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chvrryzpop · 3 months

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SERIAL KILLER

ghost face m. sturniolo x ghost face fem!reader

summary: Killing is fun when it comes to a little action after it…right?

warnings: dom!matt, smut, angst, swearing, blood, spanking, p in v, oral sex (fem!receiving), paraphilia, fingering, degrading kink, pet names, creampie, use of y/n, hair pulling, choking kink, edging, unprotected sex (do not).

not proofread!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You were running down the streets, your vision blurry by the fabric covering the mask you were wearing, feeling the cold breeze of the night hitting your entire body. A stinging sensation on your feet every time they stomped on the hard ground. Police sirens were encircling in the background, making the situation worse.

You thought that this was it, this is how the police would catch you, after months of doing this, this would be the moment that you were so afraid to come.

You made a turn on the right, a downtown neighborhood emerging on sight just a few miles away from you. This was a great sign for you, relief filling your body. You’re finally getting closer to your home, the police sirens getting quieter and quieter every step you take to get there.

You took your mask off and felt the cold breeze hitting your face, the strands of hair sticking on the sides of your sweaty face, and the numbness in your feet getting worse and worse with each step you took. The knife in your hand trying to slip off it.

Climbing through the cold metal ladder that you left against your room window makes you feel tingling sensations on the palm of your hands.

Finally, home sweet home, the police sirens stopped and the sun was rising from the sky. The mask that used to cover your face a few hours ago lying down on your desk with your knife beside it, stains of dried blood on both things.

Your neck also had a few stains of blood, you sat down at your desk, looking at yourself in the mirror using wipes to try and wipe off the blood on you. Until a sound made you jump up off your chair, taking the knife with you.

As you got closer and closer to where the sound was coming from, it became louder, big stomps on the ladder that you climbed just a few seconds ago.

A tall silhouette sitting on the edge of your window with the same disguise that you had, their big veiny hands gripping it to take it off, revealing their face.

It was Matt, your boyfriend.

You sighed out of relief, tossing the knife on the floor as Matt got inside your room, the blue hour making an aureole around his silhouette. “You fucking scared me, Matt!” to which he replied with a chuckle, getting closer to you.

“What? It’s not like I’m a serial killer or something.” The both of you began to laugh at the statement.

He wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him, “We almost got caught tonight.” He states, pulling a strand of hair out of your face, and checking it. The blood that covered his neck and a bit of his face was still fresh.

“Well, at least we got time to hide the evidence, didn't we?” Your lips now graze against his, making him bite your lower lip delicately. “Yes, we did.”

He pushed you down into your bed and began to kiss you around the neck, collarbone, and then lips, meeting them in a hungry kiss. His hands roam all over your body.

You lifted his shirt in a signal for him to take it off, a chain hitting your chin delicately, he then removed your dress revealing a crimson-red lingerie set on you, admiring the sight of your body lying down made him fuel his desire even more.

He shook his head a bit and smirked, “You little whore.” He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs wide open, fluttering kisses all over the exposed skin, shivers sending down your spine.

Wet kisses on your lower stomach until he got to your panties, biting the waistband as his eyes stared at yours. He looked like a lion ready to devour his prey.

Your breath was hitched, waiting impatiently for the bit of friction of his touch on you, your hips bucking up, provoking Matt to push them back on the mattress and pin them against it. “Please…” you plead.

“Please what?” He asks, removing your panties painfully slow, your toes curling a little at the smallest contact that he was giving you.

Words could barely let out of your mouth, you just needed him, you needed his touch and love for just a minute. “Touch me.” You breathed out, a dark chuckle coming from him as a response.

“You would like that, hm?.” His lips grazed on your wet cunt, shivers were sent down your spine by the action. “Y-yes.” You whine.

Matt twirled his tongue painfully slow in your wet folds, quiet moans coming out from you as he did so. His tongue was now playing on your sensitive bud, your back arching by the action, whimpers coming out from you and your hand now reaching for the back of his head. Entangling your fingers with a few locks of hair.

The way this man was driving you to the edge with his tongue was making you go insane, your grip on his hair got tighter each time his tongue swirled in your heat.

His groans vibrate through your entire body each time your grip tightens on his hair. His tongue switched from your sensitive nub to your entrance, teasing the tip of his top around it. “Please…please,” You muttered through gritted teeth. Matt finally gave you what you needed the most as a response.

Feeling his tongue thrusting in and out of you pushed you to the edge, sensing the ecstasy gain control over your entire body, letting out the loudest moans you've ever had in a while. The grip on the handful locks of hair loosens up to reach for the spot on the mattress next to you, your hands gripping the silk bedsheets, your knuckles turning white as you feel his tongue swirling in circles inside you.

“F-fuck!” You whined out, bucking your hips up so you could seek more contact with his tongue, Matt pining them back to against the mattress. He pulls away from your wet cunt to look at you, his free hand now gripping your jaw to look at him. “Do that one more time, Y/N and I swear to God I’ll fucking stop.” His tone was harsh.

You nodded desperately, needing him more than anything. Instead, he just stands up, looking down at you, his hand that was attached to your jaw now resting on his side looking down at you. He had the exact look in his eyes that you noticed just a few minutes ago.

That’s when all of a sudden you were now lying on your stomach on all fours, feeling the anxiousness and the need to feel your orgasm once again causing you to whine. A smack on your ass makes you squeal. “Look at you, being a whiny bitch for me.” He said, smacking your ass once more, gripping it afterward. “You like that, huh?” He asks a husky tone showing up in his voice.

You nodded, feeling his hand now gripping your hair and pulling your head as up as it could go, he leaned to whisper in your ear, “Words, use fucking words.”

“Y-yes, I l-like that.” You breathed out, Matt returning to his initial position, his grip on your hair never leaving. “Maybe this will teach you to use that little mouth of yours,” His fingers tease at your entrance, whines coming out from you as you feel his fingers now pumping in and out of you.

“O-oh, m-my God.” You cry out, tears forming in your eyes as his fingers keep hitting the right spot inside you, feeling the knot forming once again in your stomach. “I-I’m s-so c-close.” You muttered, feeling your walls clenching slightly.

“Fucking hold it,” Matt demands through gritted teeth as his fingers now were holding a new pace, causing you to hold onto the mattress, tears now streaming down your face. “I c-can’t.” You blurt, feeling your release closer and closer each time his fingers dug deep inside you. “Y/N, don’t you fucking dare.” He warns.

You shake your head as you feel your walls clenching around his fingers, your juices sprawled all over the bed and Matt’s fingers. He takes them out, a soft popping sound as he does so. “I’m sorry,” You said.

Smack.

“What the fuck did I just tell you? Hm?” He replied.

Smack.

You squeal, feeling the stinging sensation each time he spanked you. “I’m sorry.” You repeated.

“You've been behaving so badly tonight.” His lips made a tsk sound while walked around the room, picking up his knife, the floor now covered in a few stains of fresh blood. “Maybe…a little punishment will show you how to be a good girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat when you felt the cold blade against your skin, feeling the blood that covered it painting your back slightly, causing you to quiver at the chilling sensation. Tossing the knife somewhere on the floor.

His thumb is now on your mouth, savoring the salty iron flavor in your mouth, making you whine a bit. “Clean it off.” He demands.

You swirl your tongue around his thumb tasting the red liquid as if it were your last meal ever, not wasting a single drop of it. A popping sound when you finished cleaning out the blood around his thumb, licking your lips slightly as you chuckled. “Good girl,” Matt says.

All of a sudden you felt his cock deep inside you, forceful thrusts as one of his hands snakes to grip softly on your throat and the other one gripped your hip. You let out small groans, driving deep into your core with each stroke. His dick hammering deep inside you, hitting your g-spot each time he did so.

The tears were back again, the overstimulation making you feel weak, as you let out pornographic moans each time Matt picked up a harder pace at you. You whispered a few praises each time you felt closer and closer to your second orgasm of the night.

“You like that, don’t you? You fucking slut.” Another smack on your ass, your breathing getting hitched by his continuous motion.

Another harsh slap on your ass, the stinging sensation back again, and a red mark now forming where Matt had been slapping on. “Fuck.” He groans, the sound of their bodies slamming echoing around the room, the blue hour on the sky was fading away now.

Your vision began to get foggy, panting sounds coming out from you as he slammed himself deeper and deeper inside you, reaching all the right spots. “M-matt.” You moan out repeatedly. Feeling the well-known knot forming once again. His grip on your throat gets tighter as a signal that he’s also close to his release. “You feel so fucking tight.” He breathed out, slamming harshly into you, his nails digging into your skin.

