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sprout-fics · 8 months

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Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Eight: First Rut)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Slow burn, Courting rituals, Omega discrimination, Sexual harassment, Protective Ghost, Team dynamics, Alpha rutting behavior, Possessiveness, Scenting

Masterlist

Ghost has been acting...odd since your last mission

It was a complete success, you eliminated a cell of terrorists, managed to display the full scope of your skills, seamlessly integrated yourself into the style of the team around you.

Yet despite the success, Ghost seems…unsettled. Not himself.

You see it in the tight draw of his shoulders, the curled fists at his side, the way he barks orders harsher than usual at recruits. He’s a taut ball of pent of frustration and anxiety, and even when you try to gently press towards him, try to assist, Ghost only shrugs you off and stalks away

You think it’s something you’ve done, and you can’t even fix it. It doesn’t help that you’re busy with a new assignment to inquire into Ghost’s sudden shift in demeanor

In fact, it only seems to make it worse.

Being an omega of your rank is its own set of issues, a scrutiny placed on you unlike your beta and alpha peers. Yet it's the fact that you're still off your suppressants, waltzing around base carrying the scent of more than one person that draws an unfortunate amount of attention to you

There's whispers about you on base, low murmurs you hear as you pace past other soldiers in the hallways. They shoot you scathing looks, sneer under their breath words you can't hear

You ignore it as best you can, knowing the more you pay attention, the worse it'll get. Nobody has the courage to say what they're thinking to your face

Not until they do

You're in a disagreement with a fellow officer about a supply cache, and he's flippantly dismissing you, waving you off like an errant fly that bothers him with your noise more than anything

It infuriates you, and you know exactly where he's coming from with his dismissal of your feedback. When you challenge him on it, the man wheels on you, snarling, showing teeth. He rises to his full alpha posture, towers over you even as you stand your ground, hissing down at you

"Why should I take orders from the 141's omega bitch?"

You bristle before you can stop yourself, barking a retort back that has the officer snarl, raise his fist in retaliation

Before it comes down, the arm is wrenched back at a horrible, painful angle with a skeletal gloved hand, and the alpha yelps

“The bleedin’ hell did you just say?” Ghost snarls, towering over the younger officer, the snarl so deep in his chest it bottoms out in his lungs. The man before you pales at the sound, quickly drops his arm back to his side. Yet he doesn’t concede, not yet, instead trying to press up to Ghost and snarling another insult about you like you aren’t even there

Ghost growls, and though he doesn’t move forward you feel the air around you grow thick as he throws his scent out, refusing to conceal the utter fury that lurks there. Untamed, unrestrained, a taut rope of lethal energy that has the man before you shrink, has you shiver at the pure, unadulterated display of alpha prowess Ghost shoves in the other man’s face

Yet then he leans down to the other man’s ear, whispers something there you can’t hear, something that makes the man pale, face ashen with fear

He excuses himself quickly, ducks his head and skitters off

Then Ghost turns to you

It’s only then that you catch the full extent of his scent. Carnivorous, lethal, yes. Yet beneath that there’s the tightly held energy he’s been holding onto all week, one that’s been picking his bones clean and leaving only marrow to remain

There’s lust.

Oh. You realize belatedly. He’s going into rut.

Simon takes a single step towards you, and you remain where you stand, allowing him to close the distance between you even as your heart beats like a war drum in your chest

His scent washes over your senses, charcoal and aphrodisia, intoxicatingly sweet and overpowering all at once. The utter sensation of it, of smelling this alpha who has scented you, protected you, fucked you, is too much all at once

There’s something in your hindbrain that rapidly overpowers any other thought, replacing it only with protection, shelter, strength, provider, submission, alpha-

It clenches low between your legs, the memory of him between them, of your head cradled in Johnny’s lap as his mate fucked you through your nearly fatal heat pooling low your belly with a licking, fiery warmth

You tilt your head towards him on instinct, baring the flesh of your neck and scarcely containing a mewl when he rumbles deep in his throat, pleased

Your knees go weak at the sound, and when you tremble Ghost pushes you back so you’re flush with the wall, trembling as one hand keeps you upright, the other snaking up so a thumb begins to skim over your gland-

Ghost removes himself abruptly with a snarl, completely disattaching himself from you and stalking away with long strides, gripping at his mask as if it’s suffocating him

Leaving you, trembling against a wall, breath too warm and quick in your chest, reeling from the lingering scent that curls in your brain with a sickeningly sweet temptation of Mate.

You’re not sure what to do. You want to help, the desire to assist one of your packmates itching uncomfortably in your brain. Simon has locked himself away, and you catch Soap with a small satchel of supplies making a beeline towards the lieutenant’s quarters, prepared for a days long assist to one of his mates

He smiles at you when you inquire, not unkind, ang gently pats you on the shoulder in reassurance, tells you Simon’s rut is unexpected and needs some special handling, then leaves you

So you go to Price, finding him cradling his brow in his hands, a furrow which only deepens when you express your desire to help

“No.” He tells you flatly, and you can’t contain the little look of hurt that flickers across your face. Upon seeing it, he softens

“When was the last time you were with an alpha in rut?” He asks, and though it’s invasive, you don’t necessarily mind given the context. Even so, you shift on your feet, eyes downturned, and your silence speaks volumes

Price nods, as if he expected this

“Ghost can be rough with his partners when he ruts.” Price explains gently. “He doesn’t want that so early in your relationship, and I don’t blame the man for it.”

That, at least, gives you pause

The Ghost you knew when he fucked you through your heat the first time was almost clinical, doing what he could to flush toxins from your system, removing his emotions from the situation in favor of saving your life. You realize now that this is different

So you sit that evening in your bunk, mind chaotic with the want to help, to please an alpha that is not yet yours, remembering the feeling of his warm breath on your nape, the answering mewls you gave him as his knot wedged inside your dripping entrance

Fuck

You’re torn from your thoughts at a knock at your door, and when you open it you find Gaz. The beta is a little disheveled, eyes just a touch glassy but mostly still coherent, but reeking of the acrid, musky smell of an alpha in rut

“Sorry to ask, doll.” He confesses quietly, not stepping inside and instead hovering at the door “Can I bother you for a blanket?”

You almost want to ask him if he can’t get one from the commissary, but then realize why he needs it

You strip your bed, removing the blankets and sheets thick with your scent, pushing them into his arms and feeling your chest flutter when the sergeant take s long, deep inhale of them before smiling wearily

“I’ll have them clean when they come back.” He tells you, and turns to leave

“Wait.”

Gaz blinks, pauses, and then sucks in a sharp inhale when you lean up, drag your cheek across his and nuzzle the underside of his jaw, leaving a deep impression of your scent across him

You hear Gaz groan

He smiles then, sunny as a fresh morning, and returns the gesture with a soft peck to your forehead

“See you in a few days.” He tells you quietly, and once more needs coils tightly between your thighs. After he leaves you fail to help yourself, burying your face into the bed as you palm yourself through your underwear, lost in the reminder of their touch on you, of Ghost’s voice purring in your ear as you whimpered into the desert sand

Taglist:

(Please have an 18+ or similar age disclaimer in your bio to be tagged in this fic)

@alicesfracturedmirror @emrzennn @scatter-mind001 @josieguts @angryvengeful @ramadiiiisme @mutuallimbenclosure @waves-against-a-cliff @sunnynomoar @miyabilicious @piratesfromspace @sofasoap @soapskneebrace @writeforfandoms @waltzthegenderfluidpan @ghosts-goldendoodle @cherrycoloredfunk86 @lostagoodcigar @tbrfic @appleschloss @tizylish @misshoneypaper @kkinky @reaper-chan666 @kenma-izhu @shinebright2000 @zalyluvvs @neoarchipelago @essencse @dankest-farrik @mirthlxss @bi-witch-bxtch

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#call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 #poly tf141 #omegaverse call of duty #cod omegaverse #tf 141 x reader #my writing #my fic #x reader

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ken-dom · 8 months

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NSFW Ken Headcanons

Warnings/content: It’s pure smut, Ken definitely has a penis in this, hand job, oral, praise kink, begging, aftercare, gn!reader

I originally posted this to my main blog but I'm re-posting all my work here to have everything in one place due to an unresolved tagging issue on my main

Sometimes cries out a strangled ‘Sublime!’ when he cums

Speaking of cum, it’s glittery ✨

Usually announces when he’s close because he’s so excited about it

Would be happy to dry hump as long as it’s with you, but give him a handjob and it changes his life forever

Takes him a few times to get over how good it feels when you bring him off to begin with, but after he’s calmed down a bit he’s laser focussed on your pleasure

Learns your body really quickly

Literally cannot keep his hands off you once he’s had a taste and he wants you to touch him all the time, too

The first time you suck him off he’s pretty sure he died of pleasure and came back to life while you were kissing him after

Total horn dog once you open up his eyes to all the different ways you can make him feel good

When you first got together he would cum in his pants just from making out if you were pressed against him just right

On that note, he really likes it when you press your thigh between his legs while you make out

Such a needy, whiny mess

Every moan and gasp he elicits from you is the sweetest praise he’s a ever heard, so he memorises every little touch and every reaction they get

He is SO loud, and at the slightest touch. You have to kiss him to swallow his moans if you’re trying to be quiet, or, if he’s feeling ✨kinky✨ he’ll let you put a hand over his mouth

Huge kink for begging, he discovers. You moan out a, ‘Please!’ one time and that’s it, he’s obsessed

Really good with his hands. Like. It’s unreal how skilled those elegant fingers are

His gaze is so intense when you’re making out and pull away to catch your breath or tell him what you want to do to him

Likes to see your face when you cum. And if you make eye contact too, he’s done for

Loves you to tangle your fingers in his hair when he goes down on you

Feels so safe when he’s with you and it’s slow and intimate and he can bury his beautiful face against your neck, gasping against your skin

Whimpers so needily when you praise him. During or after

Praise him too much too soon and he won’t last

But it doesn’t matter because he’s eager, and he will happily start all over again and take his time on you while he regains his strength

Doesn’t actually take him long at all to get hard again so you’re not left waiting if you want him to fuck you

Doesn’t matter how many times you get together, he cheeks always flush when you start kissing him

If you mess his hair up he tries to keep it that way so he can show off to the other Kens’

Always really excited to try new things with you, surprising you with ideas for positions he’d like to try, and later new sex toys when he discovers them

Almost feints when you explain what 69ing is

The BIGGEST cuddler after sex

And sometimes takes the opportunity to show off his muscular arms with a cheeky smirk

Melts when you squeeze his big muscles or caress his chest

His aftercare with you is brushing each others hair and putting matching pyjamas on to cuddle while he tells you how amazing he thinks you are for being turned on by him and satisfying him so thoroughly

#not s f w 💀#ken #ken x reader #ken x you #ken smut #ken x y/n #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling x you #ryan gosling!ken #ryan!ken #ryan gosling #rg!ken #ryan gosling ken #ken barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #ken-dom writes #ken fic #kenergy

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lightning-writes · 4 months

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good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 21/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: Bucky and Rue have a snowy moment (alternatively: Rue defends Bucky)

word count: 2367

tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: panic attack, mention of weapons

a/n: this chapter will give you whiplash, but the slow burn is burning friends! hope you enjoy and happy new year!

P.S. SPECIAL AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END

AO3 MASTERLIST X

“Do you think it’ll snow?”

Rue and Bucky are walking to yet another store, not having much luck in finding gifts for her co-workers from the restaurant. She told him she’d bought the ‘big gifts’ already and had some smaller gifts to buy.

(She also mentioned she’d bought his gift weeks ago, which falters his steps.

The last gift he’d ever received was from Steve, the notebook in his pocket. It’s nearly full now, a shared memory between friends, brothers.

Before that, the only other kindness he’d received for decades was his new prosthetic from the Wakandans. He could argue it was an investment, but Ayo’s skill of breaking the brainwashing had put him forever in her and Wakanda’s debt.)

“It feels like it,” he mutters, mind still stuck on their previous conversation.

(It took a few minutes after she mentioned a gift for him to ask what she wanted for Christmas. She had laughed, waved him off, and said she didn’t need anything. When he pressed, she’d shaken her head and said any gift is a good gift.

This had his brain racing through all the small details he knows about her, cataloging all the things he could get her… but his brain is firing blanks.)

“I hope so,” he hears the smile in her voice without looking at her, “we haven’t had a white Christmas in a while.”

The city is always busy, but it’s the Saturday before Christmas. The place is a maze. When the space narrows, Bucky allows her to step ahead of him, keeping an eye out. Busy streets usually lead to hidden dangers.

