly salary,” you say quickly, voice high-pitched and breathy, “T-The yearly salary over twelve, fuck, m-months.” You rush out, squeezing your eyes shut.
Somehow, more blood seems to rush to your cheeks as he gasps in fake surprise, really laying it on thick for you. “Oh, what a good girl!” He praises, arms wrapping around you tightly as you squirm in his hold, his warm body pressing against yours only making your need greater, “I knew you could do it, that’s right, love!”
Quickly, he multiplies the numbers you indicated, mumbling under his breath as he quickly thinks through the equation. A few seconds later, you hear your pen moving against the paper as he scribbles down your answer, circling it with an over-done flourish.
“You’ve done it!” He coos happily, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your cheek, trailing them down your jaw and neck, “You want your prize now?” He asks lowly, trailing his hand back up your thigh slowly, fingers just barely skimming over your throbbing center.
All at once, you seem to come back to yourself as the fog lifts momentarily behind your eyes as your desperation drives you. You nod your head frantically as you turn on his lap, finally facing him and relishing the sweet, proud smile spread across his lps.
“Please, Michael, daddy,” you ramble, pressing kisses against his cheeks and neck before he finally angles his head and catches your lips with his; the two of you sigh into the kiss, yours morphing into a desperate whine as you press your chest against his, shivering as your nipples peak from the warmth of his body alone. His tongue licks along your lower lip before he gently nips at it, chuckling as you mewl into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss him frantically, sighing happily when he delicately sucks your tongue into his mouth before you pull away with a whimper. “Please, please, I need it,” you murmur against his lips, clinging to his shoulders, “I can’t wait any longer, please!”
He shushes you with a soft laugh, hands skimming over your waist. “D’you want my mouth or my fingers, pretty girl?” He mutters softly, holding you steady on his lap.
“Mouth!” You answer instantly, making him chuckle at your desperation, “Please, please!”
“On the bed,” he commands, giving you one last kiss before pushing you up, helping to steady your shaky legs, “Good girl.” He praises again, patting your ass teasingly when you finally steady yourself enough to cross the room, stopping to kick off your shoes quickly before sitting yourself down on the bed.
Michael follows after you, smirking as he kneels on the bed, one foot still on the floor. He smiles and cups both of your cheeks, kissing you once more like he can’t get enough. “You, pretty girl, are very overdressed,” He drawls, waiting for your subtle nod before pulling your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor by the bed. “Holy…” his eyes are wide as he stares at your chest, taking in the way the delicate lace perfectly cups your breasts, nipples visible through the thin material, already hardened from his earlier ministrations.
Upon seeing his reaction, you get bold. Smirking, you pull up your skirt, spreading your legs as you draw your knees up to your chest, giving him a perfect view of your matching panties; the lace, long since soaked through with your arousal, practically glimmers in the low lamp-light of his room.
“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand adjusting his hard length, straining against his jeans as his blue eyes sweep over you, taking in every flawless inch, “To what do I owe the honor, hm?” He finally collects himself, smirking again as he reaches out to lightly skim a finger over the soft silk of one strap of your bra. He’s never seen you in something this nice, and certainly never a matching set, the sight of the soft lace against your skin would be enough to make him finish in his jeans if he weren’t careful.
“Wanted to wear something special for you…” You say with a small shrug, heat rising to your cheeks once again as you look up at him shyly through your lashes.
He tilts his head to the side, clearly not picking up on the deeper meaning behind your words as he squints his eyes at you, confused. “Why…why would you wanna wear something special for me, love?” He questions softly, his voice coming out more as a breath than words.
“Michael,” you sigh, squirming under his affectionate gaze as you gather every ounce of confidence in your body. You swallow as your eyes dart between his, your heart quickly speeding up in your chest; you take a deep breath, Louise’s words echoing in your head, “I…I really like you.” You say simply, carefully watching his reaction.
“You…do?” He asks slowly, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his eyes widening as he watches you nod with a shy smile. “Why me?” His voice is smaller this time, his whole body seeming to deflate as he sits back on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped as one foot still rests against the wooden floor.
“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head cocking to the side as you move closer to him, placing a hand on his knee.
He sighs heavily, glancing up at you before looking down to where your hand rests on his leg, “No one really does.” He finally sighs, his eyes downcast.
Without thinking, you move closer to him, pressing yourself against him as you practically climb into his lap. This time, it’s your turn to gently cup his cheeks, your thumbs resting just under the gold rims of his glasses as you angle his head toward you. “I do,” you say softly before frowning a bit, pulling away just an inch, “Do…do you not feel the same way?”
“No!” He says quickly, shaking his head as he grabs at you, pulling you back toward him, “I mean yes! I mean,” he sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as he swallows heavily, “I do like you, I– Fuck, I don’t know who I’m kidding, I’ve never liked anyone this much,” he says softly, smiling as he watches your eyes grow wide, “I just…never thought a girl like you would want much to do with me.”
“What does that mean?” You whisper, heart hammering so hard in your chest you’re sure he can hear it with as little distance as there is between the two of you.
“I…,” he pauses, chuckling bitterly, “I guess I always assumed you’d wind up with Catton or…or one of his little minions. Everyone does.”
“Everyone?”
He tilts his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, like he’s willing himself to tell you some deep, dark secret. Finally, he fixes his gaze on you again, one hand fiddling with the seam at the bottom of your skirt. “He was my friend once,” he begins, his voice soft and uncertain, “I don’t think I ever meant much to him, he just took me in as some charity case. To help the weirdo loner boy, I guess.”
You stay silent as he pauses, watching him carefully as he speaks. The corners of his mouth twitch before finally dropping into a frown, his eyebrows pulling together as if he were in pain.
“I don’t know what happened in the end, to be honest,” he continues, blinking his eyes as he shuffles through memories, “I think maybe I wasn’t falling in line enough – I didn’t just blindly follow him like the others. He must’ve gotten tired of it cause one day I got to school and everyone just acted as if I wasn’t there, even mates I’d had before. They all just got pulled into his orbit and left me.”
“Michael…” you coo softly, thumbs lightly brushing over his cheeks.
“And then, one night I went to the pub with– with Oliver.” He practically spits his name, nose twitching with anger.
“Oliver?” You question, the name ringing a bell as your eyes narrow, trying to picture his face, “Oliver Quick, you mean?”
He nods, eyes flitting around his room before they settle on you again. “He was my friend…I thought he was anyway. Way back at the start of term,” he sighs, lips pulling up in a sardonic smile, “We went to the pub one evening to celebrate finally finishing some paper or whatever, and…you were there.”
“I was?” You pull back from him a fraction of an inch in shock, your eyes flitting over his face.
“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head, “Sitting at a table with Catton and all the rest of the cunts.”
“Felix and I were never that close Mich–”
“And I got up to get another pint and when I got back…he was gone.” He continued, huffing out a bitter laugh.
“Oliver?”
“Yep,” he nods, hands gripping your waist more firmly as if he’s trying to anchor you to him, “He’d gone to sit with you lot and never so much as looked my way again. Then, once Professor Davies’s class started, I…Fuck, I liked you from the minute you walked through the door on the first day, love.”
“You did?” You smile at his confession, thinking back to all those months ago.
He hums again, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, glasses smushed against his cheek, “‘N then I realized where I knew you from and I…lost hope. Got jealous. Doesn’t matter I just…I was so determined not to like you.”
“But…you do?”
He hums again, nodding against your cheek, “I remember kicking myself when I agreed to tutor you,” he laughs, breath fanning over your neck and collarbone, “But you’re really not like them, hm?”
You shake your head emphatically, holding him tighter to you as if that will somehow better prove your point, “I’m not.” You say simply, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.
The two of you stay silent for a moment before Michael’s shoulders start shaking a little; you pull back a bit, worried that he’s upset until you see he’s laughing, gazing at you as if you were some ethereal being. “I cannot believe you fucking like me,” he laughs, damn near giggling, “No one bloody likes me.”
You can’t help but laugh with him, leaning your forehead against his. “Well, fuck them,” you say firmly with a cheeky grin, “I like you enough for every damn idiot in this school.”
The two of you laugh together for another moment before you feel that familiar heat building in your belly again, never able to stave it off very long when you’re in his presence. Michael must feel it too, one second you’re laughing with him and the next his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a hard kiss, pressing his lips desperately against yours as if he’s trying to prove to himself you won’t disappear. You whimper softly as his tongue licks into your mouth, swallowing his groans as you move your lips fluidly against his before he pulls away quickly.
“Gotta fucking taste you, love,” he whispers roughly, hands blindly searching for the clasp of your bra. You feel it pop open a moment later, a low, victorious hum sounding from his chest as he finally pulls it off, tossing it off the bed to land next to your shirt, “Fuck, I love these tits.” He groans hotly, quickly kissing down your shoulder and chest before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, making you gasp loudly.
“Oh, fuck!” You moan, eyes squeezing shut as you finally feel his mouth on you, head spinning at the way his tongue teases over your sensitive nipple before he sucks it into his hot mouth, “Michael, please, need it!” You whine pitifully, rutting yourself down on his thigh.
He guides you back gently, coaxing you to lay down on his bed as his hands push up under your short skirt once more to quickly pull your panties down, tossing them over his shoulder. “Not Michael, baby, remember?” He asks teasingly, pushing your thighs up and hooking his hands behind your knees.
He guides your knees up and up until your knees are pressed against your chest, all the while pressing soft kisses to the backs of your thighs as he peers up at you over his gold-rimmed glasses, strands of blond hair resting against his forehead.
“Please, daddy!” You correct yourself quickly, not wanting to take any chances of him teasing you further. You wiggle your hips in his grasp, making him chuckle lowly as he presses kisses closer and closer to where you want him. Giggling, damn near giddy with the excitement of having his mouth on you, you reach down and gently pull his glasses off and reach up to set them on the small table beside his bed.
“Shh, you’ll get it,” he promises, breath hot against your slick folds as he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, groaning appreciatively when he sees how wet you are, how your pussy clenches tightly around nothing, “You earned it, my love.”
The pet name sends you into a tailspin almost as much as the feeling of his warm tongue pressing against your clit does. You let out a long, satisfied moan at the feeling of it, arching your hips up into his mouth.
His groan of satisfaction vibrates through you, only adding to the sensations of his lips and tongue on your aching center. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles, releasing his hold on one thigh to run two long fingers through your slick, gathering it as he teases your entrance, “It’s been far too long.” He groans, speaking more to your throbbing core than you, the thought sending another zap of pleasure swirling up your spine.
“It’s been, like, a week!” Your giggle turns into a breathy moan as he kisses your clit, gently suckling it between his lips as he carefully slips two fingers into you, immediately crooking them up against the spot that he knows will drive you wild.
“Too long,” he grunts into your folds, tongue sweeping over the length of you before he teases it at your clit. “Fuck, if I could eat this sweet little cunt every day, I would.”
Your eyes roll back in your head and your back arches as he feasts on you, shaking his head back and forth to bury his face further into your heat. He growls into you as he licks into your entrance, removing his fingers for a moment to fuck his tongue into you, savoring your sweet taste while the tip of his nose rubs perfectly over your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp, body jerking and twitching as pleasure floods through you, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight at just a few touches, “D-Daddy, I’m— oh, fuck!” You cry, arching your back as he slips his fingers into you, expertly fucking and curling them against that rough patch within you, making stars dance behind your eyelids.
“Y’getting close?” Michael murmurs around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and laving his tongue over it before letting it slip from his lips with a wet pop, “S’okay, my love, come on. You don’t need to ask for it, baby girl, you’ve earned it, just come.” He coaxes, slipping a third finger in beside the first two and grinning when he hears you cry out at the added stretch.
You breathe heavily, chest heaving as you pant, wanton whimpers and whines spilling past your lips as your fingers weave into his golden hair. Michael’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling, so pleased with himself that he can make you feel this good, that he can pull these sounds from you that he groans, long and low, into your cunt as he licks and sucks at your folds, flicking his tongue over your swollen bud.
“Can feel you getting tight, pretty girl,” his lips move against your clit as he speaks, “This sweet cunt wants to milk daddy’s fingers, doesn’t she? Fucking let her, baby, come on.”
The knot inside your belly implodes on itself as your body loses all sense of rhythm, every muscle contracting and relaxing as waves of pleasure finally wash over you. You can feel your walls pulsing around Michael’s fingers as your high consumes you, a garbled moan of his name leaving your lips as you shake against him.
He doesn’t let up, digits pressing tightly against the spot inside you as he lewdly spits onto your cunt, loudly slurping it up as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, sucking your still-pulsing bud into his mouth as he does.
“T-Too much!” You whimper, squirming in his hold as you feel yet another high quickly building within you, “Michael, d-daddy, please!”
“Hush,” he huffs, speeding up his movements enough to make you squeal as tears spring to your eyes, “You know what I want, baby girl, give it to me, let yourself have it.”
You grunt loudly as another wave consumes you, your eyes tightly squeezing shut when you feel yourself contracting around his thick fingers yet again. You’re so lost within yourself, you barely hear the slick, sloshing sounds emanating from your heat, but you certainly hear the deep, proud moan that Michael lets out, eyes widening as he watches your cunt squirt around his fingers, droplets wetting his wrist and the sheets on his bed.
You’re practically sobbing by the time he slows his fingers to a stop and gingerly pulls his fingers from you, shushing you gently when you whimper. “What a good girl,” he says softly, noisily licking his fingers clean of the evidence of your release, “Did so good for me, baby.”
The soft praises help you come back to yourself, brain returning to your body in just enough time to get a glimpse of Michael’s face before he buries it in your neck, a blush creeping across your cheeks from the shine of your release on his lips and chin.
“Thank you.” You whisper tiredly, eyes slipping shut as he presses kisses to your neck and jaw.
He laughs softly, leaning on his side next to you, one hand tracing up and down your body as he looks you over. “You wanna keep going or did I wear you out?”
You keep your eyes shut even as a playful smile slinks across your lips, a small giggle slipping past your lips as you wiggle your hips enticingly, making him chuckle with you.
The bed shifts suddenly, causing you to peek one eye open. “There she is,” Michael laughs when you open both eyes fully, watching as he quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor to join yours. He stays on his knees as he unbuttons his jeans, giving you plenty of time to take in his pale chest and stomach, covered in a light wash of blond hair that tapers off to a trail, disappearing beneath the denim around his slender waist, “Want my cock, baby?” He asks, leaning back down beside you as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and resting hotly against your thigh.
Biting your lip, you can’t help but reach down and stroke him gently, a soft sigh leaving you at the sight of his perfect length. Michael grunts next to you, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he finally feels some stimulation on his cock. The delicate sound makes your heart race, knowing you could bring him such pleasure from such a simple touch. A blush blooms on your cheeks as you gaze up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as you smirk and wiggle your hips enticingly.
He smiles at you, eyes sweeping over your form admiringly, before finally meeting your eyes, slightly squinting as he looks at you without his glasses.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” He teases, chuckling as you nod eagerly and tuck your behind your knees, holding your legs up to your chest as your skirt looks around your middle. He leans in and kisses you softly, a certain emotion behind his movements that hasn’t ever been there before. He keeps you close as he moves, never taking his lips off of yours while he maneuvers himself on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs with a pleased exhale.
Your back arches as you feel him slide his cock between your folds, the head slipping perfectly against your clit. You grasp onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, mewling into his mouth as his hands grab onto the backs of your knees once more, holding you open for him. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, stopping to nip lightly at your skin, before continuing downward to your breasts. He licks and kisses over each one, paying special attention to your nipples and laughing softly at the cacophony of whimpers and whines you make as he teases them with his tongue.
“I’ve got you,” he sighs, pulling back just enough to grasp his cock, notching the head inside your opening, just enough to make you gasp and squirm, “Y’wanna go dumb on my cock, babygirl?” He says lowly, resting his forehead against yours as he bends down enough to make the muscle in the back of your thigh ache with the stretch.
“Oh, please!” You breathe, canting your hips up in an attempt to get even just a bit more of his cock into you, “Please, daddy!”
With a growl, Michael slowly slips inside you, humming deep in his chest as he does, his eyes slipping closed as he savors your tight, wet heat.
“F-Fuck,” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you completely, his girth stretching you to the brim, leaving no part of you untouched, “You feel so good!” You whine, eyes fluttering as you try desperately to remain focused on him, never tiring of the expressions he makes when he’s inside you.
Slowly, he begins thrusting into you, groaning lowly as your fingers grip tighter at his shoulders. His blue eyes roll back in his head, brows furrowing as he slowly speeds up, rocking into you in a perfect motion.
“Feels so good,” he gasps out, ardently biting and sucking at your neck as he does, angling his hips to make sure the tip of his cock presses against that sensitive spot inside you, “So fucking tight, shit.”
The two of you move together, his hips smacking against the backs of your thighs as he plunges in and out of you. You can’t help but blush when the wet, squelching sound of your cunt begins drowning out the sharp gasps leaving your lips every time he thrusts back in, the tip of his cock brushing deliciously against the very back of your heat.
A rumbling laugh sounds in his chest as he hears it too, making you flush somehow deeper as he fixes you with a filthy grin. “Little pussy loves me, huh?” He rasps, groaning at the sight of you trying frantically to answer, your mouth hanging open as useless whines and moans warble past your lips. “She does, hm? Pretty cunt loves daddy’s cock.”
“Yeah, yeah— fuck!” You mumble, nodding your foggy head as best as you can as you gaze up at him longingly, breasts bouncing along with his thrusts, “L-Love it, daddy, fuck!”
He moans softly and grinds himself against you, driving you nearly insane as the small thatch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit deliciously. Your arms shoot out, wrapping around his neck tightly and dragging him down to you, needing something to hold onto as your walls clench down hard on his length, every thrust into you making you see stars.
His hands drop from your knees, arms locking around your neck in turn, pulling you up to him. Your legs lock tightly around his waist, the two of you as pressed together as you can get, your breasts pressed tightly against his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face back just enough to meet your eyes, “So pretty, so good.” He chokes out, eyes frantically darting between the two of yours, chest heaving as he pants.
You mewl harshly as his thrusts speed up even more, eyes nearly crossing as the head of his cock pounds perfectly against each sensitive spot inside you at the same time his abdomen grinds against your sensitive, swollen clit. You claw desperately at his back as you feel your walls clench and pulse around his length, well aware you won’t be able to hold on much longer but unable to warn him.
Fortunately for you, Michael has committed your tells to memory, even in the few short weeks the two of you have been intimate. “Come,” he commands harshly, gasping out the word just as you feel his length beginning to twitch inside you, “Fuck, come love, come.”
You nod your head wildly, rutting your hips against his as you shiver, your walls growing ever tighter on his length as you hang helplessly over the edge of your high.
“I fucking love you,” he grunts suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in your neck, mouthing uncontrollably at your neck as he keeps mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you so—shit, so fucking much! Fucking come, babygirl, come!”
Your head spins at his confession, heart hammering wildly in your chest as your high slams into you. You seize under him, shaking and crying as you pulse around his length, tears leaking into your hairline while you moan loudly, hips rutting wildly against him as you pull him somehow closer with your legs around his waist.
In the back of your mind, you hear him grunting harshly into your ear, squeezing the life out of you while he trembles, thrusting harshly into you one, two, three more times before stilling, hard cock pulsing wildly as he empties into you, flooding your walls with his warm spend.
Both of you pant harshly, a shiny sheen of sweat covering you. After a moment, you finally relax and your legs slip from around his waist, flopping lazily onto his bed.
You let out a breathy laugh as you look over him, his head still resting against your chest. His blond hair is messy, sticking up in all sorts of ways from where you’d run your fingers through it. Slowly, he relaxes against you too, slumping against you as he sighs tiredly, eventually matching your own spent laugh. Yours eyes slip closed after a moment and you let out a relaxed hum when you feel him tracing shapes onto your shoulder.
“I love you too.”
You giggle when his head instantly shoots up, tired eyes immediately meeting yours as he squints, “Y-You do?” The shock on his face is clear and he blushes so heavily the pink color extends all the way to the tops of his ears.
“For someone so smart you can be really dense,” you laugh, grinning as he sheepishly smiles at you, “How could I not?”
“Say it again,” he asks softly, a clear need in his eyes, “Please.”
“I love you, Michael Gavey.” You murmur, pushing a strand of hair off of his forehead.
He preens momentarily, shoulders seeming to square off with a newfound confidence before a familiar smirk lights upon his face. “No need to be so formal about it, love,” he quips, slowly pulling his softening length from your soaked core, shushing you sweetly as he does, “Daddy will do just fine.”
You roll your eyes with a laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder. “I’m trying to be sweet and you’re being an ass as usual!”
He snickers softly, biting his lip with a groan when he leans back to watch his cum slowly leak from you. “Well, lucky I’m your ass.” He smirks, laying beside you as he rests his head on his pillow.
“Oh, so you’re mine now?” You ask blithely, skimming a finger down one of his long arms.
“Mhm,” he hums, surprising you by lifting one of your thighs; you whine when his fingers connect with your center once again, gingerly gathering his cum leaking from you before pressing it back in slowly, working it into you with a smirk, “And you’re all mine, gotta make sure to claim you properly.”
You shudder at his words, biting your lip as you feel a familiar fog invading your mind once again. You don’t bother protesting, not even attempting to make a quick quip as you lean in and kiss him softly. A hot hand against your cheek makes you pull back, smirking when your eyes finally focus on his fingers, still shining with your combined juices.
“Jesus,” he breathes as he watches you take his fingers into your mouth, your own hands holding him steady at his forearm as you greedily suck at his fingers, “I fucking love you.”
“I love you too,” you giggle, finally pulling off his fingers with a soft pop, letting his hand rest against your waist as the two of you lie contently together on his bed, facing each other.
You see his eyelids begin to droop tiredly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxes, “You know, you do have to actually help me study later.” You point out, laughing as he groans sleepily.
“Only if it ends with you on my cock.” He mumbles, pulling him closer to you as his breathing begins to even out.
“Like it hasn’t ended that way every time before?” You jokingly question as you let your eyes trace over his features, taking in his strong nose and jaw, smiling at the way his lips are still quirked up at the edges. Eventually, your eyes begin to droop too and you snuggle into him, breathing in his familiar scent as you drift off, something woodsy yet bookish, mixed with something that’s entirely Michael.
Your Michael.
tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenswife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @officerbrowneyes
(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)
#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey fic#michael gavey smut#saltburn#saltburn fanfic#saltburn fic#saltburn smut#my writing#ewan mitchell#ewan nation#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan mitchell smut#michael gavey x you#michael gavey oneshot#saltburn oneshot#ewanverse#saltburn fanfiction#ewanverse smut#fanfiction#fic#smut#writing
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❄︎ ─ END OF YEAR REC REPORT: THE READER INSERT EDITION
hi lovelies!! as the year is coming to an end I wanted to work with my followers to compile a rec list of fics that have stuck with us as one massive thank you to all of the writers in our corner of tumblr/AO3. below you will find x reader fics from multiple different fandoms, and everything is in alphabetical order. I am grateful to all of you for the amazing work you do, and to those who participated!
extra note: I read through and tried my best to make sure everything is appropriately tagged (reader type and blushes included) but do let me know if anything needs amending—or if you are on this list and wish to be taken off it. happy reading and happy new year! (and thank you to @namodawrites for helping with the banners ily)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ─ ❄︎
fics: 100 fandoms: 23 total word count: 💀
an observer of longing by shibaraki [ONESHOT] [18K]
#: afab reader - childhood best friends to lovers - romantic and sexual tension - mutual pining - casual physical affection - love confession - eventual sexual content
Could Hajime really return your feelings? Tooru certainly thinks so. And Issei, and Takahiro. Seemingly everyone that has been within twenty feet of you.
I wanna be yours by gabseyoo [ONESHOT] [5.9K]
#: fem reader - recreational drug use - stoner suna rintaro - friends to lovers - shotgunning - smut - face riding - unprotected sex - sex under the influence
Your usual smoking date with your best friend takes an unexpected turn after a certain song starts playing.
in orbit by neonghxst [MULTI-CHAP] [27K]
#: fem reader - slow burn - fluff - angst - enemies to friends to lovers - childhood friends - breaking up/making up
You tend to have a habit of coming and going, life sending you away at odd intervals and guiding you back into his path without warning. Akin to two planets caught in each other’s orbits, you pushed and pulled in a never-ending cycle. But if there was one thing Atsumu was certain of, it was that you would always find your way back to him (and this time, he’s determined to make you stay).
lover be good to me by suguwu [MULTI-CHAP] [30K]
#: fem reader - soulmate au - slow burn - hurt/comfort - partner death (not kita shinsuke)
You meet Kita Shinsuke on a rainy summer day, with a sea of hydrangeas swirling at your feet. You know him instantly, as only a soulmate can. He seems like a good man. Like a good soulmate.
But it's your wedding day.
miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease by fushisagi [ONESHOT] [12.6K]
#: gender neutral reader - university au - fluff - friends to lovers - denial of feelings - mutual pining
The question comes to him one autumn night, surrounded by his friends and the chilly november breeze, asked by, who he assumes to be, just another nobody looking for money: what is it that you desire most, boy? the psychic asks, her saccharine smile forgotten when he looks into the crystal ball and all he ends up seeing is you.
