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highvern · 2 months

Text

Rough

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: Cheol’s hands, fingering, spitting, minor pain kink, pussy slapping, teasing/begging, thick dick cheol, unprotected sex, creampie, minor breeding kink, mating press, soft(ish) dom Cheol, strength kink, he’s wearing a watch and his chain, praise

Length: ~2k

Note: an ode to Cheol's hands, and his c*** i needed a cigarette while looking at pictures of his hands for this fic. everyone rot with me @gyuswhore @wonustars @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

The lights of the TV illuminate you and your boyfriend’s intertwined forms resting on the sofa. Seungcheol’s hands busy themselves, fingers digging into the sore cords of muscle twisted along your legs. He thinks nothing of it, focused on the drama unfolding on screen while you focus on the cool metal of his watch licking just above your knee.

He smiles when you jump, the tickle of his fingers sending bubbling laughter into the space between you.

“What?” He asks, as if he doesn't have all your weak spots committed to memory.

“Nothing.” you mumble.

“Want me to stop?”

A shake of your head is the only reply Seungcheol needs before he pins your flailing limbs and goes about his business once again.

His hands always feel incredible. They’re always warm, always gentle despite what lurks beneath the surface. And they’re always on you, in some way or another.

The roughness of his palm or dig of his fingers are second nature after years of them glued to your body. Whether they’re holding you close or stroking across your cheek as he wakes you with sweet kisses. Heating the small of your back while he guides you in a crowd, or tangled with your own as he whispers his deepest secrets into the dark late at night. You love every part of him but his hands show you a million different ways he feels the same.

You try not to react as he massages up your thighs, the sinew of muscles seizing before they melt under his careful ministrations.

Every sigh through your nose is a tell Seungcheol is well accustomed to; what you like and what you love. Because he knows you like when he focuses on the curve of your quad, or the meat of your calves until they’re putty.

But you love when he pushes his hand under your oversized shirt and stretches the muscles deeper inside until you vibrate with want.

“You’re not watching the movie.” He whispers into your ear, nose following the curve of your jaw to the place he knows drives you wild.

“I'm a little distracted right now.”

And just like that the thick fingers stuffed in your cunt freeze before retreating. You can’t close your thighs to stop it due to the hand pinning your leg down to his lap with bruising force. But he can’t prevent your free leg from kicking in protest as you beg him to stay.

Seungcheol pinches the inside of your thigh until it stings, “Stop.”

You know that tone. It’s the one that warns you if you keep going, you won’t get what you want; what you need. Seungcheol isn’t a stingy lover but he likes to play and this is his newest game. If you can play along long enough he’ll make it worth your while.

“Eyes on the TV.”

With a harsh swallow you turn back to the screen. Once your boyfriend is sure you won’t look away, his hand returns, three fingers stretching you at a snail's pace. When he’s worked them all in, no longer cautious of your initial discomfort, he stops; focused on curling up against that spot he’s always found with embarrassing ease; pressing until your legs shake and you actually do start dripping into his lap. If it wasn’t for the fabric of your shirt, he could see everything.

The hand on your thigh joins in, the pad of his finger drawing rough circles of your clit. It’s fast and it's dirty but you keep pretending to watch the TV while Suengcheol does as he wants. Your mind is so numb you don’t even realize he’s pushed away the blanket and ruched your shirt up your hips to leave you bare. Not until you hear him spit and feel it land on your exposed clit framed between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the upholstery. “Please.”

But he’s not done yet. A swift slap to your pussy sends stars in your eyes and your body ten feet in the air if not for the man forcing you in place.

“Just relax, baby.”

You try. And Seungcheol respects your effort because every muscle he worked into submission over the past ten minutes jumps alive under your skin but you sit still in his lap and take what he gives you like he knows you can.

He kisses your cheek before whispering, “I love you.”

Each word burns into your skin, licks through your blood. He loves you, and you love him and all he wants to do is take care of you. So you try and let him even if it means madness.

Seungcheol watches you pretend to watch the movie once again, but your mind focuses on the sound of debauchery echoing between your thighs. If you looked down you know what you’d see. The way your pussy clings to his fingers with every stroke out, how they glisten with your arousal, every squeeze; everything.

All the teasing is enough to make your eyes gloss. Especially when he adds a fourth finger and tells you how perfect you are, how you were made for him, and if you cum right now he’ll give you his cock but you have to earn it.

You want to feel his lips suck around your clit until you're nothing more than an empty shell but you’ll happily settle for the swipes of his fingers. It’s obscene how wet you are and how loud your ruined cunt is over the blasting speakers.

“C’mon pretty girl,” he coos into your ear. “Come for me.”

The coil winds and winds until it snaps. All the edges ripple, the world blurs. Every breath hurts from the punch in your stomach forcing bolts of electricity through your nerves.

And Seungcheol doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you’re crying. Only to kiss away each tear with praise and soft lips. You barely crack your eyes open, watching his fingers disappear between his lips, sucking away the mess before he gives you a taste on his mouth.

Eyes shut and boneless in his arms, you let him push and pull you just the way he wants. Your body’s only protest in the exhaustion Seungcheol’s fucked into you with his hands. But it’s not enough to keep you from taking him again.

It never is.

When the jostling stops, you find him kneeling before you. He hasn't bothered to remove his clothes, or yours. Just forces your shirt over your breasts and his pants down until he's bare. Thick thighs frame an equally thick cock you know like the back of your hand.

If your boyfriend thinks you’re beautiful then he is other worldly in the glow of the LED screen.

Hands anchored on the back of your knees, you spread out for his eyes only. Seungcheol’s mouth waters at your wrecked pussy, soaked and swollen from his attention, begging to be split on his cock. The drooling tip of his length taps against your clit, sending you deeper into the spiral, each nudge making your muscles twitch until he uses his thumb to catch on your opening and force himself through the mind numbing clench.

Seungcheol goes slow, pressing forward only a millimeter at a time, barely giving you a taste before he pulls back and starts again. If the way you’re positioned didn’t prevent you from rushing him forward than the fist around his cock would as he teases you until you're begging and he’s puffing up with pride at how desperate you are.

Just when you think he’s ready to give in, almost flat against one another, he pulls out.

“I sweat to fucking god if you don’t fu—ckkkkkkk,”

Sheathed to the base in your heat Seungcheol finds paradise, dick twitching with every breath. The rough skin of his palms circle your ankles, spreading them up and out of the way so he can lean forward and give you what you want; your pussy stretched to the brim on his cock while he fucks every last thought out of your head.

“Move.” You mewl, barely human, shaking under his weight.

Settling your legs over his shoulders, he folds you in half, freeing the hands you love so much to do as he pleases. One lands just above your head to keep him from completely crushing you and the other cradles your jaw, thumb brushing across your lower lip before he meets you with a kiss.

His tongue glides against your own, fucking your mouth as his hips curl in time. Every thrust forward forces the air in your lungs up your throat to be swallowed by your boyfriend. He strokes you to life, pinned in place, helpless, glowing.

Seungcheol groans as he fucks you harder. “Fuck, you take it so well.”

You're shaking, vibrating from the synapses firing through every inch of your being. Chin dipped, you watch him wreck you, creaming around the base of his length like he’s fucked you for hours rather than minutes.

You’ll come like this, without any pressure on your clit; just the delicious drag of his thick cock in your walls, crushed under his weight and entirely at his mercy. Helpless Seungcheol latches his hand you yours, intertwines your fingers, and cants against like he’s possessed.

Eyes rolled as you go limp, you reach for his face and whimper into his mouth, climbing higher and higher until you hit the ceiling. Your hands are everywhere, anywhere in reach as you fail to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure rolling through your veins. And it all shatters with a whimper of his name.

He’s perfect and he’s yours and you don’t know what you did to earn him but you know you could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him.

You try to break through the noise. But it just serves to make things worse because the only thing the man on top you likes to see more than you desperate for him is you coming on his cock. The arm above your head collapses, sending all of his weight on you, forcing him deeper into your guts until you can taste him on the back of your tongue. The wet clap of his balls against your ass with each rut forward rockets you into the deep end.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Seungcheol bites into your jaw. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you’re so good. So good.”

It’s blinding, eyes cinched so tight fireworks float in the darkness; Seungcheol’s moans blending with the rush of blood fleeing your brain. He’s feral with the satisfaction of your orgasm, how you wail beneath him like your neighbors won’t hear and know you have a man who pleases you in every way imaginable. Like you want everyone to know his name.

“Cheol,” you whisper, all breath. So quiet he wouldn’t hear you if he wasn’t dialed into your every move. “Want…” you pant. “Want you…”

Seungcheol presses as deep as he can before letting go; stuffing you with his cum, grinding into your pussy with every jerk of his cock until it spills around where he splits you and slips down your ass.

His eyes never leave yours, watching you take every drop of his affection like you were made to. Like he was the one made to give it to you. Even with your thrashing, you never look away.

A final pathetic noise scratches the inside of your throat when he’s done. Seungcheol won’t pull out but he will pull away, yearning to see the mess between your bodies. Cum and arousal smears your bellies, your thighs, the base of his cock still inside you. Eventually he'll pull you up to wash off and you have no doubt the cushion will be beyond repair.

When he’s had his fill, he collapses into your chest, arms twine around your back as he kisses you with every ounce of devotion he can spare. Until you can feel his love down to the tips of your toes and through every last cell in your body.

And because showing you isn’t enough, he tells you again and again while he fills you once more in the comfort of your shared bed.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #svthub #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #🫡 highvern

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hoseoksluna · 4 months

Text

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks <;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind.

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world.

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do.

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing.

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear.

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs.

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life.

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through.

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question.

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!”

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again.

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction.

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.”

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?”

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face.

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“That’s my girl.

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties.

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.”

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear.

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you.

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die.

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all.

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it.

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning.

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.”

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.”

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.”

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper.

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans.

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense.

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.”

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?”

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.”

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word.

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls.

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast.

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.”

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly.

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you.

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles.

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.”

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him.

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.”

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over.

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?”

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.”

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants.

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him.

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?”

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.”

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.”

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like.

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses.

“Look.”

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.”

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing.

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in.

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair.

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light.

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#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x oc #namjoon x you #btscreatorscorner #bts smut #bts imagine #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fluff #kpop smut #knj x reader #knj #kim namjoon #namjoon

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wonustars · 1 month

Text

𝖫𝗎𝖼𝗂𝖽 𝖣𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆

୨୧ pairing: wen junhui x f!reader ୨୧ word count: 4.4k ୨୧ genre: perv!jun x f!reader, smut (mdni 18+) ୨୧ summary: jun had a secret he's been keeping from you, one that could make or break your year long friendship. out of worry, you visit his apartment, only to discover important items that have been missing from your wardrobe.

୨୧ reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

୨୧ tags: nonidol!au, uni!au, perv!jun, panty stealer!jun, f!reader, friends2fucking. ୨୧ smut tags/warnings: switch!jun/reader, p in v unprotected sex, cowgirl, slapping, oral (f. receiving), fingering, creampie.

୨୧ note: this was purely made to torment @onlyhuis /lovingly heheh ♡ and becasue she is queen of huihui's :D. i also needed to write a shorter story to get out of my writing slump :p. and a big big ty my mother mars for proof-reading this despite her hectic schedule @onlymingyus 💞🎀

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ≽^•⩊•^≼

“Is everything ok, Jun?” you ask your friend, turning to him as he sits so far away from you that you feel like you have to shout for him to hear you.

He tenses up at your question, pausing to think before answering you.

"Uh, y-yeah, why?” He stutters.

“Because every time I come close, you’re always so stiff…” you pout, not liking how far away he is.

You’ve only been friends with Jun for about a year but got along well enough to become closer to each other than the rest of the friend group. He’s shy and a little quiet at first, but once he’s out of his shell, he becomes humorous and very endearing. There was a certain charm that Jun had that made people naturally flock towards him, despite his quiet nature. But even in the year you knew him, he didn’t go on dates or mention anything about a girlfriend.

The curious being you are, it made you wonder why he never tried to spread his wings and mingle a little bit. Always questions why he brushes off people's advances or fully ignores them when girls are trying to get to know more about him. You decided that maybe he wasn’t ready to date or he was trying to focus more on school.

The two of you spent much time at your apartment, not doing anything in particular. It was either scrolling through Tiktok silently in each other's company, studying, or watching a movie. Today is the latter, a little study session with Jun before playing a movie to wind down.

Usually, study sessions and movie nights called for cuddles, but today seems to be different. Jun hadn’t been acting himself the whole day and it confused you.

“No, I think I just got the flu or something, don’t wanna get you sick.” Jun choked out a lame response, not trying to blow his cover.

There’s a layer of sweat that’s beginning to form on his forehead as he tries to quickly gather his school supplies and bag off your floor. If he were to lift his arms any further up, you would catch his bluff, and his large and very hard bulge covering his oversized sweater.

“W-what?” You ask dumbfoundedly.

“I’m gonna go home and rest up, I’ll see you later, bye!”

The door shuts before you can get another word in. Jun’s abrupt exit leaves you even more confused than you were before.

A puff of air leaves Jun’s lips as he leaves your apartment, and he feels a twinge of guilt for leaving like that. But he wasn’t prepared to have you sitting so prettily on your couch, changed into nothing but a tank top and some sleep shorts. The sight of your plump breasts and full thighs caused all the blood from his brain to travel south.

He knows it’s wrong to look at you that way to yearn for your touch, to feel your plump flesh in his hands. And it's especially wrong to want to fuck you till his cock is the only thing you crave, yet he can’t help it. He can’t help the fact that your figure is like a drug and Jun is insatiable.

When it comes to you, it becomes very easy to turn him on. You could be doing the most mundane of things, but it’ll still get him going. He can’t help but stare, and he knows it’s bad, but he can’t tear his eyes off you. Today, for instance, your loungewear left nothing up to his imagination, and he was able to see every curve and crevice in what felt like ultra-HD.

The rise and fall of your breasts through your tank top is what got him, and if it weren’t for his sweater, or the fact the two of you only hang out at your apartment, you would’ve found out about his dirty secret.

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ≽^•⩊•^≼

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t curious as to why Jun left your apartment so fast. His urgency to escape made you feel like maybe you had done something to upset him, which is the last thing you would want to do. You valued your friendship with him and if something was going on, you wanted to know how to fix it.

Being the impatient person you are, you didn’t even give him a heads-up before deciding to show up at his apartment unannounced. Although you know it’s a little rude to barge in, it is all for the sake of your friendship with Jun. A friendship that you value a lot more than your other ones.

Knocking on his door, you call out for him, “Jun! Open up, it’s Y/n, I know you’re in there!”

There’s shuffling that can be heard behind the door, indicating that Jun is indeed home. But before you could knock on the door further, he opened it up. His eyes are wide, round glasses adorning his face, cheeks flushed like he’s out of breath.

“Are you ok? You look warm, are you still sick?” You overload him with questions, pushing past the door and placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

Jun is startled by your sudden touch, but the fact that you’re in his apartment is what alarms him the most. There were too many things in his room that could incriminate him. He isn’t a murderer or anything like that, just a huge fucking pervert. And as far as he could tell, you didn’t know how much of a perv he was for you.

He had turned into some type of kleptomaniac the moment you were comfortable enough to invite him into your home. Pocketing your stray panties every time you left a pair in the bathroom, just to bring them back to his room. Fucking himself into the cloth as if they were an immediate extension of you. The silk wrapping around his hard length, soiling them with his cum as if it were your body instead.

The worst part of it all was that he didn’t feel bad for stealing them, justifying his actions by telling himself that it was the only thing to keep him in control of his feelings for you. He didn’t feel any guilt for taking a new pair after they lost your scent or when they were dirty with his cum.

But having you in his apartment is like having an ice-cold bucket of water thrown over his head. While you were knocking relentlessly at his door, he was pleasuring himself in a pair he had stolen from your home the last time he visited. Placing the lacey pink thong in his sweater pocket when he excused himself to the bathroom. For some reason, you never noticed or were too embarrassed to bring it up with him. From his point of view, you seemed naive enough to think that you had just misplaced them.

Jun glances behind him to see that he left his room door open by a crack, meaning he just had to make sure you evaded that area entirely.

“I’m fine, Y/n, it’s late and you should go home,” He encourages, trying his best to usher you back to the door.

He curses how stubborn you are because his words have done nothing but make you want to stay even longer. Your two feet planted against the floorboards as if they were glued there. Shaking your head with your arms crossed in front of your chest, you simply refuse his request.

“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s wrong!” You exasperate, trying to convince Jun to finally tell you why he’s been acting so weird.

The gulp in his throat is evident, his strong Adam’s apple moving up and down as he watches your crossed arms accentuate the fullness of your breasts.

“I-Uh-,” He can’t even get a sentence out when your pretty mounds are right in front of his face.

Jun’s mouth is filling with drool quickly, and his semi-hard member starts to come back to life. Your anger causes your chest to heave up and down and all you can think about is how they would look without all the clothes in the way. Your nipples all perked up and wet from his saliva, he could imagine it all happening now.

“If I did something to upset you, I’m sorry,” you sigh, taking his bicep in your hand and squeezing it.

You look up at him through your lashes with an apologetic look and Jun is practically put into a trance. The way you’re staring at him so innocently, as he can only think of you in a lewd way, causes his dick to pulse in his sweatpants. The long white tee he’s wearing hardly covers his bulge, but thankfully you were still staring at him with a small pout on your plush lips.

“No! You did nothing wrong, trust me, I really wasn’t feeling well,” he assures you. “I just need some rest.”

“I can take care of you, I don’t know why but I feel like it’s my fault that you’re sick,” you insist, your stubbornness causing Jun’s heartbeat to start to pick up.

He watches you grab his arm to bring him back to his room and now he’s getting really scared. The pair of your panties he left on his bed is covered in his cum but somehow nothing is stopping you from leaving his side.

“Please, Y/n, I don’t want you to get sick,” he begs you, but you don’t stop, “And-And my room is a mess right now, please!”

Jun is beyond flustered now, but you protest harder, not letting his persuasive words get to you. You’re worried about him, and as the good friend you are, you just want to nurse him back to health.

“C’mon Jun I know you, it’s probably fine,” you sigh, pushing the door to his room open.

Before you could move a step further, the sight of his room caught you by surprise. Your back bumps into Jun’s chest as you stand there frozen. The pair of pink panties you thought you misplaced sat on top of his comforter, covered in a white and sticky substance.

You can hear Jun trying to explain himself, stuttering, and also calling out your name, but it's no use. It all becomes background noise as you start to connect the dots. All this time, you thought you were going crazy or were just downright forgetful. All this time you thought your panties were disappearing into thin air, but here they are, piled up on your best friend's desk. Using them, cumming into them, and most likely doing so while thinking about you.

A part of you is meant to be disgusted, but you can’t help but feel intrigued. Is this why he’s been acting so weird around you? Is this why he never accepts a girl's advances? Because he’s been jacking off to you and stealing your underwear?

“Jun…” you trail off, the shock is starting to seep in and you’re left just wondering why and how.

“Y/n I’m sorry,” is all he can say, his large hand cupping your waist as your back is still flushed to his front.

There’s something hard poking at your lower back, and it takes you a few seconds to realize what exactly is poking you. This pervert has a boner right now, you say to yourself in your head. It feels huge and the thought of him being secretly aroused by this situation is making your cheeks flush. You would be called a liar if you said that you didn’t think about fucking Jun from time to time. But who wouldn’t come across those thoughts once in a while? He’s attractive, kind, thoughtful, and smart.

You’ve always wondered what would happen if you took your friendship with him to another level, but you didn’t dare risk it. From your perspective, it seemed like he was just too focused on school to date anyone, and that's why he didn’t have a girlfriend. But from the looks of his room, your assumptions were flat-out wrong.

“I can explain myself, I’m sorry, Y/n,” Jun rambles on, his grip on you becoming tighter by the second.

“Jun,” you speak out with a stern tone, turning around to face him.

You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down once more, his cheek flushed knowing he got caught in the act. It makes you wonder how long he’s been doing this and if you’re the only person he’s been like this about. You just had so many questions that are circling in your head it made you dizzy. Dizzy but also buzzing with curiosity and intrigue.

“Are you a pervert?” you ask him, but you already know the answer.

“Oh, um– I–” He continues to stutter and you stare him down, and for some reason, his hand won’t leave your waist

His touch is barely there but it’s sending tingles up your spine, especially with him trying to find words to explain himself.

“This whole time, have you been fucking my panties to the thought of me?” you’re taunting him now, your voice firm.

His mouth opens for a second only to close again and you can’t help but laugh in his face. The fact that he has the gall to steal your underwear, but can’t get confronted without stuttering is somehow laughable to you.

On the other hand, Jun is a mess, he can’t seem to find a way to defend his actions. Although he isn’t sure if he can defend himself right now, there's evidence of him doing the most unspeakable of acts against one of his closest friends.

“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” your voice barely above a whisper as you place one of your hands on his chest. “I can be a pervert too, you know.”

“W-what?” Jun is shellshocked, your words are barely wrapping around his scattered brain, but his hard-on is pulsing uncontrollably now.

You’ve barely touched him and he’s already feeling the pre-cum bead at the tip of his cock.

“If you wanna fuck me, just tell me,” you go on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, licking slightly at his ear lobe before going back down.

If Jun is lost in a lucid dream, he doesn’t want to be woken up. The fact that you're standing in his room, offering yourself up to him, already has him losing his mind. The pulse in his cock just grows harder to ignore as you look at him with expectant eyes.

A part of him is scared to touch you like you’d break if he laid so much as a finger on your delicate frame. The other part of him wants to press you into the mattress, fucking you with no mercy, to the point where you feel him inside your stomach.

The darker, more perverted half of him wins. His large hands grab you by the waist while he leans down to capture your lips into a kiss. And God was the feeling of your lips on his heavenly. It’s like he’s licking up clouds, your lips soft and plush, wet and sweet—everything he’s ever dreamed of. He can’t help but groan, enveloping his arms around you and pulling you in by your waist to bring you closer to him. Two arms wrap around his neck and it feels like he's floating on cloud nine.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans against your lips, his breathing becoming laboured with each passing minute.

He stares at you so intensely, you could get lost in his pupils with how blown out there are. Jun’s lips are pink and tender from kissing you, and it makes your knees weak. You can already feel the arousal pooling in your panties.

“Jun, please,” you whimper, placing kisses along his neck, sucking and biting to coax him towards his bed.