“Hey,” she nudges his arm with hers. He finally looks over to her earnest gaze. “I know you’re a quiet guy, but what’s going through that brain of yours?”

“Nothing,” he says too quickly. She narrows her eyes.

“Bucky, don’t make a big deal about the gift thing, please. I’m getting a gift for Greta… it’s not that serious.”

It’s a minor hit to his ego, but he also knows she’s downplaying it. “Easy for you to say.”

She rolls her eyes and takes his hand. It’s his prosthetic, and she startles away from it.

“Sorry,” he says immediately, tucking it back into his pocket.

“No, you’re just cold,” she says with a laugh. Surprising him, she reaches into his pocket and takes his hand out again. “I have… a weird question.”

He glances at her, studying his metal hand in hers. “Go on.”

(Admittedly, Bucky realizes she could easily ask him anything about the metal arm, and he’d tell her. Maybe it’s because he’s started to trust her. Maybe it’s because he can’t remember the last time someone willingly touched the prosthetic without making it weird or clinical.)

“Does your arm make you… cold?” He watches her grow more sheepish as the seconds pass. “Like, because it’s metal and attached to your body? I mean, are you always cold… or…?”

He laughs at the incredulity of the question. Her accosted look is dramatic. He laughs as he explains, “No one's ever asked me that before.”

(His grip on her hand tightens as they pass through unyielding pedestrians.)

“It doesn’t now, but it used to… my other arm, from…”

“Hydra,” she whispers close to him. He nods.

“Besides, with the Serum, I tend to run a little hot,” he dodges someone walking the opposite way, steering Rue out of the way as well, “so it was never really an issue.”

“Well, it’s too cold for me,” she lets go of his hand with a chuckle, “so I’ll…”

Bucky hears it before he sees it.

The tinny, metallic clatter.

It’s an IED, it’s a grenade.

His muscles react before he does.

His body pushes Rue out of the way, tumbles, and he lets his body hit the ground first, landing so he shields her head with his metal arm. His body is rigid, but his heart is wild as he waits for the explosion.

(He doesn’t even register that his hat’s gone flying or Rue’s matching heartbeat thudding against his chest, her breath panting against his face.)

The explosion never comes.

He chances a look over his shoulder to see… a hubcap, wobbling to a pathetic halt.

“Bucky.” He looks down at Rue. He watches her alert gaze soften. He feels her arm, pinned beneath him, worm its way up to cup his face. “Hey, we’re safe.”

“I…” He pushes away from her immediately, resting on his knees, “Sorry, I–”

(Panic is a tidal wave, freezing his thoughts and the words coming out of his mouth, and it crashes into embarrassment.

He’s drowning, he’s drowning.)

“Hey, James, it’s okay.” She’s on her knees now, too, studying him. He feels her hands on his thighs, pressing into them as she gets close to his face. “James, we’re safe, okay? Breathe with me.”

“Wow, you really saved her from that hubcap, dude,” a laughing voice says behind them. Bucky suddenly remembers they’re in the middle of the sidewalk, painfully aware of all the people pouring around them.

(And their staring eyes are crushing his chest.)

There’s a young guy, younger than Rue, younger than Bucky was when he’d been drafted. He’s wearing a baseball cap, so Bucky can only see the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Can you kindly fuck off, please?” Rue says with a saccharine tone, but her features are configured in a way Bucky has never seen before.

Mean and hateful.

(Even when she’d threatened that person in the restaurant, her face had been neutral, and he could tell her words had been measured and calm. This is something different.)

“Why, so you can coddle–” The guy turns his cap backwards, showing the realization filling his eyes. Bucky’s blood drains from his face. The guy’s phone is out and aimed at him in seconds. “You’re the fucking Winter Soldier.”

Rue’s on her feet before Bucky can react. “Stop recording us.”

(Bucky’s mind flashes back to the information the Toad gave him, Rue’s history of getting into fights, inebriated or not. He wonders if this streak of anger is making its appearance again, after many years.)

“Yeah right, bitch.” He scoffs, pushes her aside. She stumbles. To his phone, he narrates, “Who knew the Winter Soldier was such a pussy?”

Rue’s already in motion when Bucky gets to his feet.

She snatches at his phone, but the guy steps out of reach. “I said, stop recording us.”

He puts the camera on her face now. “Look at this, the Winter Soldier’s little whore–”

Rue gives him a hard shove, knocking him back into the crowd, and his phone flies out of his hand. Without hesitation, her heel slams into it. The sound of glass grinding beneath her boot is surprisingly loud in the busy night.

“What the fuck!”

He lunges at her. She’s already swinging, her rings glinting in the city lights, but Bucky grabs her waist. She catches Bucky off guard when she drops her weight and bounces back to deliver an open-palmed hit to the guy’s jaw.

She’s holding a knife now.

Bucky’s knife.

The guy must not have seen it because he’s going for a punch - but Bucky catches his fist. He bends the arm backwards, to a degree he knows feels like it’s breaking without the damage.

(Under different circumstances, if his brain hadn’t been rewired, Bucky’s very aware that, with all the adrenaline in his body, he would have killed this guy for less.)

A crowd is forming, and Rue is yelling, “It must be so exciting to livestream a street fight, but god forbid one of you helps a man being publicly ridiculed!”

(Someone yells, sarcastically, “Looks like it’s being handled!”

But Bucky’s more focused on this man’s elbow being on the precipice of shattering with one swift move, and the color bleeding from this kid’s face).

“Stand down,” Bucky says, an intentional growl, low enough for only him to hear. Finally seeing Bucky for the threat he is, the guy nods, a frantic bob, and Bucky releases him. “Get out of here. Now.”

“Bucky…”

He looks to Rue, who offers his cap, and finally scans the crowd of people. Now aware of the cameras, Bucky tries to obscure his face and gently pulls Rue away from the scene. She protests, mad he’s not standing up for himself, but he assures her it’s not worth it.

“James,” she hisses as he ushers them through an alley. She snatches her arm out of his grip, her face red. “That guy deserved every minute of that.”

“So?” His words have no heat. He doesn’t want to fight her. “I don’t need the public to see me as being… aggressive.”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes well with tears, but he sees they’re frustrated ones. “Sorry,” she repeats, “I’m just really disgusted by humanity right now.”

(He doesn’t know what to say to that. He is, too.)

They stand in the alley as wind howls through. He’s reminded of the first time they met, in an alley, but it was him in distress. He remembers her patience and her humor.

He rubs her arm for comfort, cautious to whether she even wants to be touched right now. As he lets his hand slip from her, her hand catches his and holds it tightly.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly. He purses his lips, thinking about it. “I mean, from the flashback or whatever that was. It must have been scary.”

“I thought it was an explosive,” he explains. She nods, like she knows. “I guess I still have some work to do.” He taps his temple. “This thing’s still has some loose wires.”

“You’re capable.”

(She smiles, and it catches in his chest like wildfire. The stark contrast of the tough Rue ready to fight and the soft Rue looking at him like this… it’s jarring.)

Then, he extends his other hand expectantly.

Rue’s face pinks when she realizes what he’s waiting for. Lifting a sheepish look up to his gaze, she places his knife back in his hand.

“What exactly were you going to do with this, hm?” he teases.

“I don’t know,” she gives a weak laugh, avoiding his eyes. “I just wanted to be prepared?”

“You were doing fine without it.”

He puts his arm around her and leads her back to the main sidewalk. Like a blessing, no one is paying attention.

////

When she drives him home, Rue announces she had brought some Christmas decorations to help make his apartment feel festive. She says she can’t stay to set them up tonight, but she’ll help him next week. She does, however, give him the task of setting up the fake Christmas tree by himself.

(Bucky sees the long case in the trunk of her car and frowns. Why would Rue have a sniper bag casually in her car? When he opens it, fake pine leaves tickle his hand, and he huffs a laugh at his ridiculous assumption.)

After carrying two suitcases full of decorations into his apartment, Bucky walks Rue back to her car.

“So, I’ll see you next week,” Rue says, hip leaning against her car. “Vick says she’s making eggnog for you.”

Bucky frowns, confused, saying, “She doesn’t even know me.”

“She knows about you. I–” She’s looking up at the inky sky, squinting against the streetlight pooling them in light. “Bucky… it’s snowing!”

(He knows. He sees the way the flakes fall on her dark hair like glitter. He sees the way her eyes glow with wonder. He sees the pure joy on her face.)

He has to clear his throat when he finally says, “You were right.”

When her eyes land on him, the moment is suddenly charged. There’s a buzz in his chest and in his head that mutes rationality. He imagines what bystanders might think, walking past, seeing their gazes tethered to one another, unwavering, covered in snow, hovering close.

(Would they make correct assumptions, of two friends teetering on the edge of something more…?)

Rue reaches up to brush some snow off his hair, his shoulder, and her hand stays there. He feels planted in place. She takes a step closer, nearly closing the gap between them, only her other hand resting on his chest stops her body from being pressed against his. A gust of wind blows through the street with a rush of snow, and with it, Rue tiptoes to press her mouth to his.

The kiss is… searching. Knowing. Warm and affectionate. He barely registers how her cold nose brushes against his cheek. He’s only aware of her hands, her lips, her tongue. He doesn’t move to hold her or to be closer. He just matches her kiss for what it is.

(But when she makes a small, pleased noise before pulling away, all he wants in those few seconds is to catch her in his arms, to hold her so impossibly close, to kiss her so deeply.)

“I…” Her eyes linger on his mouth as she wipes her bottom lip with a deliriously cute smile. Her nose is pink, and so are her lips. “I couldn’t waste a fresh snow kiss.”

“Okay, ‘Lorelai’,” he murmurs. He revels in the way her eyes light.

“What, is Gilmore Girls another one of your guilty pleasures?”

“No…” his laugh is low.

(The street seems so uncharacteristically quiet. He’s afraid of ruining the moment. He’s afraid of scaring her away.)

“But it is on around four in the morning.”

(She has to know, right? She has to know that she has, somehow, infiltrated all of the walls he’s built around himself. She has to know that the look she’s giving him right now, eyes lit with mirth, is piercing through his chest and seizing his heart. She has to be aware of it, at least… right?)

She laughs, and he feels her hand slipping from his chest, from his shoulder. She looks up at him, through her thick and snowy lashes, a quiet look passing over her face.

“I’ll see you next week?”

(Did I screw things up? Her tone asks.)

“I sure hope so.”

(Her smile is so bright and beaming, and he can’t look away.)

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEARS GUYS! I know the story is still before Christmas, but at least we got a kiss ;) Thanks so much for the support throughout 2023, I really appreciate all the love! Here's to finishing this fic in 2024 lol !

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4joonkookie · 3 years

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Crush

❈ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (x Yoongi)

❈ Words: 6.6K

❈ Summary: (Smutty) Boyfriend!Jungkook can sense you and Yoongi are horny for each other and let's you indulge.

(Angsty) After being quarantined together in domestic bliss for a few months, Jungkook asks you to stay for good.

(Smutty & Angsty) Jungkook asks you to move in permanently. You and Yoongi almost set the house on fire when Jungkook makes an offer you can't refuse.

❈ Warnings/Tags: Plot, There's Plot., Smut, Established Relationship, Angst, Morning Sex, Dirty Talk, Loud Sex, Thin Walls, Blurred Lines, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Face Sitting, Cumplay, Cum Spitting, Hair Pulling, Cum Eating, Doggy Style, Brief Ass-Licking, Arguing, Crying, Commitment Issues, Threesome, Female Character with Fuckboi Tendancies, JK has a lot of money, Quarantine, Writing is Hard, Cuckhold, Spitroast.

❈ Notes: -Can be read as Part 3 of the Mirror, Mirror Series or standalone:) -Takes place Summer 2020-ish.

You can feel his eyes on you before you even open yours.

Jungkook smiles next to you on the bed, head propped on his bent elbow. “I like this,” he says.

“Like what?” You yawn and stretch and coax yourself into staying awake.

“Everyday, when I wake up, you’re right here.” He brushes bed-head hair away from your face. “We should keep it like this.”

Rolling over on top of him, “You think so?”

“I know so,” he says, as you lean down to kiss him, morning breath and all. There was a time when neither of you would have ever allowed your mouths near each other before brushing.

It seems like some alternate universe now even though it was just 3 months ago. Drowning in work, living in hotel rooms and hoping you could sneak away for a weekend with your long-distance boyfriend, if your schedules would allow it.

Then the world came to a screeching halt. Your job had been cancelled indefinitely, you’ve hardly worn anything but hoodies and sweatpants for months and you’ve gone from a long-distance girlfriend to a live-in domestic partner.