Alternatively: Miya Atsumu is not in love. what the hell? who would ever suggest something like that?
monster by satendou [SERIES: ONGOING] [13K]
#: fem reader - unprotected sex - creampie - vaginal fingering - mentions of bullying - insecurities - described as blushing
You like horror movies, Tendou likes horror movies, what could go wrong?
storm chaser by amjustagirl [MULTI-CHAP] [163K]
#: fem reader - post canon - domestic fluff - friends to lovers - romance - marriage - parenthood - angst
Living life with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.
the burden of being by sashimiyas [ONESHOT] [22K]
#: fem reader - angst - fluff - amnesia - pro volleyball player osamu - unhealthy coping mechanisms
There was an Osamu who loved you once. Who loved Onigiri Miya so much he spent most of his waking hours there, supported loyally by the members of Hyogo Ward. A fire changes that and he and his twin brother adopt their old high school motto: we don’t need the memories. Now they’re gone and memories are all you have. So as an homage to the man you love, you reopen his restaurant back up for him.
the inbetween by oh-katsuki [ONESHOT] [25K]
#: fem reader - manga spoilers - childhood friends to lovers - slow burn - angst - sexual content
You and Tendou have been best friends since before you can remember. You share everything with each other and over the years have fallen into a friendship with clear boundaries but intimate values. When you start to notice Tendou growing more distant, you begin to worry that he’s keeping more secrets than you thought.
there are reasons why a body stays in motion by gardenofnoah [ONESHOT] [4.7K]
#: afab reader - strangers to lovers - fluff - eventual sexual content
You work too hard—kita knows it the second he meets you. He’s not expecting you to take him up on his offer. You don’t either, until you end up on his farm.
the blood of the witch is not ours by demxnscous [ONESHOT] [11K]
#: afab reader - vampire miya osamu - strangers to friends to lovers - modern setting with a hidden supernatural world - blood and injury - eventual sexual content
The door opens. Osamu whines pitifully, a shallow breath that scarcely pulls at the lacerations along his body, blood of his own and of another creature matts his fur to his ribs, along his spine, and he lifts his head.
“Oh, fuck.” From the threshold, your eyes widen, a stranger to the fox you find.
to: tokyo, love hyogo by akimind [ONESHOT] [15K]
#: fem reader - described as blushing - reunions - angst - fluff - exes to lovers
Your mind wasn’t tricking you when it caught sight of this name from across the street you rarely frequent; it remains the same name even as you stand directly below now and reread that sign again. Onigiri Miya.
…I’ll meet you in Hyogo.
The same echo.
The same memory.
roommate osamu kiss by shibaraki [DRABBLE] [0.6K]
#: gender neutral reader - pre relationship - fluff - roommate miya osamu - sleepy kiss
Osamu likes to think that unlike Atsumu, he has some semblance of control over his impulses. it’s a fine art. When you softly touch his waist as you squeeze past, or dig your feet under his thigh on the couch, or lean into his side as you share the small bathroom, he can will his body still and maintain the equilibrium you’ve crafted together.
But this morning he is frayed at the seams.
venus by saetyrn [ONESHOT] [15K]
#: cisfem reader - mutual pining - alcohol consumption - friends to lovers - eventual sexual content - reader is inexperienced
After returning to Japan from studying abroad in California, Hajime’s found that his desire for you has only grown stronger in his year away. He hopes you feel the same, and see him as he sees you. What he doesn’t expect is for it all to go tits up when you ask him--your trusted friend--for help with losing your virginity.
wet haired kuroo by mrs-kurooo [DRABBLE] [0.8K]
#: gender neutral reader - pre relationship - romantic tension
His hair lies flat, unlike the usual unruly, gravity-defying mess of black that sits on his head. It’s still a little damp, slowly drying in the warmth of your apartment, a lone droplet of water dripping from the ends and landing on his towel. It hangs in his eyes a little, more so than usual and the urge to run your fingers through it overwhelms you - it just looks so soft.
a duke's son and a baron's daughter by katsukikitten [ONESHOT] [14K]
#: fem reader - victorian era au - arranged marriage - pining - slow burn - suggestive content - lord bakugo katsuki - lord todoroki shouto
The room ebbs in the low light of flickering candles, people gather in clusters like lost geese as they honk their gossip at one another causing you to sigh. It would be another long night of mental games as your cold eyes fail to warm from the eccentric sights. Silk dresses, long gloves, shimmering gems, and endless drink and food.
Yet you hated how little power you had over your choice of being here or not.
a light that never comes by mighty-mighty-man [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [430K]
#: fem reader - enemies to friends to lovers - reader is an ex villain - worldbuilding - polotics - drama - eventual romance
After your life is saved by a quirkless middle-schooler, you find yourself roped back into the world of Heroism you've spent years trying to escape. Your mentor convinces you to take a job at U.A. that will bring you perilously close to your former best friend, Toshinori Yagi, who you have been avoiding since you mysteriously dropped out of high school in your third year.
Being a Hero never gets any easier.
And high school never ends.
all the times i told you by gardenofnoah [SERIES] [8K+]
#: afab reader - estbalished relationship - fluff - intimacy - hurt/comfort - eventual sexual content
A sweet little multi-parter about being so in love it makes you sick, featuring Katsuki.
a withered rose by potionpeddlerpatchy [ONESHOT] [18K]
#: fem reader - mythical au - reader is a nymph - god of sleep shinsou hitoshi - sexual content - dubious consent - somnophilia - manipulation
In the center of all the strange but wonderful opulence sat a giant glass orb propped so beautifully atop of a pillar, woven so intricately like vines, of tourmaline. You couldn’t help but approach it, the alluring purple aura seemed to call out to you, reaching your delicate hand before you, nothing else crossed your mind that your desire to touch the orb's smooth surface.
“You’re a bold little one, aren’t you?” Hitoshi spoke, chuckling deeply as he took in your startled form.
a world away by invie [MULTI-CHAP] [26K]
#: fem reader - slow burn - timeskips - pro hero bakugo katsuki - parallel universes - dimension travel - feelings realisation - first meetings - fluff - angst - love confessions
He met you at 16 and hasn't known peace since then.
casual by ghostbeam [ONESHOT] [4K]
#: fem reader - no quirk au - friends with benefits - friends to lovers - sexual content - todoroki family feels
“My mom wants to meet you.”
It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.
cruise universe by bfbkg [SERIES]
#: fem reader - cruise au - pro hero bakugo - developing relationship - strangers to lovers - fluff - alcohol consumption - eventual sexual content
Your cruise holiday with your friends has got some pretty views, your favourite being the grumpy pretty blonde.
deceiving the duke by andypantsx3 [MULTI-CHAP] [30K]
#: fem reader - regency au - class differences - romance - identity porn - eventual sexual content
When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.
fill my little world by shibaraki [ONESHOT] [20K]
#: afab reader - no quirk au - single dad aizawa shouta - nanny reader - falling in love - eventual sexual content
You are employed by Aizawa Shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter Eri while he’s at work. As time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.
heart of the ocean by secondhand_trash [TWOSHOT] [13K]
#: fem reader - pirate au - inspired by princess bride - romance - pirate todoroki touya - angst with a happy ending - sexual content
You had met many sailors in your life growing up by the sea, but there was only one like him.
higher than the mountain, deeper than the sea by itoshisoup [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [50K+]
#: fem reader - psychological drama - childhood friends to lovers - stockholm syndrome - hurt/comfort - noncon elements
Touya watches you stare feebly out the window, your fingers curled around those useless flowers he bought, and he finally understands why his pathetic excuse of a father could never find the words to apologize to his mother.
I'll make this feel like home by missmeinyourbones [ONESHOT] [6K]
#: afab reader - angst - canon compliant - hurt/comfort - dabi centric - todoroki family reveal - sexual content
Touya was eight years old when his youngest brother was born—the same age realized that his house no longer felt like home.
incendiary by andypantsx3 [MULTI-CHAP] [30K]
#: fem reader - enemies to lovers - quirkless discrimination - reader is a college student - romance- eventual sexual content
When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.
in the dark of morning, you promise me the sun by kirketeer [MULTI-CHAP] [78K]
#: fem reader - major character death - slow burn - grief and mourning - angst with a happy ending - eventual sexual content
When Denki, your long-term boyfriend, is stabbed by a villain on his way home from work, left to bleed out on the sidewalk only a mile from your apartment, you find yourself adrift. Strangely enough, it's Bakugou that helps with what comes after.
kingdom of ashes by shibaraki [TWOSHOT] [11K]
#: fem reader - historical royalty au - prince todoroki touya - arranged marriage - sexual content - fluff - angst - hopeful ending
When you are suddenly uprooted from your life to enter an arranged marriage with Prince Touya you are unprepared for how greatly he defies your expectations, nor for how quickly you fall for him.
lights will guide you home by a11eya [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [22K]
#: gender neutral reader - soulmate au - trope inversion/subversion - slow burn - getting together - falling in love - eventual sexual content
Soul-lights aren’t as common in this day and age as they were in the past, before quirks, but they’re common enough that people do still find their soulmates.
At thirteen, you meet Bakugou Katsuki, and he lights up for you in orange and gold. You tell him he's your soulmate. He sneers and tells you that you aren't his. He makes your adolescence miserable until you part ways.
You meet again as adults, late at night, in a grocery store, over a pile of bok choy. He apologizes for how he treated you when you were children.
(In which you have a choice—to reject Bakugou's apology, reject him, or to let him show you the man he's become, to learn with him what it means to love and forgive.)
one for the rules by alkhale [ONESHOT] [9K]
#: fem reader - actor au - soulmates and identifying marks - romance - actor kita shinsuke - implied sexual content - reader described with long hair
“(Y/n)-san,” Kita whispers, low, just for you. Your eyes flicker nervously up to meet his, heart beating so wildly in your chest you feel like you’ll explode. Any minute now. There’ll be nothing left for him but little bits of nonsense. “I know I have no right to stop you… but please, if you’d be willing to wait, just a bit…”
Kita pulls both your hands together now, away from both your shared marks. He holds them in both of his and he gazes at you the entire time, a man truly from another era, from a lost era of things so hopeless romantic and earnest you feel like there’s nothing you can do in the very face of it. Kita brings your hands up and he presses a kiss to your knuckles, peering up at you, eyes like honey, voice soft and warm and everywhere around you.
“Would you give me the chance to show you my worth?” Kita asks.
Ah, that’s it. Your heart really can’t take anymore.
passing peonies by dira333 [MULTI-CHAP] [34K]
#: fem reader - recovery - mental health issues - returning to society - healing todoroki family - reader described to have a ponytail - angst
When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.
Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.
something just like this by ofmermaidstories [MULTI-CHAP] [200K]
#: fem reader - strangers to lovers - pro hero deku - manga artist reader - eventual sexual content
It probably says a lot about you that your first thought on meeting Deku, international Symbol of Peace, isn't something like "Oh, wow," or, "Oh he's so nice," but is, instead, the un-Plus Ultra thought of, "I definitely would’ve bullied him, in high school."
At least until those muscles came in.
the cardinal rule by coopigeoncoo [ONESHOT] [9K]
#: gender neutral reader - romantic comedy - bird puns - blood and injury
A story where Hawks learns that while humans might be awed by his flying skills, the bird population is decidedly less impressed.
the widening sky by ofmermaidstories [MULTI-CHAP] [37K]
#: fem reader - merpeople au - merman bakugo katsuki - canon typical violence - grief and mourning - eventual sexual content - bittersweet ending
You don’t believe your Grandmother’s stories about mermaids — until you meet one.
triptych by narumi-gens [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [20K]
#: fem reader - yandere chisaki kai - psychological abuse - angst - codependency - imprisonment - canon typical violence - sexual content
Your life is nothing more than a triptych, a work of art in three parts with each panel depicting a distinct period — a beginning, a middle, an end. And in the triptych that is your life, the central figure has always been Chisaki Kai.
when to cradle, when to pry by therealvalkyrie [ONESHOT] [1.3K]
#: fem reader - established relationship - depresson and panic attacks - reader has low self esteem - hurt/comfort
As he re-learns the joys of loving you, Katsuki also learns how to help you back on your own feet when you need it.
OR
An "in the aftermath" look at the relationship in 'you feel love in the sodium'
11:49pm by shotorus [DRABBLE] [0.4K]
#: gender neutral reader - fluff and intimacy
Gojo is larger than life, but you make him feel small.
all that is solid by grilledtandoorismoke [SERIES] [38K]
#: fem reader - arranged marriage - curse user reader - described as blushing - hurt/comfort - domestic fluff - angst - canon typical violence
Coming from a family of curse users and the first person in three hundred years to have your clan's inherited technique, political machinations force you to attend Jujutsu Tech while having to agree to an arranged marriage to Gojo Satoru.
am I (25F) the asshole for fucking my boyfriend's older brother (28M) by rinhaler [ONESHOT] [10K]
#: fem reader - sexual content - dom/sub dynamics - older brother ryomen sukuna - sex under the influence - cheating - daddy kink
I know it sounds bad but we got high and he's hot!!
blood and pearls by vennilavee [SERIES: ONGOING] [10K]
#: fem reader - trueform sukuna - developing relationship - canon typical violence - cannibalism - eventual sexual content
A lonely water nymph washes up to the shores of an enchanted lake with dreams of the sun and the stars. Little do you know, that this enchanted lake belongs to the king of curses himself, Ryomen Sukuna.
candied hearts by mrs-kurooo [ONESHOT] [10k]
#: fem reader - no curse au - hurt/comfort - fluff - third party infidelity - sexual content - body worship - size difference - pull out method
Gojo is a nuisance. What more is there to say.
cor unum by vampyrsm [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [130K]
#: fem reader - trueform sukuna - slow burn - period typical sexism - body horror - cannibalism - blood and violence - eventual sexual content
A tale of how the Shogun's daughter ends up in the maw of one of the most fierce curse users to ever exist.
godmaker by firein-thesky [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [50K]
#: fem reader - arranged marriage - angst - unhealthy relationships - parental abuse - canon typical violence - hurt/comfort - slow burn - eventual sexual content
And the form leans down, closer, as their voice drops to a murmur, all honey and thorns, the promise of something far greater than you. A storm to come. The future that you will bear upon the slant of your shoulders. And when they speak, you know they’ve cursed you;
“I will teach you how to make a God.”
hey lonely stranger (won't you meet my eye?) by stellamancer [ONESHOT] [6.4K]
#: fem reader - speed dating - unresolved romantic tension - jealous gojo satoru - allusions to canon typical violence
You attend a match-making event and who else should be there but the last person you want to see: Satoru Gojo.
how to be a dog by prettyboykatsuki [TWOSHOT] [37K]
#: fem reader - yandere gojo satoru - manipulation and coercion - stalking - graphic depictions of violence - rape/non-con - forced intimacy - sexual content
"Of course you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love." - ANDREW KANE, HOW TO BE A DOG.
With six eyes to see, it becomes clear. You are being watched.
intrinsic warmth by thatdesklamp [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [150K]
#: fem reader - slow burn - childhood friends - mutual pining - angst - canon typical violence
You meet Satoru on 7th September, 1996.
Some time later, you realise you love him.
let your hand become a blade so i may take it by seravphs [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [10K]
#: princess reader - knight gojo satoru - royal au - forbidden love - period typical misogyny - childhood friends to enemies to lovers
Knights are bound by duty and honor, but Gojo is more devoted to his princess than he ever was to his oaths.
limerence by shibaraki [ONESHOT] [4K]
#: gender neutral reader - friends to lovers - pining - masturbation - sexual tension
The little intimacies you shared together were a fix of Gojo's.
lucky by izvmimi [ONESHOT] [3.5K]
#: fem reader - crack - plot heavy with a little porn - todo aoi's otaku behaviour
You meet someone desperate to win a competition.
men are so quick to blame the gods by awearywritersworld [SERIES] [16K+]
#: fem reader - enemies to lovers - developing relationship - angst - fluff - canon typical violence - not canon compliant - jealousy
Your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night.
playing pretend by itadorey [ONESHOT] [5.4K]
#: gender neutral reader - fake dating - friends to lovers - slice of life and humour
Gojo lies to Shoko in order to win a bet and you're dragged along for the ride.
🔒 polluted by heich0e [ONESHOT] [11K]
#: fem reader - university au - sexual content - recreational drug use - sex under the influence - gangbang - double penetration - dubcon
"Weed doesn't make her annoying," Sukuna drawls, tossing the basketball up again, only this time away from him—you watch as it curves gracefully in the air, swishing through the little net Geto and Gojo have affixed to the back of their dorm room door. "She's always annoying."
[...]
Sukuna's smirk turns into something even sharper, a smile unfurling slow and wicked across his face.
"Weed doesn't make her annoying--it makes her into a whore."
seat taker by coconutdays [ONESHOT] [10K]
#: fem reader - university au - biker geto suguru - sexual tension - fluff - strangers to lovers - eventual sexual content
You have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?
still melting? by arminsumi [ONESHOT] [1.4K]
#: fem reader - best friend geto suguru - romantic and sexual tension - flirting
Practicing putting eyeliner on your best friend, while sat in his lap. He can't help but take this chance to flirt with you. Of course, a certain someone interrupts your moment right at the end
sunset by princess-okkotsu [ONESHOT] [5.6K]
#: princess reader - knight zen'in maki - reader implied shorter than maki - royal au - period typical attitudes - sexual content
You’re a princess, though the last of several siblings, set to never wear the crown of your kingdom. The last to marry, you're suddenly betrothed after your father waged your hand in marriage in some game of bow and arrow. Though you and your knight, Maki, have been content with bottling up your affections for one another, this sudden betrothal has you both wishing for something you know you can't have.
they were just friends by wanderwithme [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [65K]
#: fem reader - fireman fushiguro toji - slow burn - roommates - character death - eventual romance - described as blushing
It’s 4:24 p.m. and the love of your life is cheating on you.
turn me like a beast / hold you to the floor by gardenofnoah [ONESHOT] [6.5K]
#: princess reader - strangers to unfortunate lovers - hunter nanami kento - the fall of a dynasty - major character death - reincarnation - bittersweet ending
The world is at its end, and an unlikely pair finds solace in each other. To love is an animal thing.
wormwood by linkcities [ONESHOT] [25K]
#: fem reader - angst with a happy ending - canon compliant - childhood friends to lovers - mutual pining - codependency - new beginnings
Absence festers in the presence of little yellow wormwood flowers, and you come to learn about how it goes hand in hand with lingering bitterness when you meet Gojo Satoru.
or,
As the young God’s only friend, you are punctured with the burden of his companionship, regardless if you deem yourself unworthy of it.
风月 | wind, moon by itoshisoup [ONESHOT] [7.5K]
#: gender neutral reader - established relationship - fluff - romance
In which you drag Dan Heng halfway across the universe for a candied fruit skewer, and he gets a taste of the life that was once denied to him.
christmas countdown by suguwu [ONESHOT] [16K]
#: gender neutral reader - hallmark au - holiday fluff - age gap - romance
Your company is taking on a new project and desperately wants the backing and expertise of retired CEO Jing Yuan. Dispatched out into the countryside to bring him on board, you find it won't be as easy as you think.
Jing Yuan strikes a bargain with you: spend the upcoming days with him, until Christmas Eve, and he'll tell you exactly what it will take for him to come back if you don't figure it out yourself.
Let the Christmas countdown begin.
nexus by ddarker-dreams [MULTI-CHAP] [51K]
#: fem reader - yandere blade - codependency - eventual sexual content - dark comedy - space politics
You belong to a specialized group — the Arbiters — who are capable of influencing others' perceptions. Your clients hail from all corners of the universe to see their wildest fantasies come true. By establishing a link with them, they can experience a dreamscape of their choosing, more convincing than the latest developments in augmented reality.
You have received many unique requests throughout the years. After the Stellaron Hunter's swordsman saves you from an early demise, you offer him the chance to experience any phantasia of his choosing. It is then that you're posed with a trying challenge:
"Show me what it's like to die."
scrap metal by lorelune [TWOSHOT] [5K]
#: gender neutral reader - captive reader - injury - use of a muzzle - non consensual touching - yandere blade - force feeding
Per Elio's newest script, the Stellaron Hunters take in a stray.
love like no other by nanamimizz [ONESHOT] [2.6K]
#: fem reader - sexual content - established relationship - open communication
Al Haitham is man solemnly thought he would never find love, so when he has that and more the night turns...physical.
you didn't teach me how to forget you by haitaniapologist [TWOSHOT] [15K]
#: ragnvindr fem reader - described as blushing - fluff - lovesick childe - possessiveness
You never thought you would find the boy who haunted your childhood in a trip to Liyue.
arranged marriages and well-kept secrets by dearayato [ONESHOT] [1.7K]
#: gender neutral reader - established relationship - talk of marriage - proposals
Ayato props himself on his elbows, a smug smile adorning his face, “Don’t worry love, the only person I see in my future is you.”
for you are the world by lorelune [MULTI-CHAP] [29K]
#: fem reader - childhood friends to lovers - post trauma - fluff - hurt/comfort - chronic injuries - sexual content - protective diluc
You return to Mondstadt after many years away, sick, with an feeling that's all-too familiar and unwelcome.
bury me by deskaisers [ONESHOT] [8.8K]
#: fem reader - described as blushing - stepcest - step brother oliver aiku - virginity - corruption kink - unprotected sex
Your father's new relationship was rather unexpected, but there was no way in hell you could have predicted everything else that came with it.
everything's better when you're honest by prettyboykatsuki [ONESHOT] [11K]
#: fem reader - friends to lovers - professional athlete isagi yoichi - reader is sexually experienced - sexual content
you notice early on that isagi is always holding back something. the deeper into your relationship you go, the more you wish he'd let loose.
to my first love by by-moonflower [TWOSHOT][17.3K]
#: fem reader - high school au to married au - non-linear narrative - exploring girlhood - fluff - angst - romance - suggestive - described as blushing
When you agreed to date itoshi sae in mid-October of 1993, you never imagined he'd be your first love—whose presence would continue to linger in your life, hauntingly, even if a year, two, or ten came to pass.
finding peace in the spontaneous wild (that is you) by tired-biscuit [ONESHOT] [26K]
#: fem reader - university au - modern supernatural elements - friends to lovers - werewolf kiba - mutual pining - eventual sexual content
You run into Kiba at the grocery store, around two weeks after returning home from college.
🔒 tacenda by namodawrites [MULTI-CHAP] [100K]
#: gender neutral reader - mutual pining - slow burn - childhood friends to lovers - canon typical violence - rivalry
Somewhere along the way trying to prove Neji wrong about fate and destiny, you fall in love.
den of wolves by kuramakakashi [MULTICHAP] [37K]
#: senju reader - descriptions of gore - uchiha centric - canon typical violence - worldbuilding
Peace in our time – it was the dream your cousin had championed since childhood, and it was the foundation for all of his efforts to bring the constant warring between clans to a permanent end.
And it was why he sent you into the den of wolves with only one order: Save Izuna Uchiha.
🔒 birds of a feather by namodawrites [ONESHOT] [18K]
#: gender neutral reader - touchstarved - possessive behaviour - comfort/angst - canon typical violence
Knives rediscovers his humanity while recovering. You fight hard not to lose yours.
bittersweet by heich0e [ONESHOT [6K]
#: afab reader - domestic fluff - sharing a bed - gentle sex - sweet soggy vash
Something shuffles in the dark.
Papa left you a gun, too. Even taught you how to shoot it. Mama hated that. She hated how good you were at it even more. She used to say that shooting was gonna be your husband’s job someday, and that even in a world this wicked Papa was teaching you things you didn’t need to know.
But now Mama’s gone. And Papa’s gone. And the world is still wicked. And you’ve got no husband, but you have a gun you know how to shoot.
and I know it’s hard enough to love me (but I woke up in a safe house) by seoafin [ONESHOT] [4K]
#: fem reader - sharing a bed - tending to wounds - fluff - blood and injury
“My husband and I would like a room. We’re on our honeymoon”.
“In this shithole of a town?” The innkeeper asks with a raised eyebrow, looking from you to Vash, who only lets out a sheepish chuckle as he scratches the back of his head. Despite his sluggish breaths, his slow blinking gaze, and the red slowly staining his shirt.
solar lunacy by bamsara [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [225K]
#: gender neutral reader - slow burn - fluff and angst - developing relationships - blood and injury - posessive behaviour
You weren’t a technician, you weren’t a security guard, you weren’t a daycare assistant. You’re just an employee. Staff. The ‘jack-of-all-trades’ employee with mediocre at best skills and specialty in none, tasked with doing miscellaneous jobs that robots couldn’t do and human staff couldn’t care to. The job is unpredictable, but it pays good and it’s relatively easy.
Except for the part where all the animatronics are more sentient than you thought, and you’re roped into a mystery surrounding the Daycare Attendants, who are bit too curious about you for your liking.
You don’t think this was in your employee contact.
cryptid sightings by naffeclipse [MULTICHAP] [250K]
#: gender neutral reader - cryptid au - reader is a cryptid hunter - horror - blood and violence - sleep terrors - non-sexual intimacy - posessive behaviour
Perhaps this would scare a person, being all alone in the woods in the dark, but not you. You’re too intertwined with the paranormal and inexplicable. It’s in your blood. That doesn’t mean your heart won’t pound with terror when you face something with fangs and hungry eyes for flesh, but you don’t run away, and that’s what matters most.