You clench around his shaft, trembling by the pure ecstasy that you felt at that moment. Loud moans come out from you as your juices dripped out of you.

“F-fuck!” Matt whines as his hot cum fills you deep inside, his cock slipping out from you as a thin line of both of your juices trails around your entrance to his dick. The hold of his hand around your throat loosening slowly.

You let yourself fall on the mattress rolling to lie down on your back, huffing a little bit. Matt crawls to the spot next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“What about a good and long shower?” He asks softly, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he strokes your hair lightly.

You chuckled “Sounds good to me.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: This was kinda short but I liked it!

tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn @sturnioloslurps @cindylcuwhoknows @3mm4yung @mattsfavwh3re @blahbel668 @lov3bug @ilovethesturniolotriplets @junnniiieee07 @mstarniolo @sara2233445 @mbbsgf @thecynthh @mattsturnioloisbae @will-yummy @braindead4l @freshsturns

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snackhobi · 4 years

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summary: namjoon worships you, only you, and would dedicate his life and soul to show you the depths of his love and devotion.

pairing: namjoon x f!reader / word count: 2.1k / genre: smut (NSFW, 18+), warlock!namjoon/patron!reader, sort of a fantasy!au

warnings: sexually explicit content, religious imagery/talk of worship and blasphemy, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, talk of magic (does that need to be a warning)

this is part of my 1.1k milestone event!

a/n: @ whoever it was on my google survey who wanted to see a fantasy!au and also wanted to see more stuff with namjoon- this is dedicated to you! I swore I wasn’t going to even think about things for my 1.1k milestone but I saw your response and immediately got hit with inspo; I’m sure this isn’t what you were asking for when you said fantasy but! I hope you like it anyway! unbeta-ed bc I smashed this out in an afternoon and @hobi-gif is asleep rn and I’m impatient OOPS

“You give me too much.”

“Oh?” The sound of your voice, heavenly, shining. Dripping with amusement. Affection. “You would spurn my favour?”

“Never,” Namjoon whispers. A confession, each word a benediction. “Never, my lady.”

The sound of your laughter, smooth and light. You tilt your head, bare the unspoiled column of your neck, shimmering, glimmering, glittering. Your skin shines with the finest fragrant oils, dusted with ground gold leaf, iridescent. Your body gilded and girded, as always, in the finest cloth and metal and jewels, reclining, utterly at ease. Glowing with your divine power; divine grace.

Divine beauty.

Divine.

Namjoon is blessed, to have you as his Patron.

For all that his words are audacious, you do not strike him down. Him, a mere mortal, sworn to your service; you’ve always allowed him space to speak, to talk. Far more than he deserves, nothing better than the dust under your feet, marring the ground that should be unblemished and clean for you.

“I wish but to reward you, dearest,” you murmur, and a shiver trickles down Namjoon’s spine.

His soul is sworn to yours in a never-ending pact, magic tied intrinsically to you, his Patron, his Goddess, the source of his power. A warlock whose oath promises his utter devotion—blessed, he truly is blessed to be able to call himself yours. Where others had given their souls to the dark beings of the nether, begging for power, strength—here Namjoon is, in your heavenly aureole, not fey nor fiend, but a deity.

His deity.

“I would never be so presumptuous, my lady,” says Namjoon.

“And I would reward you for your humility. Is that not what you want, Namjoon? Is that not why you swore yourself to me? To be rewarded with the powers that you now command?”

Namjoon is monstrously powerful, now. He’s always been intelligent and sharp and quick, but now—with you at his shoulder—he’s far, far more than that. The fabric of the universe picks itself apart at his will, with your guiding hand, and reforms itself as he sees fit. Mere mortals tremble as he passes, a behemoth draped in endless strength, so strong it shines out from him, always.

An endless reminder of his devotion to you.

He’d always chased knowledge. Found himself still ravenous for it, even after plundering the world’s greatest libraries, learning from the best and brightest, from wizards in their lofty towers to witches in haunted forests; it had set him on this path. Had led him to opening this connection, creating this pact, binding himself to your will, all in the pursuit of more, more, more. His parents had always warned him to be careful, cautious, not to ask for more than the world was willing to give—but the world hadn’t blessed him with magic, for all his intelligence.

So he’d looked for magic in an otherworldly place.

And there: he’d found you.

There, he’d sworn his being to your will, for just a drop of your power. He’d laid himself down at your mercy and you’d given him all the strength he’d never wanted and more besides. Given him more than he’d asked for, more than he deserves, frail and mortal and weak that he is.

“I would give my soul just to lay myself at your feet, my lady,” Namjoon confesses.

You smile. So pleased with him, always; it leaves him breathless, even as his knees ache from kneeling, marble cold and hard under him. Your eyes are the only ones he prostrates himself in front of, now. You are the only one he will kneel for.

And oh, he kneels so willingly. Would worship you on his belly if that’s what you asked, would crawl in the dirt if that’s what you wished; would give you everything he has and more, hand over fist, if he could. Utterly beholden to you, bewitched, body and soul.

You are benevolent to him, for all that your smiles are edged with something almost irreverent, a mockery of the shining halo that’s settled atop your head. A trickster God, maybe, an ancient being long gone from the history books, your name etched into wax tablets that have long since crumbled to dust, carvings sat atop pedestals that have been long eroded to time.

He might have cared, once. Might have sought to find you, your name, find out what exactly you are, what the price he is to pay for the power you give him. But now?

Namjoon finds he no longer cares, enthralled as he is.

“Then come, my love,” you murmur. “Closer.”

Namjoon trembles. When he kneels at your feet, head tilted, staring at your bared skin, the arch of your feet, the jut of your ankles, the smoothness of your calves, the swell of your thighs before they’re hidden away from his roaming eyes by the drape of linen; he trembles. He is so close he can touch you, can smell you, the fragrance massaged into your body, heady and dizzying.

“Worship me, then,” you say, that ever-present smile on your lips.

“I would not dare touch you, my lady,” Namjoon says.

You throw your head back and laugh. Namjoon stares at the line of your bare throat, the slope of your breasts, curves barely hidden, blindingly white robe slipping as your gold painted shoulders shake in mirth. White and gold, gold and white, unflawed, perfect.

“Are you so afraid of me?”

“Never.” Namjoon’s heart is pounding, pulsing in his ears. “I dare not defile you with my unworthy hands.”

“And if I commanded you so?” An eyebrow, raised, a question. “Would you refuse your Goddess her dues?”

“I am not worthy,” Namjoon says, even as he aches. Even as you spread your legs, draping cloth keeping you just safe from his eyes, hungry as they are. “I would dirty you, my lady.”

“Such as it is.” Your voice is low, almost gleeful. Delighted. “Touch me, Namjoon.”

He kisses your feet first. Bows his head, lips trembling as he presses them to the top arch of your foot. Your ankles. Lets his eyes flutter shut as he trails his unworthy lips across your warm skin, pressing his devotion into your body with his mouth.

And when you beckon for him with a lazy curl of your hand, he goes, so easily. Pulls off each of your rings, lets them fall, bright rain that falls forgotten to cool marble. Casts aside the circlet on your head, spinning as it lands on cold stone. Pulls his hands across your bare collarbones, pulls your robe apart, pulls your naked body out into the open.

There’s no shame here, in your nakedness, majestic and proud, every inch of your body swathed with heavy, divine power.

Your lips are cocked in a smile. You blink up at him, lazy and slow and content, amused at his shaking fingers and almost-slack mouth, overwhelmed.

“Am I so awe-inspiring?”

“The moon and stars and sun shine less than your beauty,” Namjoon murmurs, and you laugh.

He falls to his knees. Buckles in the face of your strength and beauty, as he always does. Always will.

When he presses his head between your legs, you moan. The smell of your arousal thrums under the jasmine rubbed into your skin, an orgy in a summer garden, and you taste so human, gasping at the first swipe of his tongue through your folds. You scrape your fingers through his hair, pressing him deeper; Namjoon feels he could die happy, here, between your thighs, so blessed and favoured, to be allowed to worship you, as perfect as you are. His cock hardens between his legs, ignored and neglected, so focused and intent on you. Forgets himself in the face of giving you everything you demand.

Beckoned into the embrace of something holy, here he is, defiling you with each curl of his tongue, each touch of his fingers. And he willingly commits these transgressions, reverent even as you come apart under his touch, venerating you as an idol, rather than a Goddess. Drinks down the way you shake in pleasure, pupils blown and swallowing your beautiful irises, your piercing gaze lust-hazed.