You’d never thought you and Jungkook would end up this way. You integrated together effortlessly, as if it has always been this way. Any worries you had about meshing with the other members were unfounded too. You’ve never had friends so close. You’ve never had time for hobbies or doing things you actually like.

You never thought you would end up like this.

Straddling his hips, Jungkook rubs his hands on your naked skin. He slides his hardening cock between your unclad folds, still wet and open from the night before.

He continues thinking aloud. “You should stay here.” He pushes up, pressing his shaft on your clit. “We could start everyday like this.” He guides himself easily inside and you groan, still sensitive. “I’m serious. Don’t go back to work.” He slides in and out comfortably. “Stay here.”

“Jungkook, I can’t live here,” you scold, circling your hips a few times. You try to distract him and yourself, not telling him about the conversation with your work yesterday. You could be back as little as a week.

“But you do live here. He stops his motion and holds your hips still. “You just need to unpack your boxes.”

You’ve all but officially moved in yet your belongings remain in boxes. It would be easy to empty the boxes and put things in a permanent place. Also, equally as easy to tape the lids shut and ship them back to your old life.

You ignore his comment and brace your hands on the wall above the headboard, gaining traction to move your hips. He pulls your arms down and holds them to your sides.

“I've already talked to everyone.” Holding down harder, preventing you from moving.

“You did?” His words finally hold you still.

“Of course. They said it was silly I asked because you already live here. Everybody said they would love to keep having you here.”

He pulls you down to whisper: “Especially Yoongi.”

“Shut up.” You playfully slap his chest, embarrassed.

He is not wrong. You and Yoongi had become particularly close since being here. You have a lot of fun together, cooking, playing guitar, there’s a bit of tension there. It never goes beyond playful flirting but it’s been obvious for a while now. Jungkook is secure and is sure to openly poke fun at the both of you about it.

Jungkook laughs, moving his hips again. “You guys crush on each other so hard, it’s cute.” He continues whispering. “You know he can hear you?” He points to the wall above his head.

“No!” You whisper back in disbelief. Yoongi’s room is just on the other side of the wall.

“Yes, he told me. He can hear everything,” he still whispers but thrusts up into you harder, forcing a noise from you.

Jungkook is always one to tease but the way he keeps his voice at a whisper makes you know his words are true.

He continues his harsh thrusts as he whispers. “He’s probably still in bed right now, jerking his morning wood with his ear against the wall.”

“Jungkook, stop!” You continue to reprimand him but can’t prevent a grin at the idea.

“You love it.” He lifts your hips and drops you down hard. You try to stifle the moan it elicits. “You like the idea that he’s there right now with a good grip on himself, palming up and down to the sounds of your noisy moaning.”

“I am not noisy,” you defend yourself quietly.

“You are so noisy!”, he says loudly enough to travel through the walls.

The room finally quiets and Jungkook tries to keep his own breathing steady as your pelvises grind against each other. You close your eyes and let the fantasy swim in your mind. Yoongi, slipping his hand under the waistband of his pants, listening to you.

Jungkook continues to fuel the fantasy as your bodies set a rhythm. “He’s rubbing himself raw, wishing his spit and hand was as wet and slippery as this pretty pussy.”

Jungkook takes your prudish whimpers as a challenge and flips your body so you’re on all fours and places a grip around your hips that promises bruises. He sets a punishing, slapping pace. Probably echoing through the entire house, you bury your face in the pillows.

He pulls you up by your shoulders and holds you still as he pounds into you. “Come on baby, don’t you want him to get off?”

He continues his heavy pace and you surrender as the pressure builds at your core, cock slamming into your g spot, unable to stop the moans from escaping if you tried. Your legs shake when liquid begins to gush and drip down the inside of your thighs with every thrust.

Jungkook growls, happy with evidence of his skill and he comes to the sounds of your bodies slamming together.

You both collapse to the bed and catch your breath. You lay around just a little longer, taking each other in and reveling in your safe little world.

Eventually, you both roll out of bed, throw on clothes and head out into the kitchen.

“I would bet money Yoongi’s out there right now, in front of his laptop with a mug of coffee poured and ready for you.”

You roll your eyes and brush him off although you know he’s probably right. He stops you before you can turn the door handle.

“Hey.” He holds both your hands in his. “Think about it? Really? Before work tries to take you away from me again?”

You nod. “I love you.” There’s nothing truer and your job has done nothing for you other than keep you busy. Still, you try to prepare him and smooth it over.

“You know, if I go, it’ll only be like, half the time. We’ll still have way more time together than we did before, especially if you’re not touring,” you offer, persuading him.

He shakes his head. “No. I want you here. Not sometimes. All the time.” His gaze gets sad. “Unless that’s not what you want.”

You try to reassure him. “You know that’s not true.” He nods but you see the doubt in his eyes. “So is that an ultimatum? Stay here or nothing?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He wraps his arms around your waist.

“Then, what are you saying?” Wrapping arms around his neck.

He takes a deep breath in. “I’m saying… I know it’s not what we expected but I love this, it feels right. I don’t want to move backwards.”

“I’m scared, Jungkook.” It’s the only way to describe the doubt that lingers in your mind.

“I don't know why. But being scared is ok. Just please, please think about it. Before you make a decision.”

The words are stuck in your throat.

You can’t because it means it’s real. It’s not just circumstances, casual or reversible. It’s real.

“I love you.” He kisses both of your hands and follows behind you into the kitchen.

Yoongi sits at the kitchen island on his laptop, as Jungkook predicted. He pushes a mug of prepared coffee for without a word, a morning ritual.

Jungkook gives you a knowing look while Yoongi continues work on his computer.

“Thank You.” You take a seat around the island.

Standing next to you, Jungkook mockingly asks Yoongi: “Will you pour me a cup of coffee, hyung?”

Yoongi senses his jest, stands and turns to retrieve a carton of banana milk from the fridge. He pours it into a coffee mug and slides it to Jungkook over the counter. You do your best not to laugh.

Jungkook smirks, checked by his elder. He sips from the mug, his eyes moving from you and back to Yoongi. Yoongi catches his glance. He knows. He feels it. It feels like a million things are being said in silence. Yoongi picks up his own coffee mug to refill it from the pot, a chance to turn his back to Jungkook.

The tension makes you wonder if they’ve ever spoken about the “crush” before. Or, worse, this morning. You know the walls are thin so, sure, he can hear you. But you wonder if Jungkook exaggerated the rest to get you off. Is that why it’s awkward?

“Jungkook, please get the pork belly from the freezer.” Yoongi directs Jungkook with his back still turned, a silent directive to drop it.

‘Is this for the recipe you’re trying today?” Jungkook finally lets up and changes the subject, heading to the freezer.

“Yeah, a little later.” He closes his laptop and stands. “I have a meeting. Are you heading to the studio?”

“Yep. Back soon.” Jungkook kisses you on the cheek and they both head separate ways.

You finish a cup of coffee and lounge around alone for a few hours, the house quiet with everybody doing their own thing in the large house. You read a few chapters from a book recommended by Namjoon and manage to take a short nap.

You imagine this is what it would be like if you stayed here. The empty house is peaceful. At least, for a few hours. It’s no trouble being alone and keeping busy but you know it’ll be more like being in hiding.

Management has always viewed you as a threat and distraction to all the members. There was not much they could do about you staying the last few months. Jungkook has some leverage now and they have to work around his wishes. As the relationship progresses, the way they already minimize and diminish you will get worse. How far can it even go when it has to be a secret? Staying here means a life of full gag order and anonymity.

You attempt to distract yourself from generating a long list of reasons to decline Jungkook’s proposal by strumming a few chords on the guitar.

When Yoongi re-emerges to the common area, you acknowledge him but continue playing.

“You’re getting pretty good at that thing.” He sits next to you on the couch.

“Thanks.” You lay the guitar beside you as this better distraction presents itself.

“May I?” He holds his hands out to receive the guitar.

You pass it over and you watch and listen as he strums much more pleasantly and skillfully. Bare-faced, messy hair and wearing clothes just to lounge around in but he looks good.

“So.” He starts as he strums between chords. “Are you unpacking your boxes or will you live out of them forever?” He asks as casually as possible.

“How do you know?” You question, nearly holding your breath.

“Walls are pretty thin,” he says, even and casual, still strumming softly.

You try to contain the redness coming over your chest and face, all of the things he may have heard this morning, circling in your mind.

You shamefully try to come up with something quick. “I’m still figuring out the details with work.” You nod unconvincingly.

“Yeah?” He says, surprised. “Jungkook is really excited about it.”

“I mean, management will throw a fit but-“ he shrugs his shoulders. We’ll back you up. They have to get through all seven of us before they can get to you. ”

You feel a pang of guilt hit your gut.

He changes the subject, sensing he’s hit a nerve. “Anyway...”

You blurt the first thing to come to mind. “So, you can hear through the walls?”

“I hear enough,” placing the guitar at his side, He looks down and stifles a giggle.

You nervously bite down on your lip. “Jungkook says I'm loud.”

He nods and runs his hand over the back of his neck. “That’s true.”

You both take a moment to snickers before you apologize. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, sounding genuine.

“What else did you hear this morning?” You ask, curious.

“Not much.” He leans back on the couch with his legs spread. You try to ignore how inviting his lap looks. “Just you being loud. He offers a teasing smile. “And some things about unpacking your boxes and…,” he trails off. “How you have a crush on me,” he finishes, nonchalantly.

You give him a playful shove and he raises both arms to block, laughing.

You wonder what else he heard. You can see the details he’s left out in his face, trying to be safe with this boundary.

“Is that what I heard?” His voice lowers as he tries to confirm.

“Yes,” you respond. “But that’s not why I spend time with you. I just like doing those things with you, being around you.”

A smile washes over his face. “I enjoy doing those things with you too. They’re just sometimes more fun because I have a crush on you too.”

You don’t respond but look down as the mood changes. His eyes lay on you differently. He has a different kind of confidence about him hearing you say it. You do too, knowing you’ve both said it out loud and Jungkook said it before anyone else.

The tension sits too heavy in the air but you let curiosity get the best of you anyway.

“When did you get off last?” You ask with a stern eye on him.

He laughs, deflecting. “Oh, is this what crushes talk about?”

You keep your gaze steady, awaiting an answer.

He lets out a defeated sigh. “Jungkook told you. How embarrassing.”

“So, this morning?” you immediately probe, unable to help yourself.

“And last night,” he contributes, shifting in his seat.

It’s a relief Jungkook had the wherewithal to whisper all that filth this morning. Also, that nothing was a secret. Jungkook is so great in that way. Acknowledging what is without being threatened and getting his ego bruised.

“So, obviously, I don’t mind that you’re loud.” His smile fades a bit and his gaze gets dark. “It’s sexy.”

Your stomach sinks. There are so many questions you want to ask but you don’t. How long? How often? What do you think about? Who do you think about?

He continues. “You like knowing that.” It starts as a question and ends as a statement. His eyes scan your face and you observe his own restraint.

It’s getting too deep. You should stop before this conversation escalates any further. The house feels too empty and too many ideas race in your mind. He takes the action before you.

“Are you ready to cook?” He asks, nearly leaping off the couch.

You both head to the kitchen and the tension settles as you get caught up in conversation about nothing-too-serious. Yoongi perfects a sauce while you load rice into a steamer. He tastes the sauce with his thumb and has a bland, questioning reaction.

“Is it good?” You try to read his face.

“I don’t know, try it.” He adds some spices and whisks further, lifting to check the consistency. You watch one strong arm whisk the mixture while the other holds the bowl still. His lips are pursed, concentrated. The sight of his arms and lips start to make your body hot.

You’ve seen him hundreds of times in the past 3 years. You’ve seen him everyday for 3 months. Still, It’s like looking at him for the first time.

This is all Jungkook’s fault. He put the idea in your mind.

Really, he activated something that was always there. You don’t know how he does it. He’s good like that too, excavating every emotion you have, never letting one be covered up or denied. You’d never realized how often you’d done that. He’s made you better, even before living together.

Nevertheless, your now crush is evolving to an ache, a craving right in front of your eyes. Yoongi is unaffected, focused on perfecting his cuisine. He’s messy, stray sauce everywhere.

He approaches where you stand by the counter, bowl in hand and you can smell him. It nearly knocks you off your feet when it fills your nostrils. Stray sauce is streaked on his forearm. You grab a nearby kitchen towel to swipe at his arm when he gets close, keeping your hands busy. They have too many ideas.

Maybe laying your hands on him (regardless of what they were doing) transfers your horny energy but your hands linger on him now and the dynamic shifts. He has that look again, lips parted, a million dirty thoughts flash across his mind in seconds. A big metal bowl is the only thing separating your bodies.