Moving backwards, Jun doesn't let go of your waist. Placing you carefully on the bed, your legs dangling off as your back hits the mattress. Your pink pair of panties that were discarded from the hours prior catch your eyes. It makes you chuckle knowing that Jun has been fucking your panties when he could’ve been fucking you instead. Honestly, if he had been honest with you before, you would’ve told him yes.

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about this moment,” Jun groans, his hands massaging your curves as he takes in the look of your body.

He’s seen what you look like before, but the context is different now. You’re about to let him fuck you, and he doesn’t know the reason why you’re allowing him, but he’s not about to complain.

“M-me too,” you blush, avoiding his gaze a little.

From the corner of your eye, you can see his own widen a little, surprised to know you’ve felt the same way about him this whole time.

“Wait really? Why didn’t you tell me?” He genuinely asks you.

“The same reason as you, I was afraid,” you shrug.

Jun just laughs, shaking his head, his round brown glasses reflecting light as he moves.

You watch him intently as he smiles, playing with the pieces of hair falling down and into his eyes as he lays on top of you. There's something really attractive about the glasses he’s wearing, they just suit him. The thought of sucking him off while he wears them runs through your mind like crazy. So you kiss him instead.

Pulling him in again, you kiss him hard, letting your tongue lick the insides of his mouth as Jun continues to grope at you. His hands are travelling under your tank top to grip your bra-less mounds. Tweaking and pinching your nipples which causes you to moan breathily between kisses.

“Just take it all off,” you ask of him, your request coming out as a squeak as he continues to play with you.

Jun doesn't need to be told twice, he promptly takes everything off of you, revealing your naked body. A groan bubbles up from his throat as he sees you adjust onto the bed so you're lying against his pillows. Never in a million years did he think he would ever get to see you naked on his bed.

“This is better than anything I could ever imagine,” he mumbles to himself, and you giggle at the fact that he’s talking to himself.

“And what would you imagine exactly,” you tease him, sitting up to remove his shirt.

Your hands are quick, taking off whatever remains of his clothing except for the glasses. The moment you get to his boxers, your voice is lost in your throat. The imprint his hard dick left is huge, and you’re wondering if he could fit it all inside you. Trying not to show how intimidated you are by his size, you pull down his last piece of clothing. The tip slaps against his stomach and you can feel yourself drool inwardly.

“I imagine you just like this, sitting pretty in my bed, begging for me to fuck you, to fill you with my cum,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back down.

His hand supports himself by your head, while the other roams further down your body till his hand teases the apex between your thighs. It makes you gasp, the feeling of his cold fingers, prodding at your folds.

“Is that something you’d like?” Jun continues to talk to you, his voice an octave lower.

You don’t say anything, more like you can’t say anything. The pads of his fingers are rubbing circles lazily against your clit, moans leaving your lips non-stop.

“Yes, I want that, please, Jun,” you beg him, gripping his bicep as he slides his fingers against your pussy lips harder. His fingers rub you but not enough to get you reeling over for him. He’s teasing you and you hate it.

“What do you want?” He taunts you because he already knows, he just wants to hear the words leave your lips.

You gasp, back arching as you feel one finger push past your entrance, going in and out of you at an excruciating pace. It feels so good to finally be full, it makes you feel lightheaded, but you want more.

“I want you to fuck me, please stuff me with your cum,” you whine, kissing up his neck to convince him to pleasure you further.

“Good girl,” he mutters, peppering kisses on your face, “got tired of fucking your panties, I need the real thing now.”

“Hmph, Jun, so good,” you moan, head thrown back as you feel him add another finger.

Your thighs spread even further, wanting him to have full access to your body. He realizes this, picking up the speed of his hands. The sounds of your squelching hole getting fingered fills the room and it’s like music to Jun’s ears.

Jun is lost in a daze, your face scrunched up with pleasure, and your eyebrows furrowed. He admires your beauty and he feels you come closer to your pending orgasm. There was something so intoxicating about your lust-filled gaze, eyes staring deeply into his as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

“So fucking tight, and wet,” Jun grunts, feeling your walls constrict around his digits.

He wants nothing more than to feel you around his cock, but he wants to taste you first.

“I need to have a taste of that pretty pussy,” he whispers once again, smirking at how your doe eyes follow his frame as he lowers himself between your thighs, “So fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

You are rendered speechless, just allowing Jun to use your body in whatever way he wants, but you don’t mind. The feeling of his tongue against your swollen bud makes your eyes roll back. It makes you grip his hair as he continues to push his two fingers into your slit. Having both his tongue and fingers on you is like heaven, and you can feel yourself coming close to the edge very soon.

“Close, I’m close, Jun,” you gasp out, watching him stare back at you from between your legs.

You’re mesmerized by how sexy he looks from where he is, the glasses fogging and defogging slightly with each breath he takes. His hair is a mess as you continue to pull at it, and the free hand he places on your thigh keeps you open. It’s a lot to look at and you don’t want to stop.

The familiar band in your stomach becomes so tight that it snaps, leaving you shaking as you ride out your first orgasm of the night.

“Fuck! Jun!” you wail, his tongue still playing with your clit as he begins to overstimulate you.

You practically have to push his head away, the sensitivity sending a prickly feeling all over your body. He just chuckles, the same smirk from earlier reappearing on his face. A sign that he knows he was teasing you after your orgasm, forcing you to grow frustrated with his actions.

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be,” you spit at him before flipping the two of you over.

Jun is left dumbfounded as he realizes that you’ve gained control over the situation. Your wet cunt sat snugly against his hardened length. He lets out a groan as you adjust yourself so your folds envelop the underside of his member.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he grunts, hands gripping your waist as he drags you back and forth the length of his cock. It feels good for the both of you, your head lolling back as you savour the warmth of his dick rubbing against you.

“I would fuck this pretty cunt all day if I could,” Jun confesses, lost in the feeling of your warmth.

“I want it inside,” your voice is thick with lust.

Before Jun can say anything more, you lift yourself, aligning his tip with your entrance. Fully sinking on his cock, the two of you let out a sigh of relief. The way his length fills you makes your head dizzy with pleasure. You can feel him stretching your walls like no other, and you wonder why you haven’t thought of asking him to fuck you before.

“You’re tighter than I imagined, baby,” He mutters, and you can tell he’s trying hard to fight off his release.

“You’re so big, Junnie, fuck,” you whimper, moving your hips back and forth to adjust to his size a bit more.

You lower yourself to kiss his chest, moving up towards his Adam’s apple, leaving trails of love bites. The movement of your hips begins to speed up, grinding against him to satiate that inherent need inside you. The need to have his cum fill you to the brim, to mark you with his seed.

Moving back up, you push your hands against his chest to stabilize yourself, bouncing up and down his cock like a woman depraved. Your skin slapped against his torso with every thrust down. Jun can only moan below you, gripping your hips as one hand slaps your ass repeatedly. Mixing your pleasure with a little bit of pain, and your walls constrict around his cock with every hit he lands.

Looking down at him, his face contorted as you fuck yourself on his length, Jun knows he won’t last any longer. The sight of you bouncing on his dick is making him weak, especially with the view of your tits bouncing in front of his face.

“This pussy’s fucking perfect, so fucking good,” His voice strained, “Wanna fill you with my cum baby.”

“Please, Jun, I wanna feel it,” you moan.

That’s all he needed to hear because a second later you feel the spurt of warm cum fill your hole. A shiver goes down your spine as you wait till Jun finishes emptying his seed into you, your orgasm follows quickly after. Juices coating his length as you let out a little moan of relief.

You collapse on his chest, lying there, Jun wraps his arms around you as his cock still sits snugly inside your warm cunt. Letting out a hum of satisfaction, you feel yourself start to get drowsy from how much energy you exerted.

“Can’t believe my best friend is a pervert,” you giggle, your fingers doodling nonsense on his bare chest.

“I can’t believe my best friend is attracted to perverts,” He argues back, rubbing the length of your back to calm you down.

You just roll your eyes in response, “You better give me my panties back.”

୨୧ a/n: ty for reading! i hope you liked it, please kindly leave a comment or reblog :3 or send an ask! ik i want to do a pt.2 of this so lmk what u all think!!! if theres any typos or warning tags missing pls comment or send an ask :) ty again and see you next time ♡

୨୧ taglist: @christinewithluv @todorokiskitten @peachescreamandcrumble @minwonfairy @oneandonlyluvv @ihrtmingyu @tigerhoshii @sleepzyy @luveveryonewoo @thepoopdokyeomtouched @chan-s-laptop @aksweet7 @leah-rose03 @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @gyuguys @crystal-rhyming @jenoxygen @hoshhhiiiii @babigriin @bouclesdefeu @mingyuecstacy @iluvseokmin @odevote118 @wonvsmile @suga-bitch @chickpea-jimin @lar3ine @bias-recs @hanniebub @iluvmingi @vapidlynn @aaniag @yogurttea @blurr3db3rry @lovejoshua @woozixo @drunk-on-dk @noiceoofed @angelfeverdream @leahhhher @hanniebwii @yuyunhoo @whowantshota @hannniiiiiehae @afslme @writingbarnes @cheolism

#svthub #wen junhui #jun #seventeen smut #jun smut #seventeen fic #jun x reader #jun fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #svt smut #svt fic #seventeen x reader #junhui x reader #junhui smut

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little-diable · 16 days

Text

We Can't be Friends - Spencer Reid (smut)

Since y'all loved my other mother's best friend fic so much, I wanted to write another. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: JJ's daughter, the reader, has joined the BAU a while ago. She and Spencer have been fooling around ever since, even though both know they can't be more than just friends and yet even at being friends, they fail. At least until an incident finally lets the others in on their love.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), age gap, blood, reader is shot (she survives ofc), mother's best friend, stupid lovers, hidden relationship

Pairing: Spencer Reid x JJ's!daughter!reader (3.2k words)

The gasp rumbling through (y/n) echoed through the room, loud enough to draw a gritty laugh from Spencer. The tall man towered over her, hands cupping her cheeks as their lips moved in sync. No words were spoken as he guided her towards the hotel bed, pushing her down to shuffle out of his clothes, all while (y/n) hastily undressed herself.

“We don’t have much time, Spence.” (Y/n) mumbled against his lips, naked body searching his like they had done numerous times before. It was a dangerous game they were playing, (y/n) had joined the BAU only a few months ago, always followed by her mother’s watchful eyes. Too many fights had happened between (y/n) and her mother, JJ, since she had joined the team, making the young woman feel as if her mother wasn’t trusting her – rightfully so, and yet neither (y/n) nor Spencer dared to let others in on their back and forth. Nothing but friends – a lie both kept on telling themselves.

“Then we better make the most of it.” His lips kissed their way down her naked body, eyes flickering up to (y/n)’s, watching her with mischief swimming in his pupils. It was scandalous almost, her mother’s best friend, the one who had watched her grow up for years, was now the man whose closeness she searched at any given chance, drawn to him like ancient lovers fulfilling their prophecy.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, baby.” Spencer’s thin fingers brushed through her slit, spreading her arousal on her pulsing bundle with a smirk widening on his lips. Wordlessly, she tugged on his brown curls, begging him to finally fuck her after a day filled with chases, with clues they had tried to follow and a killer still on the loose.

“Spencer,” (y/n) choked on his name as he pushed two fingers into her cunt, spreading her walls like he had done just yesterday evening. They were desperate for any and every moment together, hidden away in empty rooms, broom closets, or their hotel rooms while the others were out and about. “Fuck me, I need you inside of me.”

“You know how to ask nicely for it, be a good girl, (y/n).” His condescending tone left her groaning, eyes fluttering close as he curled his fingers against her g-spot. It took her a few seconds, with shaky exhales and trembling fingers clinging to his locks, to finally speak up.

“Please, Spencer, I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me. I’m yours, forever yours.” The growl ripping through him at her words left (y/n) grinning in success, a grin that was wiped off her lips the second he forcefully pushed into her, letting his cock spread her fluttering walls. For a second, both held still, needing to adjust to one another, to the intense sensation ripping through them like a tsunami, about to drown them in the waves of lust.

“You’re still so fucking tight for me, I’ll never get tired of fucking you.” Her walls clenched around him at his words, struggling to put her feelings into words. All (y/n) could do was cling to him, claw her fingernails into his skin as he fucked her into the mattress, the hotel bed she shared with her mother.

(Y/n) couldn’t keep her moans bottled in, unable to stop her sinful sounds from clawing through her as Spencer fucked her into oblivion. Both were stuck in their trance, solemnly focused on one another, all until his phone began to ring. Her eyes shot open, watching Spencer reach for his phone while he kept fucking her.

They held eye contact as he answered the call, forcing (y/n) to keep quiet. Her moans were swallowed by the hand he pressed to her mouth, struggling to focus on the words Spencer spoke, telling whoever had called him that they’d be at the station soon.

“That was your mom,” his grin kept widening as Spencer stared down at (y/n), taking in the fucked out expression she couldn’t shake, unable to speak any longer. “They found another lead, we gotta be quick, baby. I need you to cum for me.”

Spencer’s fingers found her clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle to push her over the edge. (Y/n) came within a handful of moments, calling out his name as he fucked her through her high. It was pathetic almost how much power he held over her, how much love she fostered for Spencer – a love that could never be.

He followed her seconds later, pulling out of her to relieve himself on her stomach, painting her skin with his cum. Both were panting, unable to hold back their laughter as Spencer pressed another kiss to her swollen lips before he rose to his feet, “We better hurry before your mom picks us up herself.”

……

“I don’t want you on this, (y/n), stay back and wait for my call.” JJ’s voice echoed through the small office, bright eyes staring at her daughter. The team kept watching their interaction, too focused on the both of them to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Spencer.

“Stop treating me as if I am not part of this team. It’s my job to chase this man as much as it is yours.” The spite dripping from (y/n)’s words left the others cringing, trying to keep themselves from interfering as (y/n) turned towards Aaron. “Will I be able to join, Hotch?”

She watched the man’s dark eyes flicker from her features to her mother’s, silently studying the two for a few seconds before he cleared his throat, “You will, but I need you to stay close to me, you haven’t had enough field experience yet.”

JJ was out of the room within moments, followed by all others – all besides (y/n), Aaron, and Spencer. An almost uncomfortable silence wrapped itself around the three, knowing that there was something else the Unit Chief needed to communicate, a conversation (y/n) desperately wanted to flee from.

“I hope the two of you know what you’re doing. The others haven’t picked up on it yet, but it won’t take long for JJ to figure this out. As your boss, I need to warn you of the chaos this will bring to the team. And as your friend, I beg you to figure this out before I am asked to pick sides.” Aaron left the two without waiting for their reply, forcing heat to flare up in (y/n)’s system, and confusion in Spencer’s.

“Come, we’ve got a job to finish.” (Y/n) turned from Spencer as she spoke the words, following Aaron out of the station and towards the black SUV he was driving. No further word was spoken between the three as they drove towards their destination, the house that had been surveilled the past days. The others had arrived moments ago, wearing their vests, clinging to their guns with their eyes focused on the house.

“Is he alone?” Aaron’s voice rang in (y/n)’s ears, she stayed glued to his side, the man who had always been like a father to her, more than her mother’s husband, Will, could ever be. Aaron was the one she trusted more than she trusted herself, the one she’d ask for guidance, the one who’d hold her when everything began to close in on her. The one she’d always fight for.

“Seems like it is. How do you want to do this?” (Y/n) tried to catch her mother’s gaze as Derek and Aaron spoke, but the blonde-haired woman kept staring ahead, seemingly still fuelled by her anger. (Y/n) and JJ never had a close relationship, just enough to make it through their day-to-day without any big mishaps. But the second (y/n) had joined the BAU, her mother had turned into an overprotective form of herself (y/n) wasn’t used to, not understanding where JJ’s concern suddenly came from. Perhaps this had also been one of the reasons why she hadn’t felt any guilt the first time she had shared a kiss with her mother’s best friend, Spencer, not tied together by any strong mother-daughter bond.

“(Y/n), Reid, you’re with me. JJ, Prentiss, you take the back with Morgan and Rossi.” Everything began to blur by, and within seconds (y/n) found herself following Aaron and Spencer into the house, checking every room. And then she saw him, their unsub, the man who had kidnapped three girls for his sick pleasure.

The man had his gun trained on them, telling (y/n) that he was ready to shoot, aiming at Spencer who hadn’t seen him yet. It was a natural reaction of her body, throwing herself in front of the man who held her heart in his hands, oblivious to the depth of her feelings. And the next second, his bullet pierced her collarbone, the spot that hadn’t been protected by her vest.

Shots echoed through the air, sounds that rang in her ears as (y/n) sank to the ground. Blood poured from her wound all too heavily, an amount of blood her eyes hadn’t ever taken in before. (Y/n)’s vision grew blurry, she heard her name being called, and could feel somebody cradling her hand in theirs, but within moments she passed out.

“(Y/n)? We need a medic! Please!” Spencer’s panicked voice filled the house, instantly guiding JJ towards them. His glassy eyes found her wide ones, watching his best friend sink to the ground next to her passed out daughter.

“What happened?” It was just a whisper, a whisper that was almost drowned out by the sound of nearing sirens, telling them that help was close.

“She pushed herself in front of me, she took the bullet for me.” Spencer kept rambling away, telling JJ what had happened, how he hadn’t seen the man Aaron had instantly killed after (y/n) had been shot. Words that kept leaving him like a waterfall cascading down his chin, only stopping himself from speaking a further word as JJ reached for his blood-covered hand, tightly squeezing it.

(Y/n)’d be alright, she had to be.

……

“Fuck,” (y/n) woke with a curse. She had to blink a few times to adjust to her surroundings, the bright light she was engulfed in, trying not to gag at the sterile scent crawling up her nostrils. The first person she focused on was her mother, sleeping on a chair close to her bed. (Y/n) allowed herself to study JJ for a moment before her eyes found the person sitting on the other side of the bed, Spencer.

“Hi,” he whispered the word as he squeezed the hand he was holding with his. Without letting go of her, he reached for a glass of water, helping (y/n) drink a few sips to find her voice.

“How long was I out for?” She tried to keep quiet, not daring to interrupt her moment with Spencer just yet. Tiredness clung to his features, telling her that they must have been here for a while, waiting for her to wake as her body tried to regain its strength.

“Almost two days. They had to repair your collarbone, but everything went as planned, you’ll be good to leave in no time.” Both their eyes snapped towards JJ, who watched the two with something swimming in her pupils (y/n)’s tired self couldn’t pinpoint. (Y/n) expected Spencer to hastily pull his hand away as JJ spoke, but he kept holding onto her, not loosening his grip on her.

“Good, I’ll have to apologise to Aaron for the extra paperwork, huh?” She had expected her mother to smile at her, to speak some kind of soothing words. But all JJ did was stare at her and Spencer – instantly telling (y/n) that her mother knew about what was going on between them.

“You won’t return to the BAU, (y/n).” She froze in the bed, wide eyes staring at her mother as JJ kept speaking. “Not only did you risk yourself, but you also have been too reckless, and reckless behaviour is unacceptable. I am sure you knew that before you began this relationship or whatever it is between you and Spencer. I am disappointed in you, (y/n). We raised you better than that.”

“Better than what, mother?” (Y/n) didn’t allow her pain to stop her from speaking, fuelled by her anger and her exhaustion. “You should be grateful I found a man like Spencer to love, a man you’ve always trusted more than anybody else. You know he’ll be good to me. And you also know I am a worthy asset to this team. I won’t leave the BAU because you can’t get over whatever it is you’re struggling with.”

“We’ll speak once you’re back home.” JJ was out of the room within seconds, leaving (y/n) and Spencer behind, wrapped up in the sounds of beeping machines and the voices of nurses and doctors hallowing down the hallway.

……

“Do you need anything else?” Concern dripped from Spencer’s voice. He was standing near her bed, weary eyes following (y/n)’s every movement. He had temporarily moved into her apartment the past few days, not daring to let her out of his eyes once – while skillfully avoiding the talk both desperately needed to have.

“Mhm,” (y/n)’s eyes wandered over his tired features, the face she’d seen in her dreams, the lips she hadn’t kissed in days, the curls she hadn’t been allowed to tug on for way too long. “Come here, Spence.”

“I should check on the food.” He tried to turn from her, tried to leave the room with hasty steps, but the sharp call of his name forced Spencer to freeze in his movements. Slowly, he turned back towards (y/n), eyes filled with the plea to avoid this topic for a tad bit longer, at least till he’d find a way to escape should they spiral into a fight neither of them could rip themselves out of.

“I’m tired of this, Spence. We knew from the beginning that this wouldn’t be easy should my mother realise what's going on. But I didn’t think you’d drop whatever this is between us just like that.” She stared up at him, gaze torn between anger and hurt, and yet she couldn’t shake the love she felt for Spencer, a love that ran deeper than any laws, any promises. “If you don’t want to be with me, I need you to leave. I appreciate you trying to take care of me, but I’d rather do that on my own if you keep treating me with this distance between us. You don’t have to work off any debt just because I took the shot.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing here? Work off a debt?” No longer did his voice tremble, no longer were Spencer's eyes weary and uneasy, but rather filled with a determination she had tried to coax out of him for days. Spencer took a step closer, and another until he sat down near her. The hairs on her arms rose, fuelled by the excitement his closeness always managed to push through her. “This is nothing but torture for me, (y/n). I can’t touch you, whenever my hand finds yours I am reminded of that moment, I thought you were about to die in my arms, and it’d forever be my fault. I can’t concentrate whenever I’m near you, but I can’t breathe whenever you’re away from me. Your mother is my best friend and I curse myself for going behind her back like that, with her own daughter. But as selfish as that may be, I can’t let you go. I don’t know what to do.”

Her lips found his before Spencer could move away, drawing a groan out of him. Their tongues met with excitement urging them on, but the spell was broken the second a pained gasp left her, forcing Spencer’s mouth away from hers instantly. His hand cupped her warm cheek as she tried to chase his lips, unable to stop her annoyed huff from clawing through her, “You haven’t touched me in days, Spence. Please.”

Spencer studied her for a few more seconds before a small grin tugged on his lips. Once again he kissed her, softer this time – almost teasingly, “Lay back down for me, baby.”

She watched his every move with curiosity swimming in her twinkling pupils, following his frame as he settled between her legs, as he pressed his lips to her naked legs, wearing nothing but her panties and a shirt of his. Just from the way Spencer was touching her, (y/n) could tell that he wouldn’t fuck her, not tonight, but he seemed to ache for her just as much, kissing his way up to her already damp panties.