“You worship your Goddess well,” you praise.

And when you push him down onto your throne, astride his hips with glittering eyes and an arched back, Namjoon thinks this is profane. Thinks that he should not feel so starved or deprived, even as you sink down on him, tight and hot and wet. And yet each gasp he pulls from you is a blessing from the divine, for all that this is carnal, the slap of skin on skin, the thrust of his cock into your fluttering cunt.

Even the kisses you share are a violation of you; he is not worthy to touch you, to press his lips against yours. But you urge him to, urge him to lick at your mouth, bite at your lips, kiss-swollen and flush, parted as you pant into his open, willing mouth.

You throw your head back in ecstasy. Each lilting noise pulled from your lips goes straight to Namjoon’s throbbing cock, blood thrumming in his veins as he thrusts up into you, chasing your pleasure, pliant under the scratch of your fingernails, the grasp of your hands.

“Do you—oh—do you love your Goddess, Namjoon?”

“To not do so would be blasphemy.” It’s graceless, the way he speaks, grunts slipping out between gritted teeth. Utterly human and base as you take him, ride him, reach inside and wrap your fingers around his heart and soul, already yours. As if your naked skin pressed against each other isn’t blasphemy enough; your movements in the throes of passion and ecstasy isn’t sacrilegious.

You keep your eyes trained on Namjoon’s face, bracing your fingertips on his sweat-slick chest as you arch back, imperious and regal; Namjoon might have taken you apart with his fingers and tongue, but you’re the mistress of this kingdom and you know it.

When you trail a finger over the swell of Namjoon’s reddened, plush bottom lip, it feels almost taunting. The gesture itself might be soft, tender—but Namjoon remembers that he doesn’t know what you’re a Goddess of, all over again. Remembers that he doesn’t know the source of your power, what you really are, that he doesn’t even know your true name.

(Remembers that he doesn’t know if you’re a Goddess at all.)

(He remembers. Doesn’t care. You’re his Goddess, before you are anything else. You’re his Goddess and he is devoted to you, forever, always.)

“Mine.” You suck in a breath, air punched out of you as Namjoon slams into you again, hard and sharp and fast, sullying you. His palms are covered in gold, smeared over your body and his, the carved marble of the throne underneath you. Dirty; tarnished. “Mine, mine, you’re mine, little mortal, aren’t you?”

Namjoon is utterly yours.

“Yours,” he moans. “Yours, my lady, I’m yours.”

You laugh even as you cum again, hiccupping as you grin at him, wicked and sharp. You’re so tight around him, hot around his aching cock, and it doesn’t take long to lose himself in your heat, painting your insides; defiling even there, too. The proof of Namjoon’s impure touch dribbles down your thigh as you lift away, sated, your smile all edged with teeth.

“My most loyal follower, humblest of my servants.” You trail a cool finger around his face, through the sweat at his brow, dirtying your hands even more. And yet, in Namjoon’s eyes you still shine, untouched and perfect, his wonderful Goddess. “Oh, your soul always tastes so sweet, Namjoon. Will you always worship me with such piety? Will you always come when I call?”

To know his taste lingers on your tongue, even when he’s not there, fills him with pride. Flows in his chest, swelling in size, pressing against his ribs and lungs and heart, squeezing those delicate parts so tight, squashing them small. There’s no room for anything inside him other than devotion for you.

“Always,” Namjoon replies. “I would always be your most favoured, if you wished.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Namjoon confesses. “Yes, my lady, with all that I am.”

Would spend the rest of his days on his hands and knees at the base of your shrine, lay out offerings at your feet. Would lay himself on your altar, a willing sacrifice. Would let you tear him apart and swallow his still beating heart; it’s yours, anyway. He doesn’t need it anymore.

Yes, Namjoon loves you. Most ardently. Even if it comes with a price: his soul, bound to yours, forever.

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#btswritingcafe #houseofddaeng #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon oneshot #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts smut #namjoon au #namjoon scenario #1.1k milestone #joy.masterlist

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shedobewritingalittle · 4 years

Text

Wires (Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Reader is traumatized by something she sees while at work and Javier tries to console her

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of death of a child, blood, talks of death, violence

In any other situation, he would've commented on how pretty she looked in this moment.

She was sitting in the middle bathtub, knees pulled against her chest. Her chin resting on her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Her hair was soaked and clung to her face. Instead of turning on her bright bathroom lights, she had just opened the blinds. Bright neon pink lights from a sign nearby streamed in through the window, painting her nude body hot pink. In any other situation, he would have chided her for leaving her window open when she was in the bathtub, but not tonight, not after what had happened an hour or two earlier.

They had been chasing after a sicario and Y/N was in front of both Steve and Javi, right on the man's heels. When she finally got him cornered, he grabbed a kid-a little girl that was no older than eight that had been standing in her doorway. Y/N hadn't seen her, not until the child was right in front of her, a gun point at the kid’s temple. The little girl had started crying, screaming for her parents. Y/N pleaded with the man to let the kid go and was still begging by the time Javi and Steve had reached the scene. She had moved just a step closer, trying her best to deescalate the situation, just like they taught her at the academy. The movement didn't help at all, it only agitated the man. Before she could fire her gun, the sicario fired his. She has heard hundreds of gunshots-probably even more-but this time, it seemed like it was deafening. It felt like this gunshot would shatter her eardrums.

Y/N had been around death before this situation. She's killed more people that she would ever like to admit. She's seen more people killed right before her eyes than any normal person should, but this moment was different. The little girl fell to the floor in slow motion. Blood had splattered on Y/N's face and for the first time in her career, she froze as the sicario turned the gun on her. Javi wasn't going to let her die, not on his watch. He had shot the man before the situation could get any worse, the bullet landing in the man's forehead.

Both Javier and Steve have never seen Y/N freeze like that in the couple of years they've all been working together. Javier was the one who made his way towards his partner, who was still frozen in place. Y/N didn't even look at him when he stepped in front of her, trying to talk to her. Her eyes just stayed on the little girl, her ears still ringing from the gunshot.

It was clear that Y/N was in shock. She wouldn't say a thing, wouldn't respond to anything anyone would say to her. Javier couldn't stand seeing her in this state. He told Steve that he was going to take Y/N home. The man had completely understood it, told him that he would catch a ride with Carrillo. Javi drove Y/N back to their shared apartment building in silence. He didn't want to push her, didn't want to make her talk because he knew it wouldn't help anything. If anything, it would just make the whole thing worse. Javi walked her inside and to her door, promising her that he'd be back. He made she went inside, telling her to go shower. Then he came back, a bottle of wine and takeout from the Chinese place around the corner in tow.

And now, he was here.

Javi didn't speak as he kicked off his shoes. Didn't say a word as he pulled his belt through the loops, letting it fall along with his jeans. His socks were toed off, boxers slid off. His yellow button up shirt was carefully unbuttoned as he walked towards Y/N, letting it join her work clothes that were already on the floor. He carefully (well as carefully as he possibly could) slid in behind her. The warm water splashed at the sides of the tub, some of it spilling out onto the ground as he tried to settle in behind her. Y/N stiffened, like she had only just realized that he was in the same room as her.

"Hey, hey it's just me." Javier tells her. Y/N's body relaxes as his arms wrap around her, pulling her against him. She leaned back onto his chest, one of her hands moving to hold onto his hand that was resting on her stomach. Javi held onto her hand tightly, kissing the top of her head. It's not the first time they've sat in her bathtub like this, but usually the mood is different. It's usually lighthearted and fun, playful even. Now, Javi just wanted to make sure she was okay.

Workplace relationships were prohibited at the DEA, the two of them know that. They've been sneaking around like this for almost a year now and no one around them were none the wiser.

They've been hiding it better than the Gentlemen of Cali hide where they get a good amount of their money from. Of course it was difficult for them to hide how they felt about each other. However with their line of work-well it was their best bet to keep it a secret. It wasn't just that they'd get in trouble for being together, but they were also terrified that something would happen to the other. In this situation, both Y/N and Javier were glad that they had this relationship, something they could turn to when shit hits the fan.

"I got you the wine you like, cariño. And takeout from the place around the corner." Javi informs her, his thumb rubbing circles onto her hand. She nods in response. He looks down at her, seeing that her face is slightly discolored, like she had scrubbed it raw. Y/N felt him staring at her and looked up at him, eyes all watery. She's been crying.

"I-I needed to get her blood off of me and it wouldn't go away." Her voice is raw, her words practically a whisper. His hand moves to cup her cheek, trying to be careful with her now very sensitive skin. In any other situation, he would've joked about how he wanted to pull out a Polaroid and capture her in this moment, but not right now.