His eyes dart down from yours, guiding your own eyes to his lips, intrigued. He takes a deep breath and leans in closer, nearly hovering over you. He uses his thumb to briefly flick across your bottom lip. All the indecency in his eyes directed at your mouth. He places the bowl on the counter next to him, closing space between you.

“Try it.” He reaches down beside him and coats his thumb in the liquid. He slides the palm side of his thumb between your lips. You let them graze over but resist the urge to wrap your mouth around him.

You run your tongue over your lips to taste. “It’s good,” hardly audible.

The slight gesture causes the intensity to surge so greatly that you both seem to repel from each other. Yoongi returns to the other side of the kitchen and you both continue your tasks in silence, adrenaline still rushing, making it impossible to have a conversation.

Right on cue, Jungkook enters the silent heavy room.

“Hey.” you both say in unison, not even looking up at him.

“Hey.” He says, already sensing the put-on tones and not buying it for a single second.

“What have you been up to today?” He pecks your lips but keeps his eyes on Yoongi.

“I took a nap,” you offer, weakly. He nods suspiciously. Yoongi still has his back to him.

“How’s your recipe coming?” he asks, shooting daggers into the back of Yoongi’s head.

“Sauce is done,” you say, wishing Yoongi would speak for himself.

“Ok, What’s going on?” Jungkook finally demands.

You and Yoongi answer in unison. “Nothing,” sounding rehearsed.

“No, it's something.” His expression becomes uncharacteristically worried. “I know you’re flirting but right now, I feel like I'm interrupting something. I don’t like that.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Yoongi cracks and turns around. “You’re right, it’s inappropriate.”

He raises his eyebrows, intrigued. “What’s inappropriate?” he digs.

Yoongi darts his eyes to you, mouth open but not speaking.

“What happened?” Jungkook’s voice gets louder.

You break next. “I ate sauce off his hand.” It comes out fast like one long word.

“Like, how?” looking puzzled.

“Like, off his thumb.” You extend your own thumb as if he doesn’t know what one is.

“When?”

“5 minutes ago.”

He slowly nods in comprehension. “So, you sucked on his finger. Then what?”

You fight the urge to correct him as you put such deliberate effort in NOT sucking. “Then, here we are.” You nervously tap your fingers on the countertop.

Jungkook is silent for a long time.

“Show me,” he announces.

“What?” Yoongi finally speaks again.

“Sounds harmless enough. Let me see.”

Yoongi pleads. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do this, it won’t happen again.”

“I'd feel better if I could see how ‘inappropriate’ it was.” Jungkook glares at Yoongi, wrestling to decide if he’s betrayed him or not.

There’s no getting out of it. You and Yoongi drag your feet to re-create your positions and he dips his thumb into the bowl just as before. You repeat the gesture, locking eyes with him for just a moment before his thumb touches your lips again.

Jungkook guffaws at the sight. “Did she do it like that?”.

“Yeah.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders.

Jungkook redirects his gaze at you. “You? Did it like that?”

You narrow your eyes at Jungkook. “Yes.”

You can’t tell if you should be offended or honored by his shock at your weak cleaning of his thumb. You opt to keep quiet.

Yoongi looks thoroughly confused. Jungkook chortles and approaches you both by the bowl.

“She can do better than that.” He pulls Yoongi's wrist into the bowl, isolating his index finger. He coats Yoongi’s finger and pushes it against your lips.

You take his finger and instinctively pull him in, down to the webbing of his hand. Jungkook lets his wrist free and Yoongi takes the liberty to push in again with 2 fingers and you suck them in and let them fall out slowly. His throat lets out a low groan through parted lips.

“That’s better,” Jungkook croons.

Jungkook guides you a few steps away to the living room so only you can hear. “Is there anything else I need to know about?” He asks with a forbidding look.

You reassure him with a hand on his chest. “No, Jungkook.” He nods and kisses your lips.

“Do you want to do this?”

You’re not sure what “this” is but the way he strokes his fingers along your crotch gives you an idea.

“We’re going to talk for a few minutes,” he starts, quickly glancing at Yoongi. “Get in the bedroom.” He tugs back at your hair with force, making you gasp. “When we get in there, I want you in one of your slutty outfits, waiting on the bed.” He kisses you hard and sloppy on the mouth before releasing his grip. Yoongi's eyes are nearly bulging out of his face.

You head to the bedroom as calmly as possible. When the door closes behind you, you begin a frenzy, digging through boxes for any matching pieces of lingerie. You manage to find a set, freshen up and wait on the bed. It’s been almost a half hour, you wonder what they’re talking about.

Yoongi follows behind Jungkook and closes the door. “There she is.” Yoongi looks a little nervous. The 2 stand in front of the bed.

“Lips stay below the neck, no kissing on the lips,” Jungkook announces. You and Yoongi nod at each other, his boner appearing through his pants at the sight of you. “Can he cum on your chest?”

Yoongi glances down shyly at the question. You nod again, heart pounding.

“Anything else?” directed at you now. You shake your head, still unable to form words. Jungkook leans down where you sit on the bed to kiss you. “Relax,” he whispers before his lips peck yours.

Jungkook’s easy breakdown of “rules” and the fact they’d talked so much about this already gives you an inkling about their past.

You speak so only Jungkook can hear. “Something tells me this isn’t your first time.” You glance back at Yoongi.

“Smart girl.” He kisses you again. “But this is different. We’re not sharing. He turns you on and I like it when you’re turned on. So. Relax. I wanna turn you on and get you off.”

Jungkook removes his clothes before crawling behind you on the bed and runs his hands over your body, groping in front of Yoongi as he watches, standing by the bed.

“Look how pretty you are for us.” He pulls you head back for a kiss and slides his hand under the hem of your panties, letting a finger slip between your folds. Your knees buckle.

“Mmm, She’s so wet for you already, hyung.” He pushes the fabric away and slips fingers in and out of your wet opening. Yoongi instinctively rubs himself on the outside of his pants, watching as Jungkook pulls his hand away and brings his fingers to your mouth. You don’t let our eyes leave his before directing Yoongi.

“Come here.” You scoot to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook sits behind you, rubbing your back as Yoongi approaches.

Yoongi’s eyes roll back immediately when you grasp at the bulge through his sweatpants and stroke beneath the fabric. He takes off his shirt while you pull down at the waistband of his pants and watch his cock fall free. Pale shaft with a swollen pink tip. Perfectly placed veins, just like his arms. You wrap your lips around the tip and let saliva drip down his shaft. He places an encouraging palm on the back of your head as you slide your lips to the base and gag, bringing moans from Yoongi. You wrap your hand around his shaft and work it with your mouth.

“Wait.” Jungkook places a hand on your shoulder. The sight has him eager for a place to keep his dick wet while you service Yoongi. He guides you to bend in front of him. Pushing panties aside, Jungkook slides in with ease, arousal pooled at your opening. You continue on Yoongi, running your tongue on the underside of his balls and licking up to the tip. Jungkook gropes at your ass and thrusts softly, careful not to disturb Yoongi. Then sensation causes you to moan around his cock and Yoongi eggs your head off, breathing away an orgasm.

Jungkook takes this opportunity to fuck you at a normal pace. After some time, Yoongi palms himself, watching. You relish in being a fantasy come to life.

You’re sore, being railed by Jungkook this morning and the night before. But that doesn’t stop you or him. He unhooks your bra and lets it fall to the bed. He pulls you up so your body is flush in front of him and exposed to Yoongi, who increases the pace he has on himself.

Jungkook pulls out while still holding you close. Yoongi slows and closes his eyes, teetering on the edge again.

The wet sticky panties cling to you.

“Your panties are ruined baby.” Sucking kisses on the line of your neck while the cold panties cling to you. “Lay down so we can get them off.”

Jungkook guides you to your back as Yoongi stands at the side of the bed, pulling you to the edge so you’re spread in front of him. Your head lays in Jungkook’s lap, he still faces Yoongi.

Yoongi palms at your center, feeling the crevices over wet fabric. It’s sticky and uncomfortable and you just want them gone. Jungkook strokes your head in his lap. Yoongi holds his cock between your clothed folds, watching your face as you twitch around him. He pushes the tip at the opening, blocked by the fabric.

He continues letting his tip run up and down until he eventually grips at the crotch of the fabric and pulls it up and taut against your clit. He rhythmically lifts and releases, your pelvis rising a little bit with each pull. He continues faster and you’re now grateful for the sticky fabric that offers friction until he stops and let’s it slap back to your skin, just before you come. He’s edging you with your own underwear.

He finally pulls them down and around your ankles, playfully tossing them at Jungkook sitting behind you. He slithers his tip around your bare entrance, teasing your opening and sliding up. Squelching fills the air.

You’re eager to get him all the way inside, pushing your core down each time he’s at your opening. You whine when he pulls his cock away completely and moves to kiss at your bare breasts. He lets his teeth graze over your skin, sucking. Jungkook uses his foot to push at Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Don’t mark her,” he warns. Yoongi heeds his warning and opts to leave the area completely. He lines himself up and bottoms out inside, wetting his entire shaft with you.

You moan louder and Jungkook tugs at your nipples. Yoongi bottoms out with each thrust.

“Are you gonna come just like this, Noona?” Yoongi teases, between thrusts as if you weren’t being turned on and teased for the last hour.

“I’d rather come on your lips,” letting your finger flick across his mouth.”

A little shock flashes across his face before Jungkook laughs. “Mmm, I love a good slut that asks for what she wants.” He praises as he strokes your hair.

Jungkook makes room for Yoongi to lay back on the bed again.

“I like this “crush” thing,” Yoongi says as you hover over top of him and he attaches his lips to you straight away. His arms are hooked around your thighs as he sucks and flicks his tongue over your swollen clit. He lets out deep little moans underneath you, happy to have you squirming and whimpering above him. You rock your hips back and forth on his face and the vibrations from his voice bring you so close again.

Jungkook lines up flush behind you. “I told him how good you taste, baby. And I know he loves hearing your pretty voice.” He slips his fingers under your bum to push fingers into your opening. Yoongi moves his mouth up just slightly to make room for him and you still. He continues, “Come for us, baby,” kissing your neck.

Yoongi squeezes at your breasts and He holds you down tight on his face when you come.

You’re shuddering above him still when he instructs you to bend over, guiding you off of him. Jungkook moves to sit at the opposite end of the bed.

You present yourself to him and instantly fall to your elbows when he licks a long strip from your opening all the way up to your tailbone. Jungkook giggles at your reaction.

“Do it again.” Jungkook orders. Yoongi does, and you’re so sensitive that your thighs shake. He moves to your opening and laps at this new angle, insatiable. Just as you begin to lose yourself on his tongue again, he lines up behind you and slams you on his cock. He fills you in a different way, hands on your hips as he slides your body over himself again and again.

Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment before positioning himself so he can gag you on his cock while Yoongi thrusts mercilessly, both taking everything they want from you.

Jungkook pulls your hair back to see your face. “Such a good slut, stuffed full at both ends.”

Yoongi grunts at the words. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” You’re suddenly empty as they fumble to change positions. Jungkook instructs you to turn over and sit up on the edge of the bed.

Yoongi stands in front of you and ribbons white on your chest, grunting through his orgasm.

Jungkook pushes your back to the bed and runs his flat tongue over your messied chest, collecting cum in his mouth. He grips your jaw from above you, signaling to open and you readily obey. He purses his lips and lets the liquid fall into your mouth, laps up more and repeats all while strokes himself.

When your chest is clean, He climbs over you so his thighs straddle your face.

“Mmmmm… show him who my sweet cumslut is.” He praises before he throws his head back and groans, stroking himself into your open mouth.

You hold your mouth open while he spills into you, swallowing and licking your lips. You hold out your clean tongue and he spits from high up once more for good measure. Yoongi sits in your peripheral vision on a nearby chair. Spent cock resting between his legs, hands laced behind his head, taking in the sight.

“Good Girl,” Jungkook whispers.

The three of you sit up straight when you hear the screaming.

“Yoongiiii!!” Seokjin’s voice wails through the thin walls.

Yoongi puts on pants and nearly flies to the kitchen. You and Jungkook quickly dress and follow behind.

You walk into Seokjin scolding Yoongi about a pot boiling over and scorching on the stove.

“You could’ve set the house on fire!”

“I… I’m sorry I got distracted.”

“Doing what?!.” Seokjin’s fury fades when he notices Yoongi is shirtless and the 3 of you have triple fucked-out looks.

“You know what? I don’t want to know,” he announces, as he scrubs the burner.