“It’s been torture for me, I fucked my hand in the shower every evening to the thought of you.” His husky voice left her gasping, while her mind imagined Spencer fucking his hand, just a few metres away from her bed, hidden in the shower while she patiently waited for his return. No word managed to leave (y/n), too focused on his touch and the way her body trembled at his words – unable to come up with any teasing words. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already dripping for me. Such a desperate girl for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Spencer, please.” They held eye contact as he pushed her panties aside with his slender fingers, making enough room for his tongue to brush along her folds, groaning at her taste. Her heart was racing, pounding in her chest as if they were hunting an unsub, racing through streets to catch up with those running from them. But as much as (y/n) loved the high of a chase, this was so much better, a touch that left her burning, buzzing through her like a wildfire spreading all too quickly.

Spencer’s eyes were filled with a longing that left (y/n) breathless, unable to stop her moans from clawing through her. Two of his fingers dipped into her tightness, perfectly filling her, without stopping his tongue from moving. He brushed the strong muscle against her pulsing bundle, feeling her shudder beneath him – already close to the edge.

Her trembling fingers tugged on his curls, drawing a breathy moan out of Spencer as he curled his fingers. Spencer couldn’t rip his eyes off her pleasure-drunken features as she came, head thrown back, lips parted. It was a sight he’d never forget, willingly remembering it with every rising of the sun as if she was his own deity to pray to.

“I love you, Spencer.” (Y/n) choked on the words, gasping in surprise as he hastily moved up her body to kiss her breathless once again.

“I love you too.” His words left her grinning, relaxing back against the mattress as he laid down next to her, letting his eyes wander over her gorgeous features. “JJ will understand, it may take some time, but I won’t give you up, (y/n), I never will.”

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid x reader #criminal minds

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 8 months

Text

The Look of Love.

Synopsis - You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader x Eddie Diaz

Warnings - none!! just idiots in love.

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - oh my buddie heart was bursting while writing this. whenever I watch 911, I always think about how easy it'd be to be friends (or more than) with eddie and buck. and then this was born!! hope you enjoy reading this sweetness as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

Buck twirls you around, strong arms circling your waist. Your feet don't touch the ground as he spins you, the skirt of your dress billowing in the breeze. You lean back in his hold, and catch sight of Eddie throwing Christopher up in the air, both of them laughing.

Buck puts you down and grins at you, Cheshire cat smile bright and blinding. You smooth your hands across his chest, flattening out his crisp white dress shirt where you've crinkled it. You tug at his bow tie, straightening it gently. Your gaze meets his, and you beam at him.

"Have I told you how handsome you look tonight, Evan Buckley?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to sway with him. There's a smooth, jazzy melody echoing through the huge backyard, illuminated by golden, twinkling lights.

He quirks a brow at you cheekily before answering.

"I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," you laugh, shrieking as he dips you backwards quickly.

"Well, you look very handsome. I like you in a tux."

You swear you see him blush slightly, heat creeping across his cheeks. He finds his confidence again, sliding his hands across the exposed skin of your back slowly.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," he tells you sincerely, eyes never leaving yours. "I should tell you that more often."

"Yes, you should," you tease, grinning at him.

You take notice of his smile, his relaxed shoulders, the way he's swaying with you effortlessly.

"You love weddings, don't you?"

"Hell yeah I do!" he replies delightedly. "Everyone I love all in one place, dancing, music... what more could you want?"

You can't wipe the smile off your face. He's right. The entire 118 is here, together as a family. Everyone is happy, excited to be celebrating Bobby and Athena's vow renewal. It's not often you all get to leave work at work and enjoy yourselves completely. You plan to make the most of every single second.

You feel two warm hands find your hips from behind, instantly leaning back into the broad chest behind you, knowing who it is immediately.

"Hola, Mr Diaz."

"Hola, hermosa."

"You gonna keep her all to yourself all night, Buckley?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you, over the top of where Bucks are already resting. You're sandwiched between the two of them, completely content.

"We were avoiding you and your terrible dance moves," Buck jokes, the three of you swaying together now.

"Are you hearing this?" Eddie asks incredulously, chuckling into your ear. "My terrible dance moves?"

"Don't listen to him, Eds. His ego lies to him."

"It's called confidence! Sorry if I have faith in my dance moves!"

The three of you laugh, bodies and souls tangled and intertwined on the dance floor.

Across the backyard, Chimney and Hen are sat at their table, watching you, Buck and Eddie move to the music, arms wrapped around one another.

"They really love each other, don't they?"

"Oh, yeah," Hen laughs. "Wish they'd all just admit it."

Chimney looks at his best friend in confusion, brows quirked and face crumpled.

"... What?"

"Oh, come on, Chim," Hen chuckles. "It's twenty twenty three. Get with the program."

"You mean, like, love love," Chim confirms, still puzzled.

"Yes, Howie. Love love. In love. The three of them are completely in love."

Chimney processes for a moment, before a light bulb goes off in his head.

"Oh, shit!" he laughs. "They totally are!"

"Damn, men are oblivious. How am I the only one that's noticed?"

"You aren't," Bobby and Athena say in unison, pulling out chairs to sit at the table.

"But we can't rush them. Good things like this take time," Athena offers.

Bobby glances over at the dance floor. You're holding Buck and Eddie's hands, and Chris is too, the four of you dancing and laughing. He smiles for moment, before speaking.

"You know they basically live together?"

When he's met with confused faces, he continues.

"They all crash at Eddie's place with Christopher so often, they've practically moved in. Buck hasn't slept in his own apartment in months."

"I mean, how do you even... navigate something like that? The three of them? It's so complicated," Chimney asks genuinely.

"They'll figure it out," Bobby assures. "They always do."

With that, he rises from his chair and across the yard. He scoops Christopher up into his arms, promising him cake and soda, much to Eddie's dismay. He winks at Buck before carrying Chris away, leaving the three of you alone.

Eddie surprises you by grabbing your hand and then Bucks, pulling you both away from the crowd.

"Come on. I wanna show you something."

He leads you up and into the guest bathroom of the house, rolling his eyes at you and Bucks suggestive comments. He's first to climb out the window and onto the roof, making sure you get through safely in your dress.

The three of you sit and watch your friends in the yard below, quietly reflecting. You're suddenly aware of the way you're sandwiched in between them again, thighs pressed together. You lean left and rest your head on Eddie's shoulder, interlinking your right hand with Bucks.

"How lucky am I?" you breathe. "To be surrounded by so much love."

Eddie rests his head atop of yours, smiling as he watches Buck lean in to rest his on your shoulder. The three of you exhale.

"We're the lucky ones," Buck murmurs. "I never thought I'd have this."

"Well you do," Eddie reassures. "And we're not going anywhere, Buckley."

"He's right, Buck. We're not going anywhere. Ever."

Evan sits up to kiss you on the cheek, before leaning over you and doing the same to Eddie.

The three of you sit on the roof, bodies and souls intertwined, illuminated by the moonlight. How lucky you are, to be surrounded by so much love.

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inlovewithpandora · 1 month

Text

ᥫ᭡ — Ass Obsession

Artists — Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Music Submission from: Anonymous — “Whatchu doing out here wit all that ass baby?” With rafe, he’ll smack it in jeans, leggings, shorts, a skirt, in a DRESS. as long as he’s got his hands on your ass, he’ll grab it infront of his friends when you try to hand him the bottle of beer you brought back from the bar while he plays golf with topper at the country club, he’s so set he’s obsessed with it grabbing it and smacking when he fucks you nice and slow while you beg him to go faster, then he’ll make you ride it in reverse cowgirl while he controls it and he’ll put that ass to work 😫😫

Genre — Headcanons

Lyrics — Rafe who’s obsessed with your lovely ass and has to find a way to admire or smack it in every situation.

Music Advisory — fluff, light smut (17+), implied brat!tamer Rafe/ implied brat!reader, implied Dacryphilia kink, brief mention of recording sex, brief p in v scenes

Duration — 700 words

Words from Artist — My first Outer banks fic! I’m so excited to be sharing this fic with y’all. I’ve been wanting to write for obx for a while and now I’m finally doing it. Thank you anon for sending this in, I hope this fic finds you and that I wrote your request to your liking! Send me an ask and lmk how you feel about the fic. Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — main m.list・obx taglist・navigation

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who loves smacking your ass in any type of clothing you wear. Wearing a pair of jeans or leggings that are sculpting your ass perfectly? He’s smacking it.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who loves when it’s a hot day in Outer Banks because he knows you’ll be wearing a pair of those tiny shorts that are only a few inches longer than your panties.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who enjoys watching you run around the beach in your bikini so he can admire the way your ass ripples with each step you take.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who’s happy when you decide to come to the gym with him and workout because he gets to watch you do squats in the TikTok leggings he bought for you that makes your ass look 10 times fatter.

When you’re in the zone, doing your third set of squats, you realize that you don’t hear the clanking of the bench press every so often when Rafe takes a break in between reps. You turn around to see what he’s doing and you see him standing behind you with his eyes honed in on your ass while biting his lower lip, making you playfully roll your eyes. “Rafe, aren’t you supposed to be working out?”

“I can’t concentrate with your ass moving like that in front of me.”

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who makes his lap your permanent seat. He wants to feel your soft cheeks against him, wrap his arms around your waist, and rub his hands on your thighs.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who makes your ass his permanent hand placement when out in public so he can scare men away and let them know your his and his only. When he notices a man staring at you he gives your flesh a firm squeeze to let him know you’re already taken.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who loves bringing you to the country club with him when he wants to play golf with his friends so he can watch you walk around in a tennis skirt that shows the bottom of your cheeks when a breeze flows by.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who asks you to grab his golfballs out of every hole after he sinks the ball so he can watch your pretty little ass on display as you bend over and pick it up.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who doesn’t mind grabbing your ass in front of his friends. He loves showing you off anyway and this just allows him to let his friends know what they’re missing out on. He loves bragging to Topper and Kelce about how many perks come with you being blessed in the backside region.

“She knows how to throw that shit back, I love putting that ass to work.” Rafe gloats with a glint in his eye, taking a swig of his beer as a flashback runs through his mind from last night from when he had you bent over his kitchen counter, begging him to go faster as he rails into you.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who thanks you for grabbing him a beer from the bar with a smack on the ass and a smirk before whispering in your ear that when you get home he’s gonna wear your ass out.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who loves fucking you nice and slow from behind, too mesmerized by watching your ass slam against his pelvis and how your pussy is eating his dick up to change his pace.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who makes you ride his dick in reverse cowgirl so he can cherish the view of round ass and control the way it moves against him because if he lets you take control you'll have him finishing too quick.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who sends a smack to your ass during sex each time you do something he loves, it a physical thing he does sometimes to let you know your pleasing him well instead of verbally praising you.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who punishes you when you're being bratty by bending you over and sending harsh slaps to your ass while feeling his dick get hard at the sight of eyes are filling with tears and how you're begging him to stop, even though you and him know that you don’t want to stop one bit.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who sometimes pulls out his phone and records mid-session when you're throwing it back. You’re doing so well that he just has to have this video for later when you aren’t around and he needs to jerk off for a quick release.

木 — Ass Obsessed!Rafe who loves pulling out of you when he’s close to cumming and finishes on your ass, spraying his sticky white cum on every inch of your skin as an act of marking his territory. It fills him with pride knowing that he’s the only one that’s ever gotten to see your ass in such a marvelous way and he would love to keep it that way.

Fanbase — @ietss @shimmeringana @ims1 @anything4yooongi @oatmealisweird @ilovechickfilasauce @brooklynadoresdior @jordscosplay @taylormarieee @rivivie

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lewdmommie · 10 months

Text

Just friends

Summary: can y/n manage being just friends?

Word count: 7.k

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, oral sex, language, fluff, angst, violence, gore, sexual content,panic attack etc

(Like, comment, reblog for part four💗)

This is part 3 of one night stand

Part 1

Part 2

“We need to talk about yesterday.” You state firmly. Your tone was completely different from your usual lighthearted and funny personality. König and Ghost have quite literally seen you crack a joke in the middle of open gunfire. This was uncharted territory for them, whatever you were about to say had to be important. You take a deep breath, thinking of your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to hurt anyone again…especially König.

“Spit it out rookie.” Ghost says annoyed.

“Oh god how do I even say this…I feel something…something I can’t explain when I’m with you.” You look at König, he shifts nervously under your gaze.

“And with you.” Your head turns to face Ghost, staring into those glimmering obsidian eyes. He breaks eye contact looking far off into the distance without a word.

“I don’t know what it means but I know it’s something I can’t ignore.” Your brow scrunches as you choke the words out.

“I want to get to know you both and I’m here to ask for that opportunity. I’m here to ask you to be my friends. No titles. No rankings. No romance. Just…friends.” Your teeth nibble at your lower lip waiting for someone else to talk. It was nerve racking not being able to read their facial expressions. Their body language didn’t give much away either, you shift on your heels.

“That’s what you barged in here to ask for… friendship?” He slowly rises from his desk glaring in your direction.

“Well…yeah” Your voice is low.

“Do you really think friendship can fix everything?” Königs voice is dark, he speaks the word friendship as if it was something rancid on his tongue.

“I’m not saying it can I just…” you explain.

“I don’t need to be a part of whatever you two have going on. Leave. both of you.” Ghost barks.

“You seemed to be a part of it yesterday when you had your hands all over her.” König rasps, turning his killer gaze onto him. Ghost strides from behind the desk, his heavy footsteps fill the air as he takes slow deliberate steps forward. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. A chill runs down your spine as you’re standing flush in between these skyscrapers. He stands tall looking König straight in the eyes, not even acknowledging your presence between them.

“I don’t like your tone colonel. I think you’d better change that.” His head tilts mockingly, sizing him up.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you sergeant.” He beams into him like white hot lasers.

“Hah, you’ve always been balsy König, could always count on you to get the job done. But I want you to remember something…you can beat them out there on that battlefield but here this is my territory and you won’t win.” He steps closer making sure he heard every word.

“Why don't we find out serg.” He says through clenched teeth. At this point you’re sure they have completely forgotten your existence . You plant your palms on ghosts chest pushing him back, he seemed to snap back to reality realizing you were still there.

“This isn’t the time or the place…no war within our army. Those are your words sergeant! As a leader you have to practice and enforce that as law. König I know you’re angry and have every right to be but last night was training and that’s all. I won’t keep repeating myself anymore, I get that it’s hard to trust but you’re going to have to try.” You scold.

“ Why do you care so much? How can you stand here and act like you know what I want. You don’t know anything. I’ve never given you the impression that-“ Simon rambles.

“I know it sounds stupid, crazy even, but I know you want to get closer to me Ghost.” You say gently, König tenses at the soft tone of your voice…had you ever spoken to him that way? He couldn’t recall a time you had, and that made him envious.

“You need someone. You’ve spent so much of your time in isolation, it’s time to let people in.” Never had he heard you sound so sure of yourself.

How could you break down his walls so easily, there is something about you that made him feel at ease. When he’s with you it feels like he’s allowed to smile,Things feel easier…happier. But he knew from experience things like this didn’t come so easy. People always get hurt when love is involved.

“And König…I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of being angry and resentful towards each other. These past few weeks have brought us closer together and I don’t want to ruin that with one misunderstanding.” His face burns tomato red under his mask, but he wouldn’t show it. His shoulder stiffen as if he’d been sliced across the chest. How could such beautiful words hurt this bad , you’d summed up his feelings for you perfectly but he couldn’t shake the thought of you being so involved with Ghost. Being your friend sounds like absolute torture but it was a ray of hope. Hope that one day maybe you would undoubtedly love him back. He felt like a lost puppy waiting to be owned by you…it was foolish but he couldn’t stop himself. Your naivety muddled the fact that this would be war and you were the prize.

“It has always been you. I’ve got so much blood on my hands it could run a river red and yet you were granted the title of sergeant. You’ve somehow made sure I was one step below you but that’s gonna change. You said I couldn’t win…watch me.” He says sharply.

“So this is your playing field…her?” Ghost looks you up and down with judgmental eyes. You grimace wondering why he looked so unimpressed.

“Hah, fine I’ll bite. What are the rules of the game?” Ghost chuckles, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“We get individual days to spend with y/n and the other person cannot interfere.”

“And what about the days that aren’t accounted for?” His head tilts curiously.

“First come first serve. It’s up to y/n who she would want to spend that free time with even though I know it’ll be me. No one likes being around you.” König taunts, it isn’t clear if it’s the jealousy talking or the militant hunger for victory. Either way you didn’t appreciate them auctioning off your time and affection like some silly little game.

“You’re on. It’s about time I remind you of your place, colonel.” He reaches out an open palm, König grasps it firmly, shaking on the terms.

It’s like everything you said completely went over their heads but you knew it would take patience and time to build a stronger relationship with them. If thinking of it as a competition got them on board, then you’d just have to play along.

Your arms tremble as you push the weighted bar up with all your strength. Your shoulders burn with each rep begging for a break, to your body’s dismay, you were just warming up. You look up into caramel colored eyes, Maya smiles down at you as she helps support the weight of the bar. With a final push you line it up with the metal stand, it lands with a loud crack. You sit up, sweat pouring down your face. Maya removes the white towel from around her neck, she dabs away the stray droplets as they fall. She was always right there at your side helping you with even the tiniest of things.

“Remember to hydrate. The body can lose up to 10 liters of water a day when active.” She hands you her purple water bottle.

“Your knowledge never ceases to amaze me, you're gonna make a great doctor one day.” You tip the bottle up, taking several gulps before coming back up for air. Maya’s eyes softened, she needed to hear that; with all the death and injuries on base that passion could be lost. She is a practicing apprentice Doctor on base as she studies remotely to get her doctorate in medical science. Balancing education with active military duty was no easy feat, personal attachment can get in the way. People she laughed with, pulled pranks on, sat and had meals with…had died in her arms. Brutal excruciating deaths that she could do nothing about. No matter how hard she tried to save everyone…their blood still stained her hands. She thought often about what she would do if you got hurt…could she save you? Maya shakes the negative thoughts away reminding herself that you were one of the special forces best. You may be a handful but you were damn good at your job.

“Thank you y/n, you don’t know how much that means to me.” She stamps a kiss on your forehead.

“I walked in on Sergeant Ghost and Colonel König talking about some new intel on the target. There might be a raid soon, I know how anxious you are with new missions.” A look of discomfort flashes on her face leaving just as quickly. She puts on a fake smile not wanting to put any more stress on you. You were the one who would be out there on the front lines risking your life and she didn’t want to worry you.

“I’m okay,really, you get used to it.” You weren’t sure if she was trying to convince you or herself.

“If you ever need to talk…I am here Maya. I’m always here.” You bore into her with sincere eyes.

“and that’s why you’re my best friend. Now come on, we gotta keep that heart rate up.” She takes your hand, helping you to your feet. The two of you walked over to the pull up bar, arm day was not fun…at all. Your muscles were already achy and tired but you had to push in order to build endurance.

“Can’t I just work on legs today, that’s so much easier.” You whine, Maya laughs patting your lower back.

“As much as I agree with that statement, no. You handle high caliber weaponry. if you’re not strong, All that push back could damage your muscles.” She raises her arms holding the stretches in ten second intervals. Because of her insane height there is no need to use a stepping ladder, she simply reaches up and gets to work. Her fingers graze the bar before pulling back suddenly.

“I forgot my chalk, it helps prevent blisters, I’ll be back. Go ahead and start your sets without me. I gotta run back to our room.” She jogs off leaving you standing alone in the gym. You always felt slightly self conscious being in the weight room without a partner. Like everyone was watching you. Judging you. In reality no one even glanced your way but that didn’t stop the anxiety from striking. A small tremor shakes your hands as you reach up for the bar. It’s way too tall to grab on your own, Maya was usually there to give you a lift. You scan the area for a spare stepping stool or chair but everything is occupied. Eyes. Eyes everywhere. There looked to be two of everything as your vision doubled.The room begins to spin and your knees feel weak, where was Maya? When would she be back? Maya? Maya? Maya?!

“Y/n look at me. Are you okay? Should I take you to the infirmary?” Your vision begins to focus turning the two ghosts in front of you, into one. Your breathing is shaky, you nod unable to speak. His head tilts forward with concern, his bare hand cups

your elbow as he pulls you closer.

“Your eye movements are unsteady,breathing accelerated, pupils dilated…you’re having a panic attack. Talk to me y/n what is distressing you?” His voice is gentle, calming even.

“People. Just so many people. M-Maya left… I’m alone. I-I don’t like being alone.”you choke. His heart breaks at your words, loneliness was no stranger to him. Thinking back, Ghost couldn’t recall a time when you weren’t surrounded by people. He figured it’s because of how likable and fun you were but now the dots began to connect. You made sure to never be alone because it scared you…just like it scared him.

“I’ll stay with you.” His voice was earnest, he surprised himself with his sudden reaction. Normally Ghost worked out alone as he did with most things. But he wanted to help you, seeing you so shaken up tugged at something deep inside him.

“That’s it…slow deep breaths. One…two… exhale three. Very good.” He coaches. He looked to be very familiar with this sort of thing, you wondered if he’d dealt with this before. Ghost didn’t seem like the type to deal with anxiousness, he was always so cool headed.

“I’m good now.” You huff.

“Are you sure? We can go somewhere more private.” Your face heats up at his word choice, you remember the wet dream from just nights ago.

“N-no I’m fine, I still have a few sets to do.” You slide your elbow from his grasp.

“Then let’s do it… I assume your next set is pull ups and judging by your size, you usually have Maya help you up?” He hypothesized walking behind you to examine the bar.

“Yeah Maya always lifts me up-“ your words are cut off by his strong hands sinking into your waist. His fingers press into the soft plush of your hips, the crotch of his cargos rubs against your ass. His eyes fall low as he stares down at you, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles. You don’t speak up, getting lost in the comfort of his touch. The rush of his heart vibrates through your back, the rise and fall of his chest quickens. You can hear the heaviness in his breath, the heat in his mask makes sweat bead at his brow. This isn’t the first time your bodies have met this closely but somehow this felt…Different. You snap to the reality that there is a room full of people here witnessing this moment. That idea made you focus on the initial goal…pull ups.

“I’m ready.” You assure, jumping as he hoists your body up with ease. Your fingers begin to slip, ghost bounces you up, allowing you to readjust the grip.

Even with the extra help, your arms burn as you pull the entirety of your weight up and over the bar. Your chin taps the cool metal marking one successful rep, ghost pats your thigh.