"I know, baby. I know." Javi responds, his eyes focused on her. Y/N sniffles, laying her head back down on his chest. He smoothes out her hair, trying to ease her nerves. Javier has seen her upset before, but this was different. The water was now room temperature, but it was cold enough for goosebumps to litter her skin. He kissed her head again as he says, "We need to get you out of here, hermosa. Don't want you to get hypothermia."

She didn't respond as Javi stands up, lifting her up with him. He steps out of the tub, almost slipping on the wet tile. Javi doesn't need any light to find where she keeps the towels since he's been spending practically every single night. Javi knows her apartment better than his own. He quickly wraps a towel around his waist before returning to Y/N with another in his arms. The bright pink light surrounded her body like an aureole. He always told her that she was an angel and right now, she surely looked the part. The DEA agent wraps the towel around her shoulders, helping her as she steps out of the bathtub. He guides her out of the bathroom and into her bedroom.

Javier moves around the room, getting her a pair of underwear and a shirt that she had stolen from him in the first month they had gotten together. He hands them to her, letting Y/N dress herself while he pulls on a pair of pajama pants that were in the drawer that she had especially for his things. When he turns back around, she's dressed and waiting for him. Together, they walk into the living room and then the kitchen. Y/N moves to sit down at her kitchen table, her eyes focused on her hands.

Javi has seen his share of fucked up things in his life, but something like a kid getting shot right in front of you? Of course that will fuck anyone up and Y/N was understandably taking it hard. All Javier could do-as her partner and her boyfriend-was make sure that he was there for her. So, he made her plate and poured her a glass of coffee her favorite wine.

"You don't have to do this, you know." Y/N tells him as he puts the dish and glass down in front of her. Her eyes are red and irritated when they look up at him. Javi wonders how many times she had cried between the moment he had dropped her off and when he had showed up at her apartment. The thought of it made something ache inside of him, but he'll never admit that. Well, maybe not to anyone else, but to Y/N, he's an open book.

"I know. Just let me, yeah? Just let me take care you." He responds before walking back over to the kitchen. Javier grabs a bottle of beer from the fridge, grabbing at bottle opener from a drawer. He cracks it open before making himself a plate.

"Thank you, Javi." Y/N replies, picking up her glass of wine and taking a sip from it. It warmed her heart that he had done all of this for her, going out of his way like that. She wanted to say more than just 'thank you', but that's all that she could get out. Javier stopped his actions, a small smile on his face as he watched her start to eat.

"It's no problem, Y/N." He takes his plate and the bottle of beer to the table. Javi sits down next to her, raising the bottle to his lips. For a few minutes, they ate in silence. He should be making her drink water instead of wine, especially with all the crying she's done, but he isn't going to push her. Javier was here to take care of Y/N and he was sure as hell going to that very thing. So he just kept his mouth shut and ate.

"I can't stop seeing her face, Javi. Every time I close my eyes I-She was so scared and I-I didn't do anything." Y/N breaks the silence, looking over to him. There's tears in her eyes again and God, Javi hates seeing her so upset. He swallows hard, trying to figure out what to say before he opens his mouth.

"It's not your fault, Y/N. You tried your best." He tries, reaching out to put his hand over hers. Tears roll down her cheeks as her free hand traced something on the table.

"It wasn't good enough-I wasn't good enough. She was a kid, she was someone's baby and she-" Her throat tightens with emotion and she covers her mouth. Javi felt like he was being stabbed in his chest as the sight of her like this. He quickly got up and kneeled in front of her. His hand cupped her cheek, forcing Y/N to look him.

"Hey, don't say that. Don't do that to yourself, Y/N. You tried your best and you did what you could. What that piece of shit did-that's not on you. I need you to understand that, okay? What happened isn't on you." Javier tells her, his other hand holding her hand tightly. His thumb wipes away her fallen tears as she sniffles. The hand that is holding hers brings it up to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. The away his mustache tickles her skin makes the corner of her mouth turn upwards slightly.

"You're getting awfully soft on me, Peña. What would Murph and Carrillo think, huh?" Y/N jokes, trying to lighten the situation somewhat. Javi cracks a smile, shaking his head at her. He sure as hell wouldn’t be caught dead kneeling in front of any other woman, kissing her hand like they were in some stupid romantic comedy or telenovela that Y/N had forced him to watch. Javier couldn’t help it. She just brought all of the corny shit out of him.

"They wouldn't believe you, cariño. Not even in the slightest." He retorts, kissing her hand again. They both know that the two men wouldn't even think that Javier and Y/N were in a relationship with the way they behaved around each other at work, let alone believe Javier was a big sweetheart who had memorized the most trivial things about Y/N. Hell, they still believed that Javier is sleeping his way through Medellín.

"Will you stay with me tonight, Javi? Please?" She asks, her slight smile fading away. Y/N has never asked him to spend the night (outside of the first night they had spent together), he just always does. He knows why she's asking for him to stay with her tonight. Javier nods as he moves to sit back in his seat, still holding her hand.

"Of course, Y/N."

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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divineecelestial · 4 years

Text

Out of Your League

PAIRINGS — BUCKY BARNES X READER

SERIES SUMMARY — IN WHICH BUCKY BARNES GAINS A CRUSH ON A WOMAN SO OUT OF HIS LEAGUE.

PROLOGUE —

You exhaled through your nose as you surveyed the highlighted documents with concentrated eyes. The fluorescent pink marker was clutched in your hand, occasionally twirling between your fingers and an assortment of glitter pens were grouped on the edge of your desk in a refined manner. Structuring the documentation of your previous mission in chronological order was becoming overbearingly time-consuming. You had analyzed the papers multiple times, each time coming across something you had initially overlooked.

You closed the highlighter, suddenly aware of the overwhelming smell. Gathering your attention to the crystal clear panel of windows, you observed the shining sunbeams that poured into your office like molten gold. The sun was lowering beneath the horizon, the multi-colored evening looked picturesque, like a painting you had seen when you visited the Louvre with Natasha when you were briefly stationed in France. You were hypnotized from the different shades and hues. They distracted you even if it was for a moment.

You sighed. The vivid images you had seen when you were taken to the building where the dozens of innocent women were kept were haunting you. You couldn’t erase the visualization constructing inside your head. Those women were swaying from a drug-induced haze, unfamiliar with the person they had forcefully transformed into. When you helped each and every single one of them out, it made your stomach churn. They grasped onto you tightly as you brought them outside, watching them inhale fresh air. They seemed afraid to release you, fearing if they let go, they would be brought back inside. You didn’t mind as they threw themselves onto yourself, desperate for friendly intimacy that wasn’t pressured onto them as they sobbed black streams onto your clothes.

A knock pulled you from your heavy thoughts. You were thankful for the momentary distraction. The severity of the memories wasn’t an enjoyable experience when you drifted into those consuming recollections. You placed your highlighter down, pushing away from your desk and over to where the modernistic door was. You opened the door, welcomed with the small smile from Steve Rogers. You returned the gleaming expression until your eyes drifted onto his wardrobe. A noticeable frown replaced the former and you whirled on your heel, leaving the door open for him to follow. “Do you wear anything other than plain t-shirts and faded jeans,” You asked, your back towards him as you rearranged your investigation board. With the newfound information you gathered from the mission, you were attempting to finish making the connections. The red strings were filling the board that connected all your leads together like a blood-red web. The thought made you uneasy. “Tomorrow I’m going shopping and you’re coming with me.” You unpinned a photograph and replaced it with another, a thoughtful expression plastered. You had a neon pink pen between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed with concentration. “But I’m guessing you didn’t come here to have your fashion sense evaluated, so what do you need?”

Steve, who was more amused by your candor and directness than offended, removed his gaze from the organized board and glanced to where Bucky stood beside him. “I thought you should meet someone.” The long-haired Sergeant didn’t seem to notice the glimpse he earned from his childhood friend. There were several characteristics Steve discovered from the former Winter Soldier as he slowly recovered into the person he had been once before—one of those being he didn’t express a single flicker of emotion if that’s what he wanted. His sculpted face was accustomed to remaining cold and impassive, which was something he was learning to disregard with Steve. It wasn’t easy, truth be told. But, it was impressive how apathetic he could appear if that’s what he sought. In this instance, Bucky maintained the stolid look except for the momentary waver in his eyes as you tossed your hair over your shoulder and finally faced your blonde-haired and long-time friend. Steve hardly noticed the crack of disregard before he recovered himself. It was subtle, barely detectable, but it was there.