Yoongi and Seokjin finish cooking and everyone sits for the meal. You’ve done this many times now, sitting around a table talking for hours. Sometimes everyone is up all night and you reluctantly agree to go to sleep. Other times, members slowly trickle away and wake up to the same remaining people talking. Oftentimes, it was you and Yoongi.

The plates are nearly clear when Taehyung declares: “Noona, I emptied our part of the closet downstairs so you have room for your things.

You glare at Jungkook.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t tell him to do that,” taking a final bite. Taehyung assumed.

“Actually, I’m going back to work,” blurting out, threatened by Taehyung’s (and everyone’s) assumption. “But, thank you.”

“You are?” Jungkook looks only half surprised.

“Yeah. I fly out to San Francisco next Thursday.”

Jungkook stands from the table and calmly walks to the bedroom. You politely excuse yourself and follow him. He’s not even looking at you yet but starts off before the door even shuts.

“So when I left this morning, you were thinking about it. You fuck my friend. Now, you’re leaving next week.”

You close your eyes and scoff. You can just imagine the six others just outside the door, darting eyes at each other, wondering which “friend”. It’s an unfair and irrelevant comment but you choose to ignore it, he has his own share of “unfair”.

“Jungkook, lower your voice.”

Ignoring you, “Did you even think about it?”

Blood heats under your skin. “Why think about it when everyone has just assumed? It’s like everyone gets a say but me.”

“And what’s your ‘say’?”

You pause before speaking, trying to calm yourself. “We both knew this arrangement was temporary. The way it was before was working for us.”

“It won’t work for me, not anymore.” “And this is not just an ‘arrangement’ anymore, you know that.”

“You know management does NOT want me around.”

“I don’t give a fuck WHAT they want. I’ve made it very clear that you’re not going anywhere. At least if it’s up to me.”

Your attempts to soothe yourself and convince Jungkook are failing. “So, what? I just hide out here, some house gremlin while you’re gone for weeks, months at a time? Having to be your dirty little secret? We can’t even be together in public.”

He glances down and gets closer to you. “That will be hard. I’m sorry. I wish I could change that.” His voice gets lower. “But when I’m gone…I mean, you’ve been cooking and writing and playing the guitar and you love that. You could do that. Or not. You could do whatever you want.” He stands firm. “If one of us is not bound by work, we’re officially together twice as much. Next?” He trudges forward, seeking to eliminate all of your ideas.

“I would have to move to a different country.”

“What about it? Tell me, where do you consider ‘home?’ and wherever you think that is, tell me why you chose to come here when you had to choose a place to be 3 months ago? The apartment is yours too. You could be here or there, whatever you want. What else can you come up with?”

You get sucked into his attempt to exhaust your excuses. “They offered me a raise to come back.” It sounds stupid coming out about half way through.

“Money?”, he laughs erratically, sounding unstable now. He pulls a billfold from his pants pocket and begins launching credit cards and different types of cash on the bed. “Here. Here. Here. And there’s more where that came from.”

“Ok, Jungkook,” you turn, agitated. He circles the bed to get face-to-face again.

“I’m just saying you have no excuse!” His voice gets somber and tears well in his eyes. The pain on his face makes you do the same. “So, why not then? Just tell me why. Because, when you’re here, the way you look at me, I know you feel the way I do. So why don’t you want to?”

You shake your head. “It’s not that I don’t want Jungkook. You just don’t know how things will turn out.”

He’s gripping your arms, trying to get his sense into you. “There is nothing that I'm worried about as long as you’re here. No matter what, it’s going to be fine.”

You coldly shake him off. “How do you know?!” You're yelling and crying now, really wanting to know where he gets his faith.

“I don’t know how anything will turn out, I just know that I want you there anyway!”

His face drops with realization.

His voice gets very quiet. “I guess that’s the difference between us.”

You’re too drained to argue that point. Maybe he’s right.

You make a final plea. “Please,” as you hiccup through sobs. “Can you just give me time to think about it? Instead of deciding for me?”

He pushes his forehead to yours. “I'm sorry I pressured you. I love you. It’s better when you’re here.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “There is no ultimatum here.” His forehead wrinkles. “Sometimes, I think if it’s something you really wanted, you wouldn’t have to think about it. But if time is what you want, take it.

“Thank you.” You hold onto each other like you might just slip away. Your sudden comfort is quickly snatched when he finishes.

“But if you’re not staying, you should go now.”

He squeezes you tight and whispers. “I love you.” Before you can reciprocate, he leaves and disappears into another part of the house. You haphazardly pack a bag and exit the bedroom, wiping tears from your face.

Yoongi approaches you as you head for the door, Seokjin following just behind. The others have gone after Jungkook.

“Noona, I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

You try to reassure him right away, hugging him. “Hey...it’s not you. This…” You search for the words to describe the situation, no fault on Yoongi. “This has been a long time coming.”

“Why are you leaving so soon?”

“It hurts Jungkook that I'm here so I need to go.” It sounds silly coming out of your mouth. If you just stayed, he wouldn’t be hurt. And neither would you.

“Do you need a car?” Seokjin asks. You nod he is on the phone right away.

You continue with Yoongi, “Could you send my boxes? I’ll have an address in a few days.”

“Of course.” He hugs you again. “Why do I feel like I’m never going to see you again?”

You don’t tell him that it feels that way to you too. “Would you just make sure he’s ok, please?”

He nods and with that you leave, severing ties with that safe little world.

830 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

The Best Of Us

Batfamily x M!Reader

Word Count: 3,035 Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: And here we are with a Batbrother fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t an inferiority complex. Not really. He wasn’t prone to anger or any of the other symptoms listed under it—and he checked. Multiple times. But there was something about being the only non-vigilante in his family of vigilantes that made him feel inadequate compared to the rest. Bruce had the Justice League, Dick and Jason had their own fantastic groups that saved the day, and Tim and Damian were still in school, but even they had their groups too. Hell, even Alfred still had contacts from his days in MI-5. And yet, he had none of the skills his brothers or father had, no extensive martial arts training, master detective skills, or weapon mastery. He was completely normal—or maybe abnormal in this case. And on some level, he resented that he couldn’t be like his family—maybe he did have an inferiority complex.

***

The greatest thing in (Y/N)’s mind about still being allowed to live at home was that no matter what, there was always food around to eat—Alfred saw to it that every growing man in the house had enough to eat—that being said, their grocery bills were outrageouslyexpensive.

He balanced his tablet in one hand, the other hand adjusting the tie around his neck as he stepped into the kitchen, quick to raise the tablet in time to avoid whacking his youngest brother in the head.

“Morning,” he greeted, taking his seat at the table, just after Jason’s. A chorus of tired, ‘mornings’ came back at him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Wow, loving the enthusiasm this morning, guys.”

Jason snorted and propped his chin on his palm, watching (Y/N) for a moment. “I seriously don’t understand how you’re always so chipper in the morning.”

He huffed a laugh and took a sip of the coffee that Alfred set down. “Someone has to be the ray of sunshine in this group of gray clouds.” (Y/N) cast a glance at Dick who was shoveling eggs into his mouth. “And it seems like our eldest is busy feeding his bottomless pit.” Dick was fast to shoot him a glare, that he returned with a smile.

Just then, Tim trudged into the kitchen in an oversized hoodie and plopped down in his seat, immediately shoving the plate in front of him to drop his head onto the table.

“Jesus Christ, you guys,” (Y/N) sighed, flicking at his tablet for a moment. “You’ve seriously gotta take a day off to recuperate.”

“What do you think we do during the day?” Dick retorted, taking a swig of milk.

“Okay I think you’re confusing the entire day with the first half,” he reasoned. “When I say take a day off, I mean the whole twenty-four hours.” He glanced at everyone, and the only person who seemed to not be tired was Alfred, and that’s partly because (Y/N) believed he was immortal. “You guys are gonna run yourselves into the ground,” he said. “I just don’t think—”

“We know what we are doing, (Y/N),” Damian interrupted with a glare. “We know our limits better than you do.”

He let out a sigh and shook his head. This conversation had happened many times before and it wasn’t anything new.

“I’m not saying I know them better than you Damian, I’m simply saying that you guys should take a day to relax so that something doesn’t happen on the job that you can’t control.”

(Y/N) glanced at his father. “Dad, c’mon, you know I’ve got a point.”

Bruce hummed and flipped the page of the newspaper. “So does Damian.” He met (Y/N)’s eyes and nodded. “You don’t have to worry so much, (Y/N). We know what we can handle.”

He stared at Bruce for a moment then scowled. “I don’t even know why I bother,” he muttered, and Damian was fast to chase his comment.

“I don’t know why you bother either. You’ve never once experienced what we do every night.”

(Y/N) met his youngest sibling’s glare. “Just because I don’t stick my neck out for each person in this city night after night doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it’s like to be exhausted.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you know what it’s like to be exhausted from blood loss because you’ve been stabbed or shot? Or to be exhausted from saving the lives of innocent people? You do?”

“I—” (Y/N)’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut and looked away with a darkened expression, tasting something sour in his mouth. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Damian finalized, and in the wake of the uncomfortable tension, a cellphone went off.

Everyone started looking for theirs, but (Y/N) muttered, “It’s mine.”

He picked it up and put on a cheerful voice. “Good morning Angela…yes, I just got the floor plan…” he tapped at the screen on his tablet. “Do me a favor and move the people from table eight to table three. Mr. Robinson is better friends with Mrs. Grace and will certainly give us a warmer atmosphere in that area.”

(Y/N) paused and listened, then he stood from the table and pushed his chair in. “Let me get to the office and we can situate the rest of the guests for tonight…alright, see you soon. Bye.”

He pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call, then took the black backpack that Alfred was holding to him. “Thanks Alfred.”

“Of course, Master (Y/N). Have a pleasant day at work.”

He huffed a laugh, but it was anything but amused. “I have to give a speech tonight in front of the entire company and three different magazines.” He glanced at Bruce. “Think you’ll be able to attend tonight? It’d mean a lot to me.” Bruce grunted, his way of telling (Y/N) that he’d try, but to not hope for a miracle.

It was fine, he was used to parentless ceremonies and events. He cleared his throat and shrugged on the backpack, making his way to the garage door.

“See you guys later.”

***

He’d given a few speeches in his short twenty-four years, and while he’d never say he was an expert on public speaking, he did know his way around a podium. That being said, every time he had to do a speech, he felt like vomiting—nerves he chocked it up to.

(Y/N) cast a glance around the packed ballroom, quietly groaning at the massive amount of people. His own table was empty, save for Angela and thank god for him, Lucius. He couldn’t help but frown at the name tags sitting in front of the empty seats.

“Wondering where the rest of the gang is?”

He met Lucius’ eyes and gave a halfhearted smile. “I’d like to think they took my advice and took the night off but…something tells me that the night called to them.” His lips pulled downwards. “I’m not going to act like this is a surprise, Lucius. I couldn’t even get them to show up for my university graduation.”

(Y/N) smiled and stood up, grabbing the notecards beside him. “What makes you think I could get them to show up to this?” He left the table and moved to the side of the stage, waiting for his name to be called. His fingers briefly shifted to his chest, feeling his heart fluttering beneath chest, nerves causing his breathing to come in short bursts. (Y/N) shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting a pleasant smile cross his face as the presenter called his name, and walked up the steps.

The bright flash of photography momentarily blinded him, but he smiled through it. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight at the Centennial Inside Alliance Award Ceremony.” He flashed everyone a million-watt smile. “My name is (Y/N) Wayne, and as many of you know, I am a senior editor for Inside Alliance. It is my pleasure tonight to recognize Inside Alliance’s top writer for the year.”

(Y/N) glanced around the room, making sure to catch the eyes of the hundreds of guests.

“Inside Alliance was created on August fourteenth, nineteen-twenty by a group of immigrant mothers and fathers who wanted to bring knowledge of their homes and cultures to the rest of world. Some of those countries being Germany, Romania, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Israel, and many, many others.”

“The production of their valuable time and extensive care created one of the greatest magazines that is still in business today, that brings attention to the worldwide issues that many groups face, while still connecting to their roots of educating the public on cultures and groups.”

He smiled. “It is with my upmost honor that I congratulate and introduce Miss Flora Janaliyeva, one of our newest and greatest writers that has joined Inside Alliance, and the winner of tonight’s Inside Alliance Award.”

(Y/N) turned to the side and grinned at Flora as she ascended the stairs. Her long black hair was braided down the length of her back and she wore a bright and floral-patterned gown. She reached (Y/N) and he reached with his right, shaking her hand, and handed her the glass award with the other.

“Miss Janaliyeva, it is with honor and congratulations that I give you this award for your excellent talent and recognition of ability from Inside Alliance.”