“Good job, make sure you’re breathing with each pull.” He instructs, his arms squish the fluff of your upper thighs. You nod, extending the length of your arms preparing for the next pull. Ghost is painfully aware of how your ass is pressed against his upper chest. His face is inches from the smooth damp skin of your back, his eyes track the small trickle of sweat that runs down your spine. He says a silent prayer, begging not to get hard in front of his subordinates. Even the slightest touch of your body drove him fucking mad, he’d been attracted to women before but never like this. Those thoughts were always intrusive and fleeting, he didn't let his mind wander too deeply but you…he imagined ripping those mauve pink leggings open and ramming every solid inch of his cock inside you. He hated how much control you had over him without even trying.

“I-I can’t take anymore” you groan, feeling the intense burning sensation growing in your arms.

Oh come on, he thinks. You couldn’t have chosen a better word choice, a shock shoots up his leg activating his dormant member. He nearly drops you as the mirror shows him a glimpse of his hard dick poking through his gray sweatpants. He couldn’t let you see him like this, before you could blink your feet were on the ground and ghost was B lining it to the men’s locker room.

“Hey wait where are you going?!” You call as he scurries away. He doesn’t turn around or even answer as he disappears into the white locker room door. Well that was rude, you think. You were used to him treating you like some kind of germ but this seemed off and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

There still hadn’t been any sign of Maya since earlier in the weight room, a sinking feeling pulls at your stomach. It wasn’t like her to just up and disappear without saying a word . The military base wasn’t the biggest in the world so there weren't many places she could have gone. Your eyes scan the mess hall landing on the table you two usually shared. Empty. No sign of her at all, you begin to worry what would keep her from eating lunch. Lunch is Maya’s favorite time of day apart from breakfast and dinner, this was strange. You look at the lunch line and physically cringe when you see that ominous brown paper bag with your name on it. It wouldn’t bother you one bit if you never saw another peanut butter and jelly ever again. You snake through the crowd and head toward the exit deciding to go search for her, it’s what she would have done for you. Just as you burst out of the sea of soldiers there is a deep voice bellowing down the long tan hallway.

“Y/n” a voice rumbles in the distance. Loud heavy footsteps shake the ground as König jogs in your direction.

“I didn’t see you in the mess hall, have you eaten already?” His words are rushed and nervous.

“No I haven’t, I was actually going to-“ he chimes in disregarding the rest of your sentence.

“That’s perfect! I wanted to invite you to have lunch with me.” His voice sounds energetic.

“Well I was just about to go look for Maya…” you trail looking around trying to spot her.

“Oh I saw her a few minutes ago when I was walking past the infirmary.” He says. The infirmary should have been the first place you looked, Maya did tons of overtime with Dr.Bradshaw. Extra hours counted as field work for her university grade, but overworking wasn’t always a good sign for her. You take a mental note to ask her later not wanting to disturb her study time with the Doctor. There was a nagging urge to ask König exactly what she was up to when he saw her but you decided not to snoop. If there was an issue she would come to you about it, you were always there for her and she knew that…or at least you hoped she did.

“Oh okay then I’ll just talk to her later thanks.” You spin on your heels ready to jog back to the cafeteria. A leather gloved hand entraps your wrist, holding you still. Your head whips around staring up into his forest green eyes, they dart back and forth searching your face.

“I’m sorry, I-I uh did you have plans for lunch today? If so I completely understand…I know you might still be worried about Maya.” His voice is shaky.

“No I don’t have plans for lunch, ugh I’m the one who should be sorry I almost blew you off just now. What kind of friend am I?” You joke. His chest tightens at the word friend, he drops your hand back to your side. It catches your attention but you breeze by it not wanting to cause any damage.

“I’d love to have lunch with you König.” You say enthusiastically trying to salvage the situation.

“Perfect. Let’s go, try to act normal.” He nods in the directions of the exit motioning you to follow his lead. You had a feeling this was going to be another mission impossible, König mixed with the words “act normal” never turned out good. Since the recent feud with ghost he was more rebellious than ever. You cautiously walk behind him trailing him out of the double doors, the sun beats down on your skin. Your eyes squint from the sudden lighting change, your hand lifts to shade your forehead blocking out the brightness. Las Almas Mexico was a beautiful mountainous place with endless desert views. There were small cities with an economy based on agriculture and farming. Like every major metropolitan region there are city areas for entertainment and tourism. The base was quite a distance from those areas, the deserts granted seclusion. Most of the drug activity and gang violence originated in the city areas. Although there were plenty of small gangs they all worked under the one major crime organization in the city…The Las Almas Cartel. The whole reason for your special forces deployment was to monitor and take down this organization. They participated in egregious crimes against the residents of Las Almas and helped push the drug epidemic throughout multiple countries. You walk forward,your shoulder brushes his arm ever so slightly. His eyes shift away with embarrassment, he hadn’t touched you since that night. People chirp hello’s as you slip through the ocean of workers, there were so many familiar happy faces in the crowd. You are grateful König is by your side or all the attention could have become overwhelming very quickly. It warmed your heart to be loved by so many but it became exhausting, always chasing approval from others.

König senses a shift in your mood, boldly, he rests his big hand on your lower back; ushering you along. He leads you to the vehicle repair and storage shed. There are lanes wall to wall filled with earth toned military vehicles ranging from Humvee’s to M113’s.

“Oh hey y/n! What are you doing all the way out here darlin’?” His southern twang is thick. The dimples in his cheeks deepen as he smiles toothy and big. His giant veiny hands stain the white cloth as he wipes away black sludge.

“Hey Jack, I hope we didn’t interrupt your work.”

“You could never bother me y/n seeing you is always a treat. Speaking of treats, where’s ol doll face Maya I haven’t gotten my daily fix of her.” He laughs. Jack was a flirt that was no secret but everyone knew about his unrequited love for Maya. Most people found her attractive but Jack’s feelings were public, making sure to scare off anyone who thought about making a move. They were just like an old married couple, arguing about any and everything.

“She’s working in the infirmary.” You explain.

“I’m gonna have to go and pay her a visit, she can’t run forever.” Wrinkles form at the corner of his eyes as he smiles ear to ear.

You can’t help but cheese at his friendly face. König didn’t appreciate Jack's lingering gaze. His eyes slit with annoyance, why were you smiling at him like that? He thinks burning with jealousy.

“I’m taking a Jeep on patrol.” He stated plainly.

“Sure thing, I’ll just need to see that authorization letter from the sergeant.” He says wiping the oil from his cheek.

“I am your Colonel. I grant myself authorization.” His arms fold over his chest as he stands tall and confident.

“But the sergeant said-“ Jack starts.

“Unless you want to be scrubbing toilets for a week I suggest you give me the keys. If not, I’ll just have to report you for interference with a mandatory patrol. Are we clear?” His voice is stern. You find yourself gawking at him. his power had you melting in his gloved palm. König didn’t like abusing his power but there was no way he’d go beg ghost to allow him to take you out. If he wanted you to himself he would make that happen at any cost. It didn’t matter who he had to step over as long as he got to be with you. Jack stares him down for a moment weighing out his options, he could either disobey Ghost and get punished or disobey König and get punished. Great choices he think’s sarcastically.

“Look, if you’re gonna take her out you gotta be back before sunset or else ghost is gonna be on my ass…deal?” He extends a hand to König.

“Deal.” He takes his hand firmly.

“Here I just did an oil change on her so she’s the best I’ve got right now. I’m still repair’n the others.” He tosses him a set of Keys with a dog tag attached. König nods, throwing his black duffel bag in the back seat. You never understood the idea of jeeps being doorless but as you hop in it makes a little more sense. If you’re being shot at you could literally jump right in. You chuckle at the ridiculous thought of you diving into a moving jeep.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, clicking his seat belt and cranking the ignition.

“Nothing, it's dumb.” You laugh tugging the seat belt over your chest. He chuckles backing out of the garage. His arm lays across the back of your headrest as he looks behind him making sure no one was there. Your thighs clench at his focused body language, how did he manage to turn you on with such mundane tasks. The car whips around, he straightens the wheel and puts the gear in drive.

An armed soldier from the gate walks up to the driver's side scoping out the inside of the car.

“Colonel. Where are you headed?” He salutes.

“Me and y/n will be holding a patrol unit on the mountain. There’s been reports of suspicious activity by the locals.” He lies smoothly. The mask came in handy since without it every emotion he felt would be on display. König is, unbenounced to everyone else,a terrible liar. His face gives him away every time. Despite what people think he could be read like a book if it wasn’t for the mask.

“Yes sir. Open the gate!” He calls.

König’s shoulders relax as the metal gates swing open. Mission accomplished. He finally had you to himself for a day. After spotting your workout with the sergeant; he had to find a way to steal your attention back. Your head leans out the door watching in awe as the ground gets further away. The mountain road is bumpy and narrow, your hand grips the seatbelt tightly.

“Scared of heights?” He asks, looking over at you with concern.

“Of course not, keep your eyes on the road.” You scold.

“You know it doesn’t help to look down.” He reaches over, tugging your chin away from the ground. His fingers linger for a second before returning to the wheel. You’d seen this view from the chopper when you first arrived on base but this is a new perspective and it is gorgeous. The cacti bloomed with tiny magenta flowers, the dry soil cracked into interesting shapes. Small animals poke their heads from the grooves in the ground,and Even the sky is clear and vast. If maps didn’t exist you’d have sworn the land stretched on forever. The heat is also comforting, the sun wraps you in a tight embrace kissing your skin. You wished you could see his face, you wondered if he was enamored with the scenery just as you are.

“It’s amazing isn’t it…like a whole new world.” He breathes looking around curiously. One hand gripped the wheel and the other pointed to a viper green snake in the distance.

“Did you see that?!” He exclaims excitedly.

“I did.” You say softly.

He coughs awkwardly, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you but animals are his weakness. He felt an obligation to protect creatures smaller than him, what better way to use his gigantic size. After what felt like an eternity he pulls into an open area at the top of the mountain overlooking the base. He puts the car in park and takes the key from the ignition. You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning your body to hop down; König jogs around the vehicle blocking your path.

“Allow me.” He pretends to open an invisible door.

You jump down and punch his arm playfully. You both laugh filling the open air with joy. He admires you bent over laughing from your gut, a real laugh, that’s when you were most beautiful. He loved seeing happiness radiate from you, you wore it well. He wanted to make everyday a good day filled with bliss, he dreamed of one day being the one to make that a reality for you. He swings his duffel bag out with a huff walking over to a clear patch of land. With razor focus he unzips the bag unloading its contents onto the sandy ground. He lays a green blanket down before laying zip lock bags of mystery foods on to the cloth. To finish off the set up he sets up two colas on either side of the picnic blanket. It was one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, he plops down in the blanket waving you over. You can’t help but smile at the exquisite dining arrangement designed by the renowned König.

“Beautiful set up chef.” You joke.

“On today’s menu we have the chefs’ choice…Ham and cheese sandwich. My secret ingredient is melted cheese courtesy of today’s weather. Strawberries, hand picked by me from the local farmers market. And two delicious warm cokes.” Your nose scrunches in disgust, earning a hearty laugh from the colonel. His laugh was like liquid gold, it rumbled deep, shaking your core. It’s a shame others didn’t get to witness this playful side of him.

“Sounds… yummy.” You say snagging a ham sandwich. You unzip the bag and have an experimental bite. To your surprise it’s not too bad, somehow the sun melted cheese worked. Not something you’d have regularly for a snack but the fact that König cooked it, made it taste better. You can’t imagine him moving around the kitchen, did he keep the mask on or take it off? You giggle at the image of him with an apron and mask on.

“You’re always giggling and I’m never a part of the joke.” He pouts.

“I was just imagining you cooking in a cute little apron. Would you keep the mask on or take it off.” You tease.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He slips his sandwich under the hem of his mask, taking a bite. At this angle the sunlight glows behind you like a halo. König admires how angelic you are, he didn’t understand how someone could look so perfect. There wasn’t a word in any language that could describe your beauty, inside and out you were radiant. A rose blush sweeps his face, he looks away realizing how long he’s been staring. Butterflies flutter in your stomach.You turn away relocating your attention to the incredible view. At this height the wind whips strongly , blowing a cool breeze through the air. You close your eyes tilting your face to the sky, his eyes trail down your neck peering at the steady thump of your vein. He remembers the way you look with your pulse beating out of control;lustful eye low eyes staring back at him. That night you took a piece of him with you, he has never been so needy for a woman in his life. In a metaphorical sense you were a succubus and he would gladly give up his soul.

“God you’re gorgeous.” He breathes. Your eyes widen as you stammer for words nervously.

“W-what, you can’t just say that out of nowhere.” You stutter.

“Should I give you a warning next time?” He flirts.

“You’re always messing with me.” You slap his hand. He smirks loving how you crumble for him. He reaches over to grab the bag of fresh strawberries, his palm brushes the base of your thigh. He slides a berry under his mask, making a sound of approval.

“Mmm. These are really good. Try it.” He plucks a strawberry from the bag, holding it up to your lips.

You’re hesitant for a while looking at the berry in disbelief, he couldn’t be serious. This is definitely not something friends do but you do have a habit of overthinking things. Maybe this is one of those things, it’s just a strawberry, nothing less, and nothing more. You nod coyly, leaning in and wrapping your plump lips around the fruit as your teeth sink in; taking a small bite. His jaw tenses as he fights back the urge to lick the sticky juices from your mouth. With his free hand he lifts his mask, exposing the lower portion of his face. There is an intensity behind his eyes as he slides the rest of your half eaten berry past his blushed lips.

“You’re right, these are…really…good.” You trail as he closes the distance between you.

“Here, have some more then.” He bites another one. His giant hand rests at the back of your neck pulling you closer inch by inch. All thoughts evacuate your mind as his soft breath brushes your lips. He’s so close you can almost taste him. So achingly close that it makes your heart leap right out of your chest. Why was he doing this to you, making you yearn to feel him again. Reminding you of the mind bending orgasms he gave you that night. It wasn’t fair, how could you be friends when he is so irresistible? You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t. He brushes his soft warm lips over yours begging for permission, pleading for just one kiss. You did. You’re caught in his net as your lips meld desperately in a symphony of passion. His tongue spreads the strawberry nectar across your taste buds making the kiss intoxicatingly sweet. He shifts onto his knees towering over you, never breaking the kiss. He leans down deepening it, gripping the curve of your hips; a camo clad knee forces through the barrier of your thighs. It’s feverish and greedy, he kisses you like he’ll never get the chance to again. Your back arches into his touch, a loud moan echoes through the mountain as he teases your pulsing clit. The friction was unbearable, it felt good but it wasn’t enough. You wanted, no, needed more. Your pussy quivers as he breaks the kiss to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“W-we can’t. Friends don’t uhn-friends can’t do this.”You pant.

“I want to please you. I didn’t get to show you all of my tricks last time.” He whispers seductively. He pushes you back onto your elbows, clearing the picnic blanket in one swoop of his hand. You stare down at him, your breathing is erratic wondering what his next move will be. Strong calloused fingers work the complicated buckle of your work pants. Soon your pants are not only unbuckled but being slid down the length of your legs. Your chunky black combat boots prevented them from going any further so naturally he removed those too; leaving you completely exposed from the waist down. You couldn’t believe you were letting this happen and in a desert nonetheless. König wastes no time grasping your hips and lifting your pelvis, leveling your pussy with his eager mouth. Your shoulders and head rest on the blanket while your lower half is suspended upward; legs dangling on his hunched shoulders. Even with him leaning over, your ass is still elevated at a staggering height. You’re completely at his mercy, no matter how much you squirm his grip is iron tight. The black fabric of his mask sits on the plush of your mound hiding his face as he kisses your warm lower lips. You couldn’t see anything from this angle and the mask added even more security to his next action. You watch the clouds move up above as he traces the glazed slit of your entrance, your hips buck in response. A quiet whimper vibrates your skin as he tastes you for the first time, the scent of your arousal fills the limited space in his mask. Every breath he took was filled with you, that one lick already had his dick frustratingly hard and throbbing.

“Du schmeckst so verdammt fantastisch (you taste so fucking amazing)” he mumbles into your heat. It’s impossible to hold back any more, his tongue slithers up and down the slippery split of your cunt. The tip of his tongue draws circles around your stiff clit, he nips and sucks at the bundle of nerves making your legs shake. His hands sink into your thighs as he pushes deeper into your delectable pussy. The thick flat of his tongue laps at your labia teasing the wet folds of your outer sex. Your muscles contract as he explores every crevice of your dewy flower, your juices dribble down his chin as he teases the perimeter of your tight hole. You grind up into his face wanting him to go further tasting the deepest parts of your sweetness. His hands release your thighs leaving the heavy lifting to your core strength. Your body shakes as you fight to stay in this position not wanting the pleasure to end.

“That’s it, you're doing so good Schatz(love) you’re going to have to put in some work to cum.” He breathes. His hands tug at your shirt fighting to push it up past your breast. You decide to help him out, lifting your shirt and black bra in one motion; your nipples are stiff with arousal. He rolls your hard peaks between his fingers, teasing and caressing the sensitive buds. Your mouth falls slack as his tongue eases into you, your walls clench as he strokes your inner velvet. A sloshing wet sound fills the air as he fucks your cunt with his long skillful tongue. Your hands fist the blanket as you become overwhelmed by all the sensations. How could something wrong feel so good.

“No no no you can’t cum yet, I am still enjoying my meal.” He reprimands. You bite your lip and stare up at him with pleading teary eyes.

“P-please let me cum, s’to much c-can’t hold it please.” You cry.

“Look at me Prinzessin. Focus on me. Just like that, I’m so proud of you. Don’t give up beautiful. You're taking it so well.” He praises, locking eyes with you. He feels your pussy flutter on his tongue as you fight the urge to drench his face. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently, with a final pull sending you tumbling over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum, need to cum fuck-“

Your spent cunt spurts delicious cream all over Königs face, drenching his mask.

“Look at the mess you made. Naughty girl.” He eases your body back to the ground, licking his lips. You lie there twitching, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Suns going down. We’d better start heading back to base.” He says in a disappointed tone. He wished this day could last forever but that wasn’t realistic. The last thing he wanted to deal with was ghost pulling rank on him again. You nod helping him pack his duffel bag, he smiles as your hands brush when reaching for the same items.

“I had so much fun with you today.” You chat loading the leftover snacks into the bag.

“Me too. We should come back here soon, I’ll pack better lunches next time.” He promises, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

“Everything was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.” You assure, swallowing back the feelings of regret. What did this mean moving forward, did you make the mistake of leading him on again? König catches a glimpse of doubt on your face and speaks up.

“Today…never happened. We hung out, as friends.” He pats your head. You smile up at him appreciating his kindness and understanding, he knew you never meant to hurt him. Today was all on him, he took that step knowing what it meant and he’d do it again. He knows you need time to figure things out and he was done being impatient. He is sure about his feelings for you and is willing to wait as long as it takes.

“Let’s go.” He taps your butt as he walks by. You gasp smacking his back in return,trailing behind him to the jeep. He tosses the duffle bag in the back seat, walking around to help you into the car.

You stop in your tracks peering up into his beautiful lush green eyes, his heart thumps rapidly.

“Did you forget something?” He asks.

“No. You’re just…incredible you know that.”

“Y/n I-Get down!” He leaps forward shielding your body as you two tumble to the ground in a panic.

“Ah! Scheisse! I’ve been hit.” He groans, squeezing the oozing gunshot wound. A ringing sounds in your ears from the blast, everything moves in slow motion as you help him limp to the Jeep.

“A fucking sniper. We have to move! Now! Drive” he instructs baring down his teeth, holding back a scream. His leg is on fire, blood spurts between his fingers as he applies pressure. The gas pedal is touching the floor as you push the vehicle as fast as it’ll go. Your fist beats down on the horn trying to alert the front gate you’re coming in hot. one hand swerves the wheel frantically twisting and turning and the other is on Königs head holding him close as you quick fire words of affirmation.

“It’s gonna be okay, please stay with me. Hang on alittle longer. König? König?! Fuck!” You sob whipping the wheel back and forth making it harder for the snipe to aim. His consciousness begins to fade from the excessive blood loss; the once cream flooring of the Jeep is now a cherry red. His hand goes limp as he faints no longer applying pressure to the wound. He’s fading fast.

“No no no wake up. I know you’re sleepy but stay with me please please König we’re almost there.” Tears stream down your face as you beat down on the horn. The gate is a few feet away, the soldier on guard sees you approaching at 150 miles an hour. He sounds the alarm, triggering the gate to open up slowly. You can’t let up on the speed it’s too late, you have to push it. Any further delay could cost him his life, you slam your foot to the floor giving it all you’ve got. A loud crack slices through the air as you burst through the half opened gate, taking the side view mirrors off in the process. Both feet hit the brakes forcing you to a violent stop. You jump out, yelling for back up.

“Please help me, he's hit! The colonel has been shot! Please he isn’t responding help me!” You scream, wrapping your hands around his calf trying to stop the bleeding.

“Y/n! What happened?!” Maya runs up taking off her shirt to use as a makeshift tourniquet.

“They shot him.” You hyperventilate.

“Who shot him?! Get him to the operating room now!” She barks at the nearby soldiers.

“I-I don’t know…” you sob watching the men carry him away.

To be continued?…

2K notes · View notes

suashii · 5 months

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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒮𝐸𝒳𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒮𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮 — the setters and their top kinks

info ⭑ includes: miya atsumu, oikawa toru, akaashi keiji, sugawara koushi, semi eita ﾉ f!reader, nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ degradation ﾉ impact play ﾉ daddy kink ﾉ dumbification ﾉ edging ﾉ body worship ﾉ praise kink ﾉ dacryphilia ﾉ virgin kink ﾉ corruption kink ﾉ all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ ATSUMU + DEGRADATION & IMPACT PLAY

he’d never call you such lewd, dirty names outside the bedroom, but he can’t ignore how each one goes straight to your pussy. his personal favorites are “whore” and “toy”. he never thought he’d find so much pleasure in bullying, humiliating, you. and he’ll never get over the way you tighten and flutter around his cock when his hand makes contact with your clit or ass. your surprised squeals are like music to his ears and the marks he leaves behind are always a pretty reminder of the night’s activities the next day.

“listen to you, whimpering like a whore when i slap your ass. i’m starting to think you like getting spanked. mm, maybe i should give you another one.”

₊˚ପ⊹ OIKAWA + DADDY KINK & DUMBIFICATION

he gets some sort of rush from hearing you call him daddy. maybe it’s the way you peer up at him through your lashes as you do so. or maybe it’s the blatant embarrassment that you try and fail to hide by biting your lip. can you blame him for wanting to see you completely fucked out? you’re just so pretty when your eyes are staring off at nothing, tongue lolling from between those soft lips. he can’t help the sense of pride that swells in his chest when you’re reduced to such a mess, and all because of him.