Your doe eyes fluttered to where Bucky’s stoical and overwhelmingly tall figure stood and you smiled. The sunlight spilled into the room, allowing an aureole to encircle around you and you glowed with yellow beams from the colorful sunset. Bucky’s knees could’ve buckled at that moment. Realization dawned upon your graceful face and you laughed airily, raising a hand to your forehead. “I completely forgot,” You admitted bashfully. You walked around your desk and the piles of papers and offered your hand, adorned with well-manicured fingers and twinkling jewelry. “I’m (Y/N). And you’re the Bucky Barnes.” You didn’t seem afraid or uncomfortable. The way you said his name was alleviating. You didn’t speak to him with hidden revulsion or unfortunate sympathy and pity. You said his name with genuine sweetness. As if you were thrilled to meet him. Bucky decided that he liked his name most when you said it.

He didn’t immediately reciprocate the gesture, not entirely comfortable. You took notice and didn’t express any form of dissatisfaction. After a moment, he slowly interlaced your hands, he was diligent on never using his metal arm and shook. Your hand was soft and warm, dainty against his calloused one. His grasp was initially firm and solid, then eased as he realized there wasn’t a need for intimidation. He found the simple action a little difficult. He wasn’t used to gentle touch. But he offered a strained, yet genuine, smile. He was trying. You tilted your head, a fond gleam in your eye. Steve glanced between you both, a ghostly smirk as he observed the unexpected interaction. Steve knew you and he also knew when you were purposely being charming. Bucky didn’t stand a chance.

You noticed Steve’s enlightened gaze as you released his hand and you raised your shoulders in a shrug innocently. “What,” You rhetorically asked, “I’m a sucker for the tall, dark, and brooding type.” And he chuckled at your frankness. Bucky blinked, a slight tinge of flushness overtaking his cheeks as he realized you were referring to him. Back when he used to be the older version of himself, he might’ve known what to say, or respond with an equally flirtatious remark that would have had you swooning into his arms. But now? He only swallowed the lump lodged in his throat with unsure eyes.

Steve smiled, entirely amused. “If you’re done flirting, can we get to our meeting? Tony won’t like that we’re late.”

You rolled your eyes as you dismissed the observation with a loose hand wave. Tony definitely wouldn’t be pleased with your late attendance, but you didn’t seem to mind the possibility. “Tony can wait. Bucky’s much more interesting,” And he was. Aside from your obvious attraction towards him, you were invested in the chronicles of James Buchanan Barnes and his forced contribution to HYDRA. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t read all the stories of the man who rose through the military ranks in the 107th Infantry Regiment and a member of the Howling Commandos. “I think my attention should be focused on giving our guest here a warm welcome.”

“It’s your mission we’re debriefing. You’re kind of needed there.” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest.

He wasn’t wrong. You had been the one directing the mission and it was your task to debrief them about the new information you discovered and discuss your next strategy. “Fine. But you’ll join us, won’t you, Bucky?” Your voice was dangerously sweet, like the tempting fragrance of the forbidden apple. He looked over where you leaned against the doorframe, the files and color-coordinated papers in between your forearm and chest. You had a lazy beam tugging at your rosy-colored lips. It didn’t seem like you were asking. It was as if you already knew the answer. Of course, he was coming.

Bucky cleared his throat, glimpsing at Steve with uncertain regard, who didn’t appear opposed to the suggestion. If anything, it seemed that he was encouraging him to join. It would have been good for him to interact with someone other than Steve. “If you don’t mind.” His voice was husky, dreamlike even. As he spoke, he had difficulty removing his wondrous eyes from you. Your delicate gaze glistened with an obvious softness you didn’t bother to hide.

You hummed, your eyes wandering over his wonderfully sculpted frame. Bucky refused to expose how unfamiliar this attention was making him incredibly flustered. It was confusing and slightly uncomfortable, but, God, he liked it. There was no doubt that it had been a very long time since anyone had looked at him the way you were looking at him—something other than a monster and it was unsettling in a gratifying way. “Not at all,” You said, pushing yourself off the doorframe. You clapped your palms together, purpose plastered on your beautiful face. “So, an introduction to our previous mission successfully completed by yours truly.” You closed your office door and both of the men followed after you as you smoothly strolled through the corridors with your pink glitter pen between your ear and hair.

“Over a month ago, there was a college student who happened to witness an illegal transaction and, because it’s the twenty-first century, they recorded the interaction on their phone and it wasn’t soon after that SHIELD discovered their whereabouts and I was assigned to the case.” As you explained the complicated timeline, Bucky listened intently to your soft voice and examined his surroundings with keen eyes. It eased him to be aware of the unfamiliar environment, but as he quickly memorized the outlay, he became acutely aware of the effect you had on the people around. Starry-eyed and dazed gazes followed you as you blissfully laughed with Steve. It wasn’t only lust, it was obvious admiration and appreciation. You were well-known around here. “And then I killed him.” She finished nonchalantly. He didn’t know how you managed to explain a calculated murder with rattling ease.

And as you tucked your hair behind your ear with a warm smile as your gaze glittered like fountains of ambrosia, that’s when Bucky knew he was screwed.

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slytherinspired · 7 years

Text

“Tell Me About” Prequel - A Sirius Black Imagine

Hi! Yes, another Sirius imagine! Oopsie. Remember I sort of told you I was writing a prequel for the “tell me about” series? Well, I’m not sure this is it, but it’s at least a part of it :)

Pairing : Young Sirius Black x Slytherin Reader where they despised each other until...

Warnings : Definitely smut. Smut. Smut.

Masterlist

Intrinsic, one for another, a penchant for the forbidden, there is no censorship that counts for you and me.

A smile, sweeping away the gloomy looks, nothing exists outside our two bodies overturned.

Although immortality is a burden, a poisoned gift, I feel, I know, that a fraction of a second in your presence consumes me enough to die and revive.

Y/N walked quietly into the Potter's house. Some random guy had spilled his sour beer on her little black dress, the one she had found during a stay with her grandparents earlier that summer. She had had a thunderbolt for it, the silk was delicate and highlighted her porcelain skin. She was desperately searching for the bathroom, to clean up the bitter liquid that was beginning to evaporate. It was not so much for the damage, given the colour of the dress, nothing was visible, but rather to rinse the annoying smell that tickled her nostrils.

She did not know that house, had never set foot in it before that evening. "Upstairs" Remus had told her when she asked for the bathroom, just before he got lost behind the tide of people who assaulted every corner of the cottage. She walked into the corridor with her arms crossed on her chest, hesitating before opening the first door at the top of the stairs. When she opened it, she turned on the switch. The master bedroom was modest and quiet. Y/N suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if this interruption in the blatant absence of the Potters would bring her trouble. She closed the door with a sigh, then ventured a little further. To her left was another door. There was no one but her upstairs, as if that part of the house was too intimate for someone to venture into it. With a blow, she opened the door and found herself, once more, in unknown territory. However, there was something familiar in that particular room. The hearty smell of Hogwarts transgressed the heavy and humid heat of the end of August. To her left, against the wall was a messy bed in which the colours of the Gryffindor house reigned. Banners representing the latter shone with pride on every corner of the room.

"Typical James Potter," Y/N muttered to herself. It was indeed a teenager's room. Some clothes were lying on the floor. That kid was clearly sloppy. "What are you doing in my room?" said someone, pushing her from the door frame.

She jumped in surprise and recognized Sirius. He had avoided her all night long. It wasn't surprising, given the fact that both hated each other with so much intensity that when she got the invitation to the party, she hesitated longly before thinking about going, knowing James' best friend would be attending. "Your room?" replied Y/N, surprised. She was taken aback, maybe Sirius was speaking figuratively. Since he was James's closest friend, maybe they thought everything they owned was shared? "Yes, my room. Were you looking for something or were you just spying like the sneaky snake you are?" Y/N swooned back.

"I was just looking for the bathroom." Sirius pointed at the opposite door. "There, now, get out." "I can't believe you...You have a room here?" "Yes ..." he replied, with a detached face, as if it was obvious. "I thought you lived with your parents." Sirius scoffed. But his face became colder, as if he were trying to hide something. His eyes had darkened. "Why do you care?" he replied, pulling her from the doorway. "You're such a messy person," she said, pushing Sirius to take a closer look at his lair. "Y/L/N, you're such a pain in the ass! Get out of here!" "So, this is where you plan all of your stupid ideas?" she answered, not even caring about what he had to say. She sat on his dresser. "I said get out of here!" he exclaimed, walking straight to her.