You will face the monsters.
celestial sundown by pillowspace [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [80K]
#: gender neutral reader - god au - historical fantasy - slow burn - blood and injury - developing relationships - dimension travel
You are a peasant living in the middle of the woods, Sun is the god of day you brought back home with you, and Moon is the god of night tucked away in the Celestial Realm.
method acting by seeingivy [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [168K]
#: fem reader - celebrity au - actor eren jaeger - enemies to friends to lovers - slow burn - miscommunication - eventual fluff - social media elements
Method acting is a very powerful skill. Using your own personal, physical, and emotional self and pouring it into the character on the screen makes for a powerful performance. Except when it's you and Eren - you're not sure where the acting starts, and real life begins.
public relations by crybaby-ink [ONESHOT] [12K]
#: afab reader - office romance - boss/employee relationship - power dynamics - drama - politics - sexual content
Even though Zeke has had a little crush on you for a while now, he’s mostly okay with things in the office staying exactly the way they are. Mostly.
vestal virgin by bokutosdove [ONESHOT] [6K]
#: fem reader - modern au - sexual content - loss of virginity - jean kirstein has a corruption kink - protected sex - implied dom/sub dynamic
A virgin consecrated and vowed to chastity; a chaste woman.
wild card by wellitcouldbeworse3 [MULTI-CHAP] [215K]
#: fem reader - hunger games au - tribute levi ackerman - blood and violence - slow burn - psychological torture - character death - reader is proficient at archery - described as blushing
When you're selected to be the tribute representing District 12 in the 121st annual Hunger Games, you're pretty sure you're screwed. But, somehow, there's two things working in your favor.
One: you're not half bad with a bow and arrow.
Two: the male tribute from District 2 seems to have his eye on you...
❄︎ DEMON SLAYER
something blue by extrav1rgin [ONESHOT] [11K]
#: fem reader - described as blushing - arranged marriage - angst with a happy ending - hurt/comfort - not canon compliant
Turning away you trace your way back through the route Giyuu had taken you down before. As you walk nearly silently you keep your ears out for the sound of another human.
You find a note stuck to the door when you make your way toward it. If it was there before you must’ve missed it.
‘Gone on a mission, will be back.’
And you suppose that’s that.
❄︎ HELL'S PARADISE
safe for one more night with you by nagumoan [ONESHOT] [3.3K]
#: fem reader - established relationship - domestic fluff - humour - sexual content
You get to share one last night with your husband Shion before his work will steal him from the warmth of your embrace with the first rays of the sun in the morning.
❄︎ BUNGO STRAY DOGS
pharos by auraxins [ONESHOT] [14K]
#: afab reader - mer au - eldritch mer chuuya - strangers to lovers - island survival - blood and injury - eventual sexual content - unprotected sex
“Who are you?” you call. “What business have you here?”
“You don't know?” barks the man, incredulousness in his tone. “You summoned me here.”
“I fixed the lighthouse,” you correct. “I did not summon anything.”
❄︎ TOKYO REVENGERS
from his mind to hers by embossross [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [102K]
#: fem reader - dark content - patient x doctor relationship - sexual content - stalking - cheating
Forced into therapy, Hanma expects to waste his time and yours, but you’re not about to let the chance of a high-profile and higher paying patient slip through your grasp. The fact that you’re both attracted to each other doesn’t hurt either.
❄︎ ONE PIECE
breathe me in by standfucker [ONESHOT] [7.4K]
#: fem reader - inappropriate use of devil fruit powers - described as blushing - rough unprotected sex - creampie and breeding
As a woman in the Marines, the path to Read Admiral has been rough, but Smoker's been there for you since the beginning.
❄︎ BALDUR'S GATE
through the gates of horn and oak by sensoo [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [116K]
#: fem reader - graphic depictions of violence - sexual content - fluff - F/M/M threesomes - spoilers marked by chapter
Each of them needs something different, but under the surface it's really the same thing. The burden of leadership is isolating and it is so difficult to carry on alone. Zevlor is trying to navigate through the shattered pieces of his life. Halsin is haunted by regrets and the tasks left unfinished. And you can't stop meddling in everyone else's affairs, even as you swear up and down that you're just trying to survive.
Living is more than survival, but both are getting increasingly more difficult.
the five senses by nanamimizz [SERIES] [9K]
#: fem cleric reader - non-sexual intimacy - angst - hurt/comfort - developing relationship - exploring trauma
A five part mini-series with everyone's favorite high elf vampire focusing on non-sexual intimacy and the budding relationship you foster with the guarded rouge.
❄︎ TWISTED WONDERLAND
uniform by giratinazero [ONESHOT] [2.4K]
#: fem reader - non-sexual intimacy - undressing
With one gloved hand he reached up, threading his delicate fingers through a loop in the heart-shaped collar to drag you down to his height. Riddle slowly, purposely ran his eyes up and down the length of your body— you could feel the frustration that simmered just under the surface, like a teapot left on the heat and about to burst with steam.
❄︎ MORTAL KOMBAT
inescapable by dynamites [ONESHOT] [7K]
#: gender neutral reader - light angst - crossing timelines - pining
From half across the somber battlefield, someone keeps glancing your way.
❄︎ BLEACH
cherry coloured funk by grinmjows [ONESHOT] [8.7K]
#: fem reader - described to have dark hair and pale skin - explicit incest - sexual content
You usually find the moonlit nights strangely empty, for when you call your brother's name through them, he never answers.
desperate measures by ghost-party [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [27K]
#: fem reader - modern au - transactional relationship - sugar daddy - age difference - dom/sub dynamic - sexual content - violence
After you’ve been laid off from your job, your friend Rangiku recommends a very specific kind of dating app — one where rich, lonely men seek younger partners to spoil. Reluctantly, you decide to give it a try. You tell yourself it’s a one-time thing, and that you have no plans on becoming dependent on anyone, let alone falling for them. But Sosuke Aizen makes you rethink everything…
❄︎ IDOLISH 7
in the eyes of the tide by namodawrites [ONESHOT] [15K]
#: gender neutral reader - merman au - secret identity - angst - hurt/comfort
Oogami Banri is a calm, unassuming man. His first and second impressions of you had been undignified to say the least: encountering you passed out on a bench outside of a little shop, sheltered beneath its slanted tiled awning; assisting you to escape a cave during high tide, too afraid of the strange shapes you’d seen in the water to make the short journey alone.
❄︎ GOD OF WAR
and touched with the wonder of mortal beauty, her face by vampireloverz [ONESHOT] [8.8K]
#: fem reader - pre-canon - size difference - sexual content - unprotected sex - canon-typical violence - described with body hair - reader is lifted by character
You hum to yourself, curious about what business he has in the woods, maybe it has something to do with whatever mysterious thing he has wrapped in foreign fabric. Through the days, you find yourself thinking of him. This warrior, this man, so elusive he feels almost like a ghost. You find yourself earnestly looking forward to the next time you come across each other.
❄︎ DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS
kinktober: monsterfucking by mintmatcha [TWOSHOT][5K]
#: cisfem reader - original character romance - racism in a fantasy setting - sexual content - monsterfucking
After months of adventuring with your party, you can't help but be curious about a certain dragonborne...
❄︎ THE HUNGER GAMES
the death of an actor by uzurimisery [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [36K]
#: fem reader - fake dating - misogyny - reader is dr. gaul's daughter - sexual content - unhealthy dynamics
Y/N Gaul the Capitol's unregulated daughter of Dr. Gaul. Argumentative, independent, and hindrance to Coriolanus Snow's life plans.He can't stand you, you’re impossible for him to read. When your mother concocts a hairbrained plan to better set up her protege you’re caught in the crossfire and forced to play the part of Snow’s lover. Now if only the lines of what's an act and what was real wouldn’t get so blurry.
❄︎ DC UNIVERSE
callipygian by onesmartcookie78, pennydragons [MULTI-CHAP: ONGONG] [70K]
#: original female character - described as blushing - canon typical violence - enemies to friends to lovers - secret identity - batfamily drama
"She knows that ass. In fact, she'd spent the whole day staring at pictures of it. So she is absolutely, 100% certain that ass belongs to Dick Grayson. Now, if Dick Grayson wants to run across the rooftops dressed in spandex, that's his prerogative. The problem is, he's not just Dick Grayson. No. Dick Grayson is Nightwing. And she has questions."
She hadn't been trying to figure out who he was. In fact, she was trying to uncover the identity of the Red Hood. But now that she knows, she can't go back.
let me just add there are an infinite amount of other amazing fics that will not have made this rec list purely due to the time constraints, submission limit and lack of reach, etc. your fic is valuable and loved whether it made the cut or not—please do remember that!!!!!!
#m.navi#hq x reader#bnha x reader#jjk x reader#hsr x reader#bllk x reader#trigun x reader#x reader fic#x reader fic rec#fic
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Snow Day
SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you
Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.
The human was still there.
…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.
The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.
Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.
That was so cool.
So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?
So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.
The human didn’t see him at all.
Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.
Tundra pounced.
And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.
He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.
There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.
…Oh.
“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“
“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”
Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”
The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”
“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”
The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”
“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.
“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”
“I’ve…never hunted before.”
Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”
The human hesitated.
“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”
The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””
“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”
The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.
Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”
There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!
And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—
And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.
Whoops!
#phic phight 2024#phic phight#faer fic#danny phantom#far frozen#I needed a yeti to look down at Danny and be like 'this is a best friend' and I needed Danny to look up and go 'this is...legit a baby'#no frostbite this time though check the previous instead#whoah did you know danny phantom was trending today you guys no way /j#no I am still not over the greenland shark nor fish eyes together we can COME TOGETHER AND APPRECIATE CULTURE SPECIFIC DELICACIES#HOLD MY HAND. WE WILL FIND WORLD PEACE. TOGETHER
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★彡BRAT TAMER☆彡
Gyomei Himejima x Fem! Reader
TW: Soft Dom! Gyomei • Fem! Reader • Brat Taming • Spanking • Punishment • Creampie • Breeding Kink • Dom/Sub dynamics • Belly Bulge • Fluff • Gyomei says a naughty word🫢
Happy birthday Gyomei Himejima♥️
This is Gyomei so it’s fluffy, but I’m planning to write a Dabi Brat Tamer fic… and make it less fluffy ;)
Your husband is always so patient.
His poignant attitude allowed hardly any irritation to be sent your way.
Instead, he felt sorry for you.
He felt sorry you felt like acting out all day. Whatever had gotten you in a such a rotten and irritable mood, he desperately wanted to eliminate it. His sweet darling wife, whom he holds close to his heart and prays for only peace and happiness. Yes, his small and adorable spouse, has been nothing but an immature brat from the rising of the sun to the setting of it. Since the birds began their morning harmony, you’d felt the need to push and pick at his enormous generosity and patience.
He felt sorry for you.
Yet his sorrow would not amount to how sorry you were going to be if you didn’t stop.
He knew he’d just returned from a terribly long mission away from you. He was aware the loneliness had built up while he was away, and you were only releasing the frustration you were forced to hold onto in his absence. This entire week he’s been home, your actions spoke of nothing but defiance and a forced hierarchy shift in your shared household.
You’ve continuously interrupted his prayer and meditation time.
“Mei, I need this done.” Your chores mindless and seemingly made up each and every time, like shifting a statue in the garden because it wasn’t attracting the birds you adored anymore… even though it was in spring which they returned.
You’ve denied all attempts at intimacy, and Gyomei is not a man who would ever pressure for anything sexual in nature, but he misses your sweet lips and soft figure in his arms. Even just holding his hand, whispering shared words of love, or basking in one another’s company has been rejected. You’re busy, as you’ve put it.
Yet desperately needy when he turns his attention elsewhere after rejection.
“My love, if I have dissatisfied you, I must know how I might amend this.”
“Gyomei… you haven’t, I’m fine.”
Yes.
He’s your ever patient and adoring husband.
His breaking point is surprisingly small and simple. His tears for once not flowing, but instead a few veins bulging from his skin in raw and prominent anger.
He’s your ever patient and adoring husband, until you do something foolish and hurt yourself. Your childishness and stubborn attitude of “I can do it myself”has you falling and nearly breaking your ankle. Attempting to reach a rafter on your own despite his size to help a regular visiting old cat down. The yowling elderly feline completely blind and often finding itself in need of rescue. He wasn’t entirely sure how you managed to get up there alone, likely some even more dangerous assembly of household items stacked for your journey up there. If he was not blind and had seen it, his fury might’ve even been more terrifying.
It was your sweet cooing, something he’s been deprived of, to the feline which caught his attention initially. It was the choked gasp which he’d heard from his meditation spot outside which had him moving. Despite all he was as a man, a proud Hashira, and your husband, he failed to catch you.
Your pain filled yelp and following tears enough to shatter his heart.
True to your attitude this week, your big watery eyes looked up at him, melting him, before your words dropped a bucket of ice water over everything.
“This is your fault! …sniff…”
Annoyance overwhelmed him. He only chanted lowly Namu Amidabutsu while carrying you off to be checked by a doctor. Your whines and sniffles normally invoking his own tears, but he’s silent and calm as he takes you away.
The doctor tells you to be more careful and stay off the foot as much as possible for the next few days. Nothing was broken, just a sprain and some swelling. Comfort would normally be the first thing you’d seek, your husband’s wide and pillowy chest perfect to burrow into and complain.
It’s a quiet few following days, as you heal and hobble around. So quiet, it becomes evident your world is off. Your patient, kind, and benevolent husband… is like an ice wall. Stoic, chanting from morning till night, praying, training, and then ignoring you. Quite literally ignoring you too, standing as if he can’t hear you despite having some of the best hearing of anyone you know. He avoids all contact with you, it’s as if you’re air and don’t exist. You think it a challenge, who can outlast the other in this Cold War, but it was never a battle you’d succeed in. No, despite your best and brattiest attempts, despite trying to seduce him, despite becoming furious and yelling at him… you lost. Your tears falling first, your heart crumbling, and your anxiety winning.
It’s late that evening, and your husband is out meditating under the moon. Looking serene and beautiful while you internally crumble as you move towards him. He knows you’re there, his hums and low chants not stopping even as your fall to your knees.
“Mei…” your weak and wobbly voice does nothing.
“Gyomei…” again, it’s as if you aren’t there at all.
“…I’m sorry…hck…please I’m sorry… I was wrong.” Tears fell like rain drops from your eyes and down your cheeks, dripping from your chin to your clenched hands in your lap. You really were sorry. “I don’t know why I- please, I’m sorry my love, please talk to me… I’ll do anything—”
“Anything?” You hadn’t realized he’d stopped chanting, his attention, and sweet focus on you for the first time in days.
“Y-yes! My love I—” he raised a palm to silence you.
“Go to our room. I want you naked on the floor when I come in.”
“…?” You’re dumbfounded, unsure if you even heard him correctly. Except Gyomei is standing, his full height even more intimidating as you flounder to stand back up. He’s wordlessly walking away, not in the direction of your shared bedroom, but smartly you choose to follow his orders instead of following him. His wide and impressive back getting smaller in the distance as you hurry along to complete the task at hand.
It’s somewhat cool in the room, and for the last several days Gyomei hasn’t slept in the space with you at all. The bed wasn’t made, not like you’d normally do, and for once you bit your lip and quickly tidied it despite him not even being able to see it. It helped calm your racing heart though, as you begin slipping from your robes, shivering as your bare skin comes in contact with the chilled air. You weren’t sure what else to do after that, instead just sitting on the floor and waiting.
Wait you did, nearly half an hour. Shivering and continuously debating between wrapping yourself in a blanket or not. He’d hear the rustling of fabric though, and you didn’t want to risk him thinking you disobeyed. Just as the internal war was nearly won, you heard familiar firm footsteps approaching. As Gyomei slid the door open, his head dipping to allow him into the space without knocking his face. He wasn’t empty handed though, and you noticed something that had the blood draining from your face.
It was a thin but sturdy looking branch, all protruding smaller leaves and branches removed. It was a switch, likely from the wisteria tree in your garden.
The door slid closed, and your husband’s face revealed nothing to you as you tried to reason with yourself that this wasn’t happening.
Except it apparently was. Gyomei bypassed you sitting on the floor, moving to take up a spot on your shared bed, legs spread wide but the branch remaining in his had had your heart rate picking up. His tone left no room for arguments.
“Come here.”
While Gyomei certainly wasn’t inclined towards corporal punishment, he also couldn’t think of a more simple method. Ignoring you wasn’t that healthy. Forgiving and forgetting wasn’t an option either, your behavior having become self destructive.
“Lay on your stomach here,” he pats his right thigh, “and lay your face here,” he’s got a pillow beside him which he taps. He can feel your trembling as you climb on the bed, but he’s proud you’re listening so well for him. “Good girl.” He punctuates his praise by gently petting down your hair, letting you settle into position, forced to stick your ass higher and feel your own arousal slightly cool on your thighs. You’re trembling in fear yes, but there’s something else in your gut that has you shaking too.
“My love… m’sorry please, c-can we talk?” You know what’s going to happen, it’s fairly obvious, but a small part of you wants to beg your way out of it. If you can just sound scared enough, seem meek and cute enough, then maybe….
“Hii!” Your yelp is accompanied by the swish and slap of the switch hitting your bare ass.
“Namu Amidabutsu….” He’s murmuring now as a few tears slide down his cheeks, but as you jolt and attempt to get up because of the sting, a big palm is forcing you back down. Pinning you to his thigh as another strike lands and has you wailing. It’s a miserable sound, your little whines and cries pitiful and truly sounding sorry, but Gyomei is murmuring each offense he’s had to lock in his heart for every tiny lash against your soft doughy ass and thighs.
“hurting yourself…” “Mei! I’m sorry!”
“telling me I’m annoying…” “Sorry!”
“going to bed without me…” “p-please..”
“brushing me off…” “hck!”
“ignoring me…” “…sniff…”
“not saying you love me back…” only your pathetic whimpers are offered in consolation. The last offense even hurting you, because you don’t know why you did it, where it all came from. You just know you’re sobbing uncontrollably now. The pain on your bottom already fading, only some red lines detailing where he’d punished you. It didn’t matter, the flood gates had been opened, and you were a mess as you begged for forgiveness.
Even as your lower belly burned in heat and arousal. It was an odd combination, the release of such emotion and rush of pleasure from the strange intimacy of it all.
You jolt in surprise as his large palm softly passes over your sore and sensitive ass, the caress nearly consoling as you let yourself slowly relax.
“Mei…”
“Shh… you did so good my love. Thank you for being obedient.”
He let his other hand go free, throwing the switch far off. Cooing and gently patting down your hair. He seemed to melt into your sweet protective husband again. Except the hand that was so softly tracing your ass dipped lower, eliciting a moan as Gyomei allowed his thick finger to swipe over your drenched entrance.
“Crying here too…?” His tone is slightly teasing, but you can’t retort back as the rough and calloused digit rubs your clit with the arousal which leaked out of you now. Swirling and pressing even as your hips shake and wiggle and you moan into the blankets. The hand on your head tightens, so minutely you don’t notice until your face is unburied and your moans are forced to echo through the room. It’s not until he wiggles his finger into your tight cunt that you really feel like melting. Your whole body on fire as Gyomei slowly and nearly torturously slides in and out of you, rubbing around your gooey slick heat.
“Oh fuck Mei, please.” Your mewling in pleasure now, trying to arch your back further in his lap and buck your hips back into his hand. Fingers digging into the blankets and twisting the fabric as he adds another finger to your drooling hole.
“You really don’t deserve a reward.” You aren’t listening to him, not at all, as he finger fucks you. The sounds in the room becoming erotic, the wet squelching of your walls sucking in his fingers filthy. You’re closer than you’d ever been with him only mildly playing with you, absolutely teetering on the edges of an orgasm. Your body shaking, perspiration dotting your skin, as you wantonly cried out for your husband as you nearly reach your peak—
“No!” He slides his fingers out at the last moment. “Why’d you stop?” Your distress palpable as one hand reaches back to try and grab his wrist, to bring it back to your soaked pussy where you need it.
Instead you feel two wet fingers pressing against your lips until you open, his fingers invading your mouth now, to taste yourself and what could’ve been your release. His skin is rough even against your tongue, playing and teasing the muscle in your mouth as you begin to suck and lick.
“Good girl…” the praise goes right back to your neglected orgasm, your hips wiggling and body trying to push up. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with an audible pop, and you can barely see from the corner of your eye Gyomei lick the very same fingers he’d used on your cunt and mouth. You groan in arousal and frustration, but are smart enough to keep your comments to yourself.
“Do you wish to cum love?” You’ve never answered faster in your life.
“Yes! Please darling, I want to cum for you.”
His expression isn’t right, though his cheeks are flushed and breathing slightly heavy, he seems mildly amused.
“Then you’re going to work for it.”
Confused but not turned off by this dominant side of your husband, you agree softly, letting him move you so you’re sitting in his lap now. Legs spread and thighs hugging his waist.
His warm breath, the scent of sandalwood and wisteria clinging to his robes and skin, leaves you aching inside. He leans down, at firstly only lightly brushing his lips over yours before finally kissing you. The kiss turns deeper and more passionate by the second, Gyomei’s normally cautious and devote attitude towards you waning. He’s much rougher instead as your fingers sink into his clothing, his thick tongue sliding into your mouth and devouring you. His deep and vocal groan have you shaking again, this time in pure and carnal need for him.
You’re quick to try and remove his clothing, pawing clumsily while he still maintains his composure and slowly fulfills your silent request in stripping so you can feel his chest and body. Only able to receive at this moment and not take, mindlessly grinding against your husband’s still covered body.
Gyomei’s hands roam you, normally his favorite pass time just feeling and seeing you in his own way. Taking you in for all that you are. He’s not looking at you right now though, not as a hand cups your breast to roll and pinch your poor nipple before switching to the other for the same treatment. He’s not looking now, as he anchors your greedy movements and limits your range of motion with an arm around your waist. He’s feeling you, feeling your passion, and controlling it so skillfully it’s leaving you reeling and in a completely new space.
Once Gyomei is satisfied with your swollen wet lips, his own matching with a devastating smirk, he lifts you entirely up with one arm to yank and pull off any clothing preventing him from sinking his thick throbbing cock inside you.
“Gyomei oh!” He’s never fucked you with so little prep before, normally pulling at least two orgasms from your body before entering you… but entering like this—
“Tight—,” he hissed as the tip slides into your opening, splitting your pussy open and making room for each inch, “—relax my love.” Gyomei is cruel, impaling you on his enormous rod as you struggle to even breath right now. Choking on air as you try to relax, try to allow him inside you without tensing up and feeling even fuller if it were possible. A whimper escapes from Gyomei’s grit teeth, as he struggles to let gravity sink you down instead of his own strength stuffing you full. “Feels so good love, doing so well for me,” he grunts as he feels your walls pulse and flutter around him, milking his shaft as he mutters a few calming chants to keep himself from being too rough with you. Your moans and whimpers soon swallowed by another wet hot kiss, tongues dancing as you cry into Gyomei’s mouth when his tip pushes in enough that you feel a dull ache up inside you.
If you looked down, you’d see his thick cock protruding just a little from inside you. This position sinking him deep, your breathing ragged and uneven as you dig your nails into his biceps to ground yourself.
Your husband is not merciful tonight, the welts on your ass burning a bit from the hairs on his thighs and the position you’re in rubbing. The pain mixed with the overwhelming pleasure of being so full leaves you struggling to focus. Your hips trying to grind and move, to attach yourself close to Gyomei and rub your clit just enough on his pelvis to help you finish.
His hands halt you.
“Bounce.” With that command, he’s leaning back, shifting his cock further up inside you. “Oh hmn!” You try to scramble off a little, “S’too deep!”Gyomei lifts you a little, kind enough not to go too far yet with you, your pussy needing time to fully adjust and take him. On his back, he’s like a work of art laid out for you, scars adorning his skin like brush strokes of life. His muscles taunt as he breathes deeply, keeping still and letting you set the pace.
You start slow, the heavy drag of his cock in your walls actually taking leg work to pull up from. Your greedy cunt wrapped tightly around him and refusing to let go, but the pleasure increases along with your slick, allowing for an easier glide soon. Your body bounces, balls of your feet digging into the bed for stability as your thighs quake and you struggle to maintain composure. Your cries and Gyomei’s deep moans and breathless grunts have that tightness returning. Gyomei has a familiar itch in his chest as he listens and feels, desperate to look at you and see you come apart, but his hands can only move to cup your cheeks. Fingers caressing and moving over your face to feel you, the tears still drying and the wetness on your lips he left.
He can’t help the way his hips buck, fucking up into you. “Always taking me so well my love, just made for my cock.” He’s panting, loving how your little hands scramble on his skin to clutch onto him for purchase. “You don’t need to think anymore, do you?” He’s driven wild by your senseless babbling and noises, the sounds of skin slapping as you try to match his erratic thrusts, the feeling of your combined fluids beginning to make you both sticky. The way you smell, your soft natural musk making his mouth water and thighs clench. He’s slightly disappointed not having fucked your hole first with his tongue, so he could gather the taste of you on his lips before he’d slid his cock inside you.
“Oh,” you feel like a rag doll, Gyomei’s hands roaming your face and body so sweet compared to the way he was bullying his tip against your cervix. Driving you further into a mindless whore, desperate for the orgasm you seem to keep being denied. It hurt but it felt too good for you to ask for a break, a deep trust still built between you both, and if you begged him to to stop he would. You were so close, just on the edge, and every moment you’d almost shatter is the time Gyomei would thrust. Breaking your concentration and starting you all over.
Your thighs are aching from the strain of exertion, your movements slowing down, sweat sliding down your body and making it harder to grip on to Gyomei.