“you stopped talking, princess. did daddy really fuck you that hard? can’t even think straight while you’re taking this cock, huh?”

₊˚ପ⊹ AKAASHI + EDGING & BODY WORSHIP

his hands wander about your figure as his mouth travels down every inch of your skin, only ever stopping to tell you how gorgeous you are. you deserve the world and he’s set on giving it to you, even if his method seems slightly cruel. by now, he’s an expert at continuously getting you nearly to your climax and pulling you back just before you can reach it. he’s a patient man and is more than willing to spend all night in the bedroom if that means giving you the most earth shattering orgasm you could imagine.

“god, you look so beautiful like this. you want to come? don’t worry, you only have to wait a little longer, angel. i promise it’ll feel good.”

₊˚ପ⊹ SUGAWARA + PRAISE & DACRYPHILIA

you’re such a sweet thing for suga, always doing what you’re told and making the prettiest noises for him. why shouldn’t he let you know how much he adores you—how proud he is of you? the smile that graces your face and the sparkles in your irises at his approval are really all he could ask for. but a little part of him can’t help but get excited whenever he sees tears of pleasure pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. maybe he’s greedy; or maybe he just wants a reward of his own.

“you did so well for me, my good girl. and you look so pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks. should i clean them up for you?”

₊˚ପ⊹ SEMI + VIRGIN KINK & CORRUPTION

he has this unexplainable desire to take you—someone that was once pure and untouched—and make you his own, to ruin you as he pleases. of course, he’d never tell you so; where’s the fun in that? he’s fixed on watching the authentic experience of your first time. he wants to see how your face scrunches up in pain before it turns to pleasure. he wants to hear your breath catch in your throat before you’re moaning in ecstasy as your orgasm hits. he needs to be the one who gives you a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.

“is it everything you thought it would be? yeah? i never pegged you as the type who liked being used. guess i got lucky with you.”

hihi~ manz here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #atsumu x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #sugawara x reader #semi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #𐙚 after hours

918 notes · View notes

scarletlizzard · 3 months

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Epilogue

Sessions Series

Paring: stalker Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: stalking, mentions of a knife, smut, smidge of somnophilia, fingering, strap on use (R Receiving), surprisingly fluff. This type of relationship is super toxic, okay!!

Masterlist

A/N: Thank y'all so so much for reading this series. Truly has been so nice seeing everyones comments and reblogs (the tags kill me every time)! This was my first series and hopefully there will be more, I really enjoy writing and am happy to share with you kind people. Let me know if you have any questions, would love to know what you think!! Thanks 💚💚

New Years Eve 2018

Your senses were heightened as you became aware of a set of eyes on you. Her gaze fixated on you from across the room, behind the crowd of people that swarmed around you. You watch with a familiar spark in your chest, a sense of safety that your shadow was watching over you.

"They're about to start the countdown, I'm going to find Maria!" Natasha yells closely to your ear, breaking the eye contact you held with Wanda.

You give her a small smile and nod, "Alright, find me after!" Before kissing her cheek and giving her a short hug. You watch your best friend push through the crowd until you can no longer see her red head, and your eyes travel back to your shadow. Panic settles in when you realize she's nowhere to be found.

Around you people begin pairing off, touch hungry ones scanning the crowd for a last chance at a kiss before the New Year. A touch on your shoulder makes you smile and turn around, but instead of seeing your Wanda, you see a drunk man attempting to balance himself in front of you.

"Hi sweetie," he slurs, resting his hand on your shoulder. The '2019' glasses he wore took up most of his face, a drink in his other hand sloshed onto your shoes.

"I'm sorry, I'm looking for someone..." You groan and try to push his hand off of your shoulder. To your suprise, he keeps it there.

"I'm somebody, you found me!" His words slur together as he presses closer.

"Seriously? Get off!" You raise your voice and put your hands on his broad chest, pushing him back. It's only a second later that you feel a body pressed against you from behind, the intoxicating scent wrapping around you.

"Hey man, I'd back off." Wandas husky voice sounds from behind you, but she moves to step in front of you as the man steps forward again.

He laughs and holds up his drink towards her, "We're just having fun, you wanna join in?" He slurs again, and Wanda makes a face of disgust.

"Just go away before we do something we'll both regret," she threatens. It's then you notice her hand is behind her back, settled on what you know is a blade hidden underneath her jacket.

Instinctively you reach out, resting your hand on top of hers. You watch as her shoulders drop and her grip on the handle softens. A blush creeps up your neck as you once again realize the affect you had on her.

Who, really, was the mouse?

"Fine, fine, you two are no fun," the man mumbles with a shrug, leaving the two of you in the crowd.

Before Wanda can turn around, you wrap your arms around her stomach, hugging her from behind. You feel soft vibrations from her back as she chuckles, turning in your arms.

"Okay, little mouse?" She asks softly, her demeanor changed in an instant as her green eyes meet yours. You nod and slide your hands up to her shoulders.

"I was hoping you would show up," you bite back a smirk as she leans in. The crowd begins counting down, signaling the seconds to midnight.

10... 9... 8...

"I'm always there, you know that," Wanda rasps in your ear, placing a soft kiss just below.

7... 6... 5...

The thought doesn't bother you, of her always being there watching. Waiting. Instead of dread, you felt comfort. You knew she would always be there. One hand cups her face as she continues to leave soft kisses across your jaw.

You would take any bad, as long as you had this good. As long as you had Wanda.

4... 3... 2... 1...

As cheers errupt around you, shouting, "Happy New Year!" You waste no time pressing your lips to hers, your fingers tangling into her soft brown hair. Wanda holds you tightly against her as she slips her tongue into your parted mouth. You savor the flavor of mint on her tongue, biting down softly on her bottom lip. She groans into the kiss, and you can't help but smile.

"You're going to be the death of me, little mouse..." she sighs onto your lips, and you nod.

"You love it..." You giggle, causing her to laugh. She pulls back with an unfamiliar look in her eyes, lips parted like she wants to say something. You wait, but only watch as they pull into a crooked grin before kissing you again.

***

January 2019

Wanda peers through the darkness into the windows of your house, her figure disconcernable against the shadows.

You walk around, a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, knowing someone is watching your every move. Despite the comforting warmth in the room, a shiver runs down your spine, knowing your shadow was just outside.

But instead of fear, instead of unease, you simply walk to the front of the house and stare out the window.

Wanda remains concealed, her presence a silent observer in the stillness of the night. She looks with curious eyes before realizing what you were doing, and a smirk forms on her face.

Your hands move to the locks, opening them up with a 'click'. As you stare off into the shadows, a sense of vulnerability washes over you, the feeling of leaving the windows unlocked. You have to lock and unlock it three more times before you're comfortable.

"Little mouse.." A whisper in the dark, a body next to yours as you stir in your sleep.

You could've sworn it was a dream as her hand traveled down your body, cupping your clothed pussy. She ran small circles over your clit, the clothing between become wetter. You felt your skin burn under the covers, aching for her as she teases you. Then her hand slides inside of your pants, rubbing against your now sensitive clit.

You awake with a start and attempt to sit up, but her other hand immediately covers your mouth and presses you back onto the pillow. Your hands fly up to her wrist that held a hand over your mouth, your breathing ragged as you attempted to figure out what was going on.

"It's okay, pretty girl. Just let me take care of you.." Wanda whispers, slipping her fingers inside of you. Her body presses further against you as she moves her wrist, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a quicker pace. Your moans muffle from her hand on your mouth.

"Such a good little mouse.." She praises, trapping your moans into the palm of her hand. "You were just begging for me to sneak in, needed me to come fuck you huh?" Her tone is condescending, but you only groan in response as her lips attach to your neck.

"That's it, just like that," Wanda chuckles darkly as you squeeze her fingers tightly, her thumb moving circles on your clit. "Now I want you to be a good girl and cum on my fingers, okay?"

As she sucks the skin on your collarbone, you follow as she commands, coming on her fingers and biting down harshly on her hand. Wanda moans at the feeling and the way you fall apart for her. You knew by the sound of her belt unbuckling that it would only be the first of the night.

***

February 2019

"So you and Wanda, huh?" Natasha laughs, shaking her head. "Was the therapy that good?"

Your face turns a dark shade of red as you think back on your sessions, the dark road it led you down. You shrug and take a sip of coffee, "I suppose it was..."

There was no way you could tell Natasha everything. You wouldn't. The Cat and Mouse game you and Wanda played was special, just for the two of you. But there was no way you could hide your feelings for her anymore, or the marks she left on your body, from your best friend.

"You're happy?"

"For the first time in a long time," you answer honestly. Through the whirlwind of emotions Wanda caused you, you knew you were.

"Taking your medication again?" Natasha raises an eyebrow as you tap the side of your cup 4 times absemindetly.

"It'll never go away..." You refer to your compulsion, "But I'm learning to cope with it."

"Good! Now, when are we going to go on a double date?" She smiles widely at you.

A date... you couldn't imagine Wanda taking you on a date. Maybe you could sit at a nice restaurant and she would watch from across the street. Maybe four rows away from you as you sit in a movie theater. Would it always be this way? Always about the chase?

"Hopefully soon," is all you say, a small smile planted on your lips.

***

May 2019

The microwave beeps from across the kitchen, and you set your glass of wine down before walking over and pulling out a bag of freshly popped popcorn.

Wanda watches hidden in the shadows as you grab a second glass, filling it up and topping off your own. She raises an eyebrow at the sight. Jealousy seeps in through all the cracks of her chest. She knew for a fact that Natasha was with her girlfriend tonight, and you never had anyone else over, especially this late at night.

Two glasses of wine sit on the counter along with a bowl of popcorn as you grab your phone. Her heart races as she sees the smile spread across your lips as you stare at the small screen.

A vibrate from her pocket distracts her from you.

Wanda takes her phone out to check the text, shaking her head with a sigh. She laughs at the message with the ridiculous nickname. It was only fair, she supposed.

You - Want to watch a movie, kitty?

She looks up from the screen to see you standing by the window, waving at her. Wanda tucks her phone back in her jeans and walks towards your house, where she finds the front door unlocked.

"Do you ever get tired of watching?" You ask curiously. Wanda now sat next to you on the couch, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as you leaned into her warmth. New and uncharted territory, the most normal interaction the two of you had privately. It felt so natural. You longed for this.

"No," she answers sternly, reaching into the bowl you held and tossing some popcorn into her mouth.

In the months Wanda had revealed herself as your shadow the two of you became closer, but she still felt out of reach. You noticed during sex that she would never let you touch her, and you craved to reach out and caress her. You didn't know why, and any time you tried to ask her, she would shut it down and become distant. Wanda still watched, too, every night. Any time she wasn't in the room with you, you could feel her eyes on you. By now, you didn't mind it, but you were starting to want... more.

"What if you... didn't have to go far to watch me?" You ask casually, keeping your eyes on the movie that played in front of you.

"What do you mean?" Wanda asks, and by the tone of voice, you could tell she knew what you meant. She wanted to hear you say it.

You lean forward to set down the bowl on the coffee table and move to situate yourself to sit on her lap. Your legs straddled her thighs, and your hands rested on her shoulders. You let the nail on your finger scratch up and down the side of her neck softly.

"Baby.." You whisper to her, feeling her strong hands grip your waist. For some reason, Wanda loved when you called her that, and you saved it for times like this.

You grab her jaw in your hand, tilting it to the side so you had full access to her neck. Your lips descend upon the soft skin, tongue licking a stripe to her pulse point. Wanda shifts beneath you, fingers fidgeting against your hips as you begin to bite down and suck.

"Is that what you want then, little mouse? Did you fully think about what that means?" Her voice is laced with lust as you trail down and leave another mark. "It means you'll never be alone, you won't sleep alone. It means I can use you whenever I please..." Wandas hands travel underneath your shirt, exploring your back.

"I know.." You mumble against her skin, your hips rolling slightly down against her to find she was definitely packing.

"It means you'll belong to me. You'll be mine, completely," Wanda growls as you leave another mark, her senses failing her as you continue to grind against her.

But you stop suddenly and remove your lips from her neck, your hands on either side of her face.

"I always was, baby. I am... completely," you whisper and look into her eyes, finding that same look she gave you on New Years Eve.

Wanda kisses you passionately, slipping her tongue into your mouth the second she can. Her hands travel your body before she's pulling your shirt over your head, you do the same for her.

"I need you so fucking bad," you groan against her lips, the ache between your legs growing as you throb around nothing. Wanda nods and hums in response, lifting you up and laying your back on the couch.

She slides her hand into your panties, feeling just how badly you needed her. "All mine, huh?" Wanda chuckles as her fingers pump inside of you.

"Completely," you moan out as she begins kissing your chest. You reach around her to undo her bra, sliding it away so you can feel her breasts pressed against you.

Wanda marks your skin as hers, fingering you until you're falling apart underneath her. You watch with wide eyes as she takes her fingers out of you and puts them into her own mouth, sucking your juices off of them.

"Mmm, you taste so good, pretty girl.." Wanda gushes and then chuckles as a whimper leaves your mouth. She then leans down and kisses you in a quick and sloppy kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. She parts to unzip her jeans, sliding them off of her before lining her strap up between your legs.

Wanda slides in, filling you up completely with her faux cock. The position, the closeness, this was all so new. Usually you were bound or on your stomach. This was different. It was so much more intimate. She moves her hips slowly against yours, a low moan escaping her throat.

"So good, detka.. always so fucking good," she groans and lets out a few Sokovian curses as she thrusts harder into you. Her arms rest on either side of you, holding her weight above you. You take the opportunity to wrap your arms around her.

She tenses and begins to pull back, but your legs wrap around her hips tightly to pull her closer into you. You both moan at the feeling of closeness, her being deeper than ever in you, and Wanda finds herself lost in you. She lets your hands roam the skin on her back as she fucks you.

"Baby - feels so good!" You cry out in her ear, the weight of her body pressed down onto you as she grunts against your neck. Your nails scratch down her back, causing a guttural moan to escape her lips. You throb around the plastic cock at the sound of it, wanting her as close as possible.

"I know, I know... so good... Christ," she praises you and moans in agreement, pace picking up. You can feel the muscles in her back flex as she pounds into you. The way she's moaning into your skin, you can tell she's close.

She fills you completely with every thrust, hitting that one spot that makes you see stars over and over again. Your fingers feel every inch of skin she'll let you touch, from the few moles that spread along the top below her shoulders to her back dimples on the bottom. You let your nails mark into her skin again, and Wanda feels on cloud 9. Pure bliss.

"Fuck, pretty girl I'm gonna cum," Wanda moans in your ear and picks her head up to look in your eyes, finding only pleasure written on your face. You nod at her words and hold onto her back, your legs still gripping tightly around her hips to bring her desperately closer to you.

"Me too, baby, I-I'm so close!" You gasp, feeling her lips on yours.

"Fuck, fuck! Always.. so good, fuck, I love you so much.. oh God," Wanda moans into your mouth as she thrusts into you, fucking you hard into the couch. You don't have time to register what she says before the tight coil that had built up inside you releases. A wave of pleasure crashing over you.

The two of you come at the same time, the sounds of your moans and Wanda chanting your name as she slaps her hips into yours. Wanda slows to a stop once she's sure she's taken everything she can from you.

Your chest moves rapidly as you look up at her, her jaw tense as she lets out one last groan. The muscles in her back tense up as your fingers trace small circles on her skin, and she begins to move away.

"Stay... don't move, please?" You whisper, pleading with her. Wanda sighs and gives in, too tired to move. Your heart races as you replay her words over and over again in your mind.

You bring your other hand up, stroking her brown strands of hair that splayed across the two of you and closed your eyes. Wandas arms wrap tightly underneath you as she rests her head in the crook of your neck.

She had never let you hold her like this before, touch her like this. You knew what she said was true. Her words were not just words spoken lightly. Maybe she hadn't meant to say it then, but you knew she loved you. You knew she would never let you go, even if you didn't love her back.

But you did. With all of your mind, body, and soul. Everything that you were, are, and will be.

More than you loved the special bottle of red that sat on the counter, more than the feeling of a paintbrush in your hand, more than I Love Lucy, more than counting to four.

Wandas breathing slows against your neck, her body fully relaxed as you caress her. You had never seen or felt her so at ease before.

"I love you..." You whisper as you hear soft snores fall from her lips.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep after, the sounds of her quiet snores and slow breathing along with the comforting weight of her body on top of yours, lull you to sleep.

Dreaming, hoping, there was a way Wanda would give in to you.

To let the game fade away.

But when you awake in the morning, you're alone on the couch. A blanket covers your naked body, hopes and dreams fading away into reality.

Wanda was gone, and the worst part was you knew she would be back, out of reach again.

You give yourself a moment on the couch, only a moment to cry, before wiping your tears and shaking the sounds of her soft snores out of your mind. The way her body melted into yours as your hearts beat insync, the way she kissed you lovingly, the words "I love you" slipping from her lips in a desperate, intimate moment. It was all a game, after all.

The wine glasses and popcorn bowl were missing from the coffee table. Curious, you wrap the blanket around your body and walk to the kitchen. The dishes were clean and sitting on the drying rack. It was then you saw on the counter a glass of water and a bottle of your medication along with a paper and pen. You slowly pick up the paper, an old receipt you had lying around, and read the note:

I'll be back later with some boxes. Don't forget to take your medicine.

The curved letters tug at your heartstrings, the next lines causing another spark to ignite in your chest.

I love you

If the game was still afoot, Wanda was winning, because you were utterly and irrevocably hers.

***

October 2019

In the sunlit room, you stood in front of a canvas, wooden brush in hand. Each stroke, movements precise and deliberate, guided by a vision taking form in your mind. You inhale the scent of oil paint as you take some more on your brush before leaning in, adding intricate detail to breathe life into your creation. Time seems to stop as you lose yourself to the creative side of your brain.

You don't hear the creak of the door opening, or feel Wandas gaze on you as she stands in the doorway, admiring you.

The large button down you wore loosely was covered in paint, a work of art in itself from all the leftover paint of paintings you had done. You hummed along to the music, playing softly behind you, tongue between your teeth and brows scrunched together as you concentrated on the small details.

Wanda can't help the crooked smile on her face as she takes in the sight of you in your element. Her heart pounding out of her chest as you brush a piece of fallen hair out of your face. She walks closer, setting her hands on your waist.

You gasp at her touch, the feeling of her nose tickles your ear as she kisses your neck.

"Baby.. you scared me," you giggle and rest a hand on top of hers, leaning back against her.

There it was again, that feeling Wanda would never get used to. The feeling that wanted to drop her to her knees right there and whisper devotions between your legs, something she did more often since you had moved in with her.

"I got tired of watching," Wanda jokes, a rumble in her chest as she laughs. You turn yourself in her arms, resting your hands on her chest.

"I don't mind you watching... but I prefer you touching," you whisper the last part sinfully, the word darkening Wandas emerald eyes. She picks you up easily, you squeal with excitement, and wrap your legs around her waist.

And there on the floor, in the room Wanda had transformed into your art studio, she whispered those devotions against your skin and between your legs.

You lay on the cloth tarp that covered the floor underneath your canvas, drawing patterns on the skin of Wandas stomach. You turn in her arm to look at her.

A jaw sculpted by God, green eyes blessed by the angels, and a smile gifted from the Devil.

The sun shines on her face, highlighting smudges of green paint on her cheek. You giggle and let your fingers travel to the colored paint stripes spread across her body, a handprint on her shoulder.

"You're my favorite work of art," you murmur to her, feeling her thumb brush the paint on your hips. She smiles, your favorite crooked smile.

"Little mouse?" Wanda asks, her voice low and calm as she stares into your eyes.

"Yes, baby?"

"Marry me.."

And it's not a question, it's a statement. A declaration. You didn't need a moment to think, because you already knew you were hers, forever.

"Yes," you say anyways, nodding your head. Wandas' smile widens, and she lifts you on top of her, kissing you the best she could without letting her smile go.

***

Christmas Day 2021

The snow crunches under Wandas' boots as she watches you walk from the kitchen to the living room, a towel on your shoulder. Your hands fumbled with something unseen, hidden from her view. Your brows furrowed in concentration, and you shook your head, mumbling something to yourself.

And then you looked up and saw her. The widest smile overcame your face. You radiated pure joy.

Wandas' heart sped up at the sight of you as she carried wood and walked towards the front door.

"Reminiscing, kitty?" You purr as you greet her at the door with a kiss and a hug, she hums against your lips.

"You don't miss it, little mouse?" Wanda chuckles and kisses your jaw, the wood dropping to the floor.

"Not when I have all this..." You sigh happily as she kisses down your neck, her hands moving under your shirt.

A cry from the other room interrupts the moment.

"Mm, those boys always know when to start, don't they?" She mumbles, "I knew when I heard twins, they would be trouble."

Wanda hears a radiant laugh escape your lips, and she gives you a crooked smile in return. You cup her face in your hands, the ring on your fourth finger on the left hand is cool against her cheek.

"I loved you then, and I love you even more now, Wanda.." you whisper, breath fanning against her face.

"I love you even more, little mouse.." she says softly, giving you one last kiss before walking into the living room, your hand in hers.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen #dark wanda x reader

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withleeknow · 3 months

Note

hiya! I noticed you have your requests open and if you don't mind, could I please suggest: "for once... I was right" with "don't you dare walk away from me" for Lee Know - maybe angsty but I don't mind you just going with the flow.

thank you!

blue hour.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: exes au, exes to ...? 🫢, angst; minho's pov mostly, open ending kinda, some light cursing, unedited don't look at me word count: 2.2k (i got carried away a little bit) listen to 🎧: breathe again - sara bareilles

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

“this should be the last of your things.”

“thanks,” you say, rummaging through the box that minho hands over to you. everything that you left at his place throughout the entire time you were together; every sweatshirt of yours in his closet, every piece of jewelry on his nightstand, every bottle of nail polish that you kept in his bathroom reserved for nights where you two would pamper each other. they're all here, except for... “did you see my red scarf though? i can’t find it anywhere.”

“no, i checked,” he says. “this is everything.”