Entering his privacy, while the previous year he had done everything to pull her out of her hinges, in the only purpose to bug her, was a almost like a little personal revenge. "No, I think I'm going to sleep here tonight. You know, to get back at you at some point."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and smirked. Rather than ignite and start to yell at Y/N, as he used to do, he smiled. "Well, I do not mind, but I mumble in my sleep and move a lot. It's going to be the worst night you've ever experienced." She laughed. "I'm sure that's what every girl that you sleep with would say the same." Sirius, insulted and annoyed, took a pillow from the bed and threw it at her. "Hey!" she cried, laughing. He moved towards her and leaned down to look her straight in the eyes. "Then spend the night with me, I'll prove you wrong." A moment of silence. The tension was at its height. Of course, he had spent the previous year hating her by force, because she represented Slytherin, but also because despite the fact that he despised her, she was all that he had seen more than perfect. And while he stared at her, clinging on to her lips, waiting for her reaction, he imagined the most explicit scenarios, forced to admit to himself how much he had often thought of her, moaning his name and how her hips would swing on his, how her chest would bounce while she was riding him. And how he wanted to break her at the same time, spit in her face, because he hated her as much as he was attracted to her. No, he did not hate her, he thought while staring into her emerald eyes. He hated himself for being tempted by her, for not being able to repel the force of attraction that had sparked since the first time he laid eyes on her. And the way she had to make herself unattainable, untouchable. It drove him crazy.

Her reaction was latent. She seemed to think about it subtly. For she would never have acknowledged out loud that she found him simply irresistible. That she had sometimes given herself pleasure by silently sighing his name in an almost intentional shame. That she had fantasized several times on his slender fingers curved into her with that terrible smirk hidden between her thighs. "In your dreams” she finally replied. She turned suddenly and walked slowly to the door, hesitating.

The electricity in the air was palpable. Something had happened, a common agreement between the two. Sirius' words were playing non-stop in her head and a tickling sensation tortured her inter-thighs. "Then spend the night with me, I'll prove you wrong." She felt a hand take her by the waist and bring her back against Sirius' body, where she did not even try to get rid of the sudden grip. There was nothing but the fire that consumed her and the touch that burned her. Sirius bent abruptly and pressed his lips against hers. He had never kissed anyone so violently, it was as if he devoured her while his stomach asked for more. He had so much desired to taste her. Y/N's hands wandered along Sirius' chest, lifting his shirt, which fell silently at their feet. She took off his embrace, looked at him quietly. Sirius was no longer that frail teenager, or perhaps it was his nakedness, out of the conventional uniform she had known him, that gave her that impression. He had taken body mass, and the little dark hair line that started from below his navel made its way to the birth of his underwear. She watched his body in silence, considering each particle offered to her by his partial nudity. She took a deep breath, trying to catch her breath. Time had stopped, she had forgotten how to breathe.

Sirius grabbed her face almost violently, then smacked his lips on Ellie's, again, uncovering the boundaries of her body, through the silk she was wearing. Each curve, every bare patch made him want to sink more and more until he disappeared completely within her core. He craved her so badly. Slowly, his fingers paraded along her thighs, holding back with them the dress she wore, higher and higher. She abruptly stopped kissing him, left his grip to pass the dress over her shoulders. Her long black hair covered her chest, but Sirius clearly distinguished the fine pink aureoles concealed behind her jet black mane. He thought he was losing his mind, lifted Y/N off the floor and, while kissing her, sat her on the edge of his bed. In an emergency, she undid the belt loop of his pants and unbuttoned it. The jeans fell to the ground. She kissed his belly with lust, going lower and lower. But Sirius could not stand it anymore.

Without a word, he pushed her gently so that she found herself on her back. Her hair had fallen on the mattress and left her chest completely uncovered. "You're so ... perfect," he said in a surge of euphoria. He leaned forward, rested on his forearms and kissed her again. He could not believe what was going on. He had this sense of urgency in him, as if his entire existence depended on the present moment only, Y/N's body oscillating before his grey eyes. He lingered a few moments on her chest, taking the time to suck each of her breasts in a soggy sound, leaving purposely saliva on her silky skin. As he was enough delighted by her body to go crazy, his right hand slid down her belly, under the fabric of her panties, where his fingers delicately spread her lips, discovering at the same time how wet she was already.

Y/N moaned subtly with satisfaction. She was so thirsty for his touch down there that she felt some relief when Sirius curved a finger inside her, slipping it all over her sex, lubricating her with her own fluids. Sirius felt dizzy, as if he was outside his own body, halfway between a burning desire and a sensational euphoria. He finally slipped her undies along her thighs. He watched her offering her body for a few seconds. He could no longer contain himself, his whole figure was full of chills, envy, lust, desire. He opened his mouth and made only a mouthful of Ellie's sex, languorously lapping her. She clung to the sheets, trying as best as she could to enjoy silently as Sirius savoured her. She was already trembling under his yoke.

He looked at her breathing loudly and trembling and she sat back, locking eyes with him as he licked and ate her out. She opened her mouth with pleasure as he pounded his fingers back and forth but it wasn't enough. She craved him, entirely. "Come here" she said, grabbing his head and moaning in his mouth as she tasted her own juices on his perfect lips.

Sirius stood up and removed his underwear, slid his thick and swollen cock between her folds, back and forth. It was pure torture for the both of them. Just the sensation of their sex meeting for the first time, touching, was enough to drive them to the edge. Ellie moved her hips so Sirius slipped inside her. It felt so damn god. Both weren't moving, they were taming the moment, wondering what the hell they were doing. How could two people who disliked each other so much could end up together like that. Sirius started to pound slowly in her, as his cock slid along her walls, which tightened around and caused her pure pleasure. Sirius growled, it almost hurt how much he just wanted to fuck her, right now, how he wanted to drive her insane, how he wanted to spill everything he had retained for her for so long. He started moving faster, making sure she enjoyed it. "You're so bloody pretty like that, Y/L/N/" he murmured, as sweat pearled on his forehead. She moaned more as he sighed brutally. "Yes, um, yea-" she whined as she felt she was reaching it again. They could hear the music downstairs, they could hear people laughing loud and having fun. But it wasn't really happening. Right now, they were just alone together. Sirius felt he couldn't last any longer, never he had ever wanted to get his release so badly. He felt like it was the first time he made love. Nervous, unsure, vulnerable.

He felt her shaking as she closed her eyes and felt her whole body spasming. He let himself go, with a low growl, he grabbed her by the waist, clenching on her and came in her, feeling their fluids mixing together in a tidy warm mess. Sirius rolled over next to Ellie and they were both fixing the ceiling. Relieved, but unsure what the hell just happened. Sirius looked at her and kissed her gently. She wrapped herself into the kiss. Suddenly, she stopped. She got up and looked for her dress. "Let's not tell anybody about that, alright?" she asked, putting on back her clothes. Sirius smirked again. "Are you crazy? Never." She nodded.

He wanted to ask her to stay the night. Who cared about the party downstairs?

She wanted him to ask her to stay the night.

Y/N closed the door behind her, leaving Sirius up to himself. How they both were suddenly really looking forward for September 1st.

If you liked what you read, make sure to like/comment/reblog. This is what motivates writers to improve and write more! You can also buy me a coffee!

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aiimaginesbts · 7 years

Text

What You Never Had: Chapter 5 (M)

Seokjin x Reader

Genres: Royalty AU, smut, angst, fluff

Word count: 4,253 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (M) | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (M) | 13 | 14 (Final)

Disclaimer/Copyright

Under any other circumstances, the sight of Jin with his mouth gaping with shock would have amused you to no end. However, this was no situation to laugh about. You, the Princess Royal, were garbed in a dress belonging to your lady-in-waiting, standing in front of the room of a man in plain view; the room of your Royal Guard, no less, late at night when you were supposed to be asleep in your own chambers.

"Your Highness! What are you doing here?" He hissed, sounding surprised, a little angry, and more than slightly panicked, but he had the sense to lower his voice down so he didn't attract any attention.

"Let's talk inside," you said instead, gently placing your palms on his chest so you could push your way into his room. Now that you were here, you felt less hesitant, enough to make that bold a move, and Jin was still in such a state of astonishment that he allowed you to cross the threshold of his sanctuary without any arguments.

At once your eyes swept the expanse of his room, quickly adjusting to the lack of light. You'd never been in a guard's room, but the furnishings were similar to the ones in Ji Eun's room. The small stack of papers on a desk in the far corner of the chamber, the deep colour of blue of his bedsheets, as far as you could tell in the dark and the lack of feminine knick-knacks made the space look more masculine.