You were getting tired, your release so close. “Husband, my love, p-please, please I need to cum.” You sound broken, voice hoarse from all of your crying and moaning. “I can’t do it anymore, I need you, need you please darling.” Gyomei has always adored the sound of your voice, but he adores this voice of yours probably the most.
“Since you’ve asked nicely.” Your world spins, before you feel yourself enveloped in the softness of your bed, your husband now looming over you and covering you completely. His lips capture yours, moaning into the kiss as he easily spreads your legs, one thigh encouraged to wrap around his waist while he holds the other up. He’s sliding in much easier now, the squelch of your pussy nearly drown out by your cry of pleasure. Each inch filling you up once more, but now you’re not in control. Gyomei’s thrusts are deep and heavy no matter how gentle he attempts to be. Your body jolting with his movements, even as he begins slowly.
“I’m going to make you cum my love, shh, you’re fine, breathe,” he’s speeding up, your eyes rolling back as you feel your limits nearing dangerously close with your orgasm, “Keep taking me just like this.” His husky tone is debauched as he moans your name, his muscles taunt as he worked his tip into a familiar spot inside you which he knows drives you wild.
“Mei, oh please, yes, I-I’m g-gonna—“ it’s a wonder if he’s showing mercy when he begins to fully fuck his entire length into you or not. Either way, the cord inside you finally snaps, a silent cry on your lips as your back arches off the mattress. Gyomei is quick to shift, dropping your thigh in favor of gripping your ass and angling your hips higher for himself to pave a new path inside of you with his cock. Your spasming cunt creaming around him doesn’t slow his pace, seemingly intent on fucking you stupid now. You’re used like a toy now, too weak to fully contribute more than your sounds of ecstasy and nail marks in his forearms or chest where you can reach.
“That’s it love, just let me use you now. You don’t need to do anything else but take it.” His words are mixed with desperate grunts and even something akin to a growl deep in his chest.
“Please s’too- ngh” Your soft body is pliant in his hold, which Gyomei is happy to fold up. Your pussy finally stretched enough to accommodate all of his length and girth without the pain which has you whining and scrambling away from him.
“Can’t—no—,” even as the words leave your lips, you’re wracked again by another climax as Gyomei rubs your swollen clit with his thumb. The gentle rolling motions juxtaposed to his rough drilling inside your gummy walls.
“Do you want me to—hah—fill you up?” His skin is soaked in sweat like yours, rolling down his muscles and creating nearly a dreamy state from the heat you both radiated in the cool room.
You didn’t even think about before you started begging.
“Yes Mei, fill me please, need— oh fuck—“ He’s pressed so close to you, his weight nearly a burden until thankfully he uses a free hand to keep himself up as his dick throbs and twitches inside you. Each hot rope of cum filling you up, space limited with Gyomei inside, leading it to spill out the sides and down his heavy balls. His hips still, panting above you while his pleasure and orgasm wash over him.
“So lovely.” He murmurs as he pulls out, your legs going limp as Gyomei’s cum leaks out of your body with the absence of his cock to keep you plugged. A kiss to your forehead and cheeks, then your neck and chest, and down your stomach has your twitching.
It’s not until you feel his lips on your inner thigh that you realize what he’s doing.
“I already came twice…” your little unspoken plea not convincing enough.
“Then cum again my love.” His wide flat tongue begins boldly on your slit. Lapping up his own cum leaking out of you as well as your own. His muffled moan against you has your hands twisting into his hair, tugging for more or less unclear as you writhe. Strong licks are soon accompanied by two fingers, intent on prodding and stretching you out more. The wet spot beneath you growing bigger by the minute as Gyomei passionately eats your pussy. Your scent and his was a delirious combination that has his length hardening again, rutting against the soft sheets and blankets you’ve both sullied. When your thighs twitch and close around his face, he doubles his efforts, lightly sucking on your clit while flicking it with the tip of tongue, fingers curling and fucking you perfectly until you shatter again.
The pressure of his fingers in that spot leaving your body no choice as you squirt, soaking his lower face and body. His smile blocked by your twitching and crying figure, your head thrown back as you try to push his face away, his fingers still move inside you.
You can’t even speak anymore, mindlessly moaning even as tears flow down your cheeks.
Finally he gives reprieve, removing his hand and only softly licking up your release, not attempting to further arouse you.
You lay panting, unfocused and tired red rimmed eyes staring at your completely recovered husband. His dick hard, the heavy weight of it not allowing it to stand at full attention, gravity pulling it down.
A bad feeling entered your gut.
You listened to it this time. Flipping onto your stomach, you’re quick to make an eecape from under him. Just as your legs drag up to let you get off the bed, Gyomei’s hand is around an ankle. Tugging you back with a laugh not suitable for the situation, nearly mocking.
“My love, I didn’t say we were done. Where are you going?” He’s speaking and moving at the same time, a hand on your hip pulling you up onto all fours as his tip finds your messy entrance.
A strange warbled noise leaves your throat when he shoves the entire thing inside in one go. Instantly filling you and leaving you no room to move or breathe as the room spins.
Gyomei isn’t any better off. Your tight pussy overstimulating him, your body beneath his hands making him lose focus. He wants to fuck you harder, be rougher, let you see how much he’s been holding back this entire time.
He’s not gentle. His pace brutal from the start, one hand on your hip to keep you up, and another wrapped around you belly. Feeling the tip of his cock through you with each thrust, his moans mingling with your broken cries. Your face in the blankets, hands clutching onto the fabric for comfort as your husband claims you in a way he’s never done before.
You don’t want it to stop. Even as you feel like you’re losing your sanity, as your thighs and ass burn from your punishment, the literal force of his body against yours too much. You want him to break you, leave you nothing but a mess for his pleasure for once.
“Ngh, do you like this love? See how much I hold back for—ah—you?” He’s hardly thrusting as he is yanking you back onto his cock, your limp body easily sliding on and off.
“Should I keep you like this all night?” He knows you can’t answer, you can hardly cry out anymore.
“I’ve missed you my love, missed your sweet words, your love and sincerity, and your body.” It’s a very romantic and Gyomei like confession, but your fucked out brain registers nothing anymore, still too focused on the orgasm you’re going to have again.
“Are you lonely my dear? Should I make sure you’re with child come morning?” He’s taken back by how badly that scenario arouses him. Would it help you feel less stressed while he was away to not be alone? To have children love and help care for you with him?
He’s pounding you, your drenched face rubbing against the sheets as you’re dragged back and forth like a doll. Mouth open and drooling as you cum again, this time followed by Gyomei who nearly shouts as his orgasm hits. His own body shaking and trembling from the force of pleasure bleeding into his system.
You’re wrapped in strong arms and rolled to your side, Gyomei’s semi-hard cock still nestled inside you with his cum as his lips find whatever available skin he can kiss.
“I love you my dearest, thank you for being mine… was I too rough with you?” Gyomei waits a while for an answer that does not come, until he realizes you’re completely passed out. Limp and exhausted, you must’ve lost consciousness on your last orgasm.
Chuckling, he’s kind enough to clean you up, change the sheets to dry ones, and cuddle up with in your shared bed. His breathing quick to even out with yours, holding you in his arms.
Come morning, there’s plenty of time to talk as you lay bed ridden, your patient and dutiful husband happy to care for you. The conversation leading to deeper understand between one another, and a realization to your behavior and feelings being linked with stress and anxiety.
While you feel comforted and sure to take good care of your husband in the future, you do take note of what acting out gets you.
#Gyomei Himejima#Gyomei smut#Gyomei x reader#Gyomei x fem! reader#Gyomei x y/n#18+#mdni#happy birthday Gyomei#kny smut#kny#kny Gyomei#belly bulge#brat taming#soft! dom Gyomei#he says naughty words
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𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Academy!Reader
Warnings: Dub-Con, Seduction/Manipulation, Oral (female and male receiving), Handjob, Food Play (feeding each other/licking stuff off bodies, but its more of a seduction tactic), Finger Sucking, Ruined Orgasm, Slight Overstimulation, Slight Dacryphilia Kink, Reader is spoiled and delulu, Sub!Coriolanus
**Based off this irl porn post (takes you to Twitter/X).
Word Count: 10K
A/N: Literally just started the book today so Coriolanus is probs wayyyy out of character but . . . just go with it lol. I wanted him to be ✨subby✨
Summary: When you find out that the great Coriolanus Snow is not as financially well off as he makes himself out to be, you can't help but take advantage of his vulnerability.
Hunger is a weapon - every Capitol citizen knows this.
It’s the most useful piece of knowledge used when carving down an enemy. The people in the districts need to be taught fear, obedience for their devastating betrayal to the Capitol. If they thought they knew oppression before the First Rebellion . . . well, they just didn’t know how good they had it.
Things are back as they should be now. The Capitol stands at the top of the hierarchy, the districts fumbling below in their failure as they suffer their punishments and try to make amends in order to have the favor of those in charge.
Your family was lucky, surviving the war with minimal losses and maintaining your excessive wealth in the process. It’s a life of luxury for you - one of comfort and ease. You want for nothing, desire for nothing that you can’t have in a split second with a snap of your fingers or a hopeful, doe-eyed pout at your father.
Nothing, except one thing.
Him.
Coriolanus Snow.
He walks with such confidence, lean body moving gracefully and an air of arrogant smugness following him around as he vies for the Plinth Prize. He’s smart, very smart - top of the class at the Academy, and you can’t help but admit that you find his intelligence extremely attractive.
He’s beautiful, angelic blond curls always strategically fluffed, the perfect contrast to the Academy’s rouge uniforms. And sometimes, when he’s leaning down to scribble in his notebook during class, a few rogue curls will fall across his forehead and into those eyes - those eyes that sparkle despite his constant controlled and put together facade. You want those eyes on you. Want them to see you, follow you around as you walk the halls of the Academy, never leaving your visage as you sit prettily in class, back straight and legs crossed under your desk - your posture a solid reminder of your high stature within society.
You want them wet with tears, pupils blown wide as he stares up at you while you ride him, hard and fast as his mouth begs for mercy despite his pretty blue eyes begging for more.
You’re a prize, he’d be lucky to have you - and yet, whenever he looks your way, it’s with disdain.
You’re a fucking goddess, beauty unmatched. He should be falling at your feet just to get a second of your time. But no, instead he ignores you, never once looking your way other than when studiously listening to your response to a question asked during class before those blue eyes make their way back to the professor. They never linger, never once. And that realization makes your blood boil.
He’s smart, but you’re smart too - spite and bitterness reenergizing your academic drive. He wants the Plinth Prize and you want him. So you do the only thing that you can think of that will ensure his focus lands on you no matter what.
You go for the Plinth Prize too.
You’re on his ass in academics - every test and every project leading you closer and closer to over taking him for the win. His eyes can’t leave you now, always following you, narrowed and hateful as you smile smugly back at him. Sometimes you think you can see fear in them, like he can physically feel your sharp, manicured nails digging into the vulnerable balloon of his dreams and can hear the shallow hiss of escaping air through the punctures.
You hope he can feel your metaphorical breath on the back of his neck.
The mid semester review comes around and classes are canceled for the rest of the day as professors meet with their students to go over their academic standings. You walk into the building just minutes before your scheduled meeting time, bag slung over your shoulder and a dried fruit bar in your hand as you climb the stairs towards Professor Rosebloom’s office. Normally, you would be at least 15 minutes early, punctuality and proper time management drilled into you from a young age. However, Professor Rosebloom likes her schedules, the exact measurements of time, and plans out each class and meeting down to the minute. It’s useless to assume there’s any wiggle room for early arrivals or dismissals. It’s not beneficial - not when the door to her office won’t open again until the very moment it hits your scheduled appointment time. So you take your time climbing the stairs, taking a bite of your snack bar when you see him.
He’s leaning against one of the pillars in the middle of the hall, back pressed against the rounded edge as he bites into a cookie. He looks stressed, body rigid as he chews, the back of his hand coming up to wipe at his mouth after each bite. You smirk, eyes narrowed in glee as you stalk towards him like a predator sneaking up on her prey. His mind is elsewhere, completely unaware of you coming up next to him until his gaze falls to your shadow overtaking his own along the glossy floor.
He has only a second for his brain to register your presence before you speak, a smooth and sweet, “Coriolanus,” that nevertheless has him jumping in his spot against the pillar.
You watch as he fumbles the cookie in his hand, the half eaten treat falling to the ground, breaking into smaller pieces under the impact. His face is rather comical as he stares down at the ruined cookie, eyes wide and mouth agape, and you swear you see his hand twitch just the slightest bit as if he was going to pick it up off the dirty floor before he takes a deep breath and those piercing blue eyes cut to you.
“What?” He asks, voice sharp.
“Aw, sorry to make you drop your snack,” You say, feigning sympathy. “It looked yummy,”
His eyes fall shut for a moment, long eyelashes creating shadows along the top of his cheeks as he fights for composure. “It was,”
“You should have saved it for after your meeting,” You say, stepping closer to him, just far away enough to still be considered a proper amount of space, but close enough for him to have to tilt his head downwards to maintain eye contact. “As a condolence for when you hear that I’m the top student and a shoo-in for the Plinth Prize and not you.”
A low rumble bursts from his throat and he pushes off of the pillar to tower over you, glaring down at your shorter figure as he growls, “That’s not going to happen,”
His closeness makes your heart race, and you want nothing more than to drop the fruit bar from your hand and tangle your fingers into his fluffy hair. You’d do it too - would risk everything, the perfect image you’ve cultivated and the resulting embarrassment of seeming needy - if only you knew he would reciprocate. But he’s stubborn, you don’t know, and your pride gets in the way of any impulsive decision you might make, no matter how hot the desire burns through your veins.
Instead, you bring the snack bar up to your mouth, perfect white teeth sinking into the sticky bar as you keep your eyes locked on his. Your intense focus on him is the only reason you see how his eyes falter from yours, the furious fire in them dimming into a softer need as they fall to your mouth.
Your glossed lips pull into a smirk. Finally, finally, he’s getting the picture. You knew it was only a matter of time. He was a man after all, and men are weak when it comes to the wiles of women. It was bound to happen, no one with eyes or any sense of a brain would be able to resist you for too long - Coriolanus was just a slight exception.
But you’ve got him now, can see in his eyes how badly he wants you. His eyes are locked on your lips, following the movement as they press together and move as you chew. The bright light in the hall is probably glittering off of them right now, making them look even more plush and enticing as it glistens off the thin layer of gloss that coats them. He’s probably thinking about how much he wants to kiss them right now. Imagining them wrapped around his cock and how soft they would feel as you plant sweet and teasing kisses along his shaft before taking him completely into your warm mouth. He’s probably kicking himself, wondering how he could have been so stupid as to push you away for as long as he has when he could have had you all to himself this whole time.
All the time he’s wasted because of his pride and ego.
The hand holding the fruit bar lowers slightly, teasing words of victory on the tip of your tongue as you open your mouth to gloat about your obvious success and his pathetic loss as he succumbs to his own desire for you. But you freeze when his wanting gaze doesn’t stay on your lips like you expect. Instead, they fall with the snack bar, following the food source like a puppy waiting for its master to grace them with a treat, and your words die before they can make a sound.
The food? Seriously? He was looking at the food?!
As if on cue, his stomach growls. He snaps out of his daze at the sound, a hand shooting up to press against his belly as if trying to quiet the noise.
You stare at him incredulously, eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Hungry much?”
He scoffs. “I missed breakfast this morning and now you’ve made me drop my snack. So, yes. I’m hungry.”
His words come out confident - practiced and dismissive in the way they would lead someone to believe his verbal jab in a heartbeat. But you’re too close to him right now for it to have the same effect that it normally would. You’re too observant, too eagle-eyed when it comes to all things Coriolanus, and now you're kicking yourself for not noticing it sooner.
The way his eyes flash with a moment of panic before they roll in annoyance, feigned annoyance, because there’s still nervousness clear in those beautiful blue orbs. The way they can’t help but flick just for the quickest of seconds towards the bar still in your hand and your own snap down to the movement of his stomach as he sucks in his belly, an obvious attempt at trying to use the muscle movement to starve off another growl.
The buttons on his shirt aren’t completely round, you notice. They do a good job at pretending to be, but under further inspection you realize that some are more oval than round. A couple are even slightly jagged. They remind you of the tesserae tiles you’ve seen in the maid’s bathroom - nearly a perfect match. Your critical gaze follows the rest of the length of his body, looking for anything else that suddenly seems off about the only son of the great Crassus Snow. Years ago, your father had mentioned rumors that the Snow family might not be in the most opulent financial standing. You hadn’t believed him at the time, the Snow family had always seemed very well off whenever you would see them around the Capitol or at events. Coriolanus had never once let on that they were living in anything less than a life of luxury during all your shared time at the Academy.
And yet, when you reach his feet, it becomes an undeniable reality. There, on the feet of the boy who you’ve been lusting over for the better part of two years, is a pair of too tight and just this side of too worn shoes.
You’re just barely able to hold back your gasp at the realization. He’s always been thin, but you chalked that up to him just being tall and lanky. But this? This is so unexpected.
Coriolanus Snow is . . . impoverished? Penniless.
Needy.
The idea comes to mind before you can even think about it, eyes sliding back up to meet his as you take another slow and mocking bite of your fruit bar.
“What will you do?” You ask, tilting your head to the side in question, slowly chewing the sweet treat. “When I win the Plinth Prize,”
“You won’t,” He answers quickly, and the raw determination in his voice makes you grin.
You take another quick bite of your bar and offer a small shrug of your shoulder. “Why don’t we be smart about this, Coriolanus? Put aside our teeth gritting rivalry in exchange for some good old fashioned, friendly competition.”
“What are you suggesting?” He asks, suspiciously.
“You can come to my home this weekend. We can study together. Make it a fair fight for our next exam,” And then, casual as ever, you add, “I’ll make sure we have lots of snacks at our disposal. Fuel for our brains, yes?”
Coriolanus pauses, clearly torn, and it’s unbelievable how someone who's always put on the face of confidence and self-assuredness can have their mask slip so carelessly so many times within a few minutes of interaction.
The door to Professor Rosebloom’s office opens and out comes a disgruntled looking Festus Creed. He glances at you and Coriolanus standing just feet away from the door, but surprisingly has nothing to say for once as he walks past and down the hall towards the grand staircase. Professor Rosebloom stands at the door, calling your name and gesturing inside her office with a sharp nod.
You look back at Coriolanus, a sickeningly sweet smile on your face as you walk backwards towards Professor Rosebloom. “Tomorrow, okay? See you then!”
The feeling of his eyes boring into you as you turn and disappear into Rosebloom’s office makes you feel unstoppable.
Coriolanus arrives at your house the next day around mid-morning.
He greets your parents respectfully, sharing a firm handshake with your father and nodding kindly at your mother, thanking them for allowing him into their home for the day and politely ignoring the looks of displeasure they both send him behind their masks of well-mannered hosts.
You guide him up the stairs to your bedroom and sit yourself on the bed, smirking when he stands awkwardly in the doorway, one hand gripping the strap of his messenger bag.
It’s so interesting to see him out in public, without the guise of an event or school trip to dictate what he wears. Today he dons a regular pair of pants, nice fitting around the waist and legs, but just a little too short around the ankles. You’re not sure if you would have noticed it had you not been looking. His sweater is a deep burgundy, thin lines of golden embroidery stitched around the collar and wrists to give an otherwise simple garment a taste of class. You don’t even want to look down at his shoes. If his nice dress shoes were looking tight and worn, you don’t want to see what his casual shoes look like.
It doesn’t matter anyway, everything he’s wearing is going to be on your floor in a little while anyway.
“Sit down, Coriolanus,” You instruct, pulling a book from your own bag and laying it out on the bed in front of you. “Don’t be shy.”
He takes a quick look behind him, checking to make sure your parents aren’t trying to spy from the hallway to catch them in the act of anything inappropriate despite this being a genuine study ‘date’ - at least on his part anyway. They won’t. Your father will be leaving for a lunch meeting in the city soon, and your mother will use the time to meet with her lover in one of the barely used guest bedrooms while he’s away.
Coriolanus clears his throat before walking over to the bed, sitting tall on the edge, one of his legs bent at the knee to twist himself to face you while the other leg hangs off the side.
“We should start with the top three points that we think are the most important of each chapter,” he says. He pulls his book and a small notebook out of his bag before placing it on the ground next to the bed and out of the way. “And then we can discuss and expand on each point together.”
“Sounds good,” You nod. “Let’s begin.”
Studying has never been difficult for you. You find yourself blessed with a remarkable brain and an even more determined sense of spite that makes remembering factual information simple. Thoughts of Coriolanus often plague your mind during your study sessions. He is, after all, the reason why you study so hard in the first place. But when the thoughts get too much, thoughts of kissing those plush lips of his, whispering dirty things in his ear and having him moan filth back to you - wanting to thread your fingers into his golden hair and push his head down so it fits between your thighs where it belongs . . . A power break, you call it. A moment of respite from studying in order to take power over your overflowing desire for the only man who’s been able to resist your temptations so far. Your hand would find its way inside your pants or underneath your dress, fingers dipping into your drenched hole and rubbing furiously at your clit imagining it was his until the pent up release sets you free and you're able to focus on your work again.
But with him actually being here, here in front of you, it’s a bit more difficult. Your pen stopped writing a while ago, eyes locked on the way his lashes flutter against his cheeks with each blink as he focuses on his notes. He bites his lip sometimes, teeth pressing into the plump flesh before he seems to catch himself and releases it, leaving behind twin red marks in the skin that you wish were imprints of your teeth instead of his. Your eyes travel down further to his throat, wanting to taste the smooth skin there under your tongue, and you can feel how wet you are already in your panties.
After about an hour, a maid enters the room with a tray of snacks. She’s right on time, entering through your doorway at the exact moment you had instructed her to, but you're so worked up from Coriolanus just existing a couple feet away from you on your own bed, that you glare at her like you want to bite her head off.
She doesn’t waste time, even more so when she sees your expression. The maid deposits the tray of food on the bed between the two of you and places a bottle of wine with two glasses on your side table before hurrying out of the room.
Coriolanus looks up from his notebook the second the food is placed in front of him, eyes immediately locking onto the tray. It’s obvious how badly he wants to go for it, but he holds himself back.
“Looks yummy, right?” You say, slyly, nodding to the small assortment of bread, cheeses, jams, and fruit. “Great brain food,”
He nods, throwing in an indifferent shrug as he responds, “Yes, it’s—it’s fine.”
You grab the wine bottle from beside you, uncorking the bottle with practiced efforts. “I also asked for some tastier things too,” You say, gesturing to the wine and the small bowls of chocolate sauce and whipped cream also adorning the tray. “A little reward to us for all of our hard work this semester.”
It’s funny watching him just sit there, struggling to appear calm and collected in the presence of such delicious foods. What do poor people even eat anyway? Maybe nothing. Maybe he survives on water and the lunches the school provides. What a shame, he’s too pretty to suffer. But if he is going to suffer, you're excited that you at least get to reap the benefits.
You pour two hefty glasses of wine, handing one to Coriolanus and bringing the other one between you, signaling for a toast. “To study dates and good food.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up in an aborted smile, and, to be honest, you’re not sure if he means it or not, but nevertheless he clicks his glass against yours anyway. “To study dates and good food.”
You watch his face from behind your glass as he brings his own to his lips. His eyes flutter shut at the first taste of wine against his tongue, and you wonder how often, if ever, he’s had the experience before to make him make such a euphoric face. He licks his lips, catching the stray drops of wine on his upper lip before he clears his throat.
“It’s nice,” He comments, nonchalantly. “Sweeter than the wine I’m used to.”
“Oh, yeah?” You grin, swirling your wine gently in the glass. The wine aerates under your nose as you breathe in the sweeter notes of its smell. “The Snows prefer the taste of drier wines, huh?”
“Yes, we do,”
He cuts the conversation short, looking back down at the plate of food. He still has his pen in his hand, the other hand occupied by the glass of wine, so you take the opportunity to put the next step of your plan in motion.
“Keep writing,” You say, waving at his pen. You place your wine glass back on the side table and grab a small slice of bread from the tray. “You’re on a roll. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.”
He clears his throat again, pressing the pen to the paper, but he can’t write anything. His eyes are glued to where you're prepping his snack, spreading a thick layer of creamy cheese on the bread before topping it with a few swipes of spiced jam. You want to laugh at how his mouth practically waters for it, lips parted in want and his pupils are unusually large against the bright blue canvas of his irises.
“There we go,” You coo, holding up the savory treat between you both. “Open up, Coryo. The jam on top is to die for.”
You watch in glee as he opens his mouth, letting you bring the bread to his lips before he bites down on it. It’s quiet, too quiet, but the room is quiet too - so no matter how concealed he tries to hide his small moan of pleasure, you hear it anyway. And the sound shoots right to your dripping cunt.
You feed him another bite, and then another, and you’re a little shocked that he’s even letting you feed him at all without protest or a show of pride, but you don’t complain. There’s a small smudge of jam smeared at the corner of his mouth. His pretty blue orbs never leave yours as you slowly trace along the sticky corner with your thumb, gathering up the bits of jam and popping it in your mouth letting out a small moan of your own at the taste.