She smiled brightly and accepted the award. “Thank you, Mister Wayne, the honor is mine.” He nodded politely once more and descended the stairs as she began her speech, quietly taking his place back at the table.

“Well done, Mister Wayne,” Lucius smiled and (Y/N) let out a deep breath.

“I’m just surprised I was able to do that without stuttering or panicking.” He glanced over, smile lowering slightly. “Lucius, are you alright?”

The older man dabbed at his forehead and nodded, though when he breathed, it sounded labored. “I’m fine,” he assured, then reached up to rub at his chest.

(Y/N) shifted. “I don’t think you’re alright Lucius.” He leaned over. “Are you having chest pain?”

“I—yes,” he grit out then met (Y/N)’s gaze. “My chest is getting—tight and I…and I—”

He started to slump over and (Y/N) shot to his feet, eyes widening with fear. “Lucius!” The yell startled the crowd and Flora, who all looked over at the two.

(Y/N) pulled the older man back and pressed his ear to his chest, listening. He pulled away and yelled, “Someone call an ambulance! I think he’s having a heart attack!”

He helped Lucius to the floor and immediately pressed his palms to the man’s chest, starting compressions. His breath came in panicked spurts and he kept looking at Lucius’ face.

“Just hand on Lucius. You’re going to be okay.” (Y/N) kept at it until the EMT’s arrived and they knelt beside them.

“Let us take over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, too afraid that if he did, Lucius would die, but one of the EMT’s placed a hand on his shoulder while the other slide their hands underneath (Y/N)’s.

“Son, we’ll take it from here.”

(Y/N)’s arms went slack, and he let the medic pull him away, watching as they took over and started moving him onto the stretcher.

“Please, save him. He’s—he’s friends with my family I—”

The medic nodded firmly. “We’ll do all we can.”

And all (Y/N) remembered was someone ushering him into a taxi heading for the hospital.

***

The first people that arrived were Lucius’ family who were grateful for (Y/N)’s actions, but the young man could barely grimace as they disappeared into the hospital room, leaving him sitting outside, his head in his hands. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought back to what the ER doctor told him.

***

“Mister Fox is in a stable condition, but you have to understand, Mister Wayne, his heart is very weak.”

“But—but he’ll be okay right?”

“Based on Mister Fox’s past conditions, he’s verging into heart failure. His heart is too weak to keep up with what the body needs.”

“And…and what does his body need at this point?”

“At this point? A new heart.”

***

He sucked in a breath and fought to keep the sob from escaping his throat, just as heard, “(Y/N)!”

His head shot up and he saw his father and older brothers coming down the hallway. (Y/N) clambered to his feet.

“Dad I—” he started, but cut off as he choked on a sob, and Bruce pulled him into a hug, holding (Y/N) as he sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I tried my best but—”

“Shh,” Bruce hushed, a firm, but gentle hand coming to rest at the back of his son’s neck. “You did all that you could.”

He pulled back and wiped his face. “But Lucius needs a new heart, and I don’t know what to do. I should’ve seen this coming. He hasn’t been feeling well the past few weeks and I—”

“(Y/N),” his father said firmly, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He met Bruce’s eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”

His libs wobbled and he whispered, “But if I were like you guys, I would’ve seen something earlier. I didn’t and now…” sighing, he added, “and now Lucius needs a new heart, or he’ll die.”

Bruce’s sigh was heavier than (Y/N)’s and it made his chest heavy. “We’ll get Lucius a new heart, (Y/N).”

He lowered his head and lamented, “I’m sorry, dad.”

His father squeezed his shoulder then lead him towards Dick and Jason. “Take (Y/N) back home for the night. I’ll stay here with Lucius’ family.”

They nodded and led their brother down the hall, arms firm across his shoulders in a comforting way. They didn’t say anything, knowing that there wasn’t much to offer, but their support was enough for (Y/N), even if he felt horrible.

***

For being the World’s Greatest Detective, his son was evidently the World Best Hider, because it took Bruce a long time to finally find (Y/N). He stepped quietly over to the form sitting on the ledge and took a seat beside him, silently gazing out at the backyard. A bottle appeared in his vision and he focused on it as the smell of whiskey reached his nose.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked but took the bottle anyway.

“Jason gave it to me earlier.” He watched Bruce take a sip. “Figured it fit the occasion.”

Bruce chuckled. “That sounds like Jason’s way of dealing with a problem.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth, simply enjoying the calm around the manor and night.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Bruce suddenly said.

(Y/N) sighed and set the bottle down, kicking his legs out off the roof. “Lucius said he hadn’t been feeling well recently. And I just passed it up to getting older.” He looked at his father. “If I’d actually paid attention, then I would’ve seen the symptoms.”

“Do you actually know what the symptoms of heart failure and heart attack are?”

“I…no, not really.”

“Then you couldn’t’ve known.” He looked at (Y/N). “Lucius works in my office every day. If anyone should’ve known and seen it, it should’ve been me.” Bruce shook his head. “But you did everything you could at the awards ceremony, and that saved Lucius’ life tonight. You did good.”

“I could’ve done better.” (Y/N) muttered. “I should’ve. I’m your son and I’m practically useless to the family but—”

“Woah, woah,” Bruce interrupted, brows furrowing as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

(Y/N) turned to him. “I am the least useful person in this family. I mean you and the guys are these crazy intelligent, vigilante master detectives and I’m just me.” He wiped away a tear that fell from his eye. “I can’t speak seven different languages or solve murder cases with a single strand of DNA left at the scene of a crime. Hell, I can’t even throw a punch.” He sighed heavily. “The last time I tried, I broke my hand.”

Meeting his father’s gaze, he said, “I just want to be like you guys.” He lowered his head. “I just want to be normal and not an outlier in the family.”

Bruce simply stared at him for a long moment, and while he’d never been privy to let his emotions show on his face, he let them this time—shock and shame. Shame that he didn’t see his greatest achievement suffering.

“(Y/N).”

He didn’t look up at first, but then he did. “Yes sir?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Forever?”

His father sighed. “Son, I…I never wanted you to be like us.”

He gaped at Bruce. “What?”

“(Y/N), every person in this family is driven to do what we do because of our childhoods. You’re the only one who doesn’thave any skeletons in his closet.” He stared at him. “We wish every day that we could be like you and not a day goes by that we don’t think that.”

“I…what?” he floundered, absolutely bewildered at the idea that his father and brothers wanted to be the most boring person ever. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is.”

“No.” (Y/N) huffed. “I’m me. I’m plain and boring, work a nine to five job me. I mean I write for a magazine for god sakes! And you guys save the world!”

Bruce chuckled. “And what we wouldn’t give to be just a bit more normal like you, son.” He shrugged. “You think you’re inferior because you’re not a vigilante, but you’re the one thing that keeps us all sane. You give us the perspective of someone who isn’t what we are. Of someone who’s completely normal.”

He reached over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “And being normal? Being you?” Bruce squeezed firmly. “I don’t want you to be anyone else.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and though he felt tears in his eyes, he didn’t blink, didn’t let them fall. “I’ve only ever wanted to make you proud.”

Bruce smiled heartfully. “You do, (Y/N). Everyday. Because you’ve always been the best of us.”

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The Emperor: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Being a servant of the Emperor is a unique position that requires multiple positions.

wc: 1.7k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

As you stare at the pink moon hanging low in the sky, you try to remember every single moment that brought you here to the Imperial Palace.

Studious.

You had been a girl who sought to put her head in books instead of learning how to be a wife. There had been five of you in your little group of young girls who sought to improve their minds instead of improving their station by marriage.

And the girls who sought to marry well were not wrong for doing so. Neither were you wrong for wanting to improve your mind with the other men, with who you would never be caught dead socializing. As far as everyone knew, you would not subject yourself to the torture of being affiliated with dalliances. No, you didn't have time for that.

But...

Then you had been snatched from the halls of the library and drug back to your home, the hands of the Imperial soldiers carrying you past your mother and father, who chased after you - horrified and tearful.

At first, you thought you had committed some unfathomable crime and would be punished by the Emperor himself. All signs pointed to you being a criminal due to how the soldiers threw you into a dingy and cramped carriage, one that was not fit for even a lowly citizen to ride in. But when you arrived at the Palace less than an hour later, you stepped into an uncertain future.

With tall walls covered in flowers you didn't know the names of - yet - and fountains in a courtyard made of azure tile, you were sure that you had been deposited in a place too grand for a criminal. There was no way the men who dropped you from the carriage and into the garden were going to kill you. And after a man with long, blonde hair and a bored look approached your stunned figure in the midst of all of the beauty, he held out a hand, called you by your name, and told you he would be your attendant.

But despite the fantastic set of arrangements, the reason why you were now in the palace of Emperor Fushiguro set in before anyone told you.

"Concubine." The word floated around your town when the Emperor's wife died several years ago, but to your knowledge, there had been many women picked for His Holiness's pleasure after that. You'd be the first in over six years, as far as anyone was aware.

And you were.

You are.

You're reminded of this when there's a knock on your door, startling you out of your reverie and bringing you back to the present.

"You may enter," you whisper, pulling the pins out of your hair. Emperor Fushiguro likes your hair down. The large man enters the shadowy room silently, his robes swishing about as he approaches. You stand from your bed and exhale softly, eyeing the green-eyed royal as his feet step to your own.

"How have you been since I last saw you?" he wonders, tilting your chin up with his index finger. "Are you sleeping well?"

"I'm fine, your Holiness," you reply, touching his hand tenderly. "I am well. How are you feeling?" Toji looks at the moon outside, the scar on his lips twitching up slightly.

"I am exhausted," he admits, shoulders slumping.

"Tell me about your day," you encourage him, motioning to the bed. "I am here to listen." And Toji begins regaling his day to you as you rake your fingers through his hair and hum at the appropriate times, letting him be heard in the dim light of your bedroom. When he finishes (usually him just trailing off and staring at the ceiling), you press a kiss to his forehead.

"I will go to the temple in the morning and pray for a resolution to your issues, your Holiness." Toji reaches a hand up to caress your bottom lip, looking into your eyes.

"You are the only concubine who has extended such kindness to me," he breathes. You know this is not true and that's he's just buttering you up for what comes next. Though, you're not sure why.

Because every time you lay underneath him, beside him, on top of him, however he desires to have you that night... you enjoy it. You genuinely enjoy it.

And as Toji disrobes you carefully, fingers raking across your skin like the breath of the wind, you tangle yourself around him, holding his face in your hands, holding him close, holding him for as long as you can, which he adores.

Tonight, you hold him against you as he kisses your lips, your fingers tugging his short black hair as your body squirms underneath his massive frame.

"Eager," he hums against your skin, and you moan as two fingers dip into your core, playing with your slick while the other grabs your breast. Whether it's his practice with the other concubines or his deceased wife, you don't know. But it seems that Toji can play you to his liking, drawing sounds out of you like a skilled harpist. And every night he'd come to visit you, it would be the same way - he'd make a small symphony, then leave when the sun came up to return to running the country.

Toji reminds you of his skill as he rubs your clit repeatedly, lips latching onto your nipple and toying with it before moving to the other.

"Your Holiness," you exhale, but the Emperor whispers,

"Please. Call me Toji while I am with you, y/n." You nod as he kisses down your stomach and lifts your legs over his broad shoulders, hands roaming over your thighs as he spreads them apart. When his cool tongue sinks into your cunt, you stiffen, grasping one of his hands for leverage.

"Toji..." you moan, but he doesn't answer you as his tongue flicks back and forth, preparing you and tasting you at the same time. His eyes flick up to watch your face, which makes your toes curl. Just like he knew they would.

As he toys with you, you can hear his soft grunts of pleasure, feel the kisses, touch his soft hair as his head moves around, and watch him devour you earnestly. All of your senses light up at once, bringing you to a climax you didn't expect when his hands tug your nipples until you're overstimulated and shaking underneath his mouth.

"Oh, gods," you cry out, and Toji hums, speeding up his movements. "I'm going to cum," you pant in response, but he doesn't let up, tipping you over the edge with his ministrations and making your body quiver violently.

You only stop shaking when you feel his cockhead at your entrance, and you wonder how long you'd been trembling as he shirked off his clothes.

"Oh!"

Toji slides into you easily, his girth the only one you'd ever felt in your entire life. When he bottoms out inside of you, he moans, then leans down to capture your lips in his.

"Slow, slow..." you whisper, pressing your hands against his shoulders.

"I know... Shh, shh, shh..." he replies, kissing down your neck and removing your hands tenderly. "I know you like my own mind, my little nightingale." You exhale slowly, legs still shaking as he pumps into you carefully. "You're the only one that sings for me like you do." Another kiss is pressed to your lips. "The only one that attends to me like you do." And another. "The only one I can trust."