If it was possible, you would have looked more closely to the details of the place Jin spent most of his nights in nowadays but a soft click of the door from behind was a reminder that you were here for a reason. However, you waited. Suddenly nervous again. Part of you searching your brain for something to say, the rest of your mental capacity trying to deal with the full realisation that you were in a man's room. You could feel his eyes burning holes through your back, but you were determined to ignore him in favour of collecting yourself, at least for now. Until –

"Why are you here? Have you completely lost your mind?" He demanded as he walked away from the door towards the large wooden table. A small lamp was lighted, illuminating the room with a soft, yellowish glow. You shifted your gaze towards the source of light just as he turned his back on it to look at you.

Cast into the shadows by the light shining behind him, the contrast made the planes of his face stand out, emphasising his beauty and robbing you of breath. However, his slanted brows and sharp eyes told you that he was waiting for an answer. Still, it took you several moments to gather your wits together to form a response.

"I'm worried about you," you said softly, not wanting to give him more reason to be angry with you than he already did.

"Worried about me? Why?"

You didn't answer. Somehow being in the same room with him alone was affecting you more than you would have expected. The glimmer of the lamp was soft and too small for the big room, the muted light unable to reach the other end of the chamber. In need of support, you walked further away from him, sitting at the foot of his bed instead of the hard chairs near his desk.

This position put you in the darker side of the room, making it hard for Jin to see your expression. Unable to make out your face and sensing that no answers were forthcoming, he crossed the space to stand in front of you.

"Tell me." It was almost an order, a need to know why you were here in his chamber on your own at this hour.

"You looked really upset earlier. Even after the feast. On the way back, you seemed down-spirited," you finally responded as you looked up at him with wide, concerned eyes. "Are you still angry with me?"

"Angry with you?" He said incredulously. "I am not angry with you." When you didn't look convinced, he moved his hand to palm the side of your cheek. The gesture made flowers bloom inside your being even as your heart thudded with increasing force as seconds ticked past.

Out of reflex, you reached for his other hand and held it between both your own. "Then what is it? It hurts me to see you unhappy." As the words slipped past your lips you realised that it was true. It was painful for you to watch Jin sad, even if you were not the cause.

Sighing, he took a seat on the bed beside you, far enough that your bodies didn't touch but close enough that you didn't have to let go of his hand. When he spoke again, his voice had lost that sharp edge it had earlier. "I really was angry at myself. You should not concern yourself with it."

"Does it have anything to do with me?" You probed, trying not to be too pushy, but you had a feeling that it did.

"You will think I'm a fool," he said instead of answering your question.

"That's impossible. You are one of the people I look up to the most."

His bark of laughter at your praise was laced with bitterness and self-loathing. "Your high regard for me is misplaced, Your Highness." You frowned at his use of honorifics, but let him continue without interruption. "Before I found out that you're a princess, I..." he pulled his hand back, ashamed of himself. You heart sank when he did so, but you placed your own on your lap. It was more important to you to hear the reason he was so downcast. "I wanted to court you. That was why I was so upset when I found out the truth. For months I had been hoping that you would one day be my wife. Since not long after I met you, to tell you the truth," he explained to his knees, refusing to look at you.

"It is the hardest thing in the world to see you every day, to be so close to you, yet to know that you are and will always be out of my reach. Then this afternoon, when I saw you with another man..." his hands bunched into furious fists as he recalled the incident, "I knew he was trying to force himself on you, but still, it served as a reminder that you are someone I could never have."

His voice was filled with self hatred, and it tore your heart into shreds. Your eyes started to become moist, not just because of his sorrow, but due to the hope of an impossible future together that inevitably led to pain for you as well. Jin wanted to marry you. You had never desired for something more. Even before he confessed his feelings for you, it had been a daydream of yours. An insane infatuation that had grown more and more with each passing day, never thought to be reciprocated to that extent.

"Jin," you whispered, reaching for the side of his face to coax him to look at you. The anguish etched upon his handsome face was mirrored on yours. Instinctively you leaned forward, closing the distance between you to capture his lips in a kiss.

At first the contact was light, filled with unspoken misery and heartbreak, but you couldn't stop, and soon you began to crave for more. Angling your head, you deepened the kiss, pressing your body to his, but it wasn't close enough. When it came to Jin, you couldn't help but become selfish. Nothing would ever be enough. You yearned for every bit of him, and you wanted to give him all that you had in return.

Without even thinking, you climbed onto his lap to sit astride him. The fabric of your skirt strained to accommodate your new position, but you didn't care. This way you could better feel the hard muscles of his chest against your breasts, the contact making your aureoles grow taut. His deep groan upon feeling the stiff pebbles through your clothes sent excited chills down your spine. That was when you felt it; his hardness pressed against your inner thigh, so very close to your core.

You might be an innocent, but you weren't completely naïve. You knew what it meant. Jin wanted you. Perhaps just as much as you craved him. Perhaps even more. His palms, harsh and calloused from swordplay were pressing on your back, pushing you closer to him. The heat from them was only rivaled by the passion of his mouth, moving with yours in a desperate dance and when his tongue flicked out to silently ask for permission, you granted it immediately, parting your lips for it to enter.

His tongue exploring your mouth, his touch all over your body was making your breath erratic, but you could hardly care for breathing. Jin was your air, he was your oxygen. He was everything you needed. The only thing you desired. You slowly rolled your hips against his, instinct guiding you to make up for the lack of experience. At this, his hold tightened around you even more until his own hips bucked upwards in a sharp, reflexive move, making you whine at the unexpected jolt of pleasure that coursed up your spine from the motion and he regrettably broke the kiss with a moan.

"You have to go," he said hoarsely, fighting the need to draw air into his lungs to get the words out. "I can't control myself if you stay here a minute longer."

It was clear that he was telling you the truth, but you found that you wanted him to lose control. The thought of leaving now was repugnant. This was where you needed to be. In his room. In his bed. In his arms. So instead of moving off his lap, you tugged your borrowed dress up and off of you before he could protest. Only your nightgown covered your modesty now, the cotton white and innocent but the material so thin that it didn't hide the way your peaked nipples strained against it. "I want to stay."

You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat as he swallowed at the sight before him. "You don't know what you're saying," he cautioned, but the warning was weak, the husky quality only serving to rile you up even more.

"On the contrary," you began, reaching up to unbutton your nightgown, "I know exactly what I'm saying." With shaky fingers, you fumbled with the tiny disks holding the garment together, managing to progress just underneath the swell of your breasts before Jin slid his hands up your arms, stopping you as he captured your mouth again.

His kisses devoured not just your lips, but your entire being, your soul, yet his grip on your upper arms; so powerful it was bordering on painful, conveyed to you that he was more desperate than he let on. You couldn't imagine needing him more than you did now, but he was set to prove you wrong.

You could feel his heart beating loudly underneath your palm as he nuzzled the column of your neck, peppering kisses along the length of it before he moved downwards. He tugged at the sides of your unbuttoned nightgown, revealing your breasts to him. Your own heart thudded in your chest when he took a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes zoned in on your heaving chest.

Before you could develop enough embarrassment to shield yourself from his gaze, he leaned forward and latched himself to one of the sensitive buds. Immediately you gasped, fingers finding their way to tangle in his silky hair, holding him in place just as much as to keep yourself upright. Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that such a simple act would send more spikes of pleasure down south. "Jin," you mewled, arching your back as he teased the nipple with his tongue into becoming even stiffer than before while tweaking the other between the pads of his fingers. Moving your wet core against his clothed erection felt even more rewarding with less material separating you. Still, your body cried for more.

So you tugged on his shirt, shamelessly pulling it over his head and he allowed you to do so without any protest. The sight of his bare torso sent you into overdrive, but you didn't have long to admire the defined muscles underneath the lightly tanned skin, because he decided that you needed to undress too. He pulled your nightgown over your head and held you tightly in his arms, lifting you up so he could lay you down in the middle of his bed. Then he drew back to look at you. His eyes filled with wonderment as he drank in the sight of you, fully naked in front of him. A small part of you wanted to cover yourself up and hide from his heated gaze, but somehow you didn't want to. Being exposed and bared for Jin somehow seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

"You're so... beautiful. So perfect." He scoffed at himself, discontent with his own compliments for you, as if mere words were not enough to describe your beauty to him. His eyes marked a trail on your flesh, so intense was his stare, a path that was set on fire by his hands. It started from your neck, just below your ear, down the valley between your breasts, to the side to admire the flare of your hips, brushing your legs trembling with nervousness and exhilaration, tracing every bit of skin in between. His touch was gentle yet possessive, hungry but revering in the vision before him.