“So good,” You say again. He gulps, trying to hide his nervousness behind another long sip of wine. “You know what else is really good? This chocolate sauce,”
Your middle finger dips into the chocolate bowl, chocolate coating your finger as you pull it out, the excess dripping back into the bowl. You pop your finger into your mouth, humming at the rich taste as it soaks into your tastebuds. Coriolanus’s eyes follow your movements, still dark in want but also colored with confusion. Poor baby, you think. If you were a better person, you would feel guilty about manipulating him so badly.
But you’re not, and the bitch inside you roars in delight at how well you have him exactly where you want him.
“Hmm, so good,” You whisper, slowly dragging your now clean finger back and forth along your bottom lip. “It’s William Dean, the best chocolate connoisseur in all of Panem. His chocolates are the best luxury, I’m sure you know, but I always prefer the chocolate sauce to the chocolates themselves.”
Your finger finds its way back into the chocolate before hovering it in front of Coriolanus’s slightly parted lips. “Don’t you wanna try it?”
There’s hesitation on his face, eyes flickering with uncharacteristic uncertainty from yours to your dessert covered finger and back again as he thinks. In the end, the want wins out, and he opens his mouth more to let you slip your finger inside. The inside of his mouth is warm and wet, the strong muscle of his tongue licking along your finger as he sucks off every single bit of chocolate offered on it. His tongue vibrates under your finger as he moans, louder this time than the last, eyes fluttering shut at the taste. You wonder if it’s just from the taste of the chocolate or from the combined taste of your skin and spit too.
“Delicious, right?” You ask, slowly pulling your finger from between his plush lips.
When his eyes open again, his pupils are blown wide - only a thin band of blue around the edges - and you can’t help but smirk at yourself in their reflection.
He nods, as if dazed, letting out a low “mhm” in agreement.
“Here,” You grab a strawberry off the tray and coat it with the melty chocolate just like your finger. “Try it with this.”
He doesn’t even hesitate as you bring it up to his mouth, lips parting as his teeth bite into the red fruit. You almost can’t believe how blissed out he looks, just from a few bites of food. His chewing is slow, like it’s purposeful - dedicated to savoring every second as he enjoys what he never gets to have, eyes hazy with an almost far away look to them.
Poor Coriolanus Snow, how the mighty have fallen.
You quickly bite the other half, barely registering the sweetness of the fruit mixed with the richness of the chocolate before tossing the green leafy top back onto the tray. Instead, the visual of him licking the leftover chocolate left on his lips from the bite into the fruit sears into your brain.
“It’s probably the best you’ve ever tasted, huh?” The dig comes out without your permission, but it doesn’t matter because while normally his clever and quick mind would have had you scrambling for a response to whatever his snappy comeback would have been, he doesn’t seem to catch on to your implication.
He’s too drunk right now. Too drunk on the few sips of wine and small bites of food he’s had. Too drunk on savoring everything, desperate in the way his gaze drops back down to the small feast in front of him.
“Hey,” You call, bringing his attention back to your face. He looks like a puppy waiting for his next command. “Are you going to thank me for being such a gracious host?”
“Thank you,” He whispers.
“No, Coryo,” You say, a wicked grin pulling at your lips. “Thank me,”
Your previous dig might have gone over his head, but the unspoken demand doesn’t. Hazy blue meets your own hooded ones, a breathless moment between the two of you as your words sink in, and then he’s leaning forward - soft, pouty mouth pressing against yours gently.
Victory burns through your veins like fire. The urge to scream like a madwoman, the sound feeling stuck at the back of your throat, urging you to let it out just so you can relieve some of this overwhelming excitement that runs through you. But no, you have to be calm about this. Strategic. Don’t fuck this up, you remind yourself. Don’t scare him off.
But your hands itch to bury themselves in his hair, wanting to grip the golden strands between your fingers and tug hard enough to make him whine against your mouth. His lips feel like heaven against yours, the soft press of his bottom lip fitting between yours before he pulls back, breathing into your space for a moment, before coming back in for another kiss without you even having to tell him.
His lips move against yours with an intoxicating combination of shyness and want. He’s still gentle, way too gentle for your liking - you didn’t wait to have him for this long for him to be soft about it. You want the roughness, the passion, the desperation where he wants you so much that he can’t bear to not have his hands on you for even a second. But there’s also power in the shyness, in the nervousness that you have erupting from every pore of his body.
When he pulls back again, you don’t hesitate to move your lips to his cheek, kissing across the cool, smooth skin. His hand has long since dropped the pen by now, now choosing to fist into the lush fabric of your very expensive sheets while the other somehow still holds onto his half filled wine glass. His breathing is starting to get shaky - unsteady shallow breaths puffing out next to your ear as your lips trace the line of his jaw.
Without even having to look, you grab another strawberry, dipping it into the chocolate and bringing it to where your mouth is pressing hot, open mouth kisses to Coriolanus’s jaw.
He jumps at the first touch of the tip of the fruit against his neck, a confused grunt escaping his lips as he mutters a quiet, “What are you doing?” But he doesn’t move away, doesn’t pull back from the way your lips nibble at the sensitive spot behind his ear.
You drag the fruit down the long column of his neck, leaving a line of tempting chocolate in its wake as you whisper a soothing, “Just relax, Coryo. I’m eating,”
Your tongue finds the bottom of the trail, pressing flat and wet against his neck as you lick away the chocolate in one long seductive lick. You're quick to repeat the process, dragging the fruit down the column of his throat, a delicious line of sweetness you can devour while tasting the distinct flavor of him underneath it. His head tips back to allow you access to the trail of chocolate on his throat, and you reward his cooperation by holding the fruit above his upturned face so he can sink his teeth into it while you sink your teeth into him.
His throat bobs underneath your lips when he swallows.
The whipped cream still sits untouched in the bowl, and your neck still stays untouched with Coriolanus’s kisses. So you grab his chin, dragging his face back down to yours once again.
“You hungry, baby?” You ask, your eyes locked on his. “You wanna eat, too?”
“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding frantically against your grip. “I’m starving.”
Whipped cream sticks thickly to the spoon as you pull it out of the small bowl. The white substance sticks to your skin as you drag it down along your neck, your body heat melting some of it directly upon contact and small streaks of white drip down to your collarbone. The spoon isn’t even moved away yet when he leans forward, pink tongue laving eagerly against your skin as he licks up the cream.
His tongue is so soft, wet and hot against your neck, warm breath fanning across the wet skin as his tongue follows the scattered drippings down lower. You're quick to add more whipped cream to your body, smearing it lower across your chest and over the swell of your breast peeking out from the top of your dress. The feel of his mouth on your breast makes your jaw drop, breathy sighs falling from your lips as you watch him lick the cream off your chest. His pink lips look beautiful on the round swell, thick lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as he latches onto the top to suck gently, still trying to get every last taste of cream onto his greedy tastebuds.
Gripping his chin again, you pull him back up to your face, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. He groans when your tongue pushes through into his mouth, sliding against his as you suck the taste of the whipped cream off his tongue. His hands come up to hold your face, one hand cradling your cheek while the other hand, still holding the glass of wine, reaches up to touch your jaw and helps to tilt your face up to his.
Your fingers grab the thin straps of your dress, pulling them down over your shoulders and freeing your breasts from the cups. You hate to drag your lips from his, teeth digging into his plump bottom lip and pulling as you pull back, grinning at the groan it rips from him in return. You grab the glass from his hand, arching your back slightly to puff out your chest more as you spill a little of the wine over it. Coriolanus groans at the sight of the red drink running down your chest, cascading over your breasts and dripping down further to soak into the material of your dress.
“F-fuck,” he whimpers, and immediately takes the hint, large hands gripping your waist to hold you still.
His pink tongue draws along your chest, cleaning the spillage from your skin as he nibbles along your breast. His plush lips wrap around your nipple, tonguing the hard bud with the tip of his tongue before sucking gently.
“Good boy,” You coo. You’re trying for a taunting tone, but the words come out more gritted than you would have liked as you feel your panties completely soak through. “Clean it all up for me,”
His pretty eyes look up at you as he sucks, dark with desire as he stares up at you through his lashes. He pops off your nipple with a wet sound, tongue dragging across the swell of your breast as he makes his way to the other one. When he’s done, your chest and tits are wet with his saliva instead of the sticky wine, and you shiver when his warm breath fans over the damp skin.
You lean back against the bed, holding the wine glass straight up as you lie down flat. His hands stay on your waist, seemingly unable to loosen their grip on your sides as he follows you down. He leans over over you, watching with wide eyes as you hike the bottom of your dress up so that it bunches up below your bust and out of the way. Your beautiful body is now on full display for him - soft, smooth, and well fed as his gaze feasts on the bounty now in front of him. His eyes lock onto your white lace panties, now practically translucent with how wet they are, but you steal his attention back with a quick call of his name.
With his eyes now back on yours, you tilt the glass over you, pouring the wine into the divet of your belly button and letting it pool there. Some of the liquid spills over, tickling your skin as it runs out along your belly and sides. Immediately, his head is at your belly, catching some straying droplets before they can soak into your sheets before his lips suction over your belly button, licking into it and sucking out the sweet drink from its makeshift cup.
Your fingers thread into his soft hair, locking into his fluffy curls, and when there’s no more wine to drink on your body, you push his head down further. His breathing is quick and excited as he allows you to push him down to your core, little pants of hot air hitting the drenched fabric of your panties as he peers up at you.
“Please,” He breathes, and you can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips from the sight of him between your thighs.
“Go ahead and eat your meal, Coryo,” You say, leaning up on your elbow to watch him better. Your other hand casually keeps the still occupied wine glass upright and out of danger. “If you’re good, I’ll let you eat plenty more.”
He’s a good boy, you always knew he would be. Despite his air of confidence and ego he tries to emit daily at the Academy, you’re good at seeing through people’s disguises. Coriolanus is soft - a lost boy trying to find a place among the vicious sharks of Capitol people.
Ready to follow your every command in hopes you deem him worthy enough to throw scraps to.
He licks over the lacy material of your panties, and you can’t help the deep shiver that wracks through your body at the tease. His nose presses against the lace, the tip brushing over where your clit sits beneath it before he hooks a finger under the material and pulls it to the side.
His tongue feels like silk against your drenched folds, the wet muscle flattening against your slit as it slides up the length of your pussy. His hands grip your thighs, using the leverage on them to keep you still as he circles your puffy clit. You briefly consider telling him to put his hands behind his back, just to add to the image of him serving you - being your ‘good boy’ - but the vision of him between your thighs, face finally pressed against your cunt where it always belonged, has you momentarily thrown for a loop.
He looks so pretty down there, blond curls messy where you had your hand in them. You’ve waited so long for this moment. Dreamed about how good he would look between your legs, disheveled and wanting as he begged you to let him eat you out. Begs you to grace him with the privilege of fucking you. And now here it is. The moment you’ve worked so hard for.
And the payoff is gorgeous.
His eyes are half hooded in pleasure, mouth licking and sucking greedily at your juices, moaning into your pussy like he was retasting the wine for the first time again. His moan vibrates through your entire body from where his lips are wrapped around your clit, more wetness leaking out of your soaking hole at the pathetic sound.
You wonder what you taste like to him. Probably like honey.
The sweetest kind he’s ever tasted.
“Do I taste good?” You ask, breathlessly. Coriolanus ignores you, seeming to not even hear you as he shakes his face against your puffy pussy, too intoxicated on your scent and taste for your words to penetrate through the fog clouding his mind. You grin, speaking louder to catch his attention. “Snow, eyes on me,”
Immediately, those baby blue eyes are focused on you and your breath catches in your throat in excitement. That’s right, gorgeous. Keep your eyes on me.
“I asked if I taste good,” You repeat.
Coriolanus nods, mouth never letting up on the suction around your clit as he hums out a little “mhm”. You squirm a bit, switching arms so your weight is being kept up by the elbow of the arm cradling the wine glass while your now free hand reaches out to nudge at his head to urge him down further.
“Put your tongue in,” You demand, fingers gripping his curls again as you shove him down. “Fuck me with your tongue.”
His eyes flutter as he follows your instructions, ever the diligent student, and your mouth falls open at the feel of the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance before it pushes inside, spearing you open around the thick, wet muscle.
“Yes,” You moan, fingers leaving his curls to rub frantic circles around your pulsing clit. “Fuck me faster, Coryo,”
His fingers dig into the plush skin of your thighs, fingertips sure to leave bruises as he desperately pulls you closer, tongue digging as deep as it can into your depths as you clench around it. The coil in your belly tightens, pleasure ripping through you as you bite back the loud cry wanting to burst from your throat as the coil snaps and you cum on Coriolanus’s face, squeezing tightly around his tongue.
You huff for breath, fingers still greedily rubbing at the sensitive nub trying to soak up every last shock of bliss from your orgasm, even as Coriolanus pulls his tongue from your insides, panting. His face is drenched in your juices - debauched and dirty because of you, and the sight alone makes you want to lock your fingers in his golden hair again and pull him back in for round two.
You sit up, listening to the desire to dig your hand into his hair, but instead of dragging him down again, you drag him up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before licking up the side of his face, tasting yourself on his skin as you clean him up. He’s still breathing hard when you get to his lips again, and your eyes meet his as you press small teasing kisses to his frowning lips.
He’s confused, you can see it in his eyes. Can see the gears in his brain trying to make sense of what just happened and how he’s ended up in the position that he’s in. He’s thinking too much. Coriolanus Snow - always thinking himself stupid. And you're clearly not doing your job right if he’s still able to think after a session with you.
“Hey,” You murmur against his lips. Your hand frees his hair, trailing down his chest and stomach before gently cupping the prominent bulge in his pants. A shocked puff of breath exhales harshly against your lips. “Just go with it.”
“Are you trying to distract me?” He asks, lips brushing against yours with each word. “Keep me from studying so you can with the prize money for yourself?”
“Oh, honey,” You giggle. “We studied plenty today, didn’t we? And besides,” Nimble fingers slide up the smooth line of Coriolanus’s throat, curling around his jaw as you kneel up, angling his face up towards you as you gaze down at him. “You won’t forget a single thing you learned today after I’ve finished with you.”
Your fingers dig into his jaw as you press another head spinning kiss to his lips, completely obsessed with the way they mold against yours, soft and yielding against your demanding mouth. When you pull back, it’s with a wild heat in your eyes that you can see reflected in his own.
“Lie back,”
You watch in muted glee as he does, lying back flat against the sheets even as he scoots back further towards the center of the bed. Your legs move with him, following him back as you crawl over his sprawled out body, taking a small sip of wine as you settle on his hips. His cock pulses in its confines against you, pressed tightly against your soaked panties as you slowly rock your hips along the thick bulge. Pretty moans threaten to escape his lips, only muffled by sheer willpower to not open his mouth to let the sounds out to their fullest potential. His golden curls are unkempt, fanned out against your silk sheets like a halo, and you can’t help but think he looks like an angel like this.
An angel you can’t wait to ruin.
“Hold this for me, won’t you?” You say, pressing the wine glass into his hand. He grabs it as if on autopilot, holding it up prettily with the stem between his middle and ring finger, like a proper gentleman.
Impatient hands paw at his burgundy sweater, bunching the material up as far up as you can get it to reveal his long, skinny torso. Immediately, your mouth is on his skin, lips brushing lightly over his side, soft enough to tickle as they brush over the all too prominent ribs. You look up at Coriolanus, meeting his baby blues as he watches you kiss each individual bump along his side. His eyebrows are furrowed, lips parted as if wanting to say something, and you can only imagine the nonsense that could come out. He has to know that you know something’s up - normal, well-fed young adults don’t clearly have emaciated bodies like this. You have to admit, he’s done an admirable job at keeping the Snow family misfortune under the radar, but you’re not about to let his pride and ego get in the way of you and your prize.
“It’s learning by association, right?” You say, cutting him off before he can form his excuse. You lick a long stripe across his belly, his very flat belly - warm breath fanning across the wet path as you pull back to speak again. “We’re in the classroom, right? And you’re stumped on a question. So you’ll look over the balcony and down one row to the left, where I sit, and see me sitting there all pretty and hard at work,”
Coriolanus lets out a shuttering sigh when you scoot further down his body, pressing another gentle kiss just to the right of his belly button. “You’ll stare at my glossed up lips, all shiny and tempting in the light, imagining them pressed against yours,” Another kiss to the opposite side. “And you’ll remember the date the Treaty of Treason was signed into effect.”
“F-fuck,” Coriolanus whines as you hold his hips, using your grip to keep him steady as you trail your kisses lower and lower towards the waistband of his pants. His cheeks are so flushed, red flaming at the pale skin even as he drags his hand over his face. He’s trying to hide - how adorable.
“You’ll remember the various ecological disasters that brought about the creation of Panem everytime you think about my tits,” You continue, nibbling along his jutting hip bone. You draw a playful heart on his skin with the tip of your tongue. “About how soft and perfect they are,”
Your eyes drop down to the bulge straining in his pants, the dark material only made darker by the wet spot on them made from your own juices.
“The five major economic benefits to a split District-Capitol government will pop into your mind whenever you think about how I tasted on your tongue,” Coriolanus moans desperately when you lick across his clothed erection, hips jerking despite your hold.
Excitement fills your chest as you work the front of his pants open, quick fingers easing the zipper down over the thick bulge and working his gorgeous, gorgeous, oh so gorgeous cock free from its prison. You’ve waited a long time for this moment, and your greedy eyes don’t let it go to waste.
His cock is every bit as magnificent as you knew it would be. It stands tall and hard, thick with the head already coated with precum as it springs out and slaps against his belly. He’s going to fill you up so good, fill you up until you’re so full you think you might just burst from it. You want it. You want it so badly that you almost hate that you’re going to make yourself wait for it.
His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, body just barely trembling enough with nerves that you're able to see it through your own distraction. Your fingers sneak their way towards him, loving the way both Coriolanus and his cock twitch at the feel of your fingers wrapping around the heated length.
“And when you need to remember which US states combined to make up the districts,” You breath, head lowering down, your breath fanning across his weeping tip. “Just think of my mouth sucking on your pretty cock.”
The sound he makes when your lips wrap around the head of his cock makes you want to laugh. It’s pathetic, a high-pitched gasp that rips from his throat as his back arches against the bed. But the taste of his precum coating your taste buds as you suckle on the reddened tip has you distracted. He tastes so good, so much better than you think is fair. He already invades your thoughts and dreams with his too pretty face and better-than-you attitude - he doesn't need to taste as good as he does on top of everything now that you’ve finally got him.
There’s a moment when you consider reaching over to grab a spoonful of the whipped cream still sitting on the now forgotten tray. The food isn’t for you, it’s a means to an end - but there’s a part of you that can’t help but want to see what it looks like smeared against Coriolanus’s cock. You can picture it in your mind already, the flushed tip just barely hidden under the dollop of cream, the heated skin melting the topping just enough for it to start dripping down the sides of his cock before you can lick it all up.
You don’t do it, not willing to part with the much tastier treat you’ve won. Your mouth stays happily in its place as you work your way further down his length, humming as his cock slides across your tongue and brushes the back of your throat. The sounds trying to erupt from him make you suck harder, sucking in your cheeks as you bob your head, tongue laving across the underside of his cock with each up and down motion, greedy to get its fill. His hand clasps over his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to muffle his moans of pleasure. A pang of irritation zips through you at the thought that even as he’s giving into you - giving you what you’ve always wanted - he’s still being a stubborn asshole and keeping you from fully enjoying your success.
Those sounds are yours. They belong to you. You deserve to hear each and every adorably pathetic whine and gasp that creeps its way up his throat.
You’ve earned them.
He’s trying, he really is, but even his palm can’t keep his tortured groan quiet when you press down just a little too deep, nose aiming for that soft patch of golden curls at the base of his cock but not quite making it there as your throat spasms around him - choking and gagging around the thick length as you use it to bully your own airway.
Thick strands of saliva connect your mouth to his cock even as you pull off. Your hand strokes to make up for your missing mouth as you lean up, only pausing to press a couple of teasing kisses to the underside of the swollen head as you go.
“Open your eyes,” You demand, waiting for him to comply before slowly teasing the tip of your tongue along the slit on the top, just to watch his eyelashes flutter as his pretty eyes roll back. The sight makes you grin, the smug pull of your lips present even as you sit up, hips straddling his thighs as you perch yourself up.
Your nipples are so hard, pebbled and begging for his attention. You wish he could read your mind right now, so he would know to reach out and grab at them - squeeze your breasts in his large hands, message them and play with the tightened buds between his clever fingers. You wish he would pull on them, twist them enough to make you gasp and arch your back, and you’d reward him with tightening your grip on his cock, wrist twisting your palm around his tip in mimic of his own action.
He doesn’t, of course, hand still clamped over his mouth like it is. Still muffling those pretty, clit-throbbing sounds that belong to you.
Your right hand slides around his cock, using the copious amounts of saliva you left behind as a lube, spreading the wetness around his pulsing length and getting it nice and slick. His wet cock glistens in the overhead light of your bedroom, and, honestly - you never thought a cock could look so beautiful. Your other hand reaches out to grab Coriolanus’s wrist, yanking his hand away from his mouth so you can hear his sounds, undisturbed, as you jerk him off.
“Stop that,” You hiss when he tries to pull his wrist from your grip. “Don’t hide them. Wanna hear you. Wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“Ah-hmm,” he moans, wrist ripping from your grip. But he listens, and rather than going back to cover his mouth, his fingers twist into the silk sheets instead, bunching them up in his fist as he watches you with wild eyes.
“Yeah, there we go,” You coo, fist stroking over his hot flesh as you work him faster. There’s a pearl of precum beading up on the tip of his cock, more pushing out the tighter you squeeze each time your fist gets to the top. Wet, slick sounds fill the room in time with your strokes, his pleasured moans cutting through the wet noises like a lewd symphony. “So much better, right?”
His thighs shake underneath you, hips stuttering and trying to buck up into your hold but the prison of your body weight on his thighs keep them pinned down. His moans turn into helpless blabbering - a endless string of ‘oh fuck, y/n, please, fuck, fuck–’.
The sound of him moaning your name sends a new gush of wetness into your already soaked panties. Your neglected clit aches for you to rub it, to grind the swollen nub on his thigh for relief - you think another wet spot on the dark trousers would look perfect.
You double down on your stroking instead, your other hand curling around his hip to keep it pressed against the mattress as your hand speeds up on his cock. Every time the wetness making him slick starts to dry up, you add more, leaning down just a bit to let another long line of saliva fall from your wet lips and onto the red flushed tip of his cock.
He’s so loud. The visual of you spitting on his cock is just way too much for his poor, inexperienced self to handle. The sounds coming out of his mouth are pure filth - hot and stomach clenching as you grin in satisfaction. It makes sense, you think. He’s loud and confident at the Academy, boisterous in his achievements as he speaks with a fake humility. It makes sense that he would be loud in the bedroom, unable to keep his voice down as he moans and whines like a slut.
“So loud, baby,” You tease. The hand gripping his hip finds the forgotten food tray, two fingers dipping into the almost empty chocolate sauce bowl. “You’re distracting me. Shh,”
Your fingers press into his open mouth, his lips automatically closing around your digits with a whimper. He sucks the chocolate off of your fingers like a good boy, eyes wide and wet making him look like he’s on the verge of tears. You want it. Want that push that’s going to make those pretty eyes spill out waterfalls over his flaming cheeks.
Just a little more.
Your hand moves faster on his cock, fist focusing cruelty on the top half of his shaft, palm twisting over the sensitive head with each stroke. The fingers in his mouth push back further and he gags, body jolting from the gag even as he moans around them again. The remaining wine in the glass sloshes from his jolt, but the crystal stays clasped between his fingers.
And there they are: twin trails running from his red rimmed eyes. You coo at him while the overwhelmed tears become victims to gravity. Instead of trailing down his cheeks like in the image in your head, one trails across his temple and soaks into his hairline while the other pools up along the side of his nose - and your empty, aching hole clenches tightly around nothing at the sight.
His cock throbs in your hand, hot and heavy as it twitches in the tight cage of your fingers, pretty red tip coated in a mixture of precum and spit disappearing and reappearing with each quick stroke of your fist. Fuck, you want it inside you so badly, want to feel him stretching you out. You’d make him cum within two seconds of being inside you, your pussy is just that magical. So warm and tight and perfect that men just can’t control themselves when they get inside of you - or so you’ve experienced with the other Academy boys who you’ve deemed worthy enough (although just barely) to have their moment with you. Poor pretty boy Coriolanus wouldn’t stand a chance. Frankly you’re shocked he’s even lasted as long as he has. You thought he might shoot his load in his pants while eating you out, although you’re glad he didn’t or this current playtime would have been unfortunately halted.
He’s so close, just a hair away from falling apart in front of your eyes. And you’re so hungry - so hungry for him.
The whines are muffled around your invading fingers, but they’re a constant now, no time wasted between them as he babbles around your fingers. The words come out garbled, but they sound a lot like ‘I’m gonna cum, please, please, fuck’. So you giggle, light and airy as you breathe, “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me,”
You don’t want to stop touching him. It’s addicting, making him moan and cry for you with just a few practiced strokes from your hand. You’d never stop if it was up to you. But your hand stops stroking his cock the second his eyes roll back into his head, just keeping a firm grip on the base to keep it still even as his body shakes. His cock twitches for a second, reddened head glistening before the first spurts of his release shoot out of the tip. They travel far, dirtying his stomach and splattering the smooth pale skin with white, some even making it as high up as his ribs, just barely missing the burgundy of his sweater. He cries around your fingers and you're sure the lack of stimulation is absolutely killing him. But he made you wait. He made you stress and work hard and put in effort just to get him. He needs to be punished for his crimes against your ego and libido.