His words sink to the pit of your stomach, and you feel some sort of emotion welling up inside of you. But it's quickly pushed down when Toji's teeth sink into the fleshy part of your ear. You jerk a little, clenching around him, and he hisses before chuckling. "Works every time."

And you love it, every single moment of this. Toji speeds up his strokes, making you moan and pant in time with him.

"You're the only one that really enjoys this," he breathes, sweat dripping down from his forehead. You look into his eyes and nod, biting your bottom lip. "I even took your maidenhood and you never resented me for it."

"Never," you agree, nodding again before shuddering. "Toji, just like that! Please..." Toji obeys, silencing himself as he pumps into you even faster, almost reaching his climax with you, hips stuttering and jerking as your walls clench around him rhythmically. Toji groans loudly, his body heaving as he comes down from the short high and then rolls onto his back after pulling out of you.

"Come," he whispers hoarsely, tugging you close to his side and drawing the sheets around your bodies. He nestles his face into your hair and murmurs, "You are the only concubine I feel close to. Only because you love and cherish Princess Tsumiki, and you tend to my needs when you see me."

"It is my duty, is it not?"

"You could be resentful like the others."

"And they let you touch them?" Toji grunts once.

"I touch them, then I leave. It is unbearable at times, but... it's my duty to produce a male heir at some point." You look over your shoulder at him and smile.

"And you will have it."

"I'm hoping I will have it by you so that I can get rid of these other women." The implications of his words are so startling that you flinch in shock. "No?" Toji wonders, frowning as he touches your cheek.

"N-not no, but... Me? From concubine to consort? No other concubine will give you a son?"

"No other concubine can give me a son. That was why I picked them in the first place," he sighs, pulling you even closer. "But now... I am ready for another child. A son to take on the Imperial reign. Through you." He splays a hand across your belly, rubbing it tenderly before yawning loudly.

"Sleep well, your Ho- I mean, Toji." But he's already asleep, nose tucked into the crook of your neck and arms around your frame. Just like you like it.

Concubine to consort? You think to yourself in the moonlight. With an Imperial son?

A smile creeps its way across your face at the thought of being pregnant with Toji's child. Toji's son. To be the vessel of such a treasure... it would make your worth in his eyes that much more.

You fall asleep with that thought, and add "pray for a son" to your list of petitions to the gods.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGGING: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @r-i-m-f-009 @leanne-tamashi @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @savantsoulfinder @chilledlucifer @kontentious @flare-on @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle @fiona782 @debevv @suguruswaifu

#toji fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen

367 notes · View notes

tswaney17 · 3 years

Note

Could you make more IDBTWY prequels ?? I was rereading the fanfic and i kept thinking about it. I am very curious to know what happened at the time when elriel dated at school. ❤❤

One for the Face

So, I know this doesn’t technically follow the prompt exactly, but it is a prequel to IDBTWY and shows that fun relationship between the two of them. Also, I’m American and we say soccer instead of football, so that’s what we’re getting here. 😂 Anyways, I hope you enjoy it and thanks for sending me this! 💕

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

If you do not wish to be tagged in my work because you no longer ship Elriel or just want to be removed in general, please let me know. No hard feelings. Hateful words will not be tolerated.

Word Count: 1,265

Azriel was being a bit of a showoff—he knew that. But when the girl he really liked was in his class playing the sport that he dominated, well, he really couldn’t help himself.

He had been ecstatic when she walked into his P.E. class after having biology together.

Elain Archeron had captured his attention from the first moment he saw her. She had this regal grace, something that no other high schooler seemed to display. She was incredibly kind, quiet, and hands down the most beautiful person he’d ever laid his eyes on.

To say he was a goner would’ve been an understatement, but it was ultimately the truth.

Which was why he was out showing off on the soccer field during their P.E. class. As the only sophomore on the varsity team, Azriel was well accustomed to the rules and the game of soccer. It was why his teacher let him take control of the class today.

He and Rhys were currently battling out for the ball—his brother was nowhere near as skilled with his feet—when Az saw Elain had lined up for the perfect shot towards the goal.

“Elain! Heads up!” he called and kicked the ball toward her.

The only issue was that Azriel was used to playing with people much taller than she was—and more adept. He watched in dreaded anticipation as the ball arced up high and nailed her right in the face.

Elain went down with a cry and he stood frozen in place, in utter horror of what just happened.

“Um, not to butt in or anything, but if you wanted to tell a girl you liked her, that probably wasn’t the best way to go about it,” Rhys mocked.

“Shut up!” he hissed, shaking out of his stupor and ran over to her. Azriel moved people aside so he could kneel by her head.

Her hands covered her face, but it didn’t stop the tears from leaking through.

“Shit, Elain. I’m so sorry!” he said, touching the top of her head as if to soothe her.

She carefully removed her hands, her eyes still watering from the impact on the nose. “Ow,” she groaned, blinking up at him.

“Are you okay?”

Her face twitched a bit. “I think so. Help me sit up?”

He was there instantly, hand holding hers, the other on her shoulder helping her into an upright position. Azriel swore lowly when blood started pouring out of her nose. “Oh, fuck. You’re bleeding.” Without thinking, he tugged his shirt off and bunched it up to press at her nose.

Elain’s eyes widened as she took in his naked torso.

“Mr. Knight!” his teacher called, finally making his way over to them. “Since you’re so desperate to get out of your gym clothes—” a few girls giggled at that. “Why don’t you help Miss Archeron to the nurse’s office and head back to the gym to change into your street clothes.”

“Yes, Sir,” he called out, helping Elain stand up. When she swayed dangerously on her feet, he wrapped an arm around her to prevent her from falling over and carefully guided her off the field.

~~~~~

Elain clutched at his shirt, holding it firmly to her bleeding nose. It smelt like him—like midnight mist and cedar. And sweat, which was oddly not a bad scent on him.

They had never been this close to each other before. Her body tingled where it touched the bare skin of his torso.

She knew Azriel was fit. But she had never seen him with his shirt off and boy, had she been missing out. Even though he was still in what was considered his “teen-body,” he was well-cut. The swell of his shoulders, the toned abs.

Elain was glad his shirt was pressed to her face so he wouldn’t be able to see her absolutely drooling over him. Gods, could she be any more pathetic?

“I really am sorry,” he said again as they approached the front office where the nurse was stationed.

She tried to smile, but it pulled at her tender nose, so she settled on, “I know. It’s okay. It’s not like you did it on purpose.” She narrowed her eyes playfully, looking up at him. “You didn’t do it on purpose, right?”

His eyes widened in alarm. “No!” I would never—”

Elain cut him off with a laugh. “Azriel, I’m just kidding.”

He played mock offense. “El, don’t wound me like that.”

She froze at the name. He had never called her that before. He had never called her anything but “Elain,” and the sound of that nickname on his lips made something inside her turn molten.

Azriel stopped with her, brows furrowing. “What is it?”

Even though her mouth was covered, she knew he could see the smile in her eyes. “I like when you call me that,” she admitted, blushing slightly.

Something in his hazel irises shifted then—almost as if they were burning. “El,” he repeated slowly, letting it curl off his tongue. It made her name seem more sensuous.

Just the sound of it from his lips had her stomach erupting with butterflies.

His mouth curled up in the corner like he could read her thoughts. “Then I’ll have to call you that more often.”

Her cheeks heated even more from the way he looked at her. Elain had thought he might be into her. They always seemed to go back and forth, toeing the line of friendship into something more, but then he would always halt and pull back. She wasn’t sure what to make of it sometimes. In all honesty, it made her somewhat dizzy.

But she knew she liked him and just wished he’d give her a clear signal. To finally make a move and ask her out.

His hand reached out to move the shirt away from her nose. Bending at the waist to bring himself eye level with her, he brought his thumb up to brush at her upper lip.

Elain’s breath caught in her throat.

“It doesn’t look like you’re bleeding much anymore, and it doesn’t look broken.” He replaced the shirt against her nose.

“I think we can take professional soccer player off the list of potential careers,” she joked.

Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

The sound slithered down her spine. It wasn’t often that the broody male in front of her let out such a joyous laugh and Elain took satisfaction in knowing she was the one who pulled it out of him.

“I think we are in agreement there.”

She removed the shirt to stick her tongue out at him, making him chuckle again.

“Okay, let’s get you taken care of first, and then we can discuss possible careers for you.”

Elain couldn’t help but giggle lightly as they reached the nurse's office. “I’d give you back your shirt, but I don’t want to give it to you all bloody.”

“Keep it,” he grinned. “I’ll just get a new one.”

She blushed again but nodded. “Thank you for walking me here.”

Azriel scratched the back of his head, pink dusting his cheeks. Seeming to decide on some internal debate, he said, “Anytime, El.” He winked at her, the most Rhysand thing she had ever seen, before jogging back to the gym.

When Elain returned home from school that afternoon, she immediately washed the blood from his shirt. Though it didn’t still have much of his scent, she still decided to sleep in it that same night—and many nights after that.

~~~~~

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shaydeoffical · 3 years

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Let’s Slip Away: Diluc x Fem Reader: Childhood Best Friend Au

Summary: You and Diluc slip away from the annual Dawn Winery Ball and confess. Reader then deals with some anxiety about the relationship and Diluc soothes them.

Tags:

Lots of fluff, Creepus is a wonderful person, Diluc is so smooth, dancing under the moonlight, long fit.

Diluc x Reader

Lets Slip Away

The annual Dawn Winery Masquerade Ball, the biggest ball this side of Mondstat, or it used to be. Thankfully, Diluc had successfully scaled the ball down in size a little more with each passing year. Still, it didn't make much of a difference with the ballroom still being packed tight. No matter how the guest list shrunk, people found a way to take up the same amount of space as before. There's nothing I loved more than a dance, but it was the people I couldn't stand. Everyone liked to pretend they were an evil aristocrat once their identity was concealed. A fancy dress, a decorative mask, and a new hairstyle, and everyone felt invincible. It was the same thing every year; they'd order the staff around, drink till they lost control, and leave the manor a mess. It was deplorable.

After watching a woman toss a glass on one of the maids, I lost my cool. I may or may not have tossed my grape juice on the women in retribution. The maid couldn't do it, so I had to use my position as "Master" Diluc's best friend to get away with it. What I didn't expect was for the lady's husband to toss not just the wine but the whole glass at my face. While the glass didn't bust when the base hit my head, it did leave a notable bruise, and the wine soaked through my hair, mask, and dress.

Elzer stepped in immediately to settle the issue, and instead of sticking around to get a lecture, I slipped into the garden. Hiding between several grapevines. I listened to the music pour from the house above and pouted. If I had played my cards right tonight, I would have been dancing in an empty corner with Turner or maybe even Diluc if he was free. He always saved the last dance for me. When the party started to clear a little, we'd stay in my favorite corner and have a quick dance while he whispered about he'll find a way to have the event canceled next year. But no, I was being eaten by mosquitos fighting off a headache.