Your sharp intake of breath was unmistakable when Jin parted your legs just enough to slip his hand between them and the tips of his fingers brushed against your most intimate place. He groaned at his discovery between your thighs. "You're so wet." Your hands grabbed his sturdy shoulders when he started to rub back and forth between your folds, then gasped when he sank his index finger into you. "So tight," he moaned raggedly. With just a few strokes, you could hear the slickened noises that your pussy made with every movement of his finger, and when another joined the first, the sensation was indescribable.

It wasn't difficult for him to plunge you into a swirling vortex of sinful pleasure. Your iron-clad grip on his broad shoulders tensed just as your inner muscles clamped onto his fingers, but before you could make sense of anything, he pulled away, leaving you empty and a little disappointed for a reason you couldn't even begin to comprehend. "So sensitive," he commented darkly, watching your dazed expression at his torment and withdrawal. Eyes wide open, like a lost deer, dewy lips parted in an 'o' of need for something unknown, cheeks flushed from the new delight wrought by his ministrations. He couldn't help break eye contact when he sucked on his long fingers, your taste making his eyes roll back in his head. "So delicious."

You felt extremely vulnerable to him in the state of arousal that he had reduced you to, but he was quick to lean in and alleviate your worries.

"Why can't I resist you," he whispered the rhetorical question between kisses.

"You can't?" You asked breathlessly. The thought that someone as perfect as Jin finding you irresistible was unfathomable to you.

The angelic quality of his voice hummed in confirmation. "I want you so much."

"I want you too, Jin." You moaned earnestly, squirming underneath him, brushing your body against his in all the right places.

"You are going to be the death of me," he groaned at your response, moving away to quickly divest himself of the rest of his clothing, then climbed back to envelop your body with his, but not before you saw him in all his naked glory.

Years ago, you and Ji Eun had bribed the scullery maid to spill the details of her sexual encounters with the groom from the stables. Even amidst the hushed squeals and raucous giggles that had ensued when the maid demonstrated the motions of the act using a cucumber to represent the groom's penis, you had wondered to yourself how something so big could fit inside you.

Now, however... you didn't think there was a cucumber long enough or fat enough to be compared with Jin's cock to do it justice. When Jin nudged your legs further apart so he could settle between them, you could feel the tip of his manhood grazing against your dripping entrance, and a sprinkle of trepidation sparked inside your mind. However, it was masked by your lust for him. Just the light pressure of him so close to your delicate center was doing untold things to your mind and body. Any semblance of reasoning and judgement had long left you. Every part of you was screaming for him, the primal side of you calling for him to brand you as his, and only his.

"Are you sure about this?" Jin asked, the query firm and steady even though his quivering hold on your waist and the twitch of his cock behaved differently. "If you want me to stop, I will stop, I swear it."

You held his face in your hands so you could look into his warm brown eyes, now darkened with lust as you said, "Yes Jin, I've never been more sure my entire life. Please make me yours."

"Thank goodness," he let out the breath that he had been holding in a stuttering exhale. "This may hurt you a little," he warned, the regret already showing in his eyes even before he could cause you any pain.

"I know you will make everything all right," you said with conviction. "I trust you, Jin."

At your words, he pressed his forehead against yours and breathed in your scent deeply; a tender gesture in a charged moment. "I don't deserve your trust, but I will try. I promise I will do my best by you."

Then he pushed himself forward, allowing himself to taste only a fraction of your wet heat before stopping to gauge your reaction. You ran your hands up the expanse of his back, a silent urge for him to continue, and he did. His descent into you was excruciatingly slow, but you didn't argue. All you could think of was the way he felt inside you, spreading you open to accommodate himself, your muscles stretching impossibly to make room for him. It was difficult for you to register Jin's loud puffs and his fists clenching the bedsheets in his efforts not to simply plow into you as his body demanded of him.

He stopped again to ask, "How do you feel?"

"Good," you answered a little hesitantly, more than a little breathlessly. "I just feel so... full."

He laughed at your answer, breaking the tension. "Y/n, I'm not even halfway there."

"What?!" Your panic was swallowed by Jin's mouth, distracting you as he plunged the rest of the way in, sheathing himself completely within you. His breathy groans and your needy moans were mingled together as he paused again, giving you a chance to adjust to his intrusion. The tremors wracking his body finally clued you in on how much he was holding back on his own urges for your sake, and your heart screamed with affection and gratitude for his wordless care for you.

You had never felt so crammed before, the sensation alien to you, but his tenderness and patience granted you time to let the slight pain slowly recede. Experimentally you lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist. A yelp escaped you when this pushed him in even deeper than before, but you pressed harder, wanting more of him, even though he filled you so tightly you were sure that you were going to burst. The initial agony had ebbed away to make way for a thirst for more Jin, and he was more than ready to give it to you. Your delectable whimpers encouraged him to ease into a rhythm that gradually increased in speed and force. You had never felt so incredible before, never even dreamed such a thing was possible, never could have imagined that such pleasure existed.

"Oh my god, Jin, Jin," you panted between his murmurs of your name, unable to articulate the bewildering, intense pleasure coursing through your veins with every thrust, building and rising within you. You tried to raise your hips to meet his, but you were no match for his ferocious movements. Guttural grunts from the back of his throat accompanied the sharp slaps that sounded every time he pounded you into the mattress, soon joined by your cries as you felt the beginnings of a knot tightening in your belly.

Confusion clouded your mind, unable to make sense of the clashing desires your body was demanding of you. Jin's thrusts were feeding a fire that was escalating into an inferno you were afraid you could never put out, yet the thought of asking him to stop was not an option either. A sob became lodged in your throat as he continued his onslaught upon your body, your whole being winded up so tightly you were certain that you couldn't take it a second longer.

"Jin, I can't," you pleaded with him, not knowing how to explain, clueless as to what to do, you turned to him for a solution. Your legs were starting to shake, your insides closing in on his length, making him moan at the increased friction and resistance to his strokes.

"Don't hold back," he commanded. "Just give in to it. I promise you it will feel good."

Both your control and your body was stretched to the limit, and you couldn't possibly take any more, so you heeded his words and let go. A strangled scream escaped your lips as you shattered beneath him, your back arching off the bed with your hips bucking so forcefully that you lifted him up with you. You hardly noticed that Jin had gone still, watching you throw your head back into the pillows, your whole body shaking violently with the force of your orgasm, savouring the sight until the strength of your grip on his cock became too much for him to bear.

His grip on your waist was strong, bruising as he slammed his last few thrusts within your hot, slick depths before pulling out with a roar of your name and emptying himself on your stomach. Still climbing down from your high, you simply watched as bursts of white spurt out of the tip of his cock, feeling an inexplicable pride at being covered with his seed.

After drawing a few quick breaths, he gave you a quick peck on the lips then moved off of you and away from the bed. You were about to protest, wanting – no, needing – him to remain with you, but he quickly returned to your side with a wet cloth. Still panting, he wiped away the remnants of your lovemaking from between your legs and your stomach with care, cleaning you up before gathering you in his arms.

For a while he laid with you on the bed, wordlessly kissing every inch of your face. You couldn't help but smile, never feeling so loved your entire life, wishing for this moment to last for all eternity. You closed your eyes, basking in the love that Jin showered you with without any reservation.

The next time you opened your eyes, it was due to gentle nudging from Jin. You blinked, feeling a little disoriented, wondering at what point you fell asleep in the comfort of his embrace. It was still dark, but you could see the tenderness in his warm chocolate eyes, mixed with a little sadness. "You should go now before the servants wake and you are missed."

You sat up in alarm, the fear of being caught pushing you to haul yourself off the bed and pull your clothes back on. Jin was already partially dressed, having pulled his trousers back on, but he was still shirtless and you stared at him for a few moments, unable to tear yourself away from him.

A small smile illuminated his face as he placed an arm around your shoulders and led you to his door, where he turned you to face him. You looked up at him, pulse accelerating again when he leaned down to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, not dampened at all from the intimacy you'd already shared.

Neither of you wanted to break the contact, but finally he did so, pressing his forehead against yours to make sure you were looking into his eyes when he said, "I love you."

Before you could respond, however, he had turned you around again, opened the door and pushed you through it. You couldn't risk knocking on his now closed door again so you made your way back to your chambers, trying to contain your wild euphoria at his parting words that you repeated again and again in your head like a mantra.

He loves me. He loves me.

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