He’s so pretty though, so so fucking gorgeous it makes you sick, and your willpower has just about been all used up. You stroke up his twitching length again, working him through the tail end of his orgasm, fist tightening and twisting at the top to milk out any lingering cum from the swollen tip. He’s still whimpering when you pull your fingers from his mouth, those same wet fingers moving to steal the glass from his hand, your eyes locking onto his as you finish the rest of the sweet drink in one last long victorious gulp.
Both of his hands find their way to you as his orgasm comes to an end, clutching at your thighs as the pleasure subsides but your movements don’t. He tries to push your hand away with a tortured groan, the stimulation becoming too much too quickly, but you easily slap it away. He’s weak, poor pathetic baby is too weak to make you stop - bones like jelly and brain still malfunctioning, no doubt. So you take advantage of all he’s worth even as you remove the circle of your fingers from around his cock and switch to palming the oversensitive flesh where it sits against his stomach.
“Ha- fuck, y/n, s-stop p-please,”
Your hand finally leaves his cock, choosing instead to wrap gently around his throat. Stop, he says? No. There’s no stopping now that you finally have him.
“You want me to back off the Plinth Prize, Coryo?” You rasp. “You’re gonna have to earn it,”
#𝑇𝑎𝑙 𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠 ✎#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus smut#coriolanus x reader smut#coriolanus x reader#tw: dubcon#tw: dubious consent
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— ✧ exes and oh's
pairing. choi seungcheol x reader
description. when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but then again, life has a funny way of making you choose.
tags. smut (18+), UNEDITED (i wrote this mostly when i was half asleep, there will be missing words), angst, oral (f receiving), petnames, past toxic relationships/ friendships, referenced cheating, alcohol consumption (+ mentions of vomiting + poor decisions abt alcohol in general), rebuilding relationships, trust issues, joshua is extremely protective it's honestly a little annoying, a disgusting amount of internal monologue i am So sorry, theres a lot in this one so if i missed anything lmk
fic playlist.
w/c. 15.8k+
a/n. 1K SPECIAL SORRY IT'S A LITTLE LATE...anyways i really tried to make sure this wasn't super corny but i prob got carried away i can't even tell anymore. update. this is cringe as hell
Your day today is slow, like every other. You aren’t sure why you expect anything different—well maybe you do know. It’s the optimist in you, a small voice in your head says, as you drop down your bookbag next to Joshua’s chair, the two of you slipping into your seats. Optimism my ass, you shoot back at yourself.
“Can you cover my shift?” Joshua asks, turning to you on his chair. You two have just finished your econ lecture and are sitting in the library to catch up on notes.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you give him a wary look. “Joshua,” you whine, pulling out your notebook and pen down.
“C’mon you said you needed some extra cash, and I need the night off anyways. I’ll get you back with something,” he promises as you narrow your eyes.
“Now what do you have that makes you need the night off?”
“Well there’s this party—” he pauses when you huff.
“And what’s to say I wouldn’t like to go to this party?” you retort, slightly annoyed that he expects you to cover his shift over something like this.
Joshua signs, running a hand through his hair. “Well I can say that I don’t think you would be especially keen on going,” he tells you honestly, and then when you catch the look in his eyes you falter.
You think about probing further, but second guess yourself—you probably shouldn’t. It isn’t good for your heart. You are trying to work on putting yourself, your heart, first, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. “Why do you say that?” you ask, and Joshua gives you that look.
He knows where this is going, and he’s slightly disappointed in you for going against your personal goal of not bringing it up. Then again, he doesn’t control you, and while he can try to guide you down the path of reparations and healing, he can’t force you anywhere.
“Cheol’s birthday is tomorrow,” he tells you like you don’t know. Like you don’t still have it marked down in bright blue sharpie on your calendar. It’s only been six months since you’ve last talked to him, and you don’t feel the need to buy a whole new calendar for the sake of getting rid of his and Yejin’s name.
That, and you don’t think taking his name off would help you forget anyways. Ten years, you think to yourself, ten years shouldn’t be disposed of as easily as a calendar, although it seems Yejin and Cheol had no problem doing just that.
Joshua catches you zoning out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No it’s okay,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “It’s not like I didn’t know, I don’t know why I asked.” Joshua looks at you sadly.
“The party…it’s going to be a big one, since Soonyoung is throwing it. You can come if you really want, you probably won’t run into Seungcheol anyways,” Joshua offers.
You scrunch up your face, shaking your head. “And Yejin? Either way, I don’t want to even think about how it would look if I showed up to a party for his birthday.”
Joshua gives you a wear look. “You don’t know?”
“Huh? Know what?”
“Cheol and Yejin broke up a while ago.”
“Oh.” You blink once, then twice, staring down at your shoes before inhaling sharply.
“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
You shrug, responding, “Whatever. Don’t apologize. I don’t have any business with either of them anyways.”
“Okay but—”
“Seriously Josh,” you mutter, turning to him so he can see the pleading look on your face. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah? I’ll cover your shift.” Joshua gives you a tentative look, opening his mouth before you stop him. “Seriously,” you repeat, “It’s fine.”
And the truth is, you are fine. Sure it hurts when you think about them too much, and even if they are broken up, it doesn’t really make you feel much better, but you are okay. Your days are often dull, yes, but you aren’t unhappy. You’re content, and being in your final year of university, you figure that being content is all you need.
Excitement and love are not quite at the forefront of your mind, and while it does cause a nasty knot to build up in your throat when you think about Cheol and Yejin and all the fun times you have spent with them, you quietly tell yourself that things just played out the way they were supposed to.
You tell yourself that if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to work out. That your life had plans, and that those plans didn’t include them.
As you walk home, you scoff to yourself, thinking about how Cheol and Yejin were willing to give up ten years of friendship with you—with each other—for something that didn’t even last half a year.
Of course it’s painful, but at the end of the day, you’re okay with that.
“You’re pathetic,” Yejin spits out, and you feel yourself growing dizzy. Her animosity that’s more apparent than ever is all you can think about it, and it has your jaw going slack. “How could you—” her face contorts into something so full of hate that you brace yourself for her next words, “How could you do this to me?”
You still, blinking as you let the words sink in. You want to argue, to fight back, to defend yourself, but the words fall flat on your tongue. You want to scream, I didn’t do anything to you, want to tell her that your feelings aren’t there to hurt her, but you can’t. “Yejin—”
“It doesn’t even matter now,” she cuts you off, sucking in a sharp breath, her face that was momentarily scrunched up into anger is now relaxing, looking back at the door where music booms from the party.
“Are you just going to leave?” you manage to ask, steading your breaths as best as you can. Yejin looks at you and from the way she’s slightly taller than you, you nearly cower back in anticipation for her next words.
Yejin always did tend to have a bit of a mean streak, but only towards those she felt had wronged her—never to you. Always had a snarky comment to throw, but never in your direction. Always ready to be on the offense if she felt she needed to, and for the first time in your ten years of friendship, you know what it’s like to be on the receiving end.
Yejin never answers your question. “Cheol likes me,” she tells you as if it isn’t obvious. As if you haven’t mulled over that fact for the past month, the tell-tale lips of Joshua spilling you Seungcheol’s secrets many nights before. “He doesn’t like you.” Yejin pauses. “Because you’re boring.”
Your world stills. Everything was spinning in a hazy maze a moment ago but now it all has paused and her words are hitting you in slow motion. “What?” you try to ask but your voice comes out hardly above a whisper.
Yejin scoffs, and you know in this moment that that is the meanest thing she could have done. “You’re boring,” she repeats, “and that’s why—” she takes a deep breath, “—even if he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t like you, so I’m telling you now to give up.”
You gulp, and the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop. “I was never going to make a move on him,” you retort, finally finding the words stuck in your throat, and while you gain confidence for a moment, it withers away when you catch the amused look on Yejin’s face. “I can’t believe you would think I’d go for him if you liked him.”
“That’s your problem!” Yejin exclaims exasperatedly. “You were going to do nothing even if none of us found out,” she spits out, and you feel your knees growing wobbly again as Yejin continues. “You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”
She turns on her heel, and you call out to her one last time. “Are you—”
“Get Joshua to drive you home,” is the last thing she ever says to you.
Taking Joshua’s shift is boring. Not that you expect anything different—getting you excited for work is not one of your optimism’s capabilities. Evenings at the coffee shop are busier than one would expect, but after considering the fact that it’s the only one open past seven p.m. on campus, the crowd begins to make sense.
You spend your time making drinks for the many students who are—much like yourself—simply trying to get through the night, but you would be lying if you say you don’t notice that the turn out is a little…smaller. After all, it is a Friday evening and Soonyoung’s parties are infamous on campus for being…well for being thrown by Soonyoung.
He’ll invite anyone and everyone, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your instagram feed will be filled with nothing but pictures from Cheol’s party tonight. Not that you care. You don’t want to go, you have no reason to.
Still, you wonder: would Yejin show up? If they did break up, like Joshua told you, what were the circumstances? Are they still friends? What happened? Why did they—
No.You shouldn’t do this to yourself, you can’t. Yejin isn’t your friend anymore, and neither is Cheol. What happened between them shouldn’t be your business—it isn’t. Leave it alone, you tell yourself, tapping your foot on the ground.
Yet, every time you look over the empty seats that fill the cafe, you’re reminded of just why not many people are here tonight. Seungcheol. Chewing on your bottom lip, you go against your better judgment and pull out your phone, immediately tapping on instagram.
Your stories are filled with a plethora of videos and pictures from the house that Cheol shares with Jeonghan and some other friends. It’s dark both inside and out, the only thing illuminating the house being led lights and pool lights in the backyard.Fondly, you remember last summer and Cheol’s birthday, which was spent at his house with you. Yejin, and some other friends in his pool from morning ‘til night. Fun times, you think, and you quietly wonder if Cheol will remember those memories today, or if he will leave them in his dust.
Tapping through the stories, you purse your lips together, inhale sharply, and begin to make yourself a drink. It’s too late in the evening for you to be thinking about this.
Seungcheol’s head is pounding. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and then there’s the music that has its vibrations going straight to his heart as he stumbles over his own words.
Lights everywhere flashing different colors and he isn’t sure when one cup turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into fuck-knows-how-many until Jeonghan is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him into an empty room, calling Joshua over.
Again, Seungcheol’s head is pounding. And he fucking loves it.
Joshua and Jeonghan, on the other hand, are frustrated. Cheol is trying to push through them, clawing for the door as his legs hit each other in a mangled mess until he’s falling onto them as they hold him back.
“You guys can’t fucking do this,” he whines, throwing his head back as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“When you said you were going to go crazy tonight,” Joshua mutters, “I didn’t realize you meant literally. Are fucking insane?” he hisses.
Cheol gives him an angry look, seeming to sober up for a moment as he straightens his back. “It’s my birthday, giving me a fucking break.”
“If you keep acting like this it’s going to be your death day soon too,” Jeonghan warns, earning him a glare.
“Seriously, do you want alcohol poisoning or something?” Joshua agrees. “Don’t drink anything else for the night, I’m serious.”
“And if I do?” Seungcheol challenges.
“We’ll tell Soonyoung to call it all off. You know he’ll do it if we ask,” Jeonghan states simply.
Cheol scoffs, but doesn’t reply, exercising his last bit of common sense to understand what Jeonghan and Joshua say, they mean. He needs to tread lightly.
Not that he cares much. He hasn’t got much to lose—Cheol only suggested this party because he knew that if it was anything short of big, he’d be reminded of the missing holes in his life right now.
His plan was unsuccessful, clearly, because even with cups after cups of spike punch, he’s still mulling over the fact there’s over a hundred people in this house and not a single one of them is you. Cheol had asked Joshua to bring it up with you—asked him to lead you in the right direction. The right direction being him.
He wasn’t really sure what his expectations were when he suggested it, but now it’s clear that Cheol really was expecting you to show up. He didn’t prepare for any other outcome, especially not one like this, where he’s wasted before the clock even strikes twelve. He’s on the verge of passing out when Joshua leaves the room, only Jeonghan and Cheol in each other’s presence as the former makes sure his elder doesn’t collapse.
Seungcheol’s head is pounding and he thinks it feels fucking great.
Fuck, he really needs to throw up.
You’re back at the cafe two days later, once again spending your evening serving students. It’s a bit of a lighter day, so only you and Jeongyeon are working, catching up and making light conversation through the day.
“Tired?” you ask her, when you catch her leaning against the counter with a wince.
She nods, turning up to look at you. “Chemistry is killing me. I want to cry just thinking about my next exam,” whe groans, throwing her head back. “I think humans have evolved too much. There’s no reason we should have explore this much about like, fucking atoms. Why can’t we just be happy creatures—ignorance is bliss, after all.”
You laugh out loud, not bothering to look at the door when you hear the bell of its opening ringing. “Take a break, yeah? I’ll manage for the next half an hour, if you just wanna sit and chill for a bit,” you offer, Jeongyeon letting out a sigh of relief.
“Are you serious?” she exclaims before hugging you tightly. “I fucking love you,” she says, pulling away and hopping down the back counter and to the back room while you smile widely before turning around to face the new customer at the counter.
Your smile drops faster than you can blink.
Seungcheol’s smile, at one time, was among one of your favorite sights on the whole damn planet. Now, you can’t help but turn away, too scared to look him in the eye. Scared that if you look long enough, you’ll find something you aren’t ready to see.
Don’t falter, you tell yourself. You haven’t been healing for months for it to amount to nothing. “What can I get you?” you ask casually, looking down at the cashier tablet, pretending to look through the catalog.
You didn’t look at him long enough to see if his smile vanished just as quickly as yours, to see if he expected you, to know what he was thinking at all honestly. You aren’t ready for that, and it’s pathetic, you think to yourself.
“Uh,” is the first thing you hear Cheol say to you after six months. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting him to follow with, but it is most definitely not, “Don’t you know my usual?”
It takes all your self control to not snap your eyes up and say, of course I know your usual, I never forgot, how could I forget, it’s always an iced latte with—“No, sorry, I don’t,” you say flatly, still not looking at him.
Cheol is slightly surprised by your choice of words, partly because when Joshua told him that your door was shut and not going to budge open, he didn’t really believe him. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t be able to hit it straight off the bat when he tried to reconcile, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this.
Not that he planned this—he knew you worked here, just not when. Cheol was just struck with luck when he walked in, ready to order a coffee when his eyes landed on your familiar figure this evening, and as an opportunist, he just couldn’t turn down the chance to try and talk to you.
Of course now, he isn’t sure if this course of action was the right one—you were never cold, not to him, not to Yejin, not to anyone really. It’s weird, he thinks.
“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup, please,” he replies with a small nod of acceptance. Joshua was right. Your door was locked.
“Your drink will come out over there,” you say, pointing over to the left counter. “Cash or card?”
He thinks it’s worth a shot to try again. “When was the last time I used anything but card?” Cheol accepts defeat when you don’t crack a smile, not even one bit.
“So you’re using card?” you ask plainly, turning the tablet over so he can swipe down. Cheol chuckles nervously as he pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t say anything after that, and for that, you are grateful.
Once he’s done paying, you turn on your heel quickly and make his drink. You don’t look up, don’t turn back—you don’t know if you’re ready to see him watching you, if he is at all. You aren’t sure what you’d like more: having him watching you, or having him not.
Gulping down a hard lump in your throat as you wait to pull the shot of espresso, you think deeply. It’s just how Jeongyeon said it, you figure: ignorance is bliss.
Jeongyeon thinks parties aren’t your thing. “They just don’t suit you,” she explains when you’re working one afternoon.
You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean not my thing?”
She shrugs, carrying in some boxes of cups. “It’s not a bad thing—I’m not calling you boring or anything—I’m just saying. You’re a very work-at-a-coffee-shop kind of girl, and not a let’s-go-party kind of girl, you know?”
The word bounces around in your mind. Boring.
“I can be both,” you huff. “You’re only saying this because I actually do work at a coffee shop.”
“Whatever,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “Come with me tonight then?”
You scrunch up your face. “Tonight? I work tonight,” you tell her with a frown.
“Get Hyunwoo to cover your shift then, I’m sure he’ll do it,” she suggests. You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your other co-worker.
“Okay, but if he says no it isn’t my fault.”
“Ya-da, ya-da, ya-da,” Jeongyeon mutters, waving her hand at you with a sly grin. “So I’ll see you tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.
“If Hyunwoo is willing to give up his Saturday evening, I guess so.”
“Ugh, he better agree. Tell him if he does it, I’ll set him up on a date with Nayeon.”
You roll your eyes with a small giggle. “You need to stop using her to get what you want—she’s going to stop being your friend if you keep setting her up on dates so people can do you favors.”
“If that ends up happening…” Jeongyeon’s voice trails off as she glances at you. “…well that’s what you’re here for!”
It’s how you end up putting on some cute pants and black crop top that you’ve been saving for a night just like. Jeongyeon and you are ubering the way to whoever’s house this party is at, and you’re pretty sure neither of you have a good idea of how you’re supposed to get home, but that’s a problem for another time.
When you arrive, the house is already packed, but the two of you don’t have too much trouble slipping through the open door and into the crowd of people that fill each room. You haven’t been to a party in a while, and the loud music along with the rush you naturally feel when you're around so many people starts to return to you.
You see many faces—mostly ones you recognize, but the names fall flat on your tongue. Like you said, it’s been a while since you’ve come to a party.
When you make your way to the kitchen, you’re greeted by a kind, familiar voice. Smiling at Joshua as he calls out your name, you give him a sideways hug before you make your way to the counter with all the drinks. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teases, and you push him lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Jeongyeon invited me last minute…I had to get Hyunwoo to take my shift,” you explain.
“Ah, that makes sense,” and there’s a funny look on his face when he says it.
“What’s with that face?”
“Nothing! It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“You know Hyunwoo likes you, right?” Joshua says casually, pouring you a cup of punch. Usually, you don’t trust what other people hand to you, but Joshua is a safe exception.
“What?” you ask, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You’re lying. Did he tell you that?”
“Not directly…but it’s obvious. Seriously, who gives up their Saturday evening unless they’re making major bank or they have a crush.”
“Whatever. He’s a sophomore,” you murmur, taking a sip of the drink. It’s so sweet it almost masks the taste of alcohol. “Plus, he’s not my type. And I’m not interested in dating. I have too much going on,” you list.
“Please,” Joshua scoffs. “Your thesis and being a barista is not too much.”
“Shut up! I’m here, at a party, aren’t I?”
“Will you come to the next one?”
“That depends.”
“On?” he asks hopefully.
“Hm,” you hum, tapping a finger on your chin. “When, where, who, why, how.”
“Ugh, you’re seriously annoying about this. Just show up when I call you next, okay?”
“No promises. This night better be good if you want me to live up to that.”
“Well I’m not throwing this party so I can’t control that.”
You grin. “Too bad.” You’re having fun, you realize, even if it’s with the comfort of Joshua. You’re glad Jeongyeon brought you here. Joshua glances around for a moment and then back at you, opening his mouth to speak. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell him before he can say anything, “I can take care of myself.”
“I know, I just—” he stops himself. You know where this is going, and Joshua knows he doesn’t really need to say it. Cheol is here.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, patting his shoulder firmly, and in this moment you aren’t lying. Not to yourself, not to Joshua. It is okay. You are okay.
He watches you for a moment and then nods, ruffling your hair for a moment before waving goodbye to head off in some other room. You spend the next few minutes tossing your now empty cup to the side, heading off to some other room to find Jeongyeon. She’s dancing with some friends and the moment her eyes lay on you, she notices the deep flush to your face.
Calling you over, you dance with Jeongyeon, music blaring in your ear as you’re pressed up against her and other girls you’re sure you knew the names of at some point in your life. It’s exhilarating for a moment, but then suddenly, after around fifteen minutes, it isn’t.
“I’m going to head out for a breather,” you tell Jeongyeon loudly over the music, and she doesn’t seem to hear your words but with the way you’re pointing at the back door, she figures out what you’re saying. Nodding with a thumbs up, she smiles before turning back to dance along with her friends as you slip out of the huddle of people.
You notice a familiar face from the corner of your vision, but you feel too hot and the air is too stuffy for you to bear another second longer, escaping to the backyard.
It’s quiet outside. The night air is cool, and you now realize why no one is out in the pool like they usually are. Looking down at your feet, you contemplate your next actions for a moment before rolling up the hem of your pants until your knees and sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping in your legs.
You hiss at the cool feeling for a moment, but quickly adjust—you’ve been feeling too hot all evening and this is exactly what you need to take a moment to calm down. Alcohol has never quite been your best friend, the liquid always sending a flush of heat through your whole body.
The water soothes you, and you feel at peace for a moment. Then there’s the sound of the door sliding open and a familiar patter of footsteps thuds against the concrete.
“Isn’t the water cold?” Jeonghan says casually, standing next to you.
You shrug. “I needed to cool down.”
“Hm, fair,” he murmurs, sitting down himself and crossing his legs on the concrete edge of the pool. “It’s been a minute.”
“Has it?” you reply quietly. Yeah. It’s only been six months. You don’t let Jeonghan know that you’ve been counting.
“You don’t stop by to drop off the old pastries anymore,” he says. “Mingyu tries to make croissants now, but it’s the one thing he isn’t great at baking.”
You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol speaking but you’re blunt when you respond, “That sucks.” Jeonghan laughs quietly, nodding. He isn’t used to you being like this —when Cheol said you were different, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t really this.
“How’s school? You working on your thesis and shit?”
You shrug. “I guess. Busy times.”
“You’re being awfully cold,” Jeonghan says with a tick of his tongue. “D’you not have any drinks—you’re always more fun when you’re drunk.”
“Thanks,” you mutter with furrowed eyebrows. Yejin used to tell you that.
“Sorry, that was rude,” Jeonghan says quickly when he notices how you still. “I didn’t mean it like that—I mean, I guess everyone is more fun when they’re drunk.” You chuckle a little at that and he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that he’s able to get you to loosen up, even just a little. There’s an awkward silence that settles over the two of you as he watches you as you kick your feet in the water. Jeonghan thinks he might take his chances.“He misses you.”
You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you really hope Jeonghan doesn’t notice. You hate how you know who he’s talking about right away, not needing to say the name. “Jeonghan,” you say, and you know that your wobbly voice gives it all away, “Do you really think that’s fair?”
He says your name, and you turn away.
“Do you think that’s fair to me?” Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “He misses me? What about me? What about how I feel? Has Cheol thought about that? Has he?”
“I’m not trying to say it’s fair, I’m just telling you how he’s feeling—”
“Okay? There isn’t much for me to do about it,” you reply quickly. “Cheol and Yejin—” you let out a humorless laugh, “—it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. I was able to deal with it. I’m sure Cheol can too.”
“He’s really upset with himself for it,” Jeonghan tries to reason. “Even when he was with Yejin. They’d have arguments about it.”
“Okay? It’s not like I asked him to do that. It’s not like he was my friend to tell me about it.”
“Well if you would just listen—”
“No, you listen,” you say firmly, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Did you know what Yejin said to me the last time we spoke?” Jeonghan shakes his head. “She told me I was boring,” you spit out, and you realize that it’s the first time you’ve ever actually recounted that night to anyone but yourself. “And that she wasn’t even mad that I liked Cheol, but that she hated how I let her have him.” You pause to wipe away some tears. “And she was right. I didn’t put myself first. I could have told Cheol first, could’ve worked things out before she found out, could’ve done something for him, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again so right now I am going to put myself first.”
Jeonghan is frowning now at the intake of all this information. It’s his first time hearing your side of the story, and he can’t help but get confused with the different timeline’s he’s got going on inside of his head. “Is this really putting yourself first?” he finally asks, and you glare at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying. He was your best friend for a whole decade. Maybe having him back in your life will do more good than you think.”
You scoff. “You mean do Cheol more good to his life. Don’t look at me like that—what do you know about me that makes you so sure of this?”
“Cheol knows you, you know him, and as far as I know, you could use a friend or two.”
“Thanks for calling me friendless,” you say dryly. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m fine. I am over it, and I don’t mind having two less friends. And either way, Cheol couldn’t have been that good of a friend if he was willing to just let go of me like that after all those years.” Jeonghan stays silent. “I don’t need more drama in my life anyways,” you conclude, pulling your feet out of the water and standing up.
“You’re not going to give him a second chance?”
You don’t answer as you walk away.
Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, for once in his life. Okay that is an exaggeration, but it’s the first time in a few months that he isn’t stumbling over himself at a party. It’s the first time in a long while that he hasn’t even had a sip of alcohol at this outing, and honestly, he’s quite proud of himself.
He knows why that is, and he isn’t afraid to admit it. When Joshua walks past him and gives him a funny look, Cheol knows what’s up. “No drinks?” Joshua asks, quirking up a brow.
“Joshua,” he murmurs, and he’s surprised his friend can even hear him over the music. “Jeonghan is talking to her.”
Joshua purses his lips. “Yeah, I know.”
Choi Seungcheol is quiet at a party, for the first time in…well pretty much ever. He isn’t under the influence, but it feels like everything is racing through his mind at a hundred miles per hour. Leaning against the wall, Joshua softens his gaze.