“hmm, okay.”

you hold the box between your arms, and minho can’t help but feel something twist painfully in his chest. it’s like you're holding your relationship, or what’s left of it anyway, ready to make your swift exit from his life. two years of love, all dumped into one stupid cardboard box.

you both stand there in silence for what feels like forever, just staring at each other, then at your surroundings, neither of you saying anything. minho knows why he hasn’t bid you a farewell goodnight yet; it’s because he doesn’t want this to end. even though it’s a sad occasion, the finale to your story, he still wants to the seconds to stretch on, for the minutes to last longer. after all, isn’t this the last time he'll ever see you?

why you haven’t left him to his devices and gone upstairs, he isn’t sure.

another moment passes. life goes on but it seems like you two are in your own bubble where nothing moves forward. everything stays rooted to the spot.

“do you want to go for a walk?” you ask after a while. the question surprises minho enough that he lets it show, and it makes you quickly tack on an excuse. “the weather is nice and i... i don’t want to be on my own.”

yes, he does want to go for a walk with you. anything to be with you even if it’s only for a moment longer.

“sure,” he says. “let’s go for a walk.”

“okay. i’ll leave this upstairs and get my jacket.”

he watches as you disappear inside your building, only to reemerge momentarily afterward, a wool jacket draped over your frame. he wishes you’d worn something lighter, just so he could have an excuse to wrap his arm around your shoulders if it gets colder.

you walk side by side around your neighborhood, a distance between your bodies that never used to be there before. it’s strange, of course it is. but minho supposes this is yours and his new reality now.

“how are the cats?” you ask.

“they’re okay. dori had a cold a couple weeks ago, but everything’s fine now,” he tells you. “they... they miss you.”

i miss you too - that's a thought that he doesn’t say out loud, only keeps it to himself because it feels too humiliating to utter those words to you.

“they’re cats. how can you tell?”

“i can always tell.” he shrugs. “they wait by the door when i’m already home. they sleep on your-... they sleep on the other side of the bed.”

if you notice his slip up, you don’t say anything. you purse your lips and nod somberly, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “they’ll forget about me soon enough,” you say.

minho glances at you. he wants to rebuke that statement, to argue with you over something as silly as whether or not his freaking cats will retain their memories of you in the future. but he just bites his tongue and swallows down the lump in his throat, humming to let you know that he’s heard what you said. not a hum of agreement, just one of acknowledgement.

“how’s work?” he asks. god, it’s just so fucking weird to be asking you these things. you know each other inside and out and yet, you’re here making small talk.

torn apart when all you two should be is together.

“it’s alright. still the same, kinda boring. you know there’s not a lot that can happen in that place in one month.”

yes, because it’s been a little over a month since you parted ways, since you moved back into your old apartment and left his home perpetually cold and empty. he can’t blame you for leaving when he was the one who agreed to break up. he can’t blame you for his heartache when he was the one who broke your heart first.

he didn’t mean to, but isn’t that what they all say?

“do you still want to leave?”

“sure,” you reply. “if i can find something better, i’d leave that place in a heartbeat. but for now, it’ll have to do. it used to be a bit more bearable though.”

“i hope you find something that makes you happier.”

“thanks.” you give him a smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. “how about you? how’s life?”

minho almost says the first thing that comes into mind. life is terrible without you. i think about you every single minute of every day but you're not here and it’s my own damn fault.

he could lie and come up with something much more palatable, because he doesn’t reckon his truth is something you’d like to hear right now.

but he doesn’t want to lie to you. in the time that you were together, minho never lied to you, not even once, not even over something stupid and insignificant. beside, he’s got a feeling that you would see through his bullshit anyway.

his answer ends up being a sad shrug, then, “it’s life. i’m hanging in there.”

your footsteps slow until you stop completely. this makes him stop too, turning around to look at you with his head tilted to one side, confused.

“it’s not like you to sound so defeated,” you comment.

“what?” he asks with a sigh. “it’s the truth.”

“it’s not the whole truth.”

“what do you want me to say?”

“i want you to be honest with me,” you tell him, your shoulders slumping just slightly. “i still care about you. i want to know you’re okay.”

minho takes a step closer until he’s right in front of you, the closest that you two have been all night. his body feels the warmth radiating from yours but he has to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and touching you.

“if you really want to know, i haven’t been myself since you left.”

guilt flashes in your eyes. it wasn’t his intention at all.

you bite your bottom lip, inhale a shaky breath, before you speak, “i’m sorry for leaving.”

“don’t apologize. i’m sorry for driving you away.”

then he watches the tears well up as you look at him. he’s been wondering this the whole night, how you seem so cavalier about it all, how you’re able to speak to him so casually as if you’re just old friends with some shared history, and not as though the wound is still fresh. he’s still bleeding and you’re acting like you’ve already healed.

but he sees it now. you’re just as sad as he is, just as miserable. the only difference is you’re better at hiding it, or maybe you’ve just had more time to get used to the way it hurts.

is this how you felt in the weeks, the months, leading up to your departure? every time he neglected you, prioritized something else over you, missed every date and overlooked every text message? every single instance where he was too busy for you?

he never wanted to break your heart, but alas, here you are.

he didn’t want you to go, and yet, when you felt like you couldn’t handle the loneliness anymore, he hadn’t stopped you from walking out the door. he gave up, and he gave up so easily.

nothing along the lines of ‘don’t you dare walk away from me’, no tearful argument, no explosive and definitive end to your relationship. minho just let your love slip away.

how must that have made you feel on top of everything that he did - or didn’t do - to you?

minho has been called every variation of ‘cold’ before. to everyone else, he’s callous, rough, intimidating and unapproachable. but to you, he’s kind, soft, gentle and loving. it never mattered what anyone thought of him, as long as you always knew that he loved you, that you saw him for who he was.

but toward the end, what if you saw him how the others did? what if you had deemed him cold too?

the mere thought makes him sick to his stomach.

you sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “you don’t have to say that. it’s in the past now.”

fracture upon fracture upon fracture. minho doesn’t know how much more of this his heart can take.

his fingers twitch, and before he can stop himself, he’s reaching for your hands. to his surprise, you let him.

your hands, so delicate in his, so warm.

“i should’ve fought harder for you,” he says, his voice so small that you barely catch the words at all.

but his eyes… he hopes you can see it in his eyes - the regret, the longing, the pain of losing you dimming the light of the stars he holds there.

giving his hands a light squeeze, you say, “and maybe i should’ve held on tighter instead of letting go.”

“i made you feel like you weren’t enough. it’s the worst thing i ever did to you. i understand why you left.”

you try to calm your breathing, because you really don’t feel like breaking down in front of him right now. you don’t say anything in response; what are you even supposed to say? you told him everything that you wanted to the night that you two broke up. everything that you tried to bottle up for months was laid on the table that night. you watched as he listened to you, watched as his heart broke alongside yours. that was it.

“i… i’m sorry,” minho stutters, and for the first time since you’ve known him, he looks scared. “i’m sorry. can’t we try again? i swear i won’t let you down again. i swear to you.”

“min…” the nickname slips out of habit and for a second there, minho thinks you would say yes. but then… “i know you’re sorry. i know we didn’t break things off because we fell out of love. but i don’t think you’re at a point in your life where i can be the most important thing right now. you may not mean to, but there’ll be things that you prioritize over me… and i’m not at a place in my life where i can settle for being on someone’s back burner either. the timing’s just off. it’s not your fault, life just got in the way.”

minho stares at you, the stars dying out one by one. the hurt is beyond what any word can describe but in a way, he understands. it fucking sucks, but he gets it. he has to accept it now.

he nods solemnly, tracing odd patterns on your palms. then he asks, quietly, “can i hold you? just for a while.”

please indulge me, he thinks. this is the last thing i’ll ever ask from you.

you don’t reply with words. instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. you two stay there in each other’s embrace for god knows how long. it could’ve been minutes or it could’ve been hours. you always lose track of time when you’re wrapped up together.

you hold him like he - tough and intimidating minho - is made of glass, and he holds you like he doesn’t ever want to let you go.

but he has to eventually.

you untangle yourself from him to find that he’s been crying. the tears on his cheeks catch the light from the street lamps, reflecting like crystals in the night. when you wipe them away, you tell him, “for once, i was right.”

“about what?” he sniffles.

“you really are a hopeless romantic,” you smile, trying to lighten the mood. as much as you can anyway. “i knew you’d prove me right one day.”

minho wants to scoff but his eyes are burning from the tears and his throat feels like it's closing up, so he lets you have this one. the last one, right?

maybe he is a romantic, and maybe it’s only for you. maybe it makes him a little hopeless.

the walk back to yours ends too quickly. but truth be told, even if you had walked together until the sun came up, it still wouldn’t have been long enough for him.

you both stand there, two heavy hearts looking at each other, looking for one another.

there’s no goodbye, only goodnight.

and you’re the one who says it first.

minho returns your sentiment with a choked up voice, a brush of his fingers against yours, and when you finally turn to walk up the steps, his gaze lingers on your retreating figure.

then he calls your name softly. “hey, uhm... i’ll let you know if the scarf turns up, okay?”

you turn back with a knowing smile. it’s still sad, but there’s some faith hidden there.

“i hope it will.”

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

keep close | part II

joel miller x f!reader [5.2k] summary: It's the oldest case of blinded by love ever seen. All of the doubts and pining must have entertained the gods all this time. That's the explanation you settle for when you discover that just like you, Joel has been suffering in silence. Wanting. Craving you. 📝 This is the continuation of part 1 but it can be read as a stand-alone. If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. 🏷️ Pining, idiots to lovers, sexual tension, smut build-up.

masterlist | part one ←

Everything was so fucking green. You hated it.

"Why d'you hate it?" Joel asked.

Unlike you, his recovery advanced fast. Bruises and cuts had the 'fading to yellow' tonalities, and he was now hunting deer and other animals with Ellie so you three did more than just survive winter. "'Cause I never see it." It's so beautiful out there. "Ever stopped to think about how the world looks healthier and prettier than it has in thousands of years, and we're all stuck inside walls?"

Joel usually takes a moment or two to reply, but when those moments stretch on, you look up from the floor to where he's sitting on the couch and—oh.

He's doing it again. Looking. Staring at you as if he's thinking a hundred things. You freeze under his gaze again, waiting for it, begging in your mind that he'll do it...

His hand reaches out in direction of your face, and everything inside you lights up.

He touches your hair.

Ever since that incident where you two were sleeping together a little closer than ever before, Joel's taken a liking to your hair.

Usually, the idea of anyone touching you, let alone your hair, is enough to make you break out in hives.

With him, you lean against the touch.

The hand on the side of your head starts doing sweet, caring movements, and you force yourself to open your eyes.

Joel breaks you out of your thoughts by wondering, "What would you do if you were outside?"

That takes your memory back. You close your eyes, getting lost in his touch for a moment. "Probably... play something."

"Play what?"

Ignoring how his voice surrounds you when your vision is gone is difficult. "Anything that requires a ball." You somehow manage it. "My brothers and I—" their mention chokes you. Grips you by the throat.

As always, Joel waits.

"My brothers and I loved playing... anything," you chuckled. "It's the only time I wasn't bored."

"What did you enjoy the most?"

"Uh. Probably volley? I liked keeping the ball up high." You open your eyes then, missing the sight of his. Joel's watching his own hand in your hair and, in exchange, you get to watch his face. Before he can dive more into your past for his own distraction, you nudge his hand with your head. "I'm proud of you."

Joel knows exactly why, and still, "Why?"

You roll your eyes. "For making El believe in Santa Claus."

It happens again—Joel smiles. One week's passed since the incident and you're still mesmerized every time. "I don't think she'd believe him for too long."

"Joel."

He laughs through his nose, then places his gaze on your eyes. "I don't know why you'd be proud of me for that. It's stupid."

"Letting her go hunt on her own is stupid?"

"Sure is." He had a damn point, and you hated the world for it. "We both know how it could go."

"We do. And still, you allowed her to feel like a person who has some control over her life and who's capable of using her own hands to live." As someone who waited years for that same opportunity, you knew what it meant. "You don't know what this means to her, but I do."

Joel lived a life before chaos was the new natural order. He takes a second, his hand pausing its ministrations before he nods and continues his petting. "I believe you."

That means the world to me. "Thanks."

This time, Joel doesn't answer.

His hand keeps doing the thing it's grown fond of, and you keep pretending your body is not growing dependent on it like plants need air, water, and the Sun.

You think his hands and eyes on you might be your Sun.

You wish you could do the same for him.

The idea of rejection is what holds you back from so much.

Before last week, before he did this for the first time, the physical distance kept between you both was your seal of confirmation that Joel knew about your feelings. That he knew how much you burned for him, for a touch of his.

Now, you aren't so sure.

Then, you cried. Months ago, before this last ordeal of fuckery made your little triad retreat to a cold cabin in the mountains, you cried over the mere thought that Joel saw you as he did Ellie.

Like a daughter.

It plagued you until it showed up in your dreams and made you weep because of it.

All your life you waited for the moment when the desire for someone became real. When wanting and feeling a connection became as tangible as the tension that cloaked the quarantined city every day.

When it came, it was him.

Joel breaks you out of your thoughts with a chuckle, "You remind me of a cat."

You were leaning against his touch again. This time, you keep your eyes closed. "Feels nice." More than nice. "So nice."

He laughs again. "I can see that."

That pulls your eyes to open. Joel's face is fixed on you. His right hand is hidden by his shirt, tucked on top of the cloth soaked with medicinal paste. It's why he took the touch after a lot of arguments, minutes before Ellie left for the hunt. "You're a cat, too," you argue.

Joel raises one eyebrow at that. "How?"

"Skittish."

"I'm skittish?" the smile is making its way back to his lips.

You nod. "I'd pet you too if I didn't think you'd hiss and run for the hills."

Fuck. Barely are the words out of your mouth before you feel the heat creeping up your neck to cover your face. Out here, there are lamps with candles.

Joel sees you with clarity.

A deer caught under the spotlights. Not a cat, then.

It's his smile, opening slowly but surely, that makes the tension leave your shoulders. "Ellie says I can be a grouchy hedgehog with anger issues. One that stinks. And you... wanna pet my hair?"

Ellie's a child, Joel. I want you. "El is a sharp-tongued kid who loves making you frown." It's also the truth. "And yes. I do," in a much lower voice, you finish with, "it looks soft."

Joel shakes his head, his smile widening. "Unbelievable."

"What?"

"My dirty hair. It looks soft," he repeats, fixing you under his gaze.

You look away. "Nevermind," you mumble.

Joel should remain still on that couch, but he moves. Laughing, his hand goes back to what it did before, and pulls you closer as his upper body leans forward. He sort of—nuzzles. It's not a kiss—Joel just touches his nose to your hair, and you feel his laughing coming out through his nose.

When he stops laughing, he leans back down on the couch.

His tender touch on your hair continues.

"You're so..." he trails off, and you wished you were still looking at him. "I wouldn't run," he adds.

That gets your attention. Your eyes find his, and your heart seems to grow two sizes with the way it beats. "No?"

"No."

Immediately, your eyes fall to the couch he's lying on—you hate it. It's small. Old. With no room for another person there. "I'll show later that it's nice," you settle for.

Even if the couch could fit a whole family of three, you know that you'd remain where you are.

"Later?"

"Yeah. No space for me up there."

"Oh." Joel sits up in a single motion, causing you to sit up straight. Your cheek was resting on the small part of the couch his body wasn't, but now, you watch as he lifts up his shirt to inspect his bruised side.

The second you see skin, usually, you avert your gaze. This time, you inspect the colors and healing with him. It looks... ok. Still painful, just as your own body is, but no shooting pain with every move you make.

Joel places the rag on the couch without care and nods. "C'mon. We were up all night re-making the supplies, and El's only gonna be back in a couple of hours. We should rest."

Following Joel is the norm by now. Wordless, you walk behind him in direction of the room.

The mattresses are still pushed together.

There are three backpacks with several items placed in front of them on the other side of the room, a handful of handles spread around the corners, and on top of that old brown blanket, Ellie's drawing book.

"She was here again," you tell him.

Joel's kneeling in front of his backpack with the cassette player in hand. "I don't know why. Her room's the only one with an actual bed."

"She's restless," you say as you move her notebook to the floor, "and ever since you taught her how to scout perimeters, she uses that opportunity to find 'cool shit' around places."

Joel hums in reply, and then you hear a click.

In a very low volume—low enough that only these walls must be capturing sound, his tape Saxophone Colossus fills the air with a gorgeous sound.

He makes his way to the bed and lies right next to with you a grunt.

Your bodies' sides are touching. He places his left forearm under his head, using it as a pillow, and then turns his head to the side where your waiting eyes are already observing him.

"She found the water heater," Joel agrees.

His voice is always lower here. Either that or you're in closer chambers and always use that as an excuse to drown in it. "She did."

"Can you turn it on to heat up some water when she comes back?"

You nod, smiling at him. This part is so good. "'course," you want to scoot closer, but—always but. "I'd rather prepare three baths measuring the water with a coffee cup rather than skin animals alive."

Joel's side smile returns. He stares for a moment, and says, "I don't know how you learned it that well. You hate doing it."

"I learned it 'cause I had to." For her. For Ellie, it goes unsaid. "Doesn't mean I'll ever want to ever again."

"Thank gods they didn't butcher my arm, then."

You close your eyes, whining a little. "No. Please—don't even joke about it."

Joel laughs. "I'll make sure to keep my arm. For both of your sakes."

"Thank you," you open your eyes again.

"No problem," his grin is kind of intoxicating. From this up close, watching Joel smile does to you the same that a full glass of bourbon does. "C'mere," he tilts his chin down at the same time as he stretches his arm to your head, "there's space now."

It hits you what Joel's doing. Inviting you in.

Call it instinct. When you raise your upper body just enough for his arm not to linger awkwardly in the air, you're still registering what is going on, and then—

his chest.

Joel guides your head there, and as it's custom, you follow.

It lands you where you dreamt of being for months now.

His body adjusts underneath you, getting comfortable.

You're so lost in the feeling of his heat that you miss the beat. When you feel his breathing becoming even and his hand moving in your hair, you notice how comfortable you are.

How perfect it feels.

Joel pets your hair for a little while before you manage to find yourself again.

A song must pass and in it, your mind lives through the most blissful few moments of peace and quiet it's ever had.

Nothing happens. No thoughts, no doubts, just this.

When you come back to what is reality, no matter how dream-painted it looks, Joel's heart sings under your ears.

You can hear it beating.

Then, you remember why you're here now. "Can I do it?" you ask.

Your body remembers it can move and does something else it's been dreaming of for a while. It cuddles. It adjusts itself in order to be comfortably aligned with his, and your chin tilts upwards to get a look at his face.

From this angle, all your see is beard until he looks down. "Do what?" The question is betrayed by the hint of a smile on him. It might be a product of your own rapid heartbeat, but Joel seems to gain a little bit of color. "Pet my 'soft' hair?"

"I can hear the air quotes and I don't appreciate them."

You love to make him laugh. This time, you get to feel it. Even if it all goes down someday, at least you'll always have this memory. "You can," he replies once he's done laughing.

Breathe in, you decide this position is just fine, and move your right hand up until it finds his hair. Breathe out.

The angle is uncomfortable—not the best, nor the worst, but it does its job.

It feels greasy when your hands run through them, but not dirty. It is as soft as you imagined it.

It takes him some time too — one song and a half — before Joel's body is fully relaxed. His heartbeat takes the longest.

You feel the times when he lifts his left arm to check the clock to see if Ellie is still in her two-hours time.

None of you sleep, but that doesn't matter.

Rest nowadays goes beyond hours shutting down the brain. Laying there with Joel is the most you feel truly rested, even if the circumstances are these.

Whatever leads to you in his arms, you'll take it.

It's worth the wait. Makes you feel alive.

Ellie eats like a starved animal, every time.

"Slow down, kid, jesus fuck," you tell her, without fail, every single time.

By now, she does slow. It's like she needs a reminder—there is food, and we'll find you more if you need it.

Once, Joel wondered what the fuck did they feed her in that military school. You're unsure if you want to know.

"Did you two rest?" she asks with her mouth full.

"Really?" he gives her the look of 'gross, El', but she only rolls her eyes at him. "And yeah, we did."

"I already warmed up the water for showers." The wood bath structure was perfect for a shower, and heating up all of the baths inside that room already made the temperature rise a little. "You can go first."

"Telling me I stink?" she asks you.

You grin. "Always do, bug." Little bug. That's who she was to you—a nature's wonder. "Not enough showers in the world to change that."

"We should be honest with her," Ellie turns to Joel, and you think oh here it comes. "She can't smell herself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel replies in faux seriousness. "I'm certain all three of us smell like fields of flowers. The one that's most us, y'know? Like me, for example, I'm clearly a blue orchid."

It's been like that since those guys jump you three. Whatever lock kept Joel doing his best to push you two out, was just gone.

He presses his makeshift plate closer to lean in your direction and say, "Do I smell like orchids? Is it amazing? Any hints of some type of wood underneath?"

Joel's silly.

It's not something either one of you expected but welcomed with open arms.

He'll say the stupidest things to make Ellie laugh. He acts, and then winks in your direction to say 'gotcha'.

Ellie leaves for her shower, and leaves you two alone.

The air's back to what it was before she arrived.

It's always been different without her around, but now it's this. Joel finishes his meat and cleans the tip of his fingers with his lips. You try to look away. You fail.

He pulls you back. "Can I ask you something?"

You're almost done with your meal, but now that he's talking and his whole focus is back on you, the hunger left. Switched. "Always."

"Do you feel... lonely?"

What a stupid, and painfully sharp question. "No." I'm scared to ask the same. "Of course I don't," you say. "There's you. El. I'm... well-accompanied."

Whatever he was looking for, the answer must deliver. "Okay." He looks in the direction of the bathroom —Ellie— and then back at you. This time, he scoots closer to you and fits himself to fit in your side.

You open up to him, happy to create more space.

You'd wrap yourself around his whole body if you could. Make a home somewhere between his arms and his thighs. His smile always in line of sight.

With arms wide open, Joel pulls his chair, screeching the floor until he's content with the proximity. His head lays on top of your chest, and your hands immediately go to his hair.

There's no music to measure time, but you've grown fond of the 'peace and quiet' he always went on about.

Eventually, he speaks. "We can't fall asleep here."

You laugh against his hair. "It hasn't been even five minutes. You know she's mixing cold and 'hot scalding water' until the temperature's just perfect like she's a mad scientist until now. We have at least twenty minutes."

"Hmmm." He nuzzles his head, and you pray your hummingbird of a heart won't disturb him.

Joel asked you about what you thought of his plans for once you two were healed. That's what you both discussed with Ellie as you ate.

The conversation changes two or three times before he lands on it.