“Loosen up,” he says, and then thinks again. “And please don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m not drunk,” Cheol scoffs, standing up straight as he glances out the back door, watching you kick the pool water. He remembers his birthday party over a year ago—the pool, you, Yejin, fun. Cheol walks away, not sure where he’s heading and Joshua, using his better judgment, doesn’t follow.
Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, but he might as well be out of his damn mind.
Tonight is not your night.
Your head is pounding. You fucking hate it. You don’t like getting drunk, at least not like this. Not in the way that you’re seeing two of everything. Not in the way that your body feels like it’s on fire, sweat soaking your sheen black shirt. Not in the way that you’re thinking about everything you shouldn’t.
After your conversation with Jeonghan, you realize you don’t have an answer. Pandora’s box is too tempting, and all your better judgment tells you to leave this door closed. To bury it up, throw it into the ocean, burn it—anything to keep it away from you, but the alcohol that courses through your veins brings the memories flooding back.
Now, you aren’t sure if your head hurts from thinking about Cheol, or from the alcohol, or both.
It’s too much.
You lean against one of the steps as you sit on the stairs, clutching a bottle of water close to your chest. Jeongyeon is…she’s fuck knows where. You lost track of her hours ago—after you came back in from the backyard, you got lost in conversations with people you haven’t caught up with in ages, and one thing led to the next and now you’re on nth drink.
You feel dizzy and the cup in your hand without the water bottle slips past your fingers and before you can act quick enough, the cup is tumbling down the two steps in front of you and spilling all over the floor. Granted, it isn’t the only mess made in this house tonight, and by the looks of it, it won’t be the last, but you still feel bad, quickly scrambling up to pick up your cup and find some tissues.
As you lean forward and stumble over the steps a little, you realize your center of gravity is off and you’re about to fall forward, quickly holding out your hands to brace your fall. As you land on the ground with a thud, your mind spins—everything spins, you feel too warm, and then you feel your drink stain your pants in the spot you fell onto and—fuck, this really is too much for you.
Maybe you should’ve just accepted what Jeongyeon said. Maybe—fuck, who are you kidding—parties definitely don’t suit you. You’d be a fool to deny that now, especially when you’re aching to just leave already, even though you never made any plans of getting home.
That problem that you saved to deal with “at a later time” is becoming a problem you need to deal with now and you race through your options, all while seated on the floor, forgetting about how you need to clean up this mess.
It’s when your head starts to hurt and you scrunch up your face in hopes to soothe your headache when you hear his voice. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and then it’s pulling you up and onto your wobbly legs. “Let’s get you out of here,” Cheol mumbles, and without weighing the consequences of your actions, you nod along.
You don’t care anymore. You need to leave, and if Cheol is the path to getting out, you won’t mind.
When his arms lead you out the front door and into the night, you feel cold. Extremely cold. Maybe it’s because your body is so warm, maybe it’s because the wet alcohol on your pants is sending shivers up your spine—maybe it’s that you’re starting to slowly realize who you’re with.
Standing on the grass, you aren’t sure what to do now. What should you do? What does Cheol want you to do—you stop yourself. It shouldn’t matter what he wants you to do, you remind yourself, so why do you find your gaze lazily making its way over to his face?
Fuck ignorance and its bliss. Right now, you want to know what Cheol is thinking. He’s looking down at you, and suddenly you feel small. His face isn’t demeaning, it’s not angry, he’s not upset, but you just feel so pathetic.
And god, do you hate that word. It echoes in your head. Your dirtied pants, flushed and puffy cheeks, disheveled hair, all as you struggle to stand up—pathetic. You turn away from him, not being able to watch him watch you any longer.
“Let me drive you home,” he says finally over the thick air.
“You’re drunk,” you protest mindlessly—you don’t have a clue if that’s true at all, but knowing Cheol, it probably is.
“I haven’t had anything all night.” Nevermind, you tell yourself, maybe you don’t know him at all. Can six months really change a person that much?
Cheol is thinking the same thing about you. Your eyes are glossy and you look so out of it and he can’t even remember the last time he saw you like this—the only memories he has are when you first got drunk with him and Yejin in high school. The memory shoots an arrow at his heart, but he brushes off the feeling, focusing on you right now.
“Trust me,” he says. You blink a few times, staring at the ground, then at the sky, and then at Cheol. “Trust me,” he repeats, and now you remember just how well you know him. Cheol isn’t asking right now, no, he’s begging. You think as deeply as your wasted mind will let you.
Do you trust Cheol? No.
Cheol hurt you. Yejin hurt you.
Is this about Yejin? No.
Do you trust Cheol? No.
What is this about? I don’t know.
Do you trust Cheol? I don’t know.
Can you trust Cheol? …
He places a hand on your shoulder and the touch is firm.
Can you trust Cheol? Of course you can.
His eyes are soft as you look up at him.
Do you trust Cheol? Absolutely.
Optimism would say that you left the door unlocked. Joshua would disagree and say that you weren’t going to be inside even if the door was wide open. Jeonghan, surprisingly, doesn’t agree with Joshua—your words were harsh, but the water streaming down your cheeks told him that there was more going on in your head than you let on.
Seungcheol tends to only listen to what he wants to hear, at least that’s what all his friends have noticed. They saw it with Yejin—ignoring all the red flags, late nights of arguing until Cheol would murmur, “it’s fine, let’s just go to sleep.” Reality wasn’t the easiest for him to face, and now it’s more apparent than ever.
“He’s too optimistic about her,” Joshua sighs, throwing himself onto his friend’s couch the morning after. He slept over at his friends’ place, and they follow carefully behind him now.
“He still has hope?” Mingyu asks incredulously, sitting on an armchair.
“Too much of it,” Joshua replies, sitting up straight so that there’s room for Jeonghan on the couch.
“She’s still nice to me,” Mingyu says thoughtfully. “Maybe she doesn’t hate him.”
“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” Jeonghan says. “She’s still close friends with Joshua, so I don’t think she’s going to let that whole situation get in the way of her own friendships.”
Joshua nods in agreement, adding, “That, and I never said she hated Cheol.”
Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “She doesn’t?”
“I don’t think she ever did,” Joshua says honestly, leaning back into the cushions as he stretches his arms.
“Really? I would’ve,” Mingyu admits and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.
“We know that you would,” he teases, causing the taller boy to pout but keep his mouth shut. “Anyways, I think Cheol is going to keep trying.”
“I know he will,” Joshua mutters, running a hand over his face. “He’s going to go in circles after her.”
“She’s not gonna give in?” Mingyu asks, and Joshua shakes his head, but Jeonghan puts his hand up in protest.
“I think she might eventually come ‘round to a stop,” he says, and Joshua shoots him a look of surprise. “I dunno, I know you and her are close, but I just have a feeling. We’ll have to see.”
“Don’t let Cheol hear that. He’ll take it as a sign to never stop,” Joshua warns.
Seungcheol doesn’t hear this conversation now or ever, but he never had plans of stopping in the first place. He was always more optimistic than you—than anyone you knew, really—and anyone who knows him should know better than to underestimate the extent of his determination.
Jeonghan and Joshua are making that mistake right now, and even though Cheol will never know what they said, he is determined to prove them wrong, for the sake of his own sanity.
Jeongyeon picks up the phone after the first ring. “I am so sorry,” she babbles into the line. “I—fuck—we should’ve figured out a ride—I mean I should’ve figured out a ride since I basically forced you to come and I knew I would be drinking and—god, I am so sorry.”
Your head rings at the way her voice blares through the phone, and you sit up and against your headboard. You woke up only moments ago, greeted by a million texts from Jeongyeon, not bothering to soothe your hangover headache before calling her back—she must have been worried, you told yourself.
“It’s okay,” you mumble, reaching over to grab some water from your bedside table. “I got a safe ride home.”
“Yeah, Joshua told me…but still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you to find a ride on your own.”
“Don’t apologize Jeongyeon, I left you without a ride too so stop apologizing or else you’ll start to make me feel bad.”
You can hear her huff on the other end, and you smile. “Okay fine, but seriously. I’ll cover one of your shifts or something soon because I feel bad for even taking you. You looked miserable.”
“That was only because Jeonghan came up to me,” you tell her honestly.
“Jeonghan? Like Seungcheol’s friend?” she says, and you can tell from her voice that she’s hesitating to even say his name.
“Yes,” you sigh softly. Jeongyeon wants to know more, you can feel it, but you aren’t in the mood to bring it up, at least not with her. “It’s whatever. I’ll see you Wednesday?”
She pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend your quick switch of topics. “Uh, sure. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum, pulling back your phone as you click to hang up. Letting your head fall back onto your pillow, you inhale deeply. You remember the night before too vividly—even if you were drunk, there was too much happening for you to forget.
You know you can’t forget, so you decide to do just what you’ve been doing for the past half year: ignore. It’s what you’re best at, after all. Yet as your day goes on, your mind begins to trail off. You think, and you think, and you think until you aren’t sure what was real and what was not from last night.
You start to realize that you aren’t as good at ignoring as you like to think.
“You think too much,” Hyunwoo jokes, watching you stare at the shot of espresso in front of you. You’d made it for yourself as an attempt to feel more energized after your lecture, but you find yourself zoning out as the small cup sits on the counter, waiting for you to gulp it down.
“Uh, sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head a little. “This shift is light and we haven’t had any customers in a few minutes so I just…”
“It’s fine,” Hyunwoo replies with a smile, and you purse your lips. Ever since Joshua told you that Hyunwoo likes you, you’ve been warning yourself to tread lightly. Not that he isn’t a good guy—Hyunwoo is great—he’s just not your type.
What is your type? The thought is swept out of your mind before you even come up with an answer, swooping up the shot of espresso and holding it up to your lips.
It’s been three days since the party, and you haven’t talked to Joshua in a minute, so your mind is slightly frazzled. Hyunwoo is nice, but you miss the comfort of your close friend, and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he has anything to say about Cheol driving you home that night.
You’re sure he does—you can already predict his words: “you told yourself you wouldn’t talk to him.” Joshua might be harsh with his words, but you feel with the way you’ve been losing your damn mind recently, you need someone like him to bring you back to reality.
Maybe that’s what went wrong with you, with Cheol, with Yejin—with the three of you. You and Cheol were too lost in fantasies, Yejin always holding you two down. She was right—Cheol wouldn’t like you. Two people who didn’t know a reality other than their imaginations couldn’t work out.
Cheol needed someone to ground himself, you needed someone to ground yourself, and at the end of the day, Yejin chose to help him. You still think about what you would have done if you were in her situation, and after months, you can’t come up with an answer.
You remember the events leading up to her decision like it’s as clear as day, and no matter how many times you replay that moment, you don’t know what to think, except that you’re angry, you’re sad—they left you.
“I heard you and Joshua,” Yejin tells you quietly, and you feel your heart stop. “You like Seungcheol?” and the way she uses his full name makes you feel almost ashamed for confirming it with a nod.
“I—” you pause, “—I didn’t know you liked him.”
“I love him,” she corrects you.
“Oh,” is all you manage out.
“You’re pathetic.”
That was the start of it. Yejin sent Chaeyoung over the next day to pick up her stuff from your apartment. You didn’t hear another word from Cheol. The last thing you remember him saying to you was from that night is still a jumble in your head.
You hate crying, and everyone knows it. So when you sprint out of the room minutes after Yejin, eyes red and puffy, Cheol knows something is wrong. Before he can walk up to you, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Yejin has her head pushed up next to his ear.
You don’t know what she tells him, but his gaze falters. The last thing you hear him say is your name quietly as you rush away.
That night, Joshua drives you home while you think about how you’re going to tell your mother that Cheol and Yejin won’t be coming to your house for spring break.
That was six months ago. Of course, six months pales in comparison to the decade you spent as friends. The years from middle school, to high school, to college—you three side by side. Things changed so quickly, too quickly.
Sometimes you think about what she might’ve told him—what she could’ve said that made him turn away at every gathering you were both at after that. That made him erase the years you shared before all this. That made you all strangers.
You figure things like this will never make sense to you. You don’t understand now, and you probably never will—you are content with that.
At least, up until three days ago you were. Some small voice in your head is reminding you of the confusion, the hurt, the heartbreak you felt when it all happened. Now, you’re more desperate than ever to know what exactly happened, it’s just a matter of if you’re willing to go down this rabbit hole of reconnection.
It’s like the universe hears you and laughs. The ringing of the door fills the little cafe and you’re pushing yourself off the counter, nodding and Hyunwoo. “I got it,” you tell him, dropping your cup in the sink and walking over to the register.
Of course it’s Cheol standing in front of you. You can’t tell if he found out your schedule from Joshua (but no, Joshua wouldn’t do that to you) or if it’s just something like fate. Fate.
You sigh, preparing yourself for yet another onslaught of thoughts. “What can I get you?”
There’s something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “Don’t you remember my usual?” Cheol attempts, and you’re surprised by his forwardness. Don’t be shocked, you think. Cheol never backs down, never stops trying.
Do you give in? Just this once? He did help you out that night—you aren’t sure if you’d be able to get home in one piece if it weren’t for him. Then again, it could’ve just been one of Cheol’s kind favors, something that isn’t reserved for only you, but just any drunk girl in general. You don’t want to mistake his qualities of a gentleman with him holding out a figurative olive branch.
Trust me, his words are like a broken record in your mind.
You’re thinking too much. Fuck, if he didn’t hold out the olive branch that night, you’re going to try to now.
“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup,” you say quietly, tapping it into the tablet. You’re scared to look up because you know he's grinning. You shouldn’t want to be the reason behind his smiles, but you do.
“Thanks,” he chirps, holding out his card so you can turn around the tablet for him.
“Your order will come out on your left,” you tell him, not looking up. You expect things to stop now, for things to quietly go back to normal.
“Hey, when do you get off?”
You do a double take to make sure you heard him correctly. “Sorry?” You finally look up at him and god, you start to remember why you loved his smile so much.
“I asked when you get off from your shift? Six?”
“I—uh, yeah,” you reply without thinking. “How’d you know?”
“That’s when Joshua gets off on Fridays. Just a guess,” he shrugs. You purse your lips and don’t respond, not sure where to take things from here; yeah you held out the branch but you didn’t expect him to grab it just this quickly. “Can I stay until then?”
You should say no. You really should say no. But then you’re thrown back to three days ago and the words are sounding an awful lot like trust me, trust me, and then you realize you just can’t deny him.
“Okay,” you say softly. You can tell from the look of relief on Cheol’s face that he wasn’t expecting this, and you aren’t sure what to take from that. As you turn to make his drink, you glance at the clock. Thirty seven minutes before your shift ends, and you can’t figure out if you’re going to try and make the time before them fly or go slow.
Handing Cheol his drink, you don’t say anything, your movements swift as you try and unbox your own feelings. Of course, you aren’t given the liberty to do that, not when Hyunwoo is standing in front of you.
“Is that Seungcheol?”
“Take a wild guess,” you mutter, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. Maybe if you think hard enough you’ll realize it’s just a dream where your actions have no real consequences.
“I thought you two didn’t talk.”
“Did Joshua tell you that?”
“Kind of…maybe…I sorta figured it out on my own,” Hyunwoo admits. “Sorry, that sounds weird.” You sigh softly, feeling bad for how flustered Hyunwoo is.
“It’s okay…let’s just get back to work,” you suggest, turning away to clean up some of the counters with your extra time.
You don’t notice it, but Cheol watches the conversation between you and Hyunwoo unfold, and while he can’t hear what you two are saying, he has a feeling he won’t like it. He has to remind himself to not have high expectations, to not get his hopes up, just like Jeonghan and Joshua warn, but he just can’t help it.
But when you agree to see him after your shift (he knows you didn’t technically agree to that, but he knows you and is sure that you caught onto his underlying message), he just has to stay hopeful. So as he patiently waits for the clock to strike six, he thinks about what to say.
To be honest, this all happened on a whim. Again, he didn’t really know that you were working today, he just happened to get lucky. Cheol himself isn’t sure what exactly he wants to say to you, he just knows it is a lot.
He thinks about you a lot. The good, the bad, all the in between—Seungcheol misses you. And he knows that it isn’t fair, that he shouldn’t do this, that he doesn’t have the right—Joshua has made that clear to him on numerous occasions.
“She’s fine without you.”
“But—”
“You don’t have a say about being in her life.”
“And you do?” Cheol shoots out.
Joshua steps back. “I don’t either, but I know how she’s doing better than you. I know how she felt after everything happened.”
Cheol pauses. That, Joshua did. Cheol didn’t know anything, did he? “This isn’t about you, it’s about me and it’s about her.”
“There is no you and her,” Joshua says bluntly. Cheol doesn’t say anything, but he knows in his mind that he needs to change that.
Cheol lets the idea run through his mind, that he's making a royal mistake right now, and all this is going to amount to nothing. He doesn’t mull over it for longer than ten seconds. He is going to do this, and if he doesn’t, he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.
You get off your shift while Hyunwoo continues his. “You’re going to talk to him?” he asks with knitted eyebrows, pointing at Cheol.
“Uh, yeah,” you say sheepishly in the back, untying your apron. “Don’t tell Joshua, he’ll kick my ass,” you add, only only half joking. Joshua definitely won’t let you hear the end of this, but that is another problem for another time. Hanging up your apron, you grab your backpack from the shelf and slip to the back door. “See you later!” you chirp, throwing Hyunwoo one last wave before you enter the seating area from the back to make your way to Cheol who’s sitting at an elevated stool by the window.
Your once confident strides are much smaller now, you find yourself holding back each one more and more. Do you really want this? Trust me. You’ll just have to find out. “Hey,” you say quietly, and this time you don’t let your gaze fall, tapping on Cheol’s shoulder. He turns around quickly, straw in his mouth as he drinks the half finished drink with a smile.
“Hey, you’re early,” he states casually, glancing at the time. It’s 5:57.
“I guess,” you reply, voice as still as you can manage.
“You’ve probably been here for a while,” Cheol murmurs to himself, getting up from his seat. “You want to go on a walk? The weather is nice right now.”
You want to roll your eyes and tease him, saying “it’s August, of course the weather is nice,” but you stop yourself—you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that level of comfort yet. “Sure,” you agree instead, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you follow him out the door and onto the main street.
“How was work? Stopped working at the bakery, huh?” he says, and you just don’t get it. How is he being so casual? How is he acting like this is the first time you two have had a real conversation in months? How is he—you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he calls out your name. God, you really missed how it sounded when he said your name. “What’s wrong?”
You don’t even think before responding. “What do you think is wrong?” Cheol is standing a few feet in front of you and the look on his face is confusing…you can’t read it. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s confused, or if it’s because you just aren’t used to this, or what. Whatever it is, you don’t like it.
“I’m sorry,” Cheol says softly, stepping forward. You still don’t move. “I—uh shit, sorry—this,” he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “this is weird, you’re right I just, I don’t know—”
“Is there something you want to say?” Your eyes bore into his, and Cheol knows he can’t keep any secrets from you.
“I’m sorry.”
You nod. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks hopefully.
“What do you want me to say?” you ask with a shrug. “Sorry for what?”
“A lot of things. Everything,” Cheol admits, and your eyes widen slightly at his honesty. You pretend to glance down at your watch.
“Well you’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him truthfully, “and don’t have a lot of time.”
“I’ll come again!” he says quickly, holding his hands up as you’re about to walk towards your car. “When do you work? Tell me. I’ll come after every shift.”
“I work almost everyday.”
“I’ll come everyday,” he says with no hesitation. Your heart tightens. You a month ago would have said fuck no, but then trust me, trust me is echoing in your head again and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding.
“Mondays and Tuesday I get off at 6, Wednesdays at 9, Thursdays at…”
You used to believe Seungcheol always lived up to his promises. When you were younger, you couldn’t think of a single time when he didn’t go by his word. You trusted him, always, so when he broke the promise of “we’ll stick together”—arguably the only one that actually mattered—you were shattered. You still are, or at least your trust is.
Right now, Cheol promises he’ll come see you after every shift. You don’t think you should trust him, but you do anyway, watching the clock to make sure he’s always here on time. You tell yourself you do it because you don’t like to be kept waiting, but you know deep down that you’re just trying to find an excuse.
You’re trying to justify your distrust, even though you already have a perfectly good reason for being tentative around Cheol. Somehow, whenever you’re with him, you forget about it all.
It’s awkward most of the time. Well, more like you’re awkward and Cheol just pretends you aren’t, acting all normal and like you aren’t stumbling over your words and blanking out mid sentence.
You’re not nervous, you just don’t know what to say, the words getting lost in your head as you wonder whether or not there’s a line and where it is and if you should cross it.
Today is the fifth day Cheol comes to see you after your shift. He comes in at 6:54 which is a bit earlier than usual, and it’s the first time that Joshua is seeing the scene unfold. As Cheol walks in, your friend throws you a careful glance before waving over at his friend and connecting fists as he hops over to take his order.
“Iced latte with—”
“I’m not here for a drink,” Cheol says quickly, putting his hand up before he can watch Joshus key in his usual order.
“Huh…did I miss something?” Joshua asks, checking his watch for any missed messages. You chew your lip and Cheol glances at you, realizing that you haven’t told Joshua that you and him are speaking again.
“Uh, no,” Cheol murmurs. He points at you and when he sees that you don’t protest, he proceeds. “We’re, uh, I’m just waiting for her shift to end and—” he stops talking when Joshua whips his head around to stare at you with a look of bewilderment.
You nod shyly, untying your apron as you make your way to the back room. Joshua follows quickly behind you, closing the door behind him while you hang up the garment. “What does he mean by that?”
“I dunno, Josh,” you say, because honestly you aren’t sure how to explain it either.
“Remember what you said?” he tells you—you know where this is headed, and you really don’t want him to bring it up. “You said you’d never forgive them.”
You did say that. “In a moment of anger,” you argue, grabbing your bag. You know he’s just being protective of you, but right now it’s getting on your nerves.
“And? You’re just going to forgive him because he drove you home when you were drunk?”
“I haven’t forgiven him!” you pause. “At least not yet.”
“You’re seriously going to forgive him after all that you said about moving on?”
“I have moved on, Joshua,” you tell him. It’s true. “There’s nothing wrong with letting him back in my life now, especially if he wants to.”
“And what if he fucks up again?”
You roll your eyes as you walk to the back door. “How’s that supposed to happen? Thought you said he and Yejin broke up?”
“They did, but that isn’t the point.”
“Then what is?” you ask exasperatedly. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. You’re acting like I don’t know the consequences of my actions. You’re acting as if I wasn’t the one who had to go through all that, so please just let me make this decision.”
Joshua steps back and sighs, and by the way he doesn’t say anything as you open the door, you assume he has accepted defeat.
Cheol meets you on the other side of the door, wearing his usual smile. You can only pray that he didn’t hear your conversation with Joshua. “Hey,” he greets and you nod in response. Well if he heard anything, he pretends he doesn’t. The truth is, Cheol hears every word, he’s just very good at putting a smile on his face.
You two walk out of the store silently and side by side. “How was work?” Cheol asks.
“Good. It’s most fun with Joshua,” you reply, walking on the sidewalk like you two usually do. You follow a trail down the street and through some parks for kids, always making a round trip back to your cafe where your car is parked.
The days have been getting shorter, and it’s evident by the way the sky is painted a deep orange right now. “Didn’t sound like he’s too happy today,” Cheol comments, and you halt your steps for just a moment, realizing he did hear you two.
“Uh, yeah,” you mumble. You two haven’t talked about that since you started speaking again. All the things Cheol said he wanted to apologize for were left suspended in the air, waiting for one of you to pluck it out and face reality. Neither of you were ever really good at that. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“I’m sorry you had to say that,” Cheol responds almost instantly, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face you.
Your eyebrows furrow when you respond, “What?”
“I mean, shit, I worded that badly,” he groans, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry that…you know—you said you’d never forgive me and I’m sorry. And I know you probably shouldn’t forgive me but I’m sorry.”
You certainly weren’t expecting that, but then again, you need to remind yourself to never be surprised when it comes to Cheol. You bite back the words, “it’s okay,” because you aren’t ready to say that, so instead you just nod. “Okay.” Your eyes glaze around your surroundings and they fall on a bench. Pointing at it, you say, “Let’s sit, yeah?”
You two sit side by side on the bench, and you think that this is the closest either of you have been in a long time, your thighs almost brushing against each other’s. The sky darkens above you, and you usually would take this as your cue to go back to your car, but tonight, you stay.
There’s a question that’s prodding at the back of your mind, and you chide yourself for even thinking about it. Don’t ask him, don’t do it, and you almost listen. Almost. You figure that the fact that you’re even here with Cheol right now is a sign that things are changing more than they already have, that you’re changing in ways that you didn’t know you could, and Cheol is changing, and he’s changing for you.
Cheol senses it too, that you’re thinking deeply, and he waits. When you’re finally lifting your head and looking up at the sky, he turns to you as you open your mouth. “How did you guys break up?” You can’t bring yourself to say “you and Yejin.” It’s too painful of a reminder that there was once a Cheol and Yejin, and that it came at the expense of you and Cheol and Yejin.
He takes a deep breath and hesitates, but you don’t retract your question. You feel after everything, you deserve to know, no matter how aching the memory is. “She cheated on me.”
“Oh.”
Cheol’s voice is flat for the first time since you’ve started speaking again. “Yeah,” he mutters. You purse your lips together, unsure of what to do, what to say. There was a time that you felt you knew all the right words, all the right things to do, but now you’re lost. Maybe it’s because Cheol has changed, but then—no, it’s not him, it’s you. You’ve changed. You thought you didn’t care, and that was true.