"Well—after all of it. Tommy, or Fireflies—what do you want?"

You're still lost in the last topic, and the feeling of his hair running like silk through your fingers. "Do we even know if we trust them?"

"Trust who?"

"The Fireflies, obviously."

"Ah. Hm. I suppose we don't," on your arms, Joel nudges you with his body. "Forget 'em for a sec."

You open your eyes and his head is lying so nicely on your shoulder. He locks eyes with you, and asks. "What do you want after that?"

Like that. As if it's simple. "Are you asking if I want ice cream or move to the Arctic?" What an absurd. "I don't fuckin' know. I hope I'm alive. In one piece. And so are you two. The end."

"You don't want anythin'?"

It's infuriating. He is right there, looking up at you with those stupid gorgeous brown eyes and, "It's not that simple," comes out before something else does.

Not enough of an answer, apparently. Joel shakes his head. "'s just a scenario. A 'what if' for the future, since we can't do them about the past. Indulge me."

"So, like, a hypothetical world where you, and El, and I, we're all good. And we... found Tommy. Or maybe the Fireflies."

"Yeah."

"And they've given us a little more than just 'she's the cure' to work with... And we can—I don't know, sit back and watch some scientists do science? That's the scenario?"

"You're paitin' it much better than me," he smiles. "Go on."

You roll your eyes. "In that scenario—I want ice cream."

Joel groans. "Oh, c'mon." He sighs, and whispers your name under his breath. He leans close enough for his hair to tickle your cheeks. "Tell me. Somethin' you always wanted growing up, I don't know."

"It's a difficult question!" you defend yourself, smiling despite being cornered by his new musings.

"It is. And you can think on it, if you want," Joel nuzzles his head to comfort once again on your shoulder, then closes his eyes. "I'm just curious about the stuff you wanted to do before someone threw a mission on your lap, that's all."

"Okay. I'm thinkin'."

"I can hear the engines turning," he whispers. You poke the side of his body, because you know now that you can, and then—, "I already know you're gonna ask me the same so I'll start thinkin' about my own answer to. And don't bullshit me—if you tell me you'd rather have an x-burger instead of ice cream I'll poke a finger in one of your bruises."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me," he laughs.

"I'd kill for an x-burger, now that you mentioned," your voice lowers to a whisper too.

"Same. Now shhh and think. I'm sure you've had aspirations beyond babysitting the unique child and teaming up with my ugly mug."

That's what stops you. Ugly mug.

Your eyes open, and the intensity in them must pierce through his darkness, because Joel feels the eyes on him and looks straight at you. "What?" he looks confused.

Your first mental lap is to be angry—

how can he not see it? it's right in front of him—but then.

Insecurities.

The ones you have and cloud your thoughts with every rising Sun—of course Joel had them, too. He was older, this world was far from kind, and—

He gets up, looking every bit as lost in thoughts as you are, and starts gathering the things from around the fire.

You took too long to answer, and his nervousness always shows up in one of two ways: sleep, or organizing.

"You genuinely think that?" you ask after a second.

Joel gathers the plates in his hand and uses the snow water to rinse them. "Which part? That I think you deserve more or that my mug is ugly? 'Cause yes to both."

"That's—wow." Your laughter is dry, something very unusual.

It makes him look at you. "Wow what, woman?"

He only calls you that when he's getting impatient. "That's crazy to me."

"What is? I never asked you either one of these questions 'cause the first one could be misread—I don't want you thinkin' I'm tryna get rid of you—"

"Thank god."

"—and the second one." He sighs, and puts the plates together. Everything that's not being used always goes back to the backpacks in cases of emergency. Joel looms there over the sink with them in hand, and you wait. "I'd say something stupid like 'does that kind of thing ever matter anymore' but the truth is, I can't see a scenario that it doesn't, and I'd rather live without your honest opinion about this."

"I am always honest in my opinions," you agree.

"Exactly. That's why I never asked you what you thought of my face—I can sleep without that one," he concludes.

"You were right, too. Saying 'does beauty matter anymore' would be stupid 'cause we always looked and always will look for things that we think are pleasing to the eye. It's human nature, don't you think?"

He nods, and then moves to where the backpacks are to put away the cans and plates. "It is."

"I think a lot of things are beautiful. Mostly it's nature, though. And woman. D'you think I'm weird for that?"

Joel looks over his shoulders and the answer is written all over his face.

You shrug your shoulders. "I know some people who definitely would."

"I know some people who have fungi tentacles exiting their mouths. We've learned these past few years that our species isn't the smartest."

"Touché," you laugh. "I do think you're handsome, though."

It freezes the air as if someone opened a door and let the cold air inside.

"Not that you asked—but," you look away from his frame, losing the confidence to look at him as you go on, "you're... beautiful." Most men would hate that adjective. You know that because you heard it from your brothers—only women are 'beautiful'. "I know men don't like that word used to describe them, but—"

"What men?"

"I don't know," you shrug again, wanting to have a shell to retrieve out of nowhere. "Most men? It's what my brothers told me."

"Well—they don't speak for me, then."

It's the feeling of his eyes on you that makes you gaze in his direction. "I like the white hairs, too," for some reason, your voice dropped to a whisper, "and your beard. It's even. Frames your face well."

Joel looked frozen under a spell.

He stared at you with intent and focus you'd never seen before.

Since you started, you might as well finish. "The crinkles by your eyes are smile-made. I like that."

It works—it brings them out. Joel starts smiling, even if his eyes look a little lost. "Smile-made?" he echos.

"Yeah. They're there 'cause of your smile. Some people have lines 'cause they frown a lot, or grimace, or are always judging. I don't like those lines."

"I have worry lines."

"We all have worry lines, Jo. It's the end of the world."

He laughs. "Touché."

"That's my favorite part, though." He stops laughing at those words, and you miss it instantly. "Your smile."

His gaze softens. "You like my smile?"

"You almost never smile," you say, hating that sad truth, "and it's a beautiful smile," you think if anything else comes out, it might be too much. Too close to the truth, so, "in conclusion: handsome. So—I do think you're a little crazy. It might not be often, but we still see mirrors every now and then."

His silence as an answer made the jittery nerves climb up your legs, soothing like an ointment every bruise it found in its way.

Joel staring at you was the reason why you lacked sleep, sometimes.

Too many thoughts about what he was thinking. Too many scenarios about what it would be like to have the courage to make the first move.

It's he who does it.

When it comes, you're too lost in a trance to properly register his steps coming back to you.

He sits on the chair next to you again. Grabs your chair with one hand, and pulls it close to his until they're touching.

He's so close you could count the gray hairs you like so much on his beard.

When he leans in closer, you're breathing his air, and it makes goosebumps rise all over your skin. On your arms, your neck, your back.

Joel moves one hand to your neck at the same pace one moves when hunting wild animals.

As if every movement could result in being seen, and the prey running away.

When he's only a couple of inches away from your face, you feel the heat of his palm spread across your neck; his thumb caressing your cheek. He asks, "Talk to me. Is this—Am I reading it wrong?"

If you have a voice, it's gone. You shake your head and do the only thing you needed all this long—you lean, too.

Sometimes, things are so important that every second of it counts.

Joel's lips on yours are one of those things.

You're shaking, at first.

Although inexperience is part of the reason why you're so terrified of doing something, this part you know.

It's the only one you have confidence in, so you let all the worries on your shoulders go, and you kiss him back.

Joel wants you to.

The notion that he might've been as lost in his head as you were in yours makes you want to cry. You whimper against his mouth instead, pressing so much harder when the reality of what is happening catches up to you.

Joel pulls back for just a second, "It's okay, I got you," he seals the words by pressing his lips on yours again.

All of your reservations fly out of the window with those last three words.

You throw your arms around his neck, almost throwing yourself too in the process. Joel laughs right there, with his lips still on yours, and catches your weight.

With your fingers threaded through his hair and holding on for dear life, you let him do it—let him guide you.

Kissing Joel makes your head drown in every other moment you two shared and you could feel your heart beating in your throat.

He takes it slow with you, despite feeling the shivers all over your body.

Joel nips on your bottom lip until you open up for him.

He kisses by sucking, then pecking your lips, and when he finally pushes his tongue in your mouth, you forget where you two are for a moment.

The moan is involuntary, and even with eyes closed you feel them rolling to the back of your head.

Joel's hand on your nape starts massaging your neck and he says, "Shhh, gorgeous, 's okay," he licks into your mouth again.

Rewiring your brain is so easy for him. Gorgeous.

Just like when you two discovered that touching one another was an option a week ago, learning that this is on the table is almost comical. You feel like a starved person being delivered a feast, and stopping is far from an option.

When you pull back for air because there's none left in your body, the string of saliva connecting your mouth to Joel's makes you tremble again.

He needs to know. Tell him. If he knows he's the only man — or person — who's ever awakened desire in you, maybe he'll understand why you're like a leaf in his hands.

Joel's hand comes up to your cheek. It's huge, covering almost half of your face, and when he whispers, "Open your eyes," you realize that you'd closed them again.

His eyes are the warmest part of him. "Hi," you mumble. "Please tell me you'll do this again."

Joel smiles. "If you wait a few more hours, El will be asleep," he swallows visibly and you think what on Earth could he be nervous to, "I can help you... cleaning your wounds. You could help me."

Right. Bathing together, even if 'bathing' is a strong word for it.

Inexperienced. No knowledge whatsoever other than books you read in the abandoned library. What will you do with him? What will—

"We don't have to, obviously," he interrupts your thoughts. "And yeah. I wanna do this more. Of course I do," Joel kisses you again, and you hold his head in place for a few more moments, stealing more kisses to numb your mind. "God, I wanted this since I met you."

"Joel."

"It's true."

"I'm happy to know we're both idiots," and even happier that was behind. "And—I mean. A helping hand is always good... right?"

The look he gives you does it again—a shiver, and it's not from the cold.

The mere idea of his hands on you is enough to make you sweat.

Maybe that's the perfect timing and opportunity to lay it on him that he's signing up for something he might not want.

"You want my help?" he asks. He nuzzles his face on yours, rubbing his beard on your cheek, down to your neck.

You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Yeah."

"I'll do my best."

It'll be more than enough. That is—if you can survive the next few hours. If his kisses alone are enough to almost bring you to a fever again, his hands might kill you.

You would die happy.

PART THREE →

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @bistarlight

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wwinterwitch · 11 months

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right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton

summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!

a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

all masterlists | read on ao3

You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.

It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.

Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.

And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.

Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.

Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.

Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.

Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.

One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.

"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.

"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."

"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."

"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.

Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"

You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.

Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.

You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.

And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.

It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.

After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.

"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."

"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.

Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.

"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.

He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."

You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.

"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.

"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"

Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.

"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.

Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.

You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.

As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.

Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.

"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.

"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."

"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."

"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.

Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."

"I don't think your apologies are sincere."

"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."

You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."

Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."

"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?

A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"

He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.

But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.

You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."

With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.

Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.

But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.

This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.

Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.

He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.

Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.

Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.

And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.

At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.

But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.

Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.

"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"

"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.

The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.

Oh, how badly you've missed him.

"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."

You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."

"My lord, I–"

"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.

You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.

"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"

Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."

Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.

"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."

You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.

"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."

"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.

"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."

"Why not? I've always called you that."

"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."

"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."

"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."

"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."

"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.

"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"

Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.

In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.

You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.

The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.

"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.

He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.

"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.

"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."

"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.

"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.

You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.

Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.

"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."

"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.

"Darling–"

"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."

"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."

"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"

"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"

You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."

"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.

You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.

Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."

Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."

He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.

You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.

As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.

―

It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.

But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.

"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"

"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."

"Yes, please!"

Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.

Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.

To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.

Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.

Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.

"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"

You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.

They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.

You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.

Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.

Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.

Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you, so do you."

Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.

"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."

"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."

"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."

Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."

"I would never do such a thing."

She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."

You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.

She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."

"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.

"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."

"And...you said no?"

"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."

"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.

"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."

"I...Oh my, are you–?"

"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."

Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."

"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."

"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."

"I assure you I love him just as much."

"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."

"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"

"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."

"I shall tell you how it goes then."

"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.

Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.

"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."

"Of course, my lady," was all he said.

"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.

"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.

You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"

"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.

Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.

"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.

"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."

"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."

"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."

He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."

The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.

"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.

"Why?" was all he could say.

"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.

Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.

"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.

You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."

Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.

His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.

The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."

He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."

"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.

"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"

He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."

"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."

You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.

This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.

His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.

"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.

"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."

He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.

But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."

"And I'd have no complaints about that."

He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."

"We have many years to make amends for that."

"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."

"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."

You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."

You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.

"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"

You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."

Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."

You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."

"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."

"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"

"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."

He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton tv show #anthony bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fic #bridgerton fic

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cevansbrat0007 · 4 months

Text

Cross-Country Christmas

Summary: When Ari is left stranded at the airport on Christmas Eve, you find yourself in need of a little holiday miracle...

Warnings: Light Angst, Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Oral Sex (fem rec), Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Violent Thoughts, Minors DNI

A/N: Full story! Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

2:00pm, Christmas Eve – Bell’s Creek, Texas

You couldn’t believe this was happening. After spending the last several days out of town with his family, Ari had been due to fly back to Bell’s Creek tonight so that the two of you could spend the holiday together.

Your first Christmas as a couple.

But that was before the surprise arrival of the severe winter storm that was currently sweeping through the Midwest, resulting in numerous canceled flights that had left thousands stranded across the country – including your handsome Bounty Hunter.

“Are they at least trying to get you on another flight, or are you just shit out of luck?” Putting the phone on speaker, you set it on the counter so that you can go back to rolling out more dough for your next pie.

“Well, the airline is being a little evasive.” Ari admits, blowing out a heavy breath. You can practically hear him raking an agitated hand through his chestnut locks. “But with this storm comin’ in, I’m gettin’ the sense that I’m most likely fucked until tomorrow. Maybe a little longer.”

“This is exactly why you should’ve just stayed at your sister’s place.” You sniffle, blinking away tears as you wield your rolling pin with a touch more force than necessary.

“Bird.” You can tell he’s doing his best to keep hold of his patience.

“Oh, don’t “Bird” me.”

“Bird.” This time your name is spoken with a slightly more authoritative note. It’s one that your body recognizes almost immediately. “Please don’t start with me, okay? I’m not in the mood.”

Too bad you weren’t neccessarily in the mood to obey today.

“I’m just saying.” You continue, feeling more pissed at mother nature than anything else. “If you would’ve stayed with Evelyn and the kids at least you would’ve been able to be with your family on Christmas.” You toss the pin in the sink, wincing at the loud clatter it makes. “Now you’ll probably be stuck all alone, sleeping with a bunch of grumpy strangers at the flippin’ airport!”

“That’s enough of the sass, baby.” Ari grunts.

“It’s not sass if it’s the truth, Ari.” You hum, peering over at the apples you’ve got soaking in a bowl filled with 7-Up.

“Sweetheart.” The soft rebuke rolls easily off his tongue. “I made a promise to spend Christmas Day with you – all wrapped up in you – and it’s one I intend to keep. Somehow.” He tacks on the last bit, which unknowingly brings a smile to your lips.

“At this rate, you’re gonna be spending at least part of the holiday sleeping at your gate.”

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath.

“Want me to call the airline, sugar?” You ask as you go to rest your elbows on the counter so you can attempt to stretch the muscles in your lower back. “See if I can fight with ‘em enough so they at least put you up in a nice hotel so that you can get a good night’s rest?”

“Nah, baby. They got me on standby and all that. I’m trying to get away from this shithole as soon as possible.” While you appreciated his determination, not even your big, bad Bounty Hunter could beat a snowstorm.

“Hey! Omaha is not a shithole.” You chuckle, feeling a little defensive on behalf of a city you’d never visited. “I looked ‘em up. They’ve got some amazing museums.” You fish an apple slice out of the bowl and pop it into your mouth, chewing slowly. “I could have a good time in a place like that.”

“Then get your pretty ass down here already and we’ll take every goddamned tour they’ve got.”

“Would if I could, Beast.” You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. “I’d give anything to have you back in Bell’s Creek with me. I miss you taking up all the space in my tiny kitchen while you help yourself to my treats.”

“I know. I promise I’ll get there. Just do me a favor and don’t start looking for my replacement just yet, okay?”

Your stomach dips when you realize he’s about to say goodbye. Which is fine because you also still had a ton of baking to do. And while you still weren’t quite sure if you were going to follow through with your original Christmas Day dinner plans, the last thing you wanted was for Ari to hear you crying at the unfairness of it all over the phone.

It would only make him feel worse than he already did.

“I’m not sure if anyone could ever replace you, not that I would ever try.” You tell him honestly. “I love you too much.”

“Damn right you do.” Comes your man’s rich, self-assured reply. “No better feeling in the world than being loved by my Duchess.” The warmth in his tone has butterflies stirring in your belly.

They were the good kind of butterflies – the ones only Ari could cause.

“Go get some food and then call me in a bit.” You glance at the clock to check the time. At 2:06pm, there was no way that all hope was lost just yet. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll be an update.”

“Sure thing, baby. But the same goes for you. And don’t just snack – eat something real for me.” His bossy tone has your pulse kicking up.

“You didn’t say please.” Your hand goes to cover your mouth as you tamp down a playful giggle.

“Mmm.” Ari groans as he moves to stretch out the kinks in his back. At least that was what you imagined he was doing. “Could you please do me a kindness and keep feeding those curves? I reckon I’m gonna need a little taste of something sweet when I walk through that front door. You with me?”

“I–I’m with you.” You stammer slightly, your mouth suddenly dry. Another effect that man seemed to have on you. “And I promise I’ll eat. Now hang up with me and go make some friends or something.”

“Thank you, sweet girl. But we’ve been over this, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only friend I need.” He quips rather smugly, his voice deepening ever so slightly.

“Ari…” This had the makings of one of the older, more ridiculous arguments you’d had written all over it.

“Because the way I see it, we’re best friends.” He continues almost as if you hadn’t spoken. “What with all of the sleepovers, and the hair braiding, and don’t get me started on how many times you’ve kept me up late so you could make sure I’ve had my fill of all that sweetness you’ve got between –”

“Okay, okay, okay!” You cut him off with a hiss, not missing the way he laughs. “Fine, we can be best friends as long as you work on getting your cute butt home to me before Christmas, alright?”

“Yes, Duchess.” He finally replies after taking some time to collect himself. “You have my word I’ll keep working on that too. Just hold tight and I’ll be in touch with an update as soon as I have one.”

“Thank you, Beast. I’ll, uh, talk to you soon.”

“You can count on it.” Is all he says before the line goes dead, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

If Ari couldn’t make it back for Christmas, you would be devastated. Here you were, finally feeling safe in a secure and loving relationship, and now there was a strong possibility that you both might be forced to celebrate the holiday hundreds of miles apart from each other.

“God, I can feel a headache coming on.” You mumble as your fingers go to massage your temples.

8:30am, Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep.

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well.

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it came across a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.”

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you should dump out the pot and brew a fresh one.

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.”

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess.

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned.

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. Sometimes pushing his buttons a little managed to bring joy to your life.

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm.

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him.

“It was a joke.” You amend when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you could even be bothered enough to cook today.

Granted, the spiral cut ham you’d purchased from the butcher wouldn’t take very long in the oven. All you had to do now was throw together the glaze and it would be ready to do its thing. Plus, you’d already baked the pies yesterday, which meant that all that was left for the day was the cake.

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.”

You blow out a frustrated breath at the same time as you roll your eyes. Couldn’t he understand that you needed to make yourself laugh now and then in order to keep from crying? What was so wrong about that?

“I just said I was kidding. But if you wanna plead your case to someone, plead it to your new friend, Clint. See what he says.” The words tumble out faster than you can stop them.

Now you could feel your sadness slowly giving way to anger. Not at Ari or his newfound airport buddy, but at the situation as a whole. Which meant it was time to get off the phone before you said something you would later regret.

“And just what’s that supposed to mean, Duchess?”

“It’s – nothing.” You clamp your mouth shut and close the fridge, all the while trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Because if I had my way, I’d be there with you right now so we could have this stupid argument in person. You gotta know that.”

“I know.”

“Do you, sweetness?”

“Yes, I do.” You respond a touch more firmly, scrubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm. “I just hate this. I hate that it’s Christmas, and that you’re stuck all alone in Omaha and I’m here. But I don’t wanna fight with you, Beast. Not really. I just miss you.”

“So then let’s not fight.” His soft plea makes you sniffle. “I’m gonna go figure out how all this hotel bullshit works and get myself settled in. In the meantime, I want you to go take yourself a nice hot shower and just relax. I’ll call you later, okay?”

For a moment, you allow the gentle warmth of his voice to wash over you. If you closed your eyes it was almost like you could pretend he was with you now. As if he was only seconds away from wrapping his brawny arms your waist and hauling you close.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you imagine him burying his face in the crook of your neck, planting tiny kisses along your sensitive flesh until he had you giggling and squirming in his grasp.

“Bird?”

The sound of your nickname jolts you from your reverie, reminding you that it was time to say goodbye. At least for a little while. Good Lord, when had you become so needy for this man? It must’ve happened when you weren’t paying attention.

“Goodbye, Ari.” You whisper before using your thumb to end the call.

Setting your phone on the counte do a quick spin, silently taking stock of everything you still had to do. If you started cooking relatively soon, you’d be able to occupy yourself until mid-afternoon. And then you would take a shower, and while you were busy doing that you would figure out your next move.

You’re sitting in a chair that isn’t yours with your arms propped up on a desk that doesn’t belong to you while your chin rests on your palm. Instead of spending the afternoon moping, you’d decided to bring a little holiday cheer to your local boys in blue in the form of a home cooked Christmas dinner.

“Glad you like everything.” You say for what feels like the umpteenth time as you watch Bell’s Creek’s newest Deputy, Milton Foster, happily devour his second helping of macaroni and cheese.

A few days ago, you would never have imagined that this would be how you would spend your Christmas Day. But, as they say, beggars couldn’t be choosers. So, it was either enjoy a front row seat to watch Milton wolf down his food at an almost alarming speed, or you could go home and maybe watch a Christmas special on TV.

Alone. By yourself. Yeah, no thanks.

“Yep.” Milton grunts once he finally comes up for air. He manages a sip of his drink before diving back in for a slice of glazed ham, stabbing it with his fork and shoveling it into his mouth. “Looks like Levinson’s loss is my gain. Sorry buddy.”

The words are spoken through a mouthful of food, but you understand them just fine. But just because Milton was arguably your favorite member of the town’s police force didn’t mean he was above pricking your temper every now and again.

And today you were feeling mighty prickly.

“Another crack like that and no pie for you.” That stops him cold, his sharp gray eyes immediately zeroing-in on the whole cherry pie you’d decided to bring along as dessert.

“My apologies.” He beats a hasty retreat, using his fist to muffle a burp. “You know I was only kiddin’. I’m just happy I don’t have to subject myself to another year of Ma’s Christmas Tuna Casserole.” He shudders playfully. “I don’t think I coulda’ handled that one.”

“Yikes.” You mutter before pushing away from the desk to stretch your legs.

“Yeah, it’s a hard-knock life.” He offers you a smile before wiping at his face with a napkin. “You sure you’re not hungry? I know the man’s not here, but I doubt he’d like the idea of me sittin’ here stuffin’ my face while you nurse a Diet Coke.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “He knows how I am. After tasting and smelling everything for hours on end, I’m not typically all that hungry.”

Which was one of the reasons your Beast liked to take it upon himself to help you work up an appetite – usually by stripping down and fucking you senseless. But Deputy Milton didn’t need to know all of that.

“Hm. More for me I guess.” He hums, snagging another freshly buttered dinner roll.

“Yep.” The word is spoken like an airy sigh. “More for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to go find the ladies room.” You rise to your feet and polish off your beverage before tossing it in the trash. “Be back in a jiff.”

Forty Minutes Later…

The drive from the station back to your place feels surprisingly short. Loneliness weighs on you like a heavy blanket as you pull into the driveway and kill the engine. Groaning, you let your head collide against the steering wheel with a dull thunk.

As much as you didn’t want to go inside, you knew you couldn’t linger out here in your car forever. It was much too cold for an extended outdoor moping session. You’d probably catch frostbite halfway through.

You briefly debate giving Ari a call. Other than exchanging a few text messages here and there, you hadn’t heard from him since this morning. The thought of him being upset with you on Christmas just didn’t sit right.

Maybe you’d call him later, after you’d put the food away and gotten ready for bed. Perhaps you’d even convince him to FaceTime with you so that you could enjoy teasing him while nibbling on a slice of the red velvet cake you’d baked especially for him.

Yes, that was the new plan. But first, you had to get out of the car. Grabbing your purse, you duck out the driver’s side door and make a mad dash up your walkway. It’s so cold that your teeth are already chattering by the time you finally fish your keys out of your bag to let yourself in.

First, you had work to do. And then you would check-in with your man just to make sure that all was right with your world.

8:30pm, Christmas Day – Bell’s Creek, Texas

Glass of wine in hand, you plop down on your living room couch with a defeated huff. You’d just tried Ari a few minutes ago while standing in the kitchen, wearing nothing but your new lacy, red chemise and matching thong you’d purchased just for tonight.

Because you’d known how much Ari would like it.

Except your Bounty Hunter hadn’t answered. Instead, it had gone straight to voicemail both times. Even if he was still pissed at you, you were confident that he would’ve answered. The only reason he would’ve ignored you was if–

Just then your phone dings, alerting you of a new text message. Reaching into the pocket of your robe, you’re elated when you see Ari’s name flash across the screen. But your hopes are soon dashed the moment you read the words written on the screen.

“Hey. Out with Clint. We’ll talk in a bit.”

For a second you’re almost too stunned to speak. Were you really playing second fiddle to a man he’d just met? And all because you’d been a little snippy with him this morning? No. That couldn’t be right.

Your bottom lip begins to tremble as you hastily type out the words: “I miss you.” And it only gets worse when he responds with a simple thumbs up emoji. That fucking bastard!

“Oh fuck you, Ari Levinson. And you too, Clint!” You snarl, snagging your wine and angrily gulping it down. “I’m sure you both will be very happy in Omaha. Where you can fucking stay. Forever!”

Now thoroughly pissed, you stomp your way back into the kitchen to fetch the bottle you’d left behind before returning determined to find something on television. So you could ignore the fact that your heart was breaking.

On fucking Christmas Day.

After a few minutes, you settle on the live action version of A Muppet Christmas Carol. And then you grab a blanket and snuggle up. You’d deal with all of this later. Preferably after your second glass of wine.

Hell, you might even need a third to convince yourself that murder was not the acceptable way to handle these kinds of problems in a relationship. Perhaps you’d simply pour a little sugar in the tank of his truck and see how that made you feel.

Sure, you were probably being petty. But seeing as you’d been on an emotional roller coaster for the better part of two days, you were more than ready to hop the hell off this ride. Ari could stay put for all you cared.

Anger aside, there was no denying the fact that you were absolutely crushed. With that in mind, you decide that you’re not answering whenever Ari finally found the time and inclination to call you back. If he was busy, then you would be too.

You finish off your vino before snuggling even deeper under your blanket. It was officially time for you to go to bed. And when you woke up tomorrow, hopefully all of this would be nothing more than a bad dream.

And if it wasn’t, then you might find yourself asking the Lord for forgiveness after you let the air out of one of your man’s precious tires.

10:45pm, Christmas Day – Bell’s Creek, Texas

“Wake up, little Bird.”

A faint brush of lips along your cheek has your eyes slowly fluttering open as your body fights through the last vestiges of sleep. You weren’t sure what had woken you up. Hell, you didn’t even know what time it was.

You take a moment to stretch before sitting up to reach for your phone. Squinting, you scroll through the handful of last minute messages you’d received from a couple of friends during your nap. But unfortunately there’s still nothing from the one person you’d been hoping to hear from the most.

Ari.

Your eyes stray to the TV and you’re confused when you see the black screen staring back at you. Now that was strange. Maybe you drank a little more wine than you thought.

You curiously examine the still half-full bottle sitting on your coffee table with so much focus that you almost miss the notes of Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song filtering into your living room.

It was your favorite song, but the last time you checked, it had not been set to autoplay. Which meant someone was in your house.

“Hello?” You call as you rise to your feet, stepping over your blanket as it falls to the floor. Your hands come up to rub your arms in an effort to ward off the slight chill in the air.

The warm scent of spiced cinnamon apples fills your nostrils and delights your senses as you round the corner and scurry into the kitchen. Your legs don’t stop moving until you’re standing mere feet away from the one man who seemed to rent space in your mind from sunup to sundown.

Ari Levinson.

He’s standing there in your kitchen wearing a pair of dark blue denim jeans and a slate gray thermal, eagerly helping himself to an impressive slice of red velvet cake. He smiles at you through a mouthful of dessert, and it’s impossible to miss the way his sparkling blue eyes darken once he gets a good look at the red silk robe that matched your holiday lingerie.

“I don’t believe it. Y–you’re home.” You breathe as one of your hands flies to your chest, seeking to calm your increasingly erratic heartbeat. “But–but how?” Clearly, forming coherent sentences wasn’t your strong suit right now.

“I made my woman a promise.” Ari shrugs, setting his now empty plate aside. “And like I told you, I aimed to see it through. That cake is fucking fantastic by the way.”

“You managed to catch a flight?” You’re so convinced that he might disappear again that you’re almost afraid to drink.

“Nah. Clint and I decided to rent a truck and brave the elements in favor of a little cross-country road trip.” He leans back against the counter, as if bracing himself for your response. And you sure as shit aren’t the type to disappoint.

“Through a flippin’ blizzard?!” You squeal, gripping your face in your hands. “Jesus H. Christ, Beast! Are you insane?!”

“Clearly.” His grin quickly fades into a grimace when you let out another scream as you flail your arms wide.

“I can’t believe you did this!” You tell him as you feel hot tears wet your cheeks. “I can’t believe you–you…you’re here on Christmas.” The words come tumbling out as the dam breaks.

“Bird…”

Ari reaches for you then, although you’re quick to bat his hands away in favor of throwing your arms around his neck and hauling him close. At a loss for what else to do, one of his heavy palms comes to rest on your lower back, rubbing in small, soothing circles while you busy yourself with sobbing into his broad chest.

“Breathe, baby. There we go.” He coos softly, waiting patiently for you to pull away long enough for him to get a good look at your tear stained face.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” You hiccup, using his thermal to dry your eyes. “But I’m also really mad at you for putting yourself in danger like that. You and Clint.” You quickly amend, offering him a watery smile. “You could’ve died, and then I would’ve had to kill you.”

You weren’t joking. You’d been experiencing a variety of violent thoughts lately.

“Is that right?” Ari wraps your arms around his neck again as you two begin to sway to the beat of the music playing in the background. “Well, I’ll make sure to pass that on.”

“Please do.” You murmur as you rest your ear on his chest, content to listen to the sound of his heartbeat. “Was it a long drive?” You allow your eyes to fall closed as you wait for him to respond. Regardless of his answer, you’re determined to keep your calm.

“Eh, about ten hours or so.” He hums, dipping your bodies in time with the song. “Give or take. But the weather got much better around the middle of Kansas. We took our time. We were careful. In fact, Clint’s still out there.”

“Oh God, why?”

“He’s headed to Louisiana. Something about needing to track down an old friend named Nat.” He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before pushing you away so that he can twirl you around. “But enough about him. I missed you, Bird.” He briefly pauses your dance before bringing your knuckles to his mouth, making you melt.

“Yeah?” You purr, rising on your toes to nip at his jaw. “I missed you too. That’s why I’m wearing one of your Christmas presents. I was gonna show it to you on FaceTime, but you didn’t answer.”

Apparently because he’d been too busy driving across the country at the time. Who would’ve thought?

“This all for me?” His hands go to the belt of your robe, deftly undoing the knot. Once free, you give a little shimmy, content to let the robe pool on the floor at your bare feet. “Oh, yes the fuck it is.” The silky timbre of his voice has you soaking your panties.

As if they weren’t already ruined.

“Merry Christmas.” Planting your hands on either side of his bearded jaw, you draw him down until your lips meet his. Groaning, your Bounty Hunter wastes almost no time deepening the kiss, his expert tongue sweeping past your defenses to duel with your own.

God, he tasted so good. Like spearmint and coffee on a cold winter’s night. You honestly had no idea just how much you'd truly needed this man.

“Next time your sexy ass is comin’ with me.” Ari snarls, breaking the kiss to lightly tug at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Was gonna lose my mind if I had to go another day without this.”

“Okay, Beast.” You whimper when he sharply smacks your ass. “Whatever you say.” Right now, this man had no idea just how close you were to giving him whatever he wanted. All he had to do was ask. “Oooh!” You jolt when he delivers another blow. “Yes, baby. More!”

You’re rewarded with yet another delicious spank, which goes straight to your already aching clit. It was taking everything in you not to reach between your thighs and touch your dripping pussy.

But you refuse to give in, knowing that your man would want that privilege all for himself.

“Mine.” He rasps, his tone taking on an almost feral quality as his calloused palms go to cup your heavy breasts through the thin fabric of your teddy. “Missed these perfect fuckin’ tits.” That’s your only warning before he grips the front of your garment and tearing it in two like it was nothing.

“Ari!” You gasp, arching your back when your man leans down to capture a pouting nipple into his warm, wet mouth. He sucks hard, using his tongue to tease the sensitive flesh. “Ungh!” You squirm in his grasp as long fingers dig into your hips to hold you in place for his sensual assault.

Eventually, he releases you with a slight pop, just as his hands fall away from your hips. “Hope you’re ready, baby. Cuz’ I ain’t lettin’ you outta bed until New Year’s.” His roguish grin has a fresh tendril of heat unfurling in your belly. “Maybe later.”

“You’re all talk.” You giggle, slowly backing away as Ari continues to stalk towards you, using his muscular body to his advantage.

“Nah.” He shrugs, his grin growing impossibly wider when your ass connects with your dining room table. “I can’t wait to lose myself between those thick thighs. Want you to fuckin’ suffocate me, baby.”

Your Bounty Hunter drops to his knees in front you before burying his nose in your panty covered pussy and inhaling deeply. You feel your legs begin to quiver when he does it again, a soft cry escapes your lips when you feel his sharp teeth graze over the outline of your swollen clit.

“Need you to fuckin’ drown me while eat this pretty cunt.” Ari growls, delicately nipping at your inner thigh. “Swear I fuckin' see God every time I get you to sit on my face. That's how divine you taste.”

“Oh!” You whine as he nuzzles his nose against the swollen bundle of nerves, making your core spasm.

“But first, I’m gonna fuck you.” He places one last open-mouthed kiss on your mound before standing up and spinning you around in one blended motion. You cry out when your hands slap against the cool wooden surface. “Teach you a lesson for all the sass you fed me earlier today.”

On a growl, Ari makes quick work of his jeans, shoving them down his hair covered thighs along with his boxers almost faster than you can blink.

“I’m so sorry, Beast…” You moan, offering up your stinging rump for another smack. Thankfully, Ari is more than happy to oblige. “Please…please...” Next thing you know, your thong has joined the rest of your ruined lingerie, putting your weeping cunt on display.

You let out a harsh gasp when you feel his hard, fat cock enter you in one swift thrust. Not wanting to wake the entire neighborhood with your screams, you find yourself biting down on your fist to keep yourself quiet.

Ari takes a moment to readjust his position, spreading his legs so that he can go deeper, get a better angle. He loves the way you sob for him, the needy little sounds you make while he fucks the shit out of your greedy little pussy.

His hips snap in time with the music as your sweat-slick flesh connects again and again – driving you both closer to the brink. Your passion-filled cries fill the room as Ari somehow finds a way to go even deeper, giving it to you so good you know you’re gonna feel him inside you for days.

Just the way you liked it.

“Best Christmas ever, Duchess.” Your man grips the front of your throat, holding you in place while he uses you the way he needs to. God, he made you feel so good. Even when he had you ready to pull your hair out, he still had this way about him that made almost everything feel infinitely better.

“Best-oh God! More!” You cry out, your eyes rolling in the back of your head when he spanks your pussy with a measured flick of his wrist. This man wanted you to see stars, and he was more than up to the challenge. “Oh Jesus - f–fuck yeah!”

“There we go, sweetheart.” Ari purrs as his thrusts become a little more erratic. “Now how ‘bout we see how many times I can fill you up before the clock strikes midnight?”

“I–ooh!” You open your mouth to respond, only to let out a small shriek when he administers another wet smack.

“Huh.” He chuckles, leaving a trail of kisses along the curve of your throat. “Guess I’ll just have to take that as a yes.”

END

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too.

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice.

“How are you, princess?”

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe.

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?”

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead.

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger.

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing.

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.”

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?”

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him.

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off.

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him.

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high.

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round.

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night.

#kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #Kento Nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk nanami

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little-diable · 6 months

Text

Professor Malfoy – Prof!Draco Malfoy (smut)

At least y/n can experience all my professor phantasies. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us motivated. Enjoy my loves! xxx

Summary: The reader works as Professor Malfoy's TA, a man she had been crushing on ever since meeting him at Hogwarts all these years ago; but kind of just pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral (m), some face fucking, professor x ta

Pairing: Professor Draco Malfoy x fem!ta!reader (1.8k words)

“Here, let me take that.” Professor Malfoy’s voice rang in her ears, watching his hand reach out to take the books (y/n) was carrying. All she could do was nod her head, unable to speak up with the man standing this close. Could he hear her racing heartbeat? Could he tell that she was awfully nervous?

“Coffee?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to speak up, still not used to being this close to the man she was working for. (Y/n) had to clear her throat, slowly nodding her head as she stepped into his office. The door fell shut with a soft thud, a sound that finally managed to rip (y/n) out of her state, the ice was slowly melting, it allowed her to relax, to move without overthinking her every step. “Here you go.”

Professor Malfoy placed the cup down on the coffee table, watching (y/n) sink down on the all too comfortable couch. She didn't pick up on the smile tugging on his lips, didn’t pick up on the soft glance he shot her way, tongue kissing his teeth. He shuffled around, reached for the papers they still needed to grade, wordlessly sitting down next to (y/n).

“Do you have another pen for me? I think I lost mine somewhere.” (Y/n) thumbed through her bag, unable to find the red pen she had been using the past weeks. The two have built some kind of routine, after he was done with teaching his classes, where she’d support him whenever students asked questions, they found their way to his office, spending hours on end in the quiet room.

“Here, take mine.” Their fingers touched for a few seconds, a touch that shot shudders down her spine, pupils dilating as her body clung to the sensation. Fuck, she needed to get a grip, need to get over the crush she had fostered on the man for years. The two had met at Hogwarts years ago, barely sharing a word, since he was older and couldn’t care less about the younger students. But (y/n) had always found herself drawn to him, wanting to get to know him, wanting to feel his eyes on her – mere dreams she hadn’t been able to shake ever since their first run in at this university.

A comfortable silence engulfed the two, allowing (y/n) to relax even further into the couch, shuffling around to make herself comfortable. She didn’t notice the way his eyes ran up and down her frame, didn’t notice the smile he wore as he reached for her shoulder, giving her a soft push to pull her down to his lap, head resting on his thigh. (Y/n) looked up at him with wide eyes, not daring to move as he redirected his gaze to the papers he was reading.

Heat flushed through her, no longer able to focus on the papers she was supposed to grade. Her mind fully focused on the feeling of his thumb stroking the exposed part of her shoulder, making goosebumps rise on her skin. It took her a few more seconds to rip her eyes away from his handsome face, teeth buried in her lower lip as her shaky hands tightened their grip on the papers.

“You know,” he murmured his words, placing down his papers to fully direct his attention down onto (y/n). “Ever since I saw you in one of my classes, I wondered if we’d ever cross paths again.”

“Did you? I didn’t think you’d ever notice me.” A soft laugh left (y/n), hands also placing down the papers. He kept stroking her skin, hand slowly wandering down her arm, to her fingers. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) felt him interlace their fingers, making her heart skip a handful of beats. The professor’s free hand found her face, cupping her cheek, with his gaze flickering between her curious eyes and her lips. She didn’t dare move, patiently waiting for him to do something, to give into the pull both were clearly taken hostage by.

His thumb found her mouth, softly tracing her lips. Draco didn’t expect her to part her lips, sucking his digit into her mouth – a movement that forced his eyes to darken. Before she could even begin to understand what he was doing, he had pulled her into a sitting position, lips clashing against hers without another warning.

It felt like her world had suddenly stopped spinning, everything was on hold, allowing (y/n) to fully focus on the feeling of his lips moving against hers. The kiss was spurred on by their longing, by the stolen glances they had shared over the past months, by their desires they hadn’t acted on till this very moment.

“If you only knew about the things you are doing to me.” He murmured his words against her lips, groaning into her mouth as her hands found his neck, tugging on his blonde roots. Their tongues met, battling a war of lust, of longing, a war both were determined to win. She crawled into his lap without breaking the kiss, clinging to him as if he was her lifeline, rescuing her from drowning in the cold, dark ocean.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” (Y/n)’s confession forced a smirk onto his lips, hands finding her thighs, moving up her legs to disappear beneath her skirt. All she could do was to keep still, holding her breath as his fingers found her soaked panties, meeting her covered, pulsing bundle of nerves. His eyes didn’t dare break contact as he raised his eyebrows, wordlessly waiting for her consent, not wanting to keep on touching her without hearing (y/n) speak the words. “Please, touch me, wherever you want to touch me.”

A satisfied hum left the man, fingers successfully pushing her panties aside. (Y/n)’s quiet moans rang in his ears as he teased her clit, rubbing the soft spot to push forceful waves of anticipation through her. She tried to shuffle closer, wanting to feel more of him, desperate for him to own her body and soul. His cold fingers felt unfamiliar on her skin, a touch she had been aching for ever since she had first seen him, wondering how and if he’d ever pull her closer.

(Y/n)’s hands found their way down his chest, to his black trousers, toying with the silver buckle of his belt. A groan left the man as she freed his twitching cock, carefully grasping him in her hands. Draco watched her with amazement swimming in his pupils, gaze torn between her fingers and her features. He kept moving his thumb, forcing moans out of her whenever he added more pressure, trying to bite down the need to bury his cock inside of her. But (y/n) seemed to fight the same battle, pulling him in for another teeth clashing kiss.

“Professor,” the word was whimpered against his lips, leaving him to hum, waiting for (y/n) to keep on talking. “Fuck me, please. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Something inside of him seemed to snap, pushing her off his lap and back against the couch, hovering above her. The sound of her panties being torn apart rang in her ears, forcing a gasp out of (y/n) that momentarily distracted her from the feeling of his cock being aligned with her entrance. He sank into her all too effortlessly, forcing her walls to clench around him, needing to adjust to his size. The both of them needed a few seconds before Draco started to move, balancing his frame with one hand placed on the armrest of the couch and the other holding her thigh.

(Y/n) tightened the grip her legs had on his waist, keeping him as close as possible, not wanting to part from him ever again. Draco fucked her without holding back, sinking deeper into her tightness with every passing thrust, set on making her forget about their surroundings.

The sweetest sounds left (y/n), fingernails leaving marks on his neck, set on marking him up, set on claiming him with her heart beating in sync with his. Both tried to keep their sounds to a minimum, not daring to catch the attention of the people walking past his office, and yet they struggled to do so, connecting their lips again to swallow their sounds.

She choked on his name, eyes rolling back into her head as he nudged her swollen spot, grinning in victory about finding the spot that would push her into her orgasms' open arms. (Y/n) sneaked one hand between them, rubbing her clit to give in, to follow the call of the sensation she had been aching for for years.

“I got you, pretty girl, let go for me.” Draco felt her walls clamp down on his cock, telling him that she was about to cum, set on fucking her through her high before he’d give in. He watched her fall apart, watched the pleasure-drunken expression tug on her features as he kept burying his cock inside her tightness. It was a moment he’d never forget, Draco was sure of it, mind and heart fully taken over by her.

Draco pulled away from her before he could cum inside of her, groaning in surprise as her hand reached for his cock, shuffling around to put her mouth on him. Their eyes found back together as she slightly nodded, allowing the moaning man to fuck her mouth. She gagged around him, clawed her fingernails into his thighs, taking every inch he forced down her throat.

He twitched in her mouth a few seconds before he came, filling her cheeks with his cum, allowing a deep, raspy moan to claw through him. She greedily swallowed every drop, humming around him, wordlessly thanking him for what had just happened.

Draco parted from her with a grin, tugging himself back into his trousers, watching (y/n) reach for her torn panties, unable to stop a huff from leaving her. His chuckles forced her to give into her own laughter clawing through her, pulled back into his open arms with a kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth.

“We really need to finish these papers, but I don’t think I can concentrate knowing you’re not wearing any panties now.”

“And whose fault is this, huh?”

#Draco Malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy x reader #professor fic #Harry Potter smut

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