You didn’t care about what happened to Cheol or Yejin or them because they had left you and there was nothing after that. You didn’t care because caring wouldn’t help you get either of them back, and you didn’t care because caring only made long nights of you crying in your bed even longer.
But did you ever stop caring about Cheol? About Yejin? There’s a fine line, you realize, between caring about your relationship with someone and caring about them, and it hits you that not once did you not care about Cheol.
What would you have done if this had happened six months ago? What would you have said? You were never the best at words, but when it came to Cheol and Yejin, you always found some way to make them feel better. Looking over at Cheol, his head hangs low as he chews on his lip.
You reach over your hand and place it on his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry,” you tell him.
Cheol chuckles hollowly, causing you to frown deeply. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”
“We have time for that later,” you reply honestly, not breaking the contact even when he shifts a little, finally looking up at you.
“Later?” he asks hopefully. You smile and nod. This is a promise, you both know. Joshua is going to kill you for this later.
“He got fired?” you snort. “Didn’t he say he could get away with anything?”
“Yeah,” Cheol chuckles. “And to be fair, he did get away with a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t get fired months ago. He would give me and Soonyoung discounts all the time, it was crazy.”
“I remember that…” you say quietly.
“Yeah, anyways, he got fired and now he’s complaining about not having extra cash. Minghao’s telling him to just find another job but Hannie is convinced that he’ll be able to convince his boss to hire him back…”
“Knowing Jeonghan, he might just be able to pull that off.”
“Who knows,” Cheol murmurs with a shrug. “It’s late. Do you want to go?”
“Want me gone already?” you tease. Things are more comfortable now. It isn’t the same as before—how could it—but it’s getting there. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be “back to the old days,” but you sure are trying to get as close as you can.
“You know that isn’t true,” he shoots back. You trust him, and if that’s a mistake, you hardly care. Maybe this is where you start to crumble. “I’m just trying to make sure that it’s not too late when you get home.”
He’s being caring, although it isn’t unexpected. Cheol was always caring. “You’re right,” you murmur, not wanting to admit that you might have wanted to sit here and talk to him a bit longer. You stand up, grabbing your back and he follows after you as you walk up the street in the direction of the shop. You return back to the conversation of Jeonghan and his antics both in and out of the workplace, and before you know it, you’re back at the parking lot.
You’ve grown to look forward to these meetings—how could you not—and it does kill a little bit of self control inside of you every time you realize that fact.
“You gonna go now?” he asks softly, and as you stop walking, you let the tension grow thick. This part is always awkward. You don’t know if it’s fitting to say “bye” or “goodbye” or “see you later” or hug him or wave or—you usually settle for a smile but there’s a growing ache in your heart which tells you that maybe you want more.
Cheol seems to think the same, and it all happens so quickly, too quickly, and suddenly you’re going dizzy and your world is spinning.
Choi Seungcheol’s lips are soft.
And they don’t press against yours for more than a second before you place your hands on his chest and push him back. You almost indulge. Almost.
“Why would you do that?” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Cheol runs a hand through his hair, steeping back with wide eyes.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking—shit, shit, shit—I’m sorry, I’m so sor—”
You ball your fists and your face contorts into some ugly sort of grimace. “Stop saying that!” you cry out, and Cheol stills. “Stop fucking saying you’re sorry! I-I-I hate it!”
“What?” and the hurt is more than evident in his voice.
“I know you’re sorry, okay? I get it,” you tell him exasperatedly. “And you keep saying it—you’re sorry for everything, you’re sorry for all of it. It’s all you say, but maybe if you just stopped and thought for a second you’d realize that no matter how much you keep saying it, I have not once said it’s okay.”
He gapes at you for a moment but recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I—” he pauses, “I don’t know how else to tell you. It’s been a few weeks and—”
“You didn’t speak to me for six months,” you spit out, and you wonder if this is what it’s all going to come down to. The past month of you figuring out your emotions, working out what you want, what’s good for you, what’s not—you’re afraid that right now it will all amount to nothing.
Maybe you two were in your heads too long. Maybe this was your harsh pull back down to the ground.
“Six months, Seungcheol,” you repeat, and he winces when you use his full name.
“I know, I’m s—”
“You’re sorry, I know,” you say quieter this time, slumping against the wall. His lips were so warm, so soft, you still feel their ghost on your lips. You calm down for a second at the thought, but then your anger bubbles up when you remind yourself that Yejin got to taste him too. Got to have him, love him, cherish him for those six months. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, but that isn’t what this is about anyways. Right now, all it does is fuel your heat.
“I just—I don’t know how to really say it,” Cheol admits.
“Well you should figure that out,” you tell him harshly. “I can’t stand here forever, waiting for you to find the right words.”
“You’re right, I know.”
“Do you?” you ask, exhausted. It’s all catching up to you know—you’re tired, so tired.
“I do.”
Do you trust Cheol?
“I don’t believe you,” your voice quivers when you say it, and Cheol feels his heart break at the sound. “I can’t.”
“I know—that’s my fault, I know.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m trying.” You know he is, there isn’t a doubt in your mind. Inhaling deeply, you choose your words carefully.
“We need to talk about everything,” you tell him slowly.
“Okay,” Cheol agrees quickly. “Okay, where do you want to start?”
“Where do you think we should start? I think that’s where we should start.”
Cheol sucks in a breath and pinches his eyebrows together. You can tell that he, just like you, is making sure he doesn’t say anything he’ll regret. “Well, the beginning, I guess,” he sighs, and you open your mouth in protest but he holds his hand out to stop you. “Okay just listen.”
“Fine.”
“I found out Yejin liked me in January,” he tells you.
“That was a month before…” your voice trails off and he nods.
“Before we got together and…” And we stopped talking to you. He doesn’t say, doesn’t need to. “Yeah. Chaeyoung told me. Yejin didn’t know I knew until…”
“Until you started liking her,” you mutter under your breath. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. “You know I know this, right? Joshua told me when you told him.”
Cheol seems surprised by that. “What, really?” you aren’t sure why he never expected that—you and Joshua are pretty much like siblings, after all.
“Yeah. I think I knew before Yejin,” you admit. Your voice is small, and the way the entire event of six months ago is playing out in your head is a not so nice reminder of why you’re in this situation in the first place.
“Oh.” Silence. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
You frown. “What was I supposed to say? ‘No Cheol! Don’t like Yejin! Like me!’” you say in a mocking tone. “Why would I do that to her? Why would I do that to you?” you were calm a moment ago, but you feel yourself growing upset again.
“I thought you—” Cheol thinks for a moment, wondering if he should say it, “—I thought you liked me.”
“I did,” you seethe out. “But did you think I was going to beg you to change your mind? To change your feelings?” Cheol is quiet now, and you take it as your cue to continue. “I…I cared about you and Yejin so much—” that’s a lie (you still do)—“and you should know that if you guys were happy I would be okay with that.”
“What about your feelings? Why didn’t you do anything about that?” Cheol shoots back, and it’s starting to sound an awful lot like your last conversation with Yejin.
“You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”
You feel tears stream down your cheeks at the memory and you need to remind yourself that it isn’t worth crying over—but then again, it is. “I would’ve dealt with my feelings just as I have been for the past six months—by myself and totally fine.”
Cheol doesn’t have a response to that, because if there’s one thing he won’t even attempt to refute, it’s this. Because after everything, you have been okay. You have been healing. It killed him every time Joshua would tell him you’re doing fine, because he wasn’t doing fine and he was having a really, really hard time accepting that.
He knows it’s unfair, Cheol knows he’s being anything but fair, but he just doesn’t know how to help it.
It’s the worst that you’re crying now—crying ‘cause of him. Because Cheol knows that you were okay and it was him that decided to butt back in your life to try and make amends, and you being you, decided to let him back in and fuck—he knows he’s being selfish by doing all this and he know he doesn’t deserve this yet you are still here, trying to hear him out.
“I fucked up, I don’t deserve a second chance.”
You choke back a sob, “Damn right you don’t,” and Cheol knows that you’re right.
“I’m still going to try.”
You brush some tears away from your face. “I know.”
You go home that night without another word, and Cheol only stops you to make sure you’ve stopped crying before you start the car and drive off. It’s the next day, and you can’t help but glance back and forth between the door and clock as your shift nears its end.
“You waiting for him?” Hyunwoo asks you from the side, and you feel a little bit bad at the way his voice sounds a bit sad.
“Uh—” Are you waiting for Cheol? “—I guess, yeah.” There’s no reason for you to deny it. You’ve replayed last night’s conversation more times than you can count, and you still aren’t sure how to feel. You need to see him.
As the time nears six, an uneasy feeling pools at your stomach, and you wonder what you’ll do if he doesn’t show up. End it for good? Add it to the list of reasons why you should never talk to him again? Block h—
The bell above the door ringing saves you from that rabbit hole. It’s 5:59 and Cheol waits in front of the door and for once, he isn’t donning a smile. Looking at Hyunwoo, you throw out a small wave before slipping to the back room. Hyunwoo doesn’t follow you, he stopped doing that after the first two times Seungcheol started coming, although you aren’t sure why. It’s a passing thought though, definitely not at the forefront of your mind as you hang your apron routinely and exit through the back door.
Cheol waits for you by the door and you don’t say anything as you both leave through the front. The atmosphere is thick and you aren’t sure who is going to say what and when. It’s only when you’ve walked around two minutes down your regular path that Cheol stops in front of that bench. Flickering his eyes towards yours for a moment of confirmation, he sits down and motions you to follow. You sit side by side and once again, you two are almost touching, but aren’t quite there just yet.
“So,” you finally say. “Where were we?”
“That night,” Cheol replies quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You glance over at him and can’t help but realize how…small he looks. You want to reach out and hold him for a moment, but you shouldn’t.
“What about that night?” you murmur. There’s too much about that night for you to even fathom what he’s thinking about.
“What did Yejin say to you? In the room?” he asks.
“Does that matter?” You seriously don't want to recount it, but then Cheol is nodding and you just have to give in. “She was mad…same reason as you,” you mumble.
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t like how I was accepting of it all,” you sigh, leaning back. “I think she just got sick of me,” you finally confess. “Didn’t like me anymore, and then she thought I was pathetic or something and used that as an excuse to just—I dunno, drop me.” You pause, turning to look at him again. “What did she tell you?”
You know you probably shouldn’t ask. It’ll be painful, you know, but you’re confident you can handle it.
“She said it couldn’t work…the three of us. That it was either me ‘n’ her or nothing, because nothing could go back to normal after this.”
You look down. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You believed her?”
“Well, at the time,” Cheol murmurs, “Yeah I did.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry.” Trust me, trust me. “I liked that she liked me. I liked her and I thought I was going to lose you either way and—”
“I said okay.”
“Is it okay?”
“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “I beat myself up a lot for all that, you know? Wondered what she could’ve said that made you not wanna fight to be my friend.” You scoff to yourself. “I guess we both suck at that.”
“Huh?”
“You know: fighting for what we want,” you clarify.
“That can change,” Cheol says, clearing his throat. “I’m fighting right now.”
That conversation is the first of many. One month later and Cheol is still fighting. It’s your birthday, and you aren’t surprised that he remembers, but you are surprised when he gets you a gift. A new apron. “Your old one is getting…well, old.”
You’re both sitting at the bench once again, and for the first time, your thighs brush against each other’s fully. It’s warm, it’s welcoming, it’s soft. Maybe you and Cheol haven’t finished crossing the bridge yet, but you’ve definitely finished building it. There’s time for the rest later. You want to focus on you and him now.
“I wonder why,” you say sarcastically, taking it out of the bag. “It’s cute—hey, is this my name?” you ask excitedly, holding up the little spot on the top with some letter embroidered in.
“Uh, yeah, it’s custom and all…I got Minghao to help me with the design.” You smile genuinely, turning to him.
“Thank you, I love it.”
“Thank god. Jeonghan said it was a stupid gift but I thought it was thoughtful…”
“Jeonghan once got you a rubber duck for your birthday, so I would take everything he says about gift-giving with a big fat grain of salt.”
“Hey, I still have that duck,” he tells you, and you both laugh together. “It’s in the bathroom, I only take it down for special occasions.”
“Special occasions being…?”
Cheol taps his chin. “Hmm…birthdays, the last day of school, Christmas…I’d like to think my luck is pretty great whenever I use it.”
“Is that so…” you hum. “When was the last time you used it?”
“Like two days ago.”
“Nothing special happened two days ago.” That’s a lie, and he sees right through it.
Cheol smiles smugly. “I know. It was just right before I came to see you.” Your cheeks burn as you turn away.
Two days ago being the last time you and him talked about all of it. From beginning to end, just like you had so many times before except for the first time, you were finally able to utter the words, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”
“Right…maybe luck really was on your side then,” you tease.
“Whatever,” Cheol says with a pout, watching you glance at your phone. “Do you need to go? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?”
“I don’t,” you say with a huff. “I just saw that my birthday gift from my parents got delivered. It’s fine, I’ll pick it up when I get home later.” You ponder whether this is the right moment to bring it up. “You can… come along if you want.”
It’s almost as if his ears perk up. “To your place?”
“Um, yeah,” you try to come off as casual. “Only if you want,” you add quickly, and he picks up on the double meaning right away.
Which is how you end up here.
“Haven’t been here in so long,” Cheol murmurs, looking over your apartment. It’s the exact same, save for some pictures with Yejin and him that have since been taken down. He would have been upset about it a month ago, but now he is content. It only makes it a goal for him to take more pictures with you now so you’ll have some to put up.
“Mhm,” you nod, putting your bag down on your kitchen counter.
“Hey…” he says softly as you flick on one light. It’s dim, but there’s just enough light for you to see the worried look on his face.
“Everything alright?”
He chews on his lips and he looks pretty. “I need to know where your head is at right now,” he admits. There’s a lot of different meanings to what he’s just asked, but with the way he’s looking at you, you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to say. “I don’t want to misread anything like the last time I—the last time.” The last time he kissed you.
You look down at the counter. You brought him here for a reason, but are you ready?
Trust me, trust me.
Of course you are. With Cheol, you’ll always be ready.
So when he’s pushing you up against the wall, hands grappling at your waist, feeling his warm, wet lips against you, you don’t waste a single second thinking about anyone else. You don’t think about what Joshua will say, you don’t think about how Jeongyeon will react, you don’t think about the look on Yejin’s face if she were to ever find out about this because right now, it’s Cheol that’s in front of you, and it’s Cheol that will always be in front of you.
One leg around his torso, your mouth smashes against his in a tangled mess of tongue and lip and it’s desperate and has you aching for more. And then he’s leading you to your bedroom and you are reminded of the fact that Cheol knows this place so well that he doesn’t even need to ask for directions.
Throwing you onto the bed your mind goes blank—it’s as if all the happiness in the world rushes to you at once, leaving you all light-headed and disoriented when Cheol clambers on top of you, his thigh wedged between your legs.
With his fingers pressed deeply into your hips as he runs his tongue along your jawline,rocking your clothed cunt against Cheol’s bare thigh, his gym shorts hiked up so that you can press your core as close to him as possible. Your breath is slightly labored as his lips press open mouthed kisses all the way down, and you feel yourself become increasingly needy at the way you can see the imprint of his cock against his shorts.
“Shit—you’re so—wait,” he murmurs, pulling his lips away from your burning skin to bore his eyes down at you. “Is this okay?” he asks softly, pulling his knee back so there’s some space between you and him. Cheol doesn’t expect for your eyes to widen, hand shooting out and grabbing his thigh to make sure it doesn’t move another inch.
“Yes,” you gasp out, pulling his leg so hard that he stumbles forward a bit when you do, the hard muscle pressing back against your core. Cheol lets the initial shock of you being needy for him settle in, and suddenly he’s grinning and having one hand back at your waist, the other at your neck so he can tilt your head up and have better access to skin over your collarbone.
His fingers are rough and calloused as they slip beneath your shirt, pushing it up just far enough that your bra is exposed. Hovering above you, you watch through hazy vision as Cheol’s eyes dilate at the sight, swooping his head down to free one of your tits from the cup and catching a nipple in his mouth.
Your body jerks against his as he swipes a tongue over the hardened peak, and suddenly you feel that there’s too much fabric between you and his thigh. “Ch-cheol,” you mutter, tapping at his head that is currently burning beneath your shirt while he sneaks kisses all up and down your stomach, between your tits, and over your cleavage.
“What is it, baby?” he coos, pulling his head out and looking up at you, the pet name shooting shivers up our spine.
“Pants—ah—” you whine when he presses his thigh harder into you. “Pants!” you cry, trying your best to unbutton them with shaky fingers. Cheol picks up right away, helping you unzip them before hooking two fingers on the waistband and yanking the fabric down and over your feet, freeing yourself and your pussy of its unbearable restraints.
“Fuck, this is—you’re so hot,” he murmurs, looking down at your bare legs and tracing his fingers from your ankles to your knees, and then finally through your inner thighs where he bends down and starts to place rough kisses.
Usually, if he was in his right mind, Cheol would have wanted to take his sweet time with you, unraveling, unwinding all of you. But he’s figured that both of you have waited long enough and that you both deserve to be needy, to be desperate, to let this moment pass as quickly as it started because there will be plenty of time for a round two and three later on.
All you need right now is to feel each other, which is how he ends up pushing your panties to the side and digging his tongue into your dripping folds without warning. “Cheol!” you moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair tightly while he simultaneously wraps one arm over your hips, pulling you closer.
Seungcheol is going crazy, he thinks, because the taste of your pussy is better than any alcohol he’s ever drunk. You’re sweet and your cunt is literally fluttering its pretty fuck folds all for him as he slides one finger through them to collect your growing wetness. He feels himself growing high on the feeling and taste alone, his own hips pressing into the mattress in hopes of relieving some of the tension in his own pants.
There’s a slobbering mess that runs down his lips and chin as he fervently makes out with your pussy, and you briefly wonder how a man can be so good at making you feel this good before the thought is swept from your mind by one of Cheol’s thick fingers prodding at your entrance.
Holy hell, you’re so tight for him—gummy walls clamping down on his single digit the second he started to move it in and out’ta you, his mind racing as he thinks about how you might feel around his cock. And Cheol isn’t the only one thinking about it either, because when he’s slipping in another finger, you’re already crying out for more.
“I gotta work you up to it baby,” he tells you sympathetically, using one free hand to shove down his pants leaving him in only a shirt and boxers.
“Don’t wanna wait…” you protest with a pout, eyes shamelessly looking down at his figure hunched over you so you can catch sight of the imprint of his cock against his boxers.
Cheol chuckles, even though he’s on the brink of giving in himself. “Take your shirt off for me, yeah? It’ll save us some time.” That’s all you need to hear before you’re sitting up and yanking the stupidly tight shirt over your head and throwing it to the side as Cheol’s fingers continue their onslaught deep inside your cunt.
It’s less of an in and out motion now, and more of a curling motion that’s exploring you, finding out what makes you hum, what makes you moan, and what makes you go—“Oh fuck, Cheol!” He grins at the sound, leaning down to press a kiss on your clit as he pulls his slick fingers away.
“You wanted more?” he murmurs, slipping his own shirt over his head to reveal the familiar set of abs and toned chest. You let out a dazed smile at the sight, letting your body fall back onto the mattress.
“‘course I do,” you reply without hesitation, watching eagerly as his hand holds the waistband of his boxers and pushes the cloth down, revealing his cock all thick and hard as it springs out and hits his abdomen.
It’s long and it’s thick, and it’s nothing less than what you expected from Cheol, in fact, it’s a lot more than that. But you don’t even have time to think about how pretty his cock looks, pink tip all flushed as a thick vein runs down the side of its length, because it’s pushing against your entrance as he watches your face carefully.
When your eyebrows knit into a convulsion of pleasure and you squeak out his full name, he knows he can't hold back, slamming into your drooling cunt in one go.
And his cock is so big it’s pushing you open, but the pain is so good, so enthralling, that you don’t even mind being split in half if it’s like this—if it’s because every time he pulls his hips back, you know he’ll slam it deeper and deeper every single time, hitting spots deep inside of your cunt that you didn’t even know existed.
All while your limbs are flailing around him, thrashing as you bite into his shoulder, muffling your cries of, “Cheol, Cheol, Cheol!”
Your name falls from his lips too, mixed in with the mindless words of, beautiful, pretty, princess as he compliments you for takin’ him so well and squeezin’ him so good he doesn't know how he hasn’t bust already.
“God, fuck,” he moans when you look up at him through heavy lashes, tethering his boto m lip between his teeth to try and slow his impending orgasm. “Fuck,” he chokes out, “shit—I love you—”
And there is your breaking point. Like the world has come to a stop and there is only you and Cheol and this moment and—god, you really are too far gone now—and him and you is all that matters.
You cum like you never have before, his cock battering your cunt ‘til you’re shaking and crying and yelling out his name as you feel nothing but him, think nothing but him, know nothing but him.
This is the moment you’ve both been waiting for, and as soon as Cheol has noticed your slower breaths he’s pulling out and letting you wrap one hand around his fat cock to help jerk himself off. He’s so close—so fucking close—and then you’re whispering those fated words—those three words—he feels everything in him just snap, hot cum shooting all over your swollen, abused cunt, and Cheol feels his heart swell.
Love.
There’s a lot more you need to work on, you both know that, but it’s okay.
Trust me, trust me.
I love you.
a/n. literally wrote the last part half asleep and i hate the ending but... okay wow … i had a tough time writing this because i really wanted it to be taken slow and i’m not really sure how well it went … also this story might have been a bit a lot of a reflection of a friendship that went wrong in my own life LOL so this might be me playing out how i wish things ended up :/so anyways please sharing ur thoughts and like and reblog!
#scoups#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol smut#seungcheol drabble#seungcheol scenarios#scoups imagines#scoups x reader#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x you#svt smut#svt reactions#svt fanfic#svt scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen smut#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol imagine#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol smut#seungcheol angst#seventeen angst#svt angst#scoups angst#seventeen fluff#📝 writing
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• Protective dreamies •
♡ Dreamies being protective over you.
♡ Fluff x 100
♡ Dreamies are anxious
♡ haechan's a tad bit longer
[Requested]
Mark
~ he was always concerned for your safety, making sure to drop you everywhere. He was paranoid about his antifans potentially hurting you, so he ended up going overboard sometimes like not letting you go anywhere alone especially when he is on schedule. "Understand baby, I'm scared that someone might try to hurt you." he will be fine when you assure him that you will be careful while going out alone and always have your live location on. Will constantly call your family and friends to check on you when he is away.
Renjun
~ he tends to overthink a lot and gets upset when you don't pick up his phone right away. He needs to be away from you frequently due to his busy schedules so he feels bad that he isn't there to look after you. You not picking up his calls right away makes him take the next flight back to you in fear because what if someone broke in? Or worse kidnap you? "Sweetheart, we already talked about this? I don't like it when you keep your phone at random places." He is just a worried baby but you are always his perfect match to calm him down.
Jeno
~ he is a clingy lil baby, he always and ALWAYS needs to have his hand on you. Doesn't let you sit away from him even when you are out with your friend. Keeps his hand on you in risky public places as well. Guides you through very crowded places without letting you stop near any stall. You scolded him once for this once and he acts like the saddest puppy ever "Baby, what if you get lost? What if I never find you again?" Will carry you in his pocket if he could.
Haechan
~ I feel like Haechan would be very protective of the person he loves, is cautious of every other guy around you who acts even a bit sus. You guys go out for drinks every day and he double checks every drink before handing it you making the bartender annoyed as well because why tf would he try to spike your drink right infront of you? He would glare at any guy who looks at you for more than a second. Punched the shit out of a guy for groping you and got into a heated argument with your friends once for treating your feelings like shit "I don't care baby, no motherfucker can disregard you in such a way." He always has your back. You just need to keep his temper in check.
Jaemin
~ never makes you do any heavy chores, scolds you gently for eating junk all the time and God forbid if you ever get sick. He is gonna wrap you in a burrito and keep you in bed for days. If you get hurt he would gently coo on the spot and speak in a babyish tone. If you ever get annoyed, he will feel bad, and you will need to reassure him that you are never annoyed by his caring nature, and that it was just a spur of the moment. "You don't need to do all that princess when I'm right here to help you relax"
Chenle
~ Chenle loves spoiling you all the time and would want you to be with him everywhere he goes. He feels anxious when he has to go on tour without you, and would make amends to bring you with him. Everything you eat and use will always be double checked by him to make sure that they aren't expired or harmful. Would gently ask you to not trust any stranger blindly even if they act nice because they could be antifans. "Stop trying to eat the expired ice cream from the fridge princess. Let me order a new one." Will still join you sometimes to eat the expired ice cream just because it looked good.
Jisung
~ he is a big baby and is always afraid of hurting you. Will keep all the things on the counter for you to reach safely even if you are tall enough. Holds you so gently that you could barely feel his touch so you hold his hands on yours in a tight grip making him panic "What if you get hurt? I know baby you are not made of glass but still." He is just worried and will pull a dramatic skit if he sees you doing anything slightly dangerous.
#nct reactions#nct dream headcanons#nct headcanons#nct dream fake text#nct fake texts#nct dream reactions#nct dream fluff#nct mark#nct jaemin#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct x you#nct jeno#nct renjun#nct haechan#nct jisung#nct chenle#jeno fluff#jaemin fluff#haechan fluff#mark fluff#jisung fluff
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