Holding my mask between my hands, the once white fabric had stained dark red. Even my cream dress was littered with splotches that wrecked of dandelion wine. Sucking in my lower lip, I held back a sudden wave of sadness. It settled into my bones and swept through my limbs in a jitter. Why was I so sad? I avenged the maid and did the right thing… but my chest ached. Curling around myself, I tucked my head between my lap. There was a time and place for crying, and a party wasn't one. Yet, there I was, sobbing into the fancy gown Diluc had hand made for me. Of course, he wouldn't be mad at me for what happened, but the guilt was eating me alive. I had ruined the evening for myself and made things harder on my friend. "There you are. I've been looking all over-. Hey, Elzer told me what happened, but he didn't mention a welt. How badly are you hurt?" Diluc pushed through the vines faster and hopped over the last row. He knelt beside me and carefully lifted my chin so he could see my face. "I'm just being a baby." I leaned back, the moonlight catching my skin. He ran his thumb over the knot on my forehead, and he clenched his teeth. "Damn bastard." He looked back at the mansion. "He might be wearing a mask, but there's only one person in Mondstat with monogram shoe buckles." "What?" I laughed; he was so serious, but the idea of a monogram shoe buckle had me drying up my tears. "Who pays for that kind of thing?" "Mr. Barker." Diluc wiped under my eyes. "Are you hurt anywhere besides your head?" "Besides the guilt of running the dress you got me and making the party harder for you to manage, I'm fine." I let it out. There was no use in pretending it wasn't bothering me. I had learned a lot about Diluc in our years of being together. While he was a very perceptive man when it came to solving crimes and putting things together, he didn't have the same skill for guessing how I felt. He's known something was wrong before, but he'd just find ways to blame himself if I didn't tell him. "I'll have you another dress made, and those Barkers aren't your fault. Ms. Barker started it, and I ended it. There's always a little drama at these events." He twirled my hair around his finger. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop it entirely." "Don't go blaming yourself now." I scooted so close; I was almost in his lap. "Let's just focus on the music or the sky. I know you'll have to go back in soon, so let's just relax for a moment." "Hmm, I can hear it from here. It's nice." A soft number started to play, and people passing by the window cast shadows into the courtyard. He leaned his head against mine. Minutes passed by, and the song changed, both of us just settling our nerves. "So, I guess we won't have the last dance together this year." I hummed, the thought burning at the back of my mind. "I can't go back in there like this." I forced myself to laugh, trying to get it off my chest without sounding too sad. "We don't have to go back in. Elzer can handle the end of the night speech for me, like every year." Diluc stood, reaching his hand out to me. "Milady, may I have this dance?" "Diluc…of course, you may." I pushed my insecurities down and gripped his rough hand. Being wealthy, Diluc had been trained in many different types of formal ballroom dances. When he was in the zone, there was no one but Kaeya who could match his prowess and aura. But I wasn't blessed with the same background. I was just the daughter of the maid, and while my mother was paid well, there wasn't enough money to pay for a dance instructor. However, Diluc taught me everything he knew. We use to spend hours after his class, practicing and gliding around the living room. After some time, I even got to join the classes as Diluc and Kaeya's partner. Creepus convinced my mother it was just good practice for the boys, but looking back, he just wanted me to get that experience as well. "You okay?" Diluc gently gripped my waist as I spun back into his arms. "Yes, I was just thinking about when you taught me how to dance." I closed the gap between us and started moving with the song. Diluc took charge after a few more movements, and I gave up trying to lead. It was always a fun game for us to try to take charge, but I normally gave in fairly fast. Every now and then, he'd let me lead, but I often stepped on his toes when I did. The ground wasn't level as a dance floor, so it was easier to just follow Diluc. Since he took the first step, he was able to find the best footholds. When we did hit a small hump, we'd steady each other and share a small smile. It wasn't a seamless performance like when we were on solid ground, but it was fun. It also gave us a reason to cling tighter to each other. His broad chest was always so warm; there was nothing more pleasant than laying my head there and closing my eyes as we swayed under the moon. "That was always so much fun." Diluc spun me out, then back into his arms. "Father use to watch us practice, he never told me directly, but Elzer said it was one of his favorite memories." Diluc pressed his lips into a line, eyes turning back to the manor. "He always loved this event, but I can't help but hate it." "I'm not a fan of the crowds or the entitled guests. But I do enjoy dancing with you." I laid my head on his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. "It seems we only dance when this event rolls around. And I can't help but wish for more moments like this. So, while I understand your distaste, I do think Creepus had the right idea. This is a chance for all of us to come together do something we all loved…it just is hard to enjoy when other people are so entitled." "I feel the same way. Dancing with you, it's always my favorite part of the ball." We swayed back and forth in a tight embrace, the music fading out and our footwork growing sloppy. "There's been so much to do recently. I'm afraid I've neglected you." "Mother told me that as friends get older, drifting apart is normal… I'm just glad you're still here with me. No matter how short that time is." He hugged me tighter, inhaling a sharp breath. "Maybe friends do, but my feelings for you are much stronger than just friends." I gasped before I could stop myself. Crickets chirped in the distance, and the lighting bugs emerged just as the party started to close. This moment was very much real…but did he really just confess? "You want to be with me?" I slowly looked up, grabbing the sides of his suit. "As more than friends?" "I do." He pulled back a little, glancing at the ground. "How do you feel? Could you ever love me as more than a friend? I know it's selfish to ask that of you, given the dangers that follow my line of duty. But I can't deny myself any longer." "My heart is going to jump out of my chest, Luc." Grasping his hand, I pressed it to my wrist. He smiled, rubbing his thumb over my pulse. "I want to be yours, and you mine. To be honest, I've had feelings for you for a while now. I just thought you didn't return them." Heat climbed up my face, and I looked away to hide it. While his confession was so smooth, mine was energetic and messy. Why couldn't I keep it calm? "That settles it then." He stepped closer, our eyes locking and fingers lacing. "We'll be together from here on out." A warm breeze went by, picking up the bottom of my ruined skirt. "Next time there's a dance, you won't have to leave my side, nor I yours. There will be no flying wine glasses or uncouth guests. We can dance the night away without worry or interruption." "I don't know if a party could ever go that smoothly." I pushed his hair back and cupped his face. "Unless we barred over half the guest list." "If you don't think I'd do that, then you underestimate how far I'll go to make you happy." His checks tined red, barely illuminated by the moon. "Oh, I don't doubt you, Master Diluc. But I'm not hard to please, we could dance in the living room like we use to, and I'd be the happiest person alive." I tugged him closer, wrapping my arms around his hips, and swaying to an imaginary beat. "It's not often you add my title before my name." He hummed, letting me lead us to the song in my head. "Master Diluc, whatever do you mean?" I batted my eyelashes and snickered. "I didn't realize I added it. Maybe it's where I've spent most of the night talking about you, and not to you that I've forgotten how to be relaxed. There was many a guest who wanted to pry about your love life." "Well, you have a definitive answer now, Lady Amber." He kissed the top of my head, stopping for a moment. His body radiated a wave of heat, and he nodded to himself. "It's starting to get cold. We should head inside before you catch a cold. I'm sure everyone's left by now." "I don't want this moment to end." I clung to his shirt, the warmth he emitted making my eyelids grow heavy. Whenever he allowed me to use him as a personal heater, I took the chance. But this was the first time I didn't worry about it being the last. "We have many more moments like this ahead of us." He supported me as we walked towards the mansion, looping his arm around my waist. "Let's go clean up, and turn in for the night. Tomorrow we can have breakfast and go for a ride along the river. How does that sound?" "It sounds so nice." Once we were back in the house, Elzer met us in the doorway. "Where have you been, Master Diluc?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose and glanced at me. "And you, Ms. Amber, what were you thinking tossing your drink? You completely ruined the night. I could hardly contain the guests" Diluc wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and Elzer's tone sifted from miffed to muted. "Elzer, the issue was with the guests, not Amber." He steered me towards the stairs, nudging me along. "Go on to bed. I'll be up there in a moment. I have some business to finish up." Diluc walked towards his office, motioning for Elzer to follow him. Elzer shot me a perplexed look and tried to mouth out, 'be more careful' before hurrying after Diluc. I whisper back, "okay," before taking the stairs two at a time before stopping. I wasn't going to get in trouble, so I might as well show I'm not ashamed. "Goodnight Elzer," I called after the older man, with as "pleasant" of a tone as I could muster. Parties almost always stressed him more than Diluc, but since Elzer was an employee, he couldn't run and hide like Luc. Truth be known, if Diluc hadn't been there, I would have gotten a long lecture on the importance of keeping good relations with potential business partners. But that's only because Elzer couldn't let his frustrations out on anyone else. I was always there to listen and receive his distain when things went wrong. It wasn't my favorite pastime, but it did help him feel better. It was surprising he was so stressed, he actually chastised me in front of Diluc. It must have been a tough night even after I left. I usually was lectured in private, but he really was ready to let me have it. Once in the guest room, I disrobed. The heavy gown took several minutes to untie and loosen the laces, but once it was done, my lungs could fully expand. My ribs ached, so I rubbed circles on my sides till the initial throb dulled. The night had gone better than I ever planned, and now it was over. Yet, there was a worse throb in my chest than the pain of a corset. Diluc and I were finally together. We removed the ever-lingering question and just confessed. Why did it hurt inside? Was it that the party was hard on everyone else and I was so happy? Or was it something else? Tilling the blue pitcher on the nightstand, water rushed into the ornate basin below. Dipping a rag into the cool water, I began to wash the wine from my face. It had been such a stressful night. Perhaps the empty feeling inside was fear of the unknown. Or fear that Diluc would wake up and change his mind. That he'd send me away for good once he realized he could never be with someone of such low status. Someone who didn't couldn't even keep up public appearance at a ball. Maybe, it would just take me slipping up once when I was wearing a mask? Then he'd send me away from the manor. I finished cleaning up, then tossed the water out the window. Fixing the pitcher and basin back in place, I reached below the nightstand and pulled out my nightgown. Slipping on the flowy gown, I turned down my sheets and got comfortable. This guest room had been mine for as long as I could remember. While I still lived in the cottage by the river with my mother, I spent more nights at the mansion than at home. Diluc and I would rush through his paperwork every night, and I'd help get his gear ready to go protect Mondstat. I was his sidekick in many ways. Spending so much time there at night, it just made sense for me to sleep here too. We were a great team. Plus, the close proximity made things easier and less suspicious… But that wasn't the whole truth. It was more so that my mother had met someone new, and he had moved into our shared home. He was a nice man, a retired Knight of Favonius, but I just couldn't relax around him. He was stern about me not going out after dark, so staying over at the mansion became more and more frequent. Which was better for mom and Mr.Godfrey's partnership. But while I spent more nights away, mom started to believe there was something between Diluc and me, so she was happy to see me leave home. She was going to be overjoyed to hear the news that we confessed. Though, I'm sure she'll say kicking me out was the reason we finally admitted our feelings, which was not the whole truth. Still, I did miss my own bed sometimes. Pressing my back to the headboard, I curled my knees up and rested my head between them. Sucking in a deep breath, small tears slipped past again. There was too much happening. I couldn't think about one thing for too long. So much good just happened. Why? Why was I thinking about the bad? A familiar rasp at the door rang through the room. "Come in." Wiping my eyes, I sat up and pulled the covers up to my neck. "You're crying again." He walked into the candlelight. I could tell he had cleaned up before coming to see me. He was wearing one of his loose puffy shirts and some cotton pants; his hair had been smoothed and pulled into a low ponytail, water dripping from the ends. It didn't matter what he wore. He always looked unbelievably handsome. "Was it Elzer? He knows it's not your fault. He was just worried about our trade deal." "There's just so much to think about. I can't let myself be happy." I rubbed my eyes again. "What if you realize I'm not good enough for you? Or what if my mother's partner treats you poorly because you quit the Knights? Then that couple, what if they stop working with you and it hurts the business because of me? No one is ever going to see me as anything more than a gold digger." My brain let loose, new concerns and problems being added to my mix. "I'm so negative right now, and I know you probably just want to be happy that we feel the same way…but- I'm so sorry. "He pulled back the covers and crawled in with me. Wrapping me in his arms, the blanket went over our heads, and Diluc settled down. "There you go, having to comfort me like a child." I rested my hand on his shoulder. "You sure you could learn to love a mess like me?" "I already love you." He rubbed patterns on my back, pressing a kiss to the lump on my forehead. "You've been like this since we were children, plagued with worries beyond your control. I know that after you let it out, you always feel better. And that the minute you go silent, that's when I really need to do some digging." He paused drawing on my back and instead moved to play with my hair. "We'll figure it all out as we go, all the what's and if's. We'll take them one at a time, starting with the one I have control over." "Woah." He flipped me over, hovering inches from my face. He pinned me between his legs, the v neck of his shirt hanging open so I could see the red hairs on his chest. "You could be from the richest family in Mondstat or poorest, and I'd still want to be with you." He kissed me, pressing down just until our bodies touched. "I'd go as far as to say, if you were a member of the Fatui, I'd still be smitten. I would certainly find a way to break your ties with them, but I couldn't stop loving you. So, you are more than enough for me, and if anyone makes you feel differently, then I will handle it." "That's a bold statement coming from you." I ran my fingers through his ponytail as it hung over his shoulder. "I can't argue with that logic, but I promise I'm not a member of the Fatui." I wrapped my arms around his waist, encouraging him to squish me with his full weight. "I'm going to crush you." He fought against me, but I only nuzzled his neck, blowing raspberries. "Amber, hey." "I know. But I'd also like to point out how improper it is for you to be in my room at this hour. So, I'd like to be crushed as repayment… please." I let go of one side of his hip and wiped my eyes. "You are right. It is improper." He lowered himself a little more but didn't fully lay on me. "A true gentlemen would never stay this late with a proper young lady. However, there is something else I want that's a little scandalous." "What could that be?" I gasped, my lungs not fully expanding as his weight sunk down on my chest. He noticed as he sat up to his previous position. "A kiss?" He moved his elbow up and cupped my face. His eyes glimmered with the flame that was lighting up the room. His touch was gentle but so firm I couldn't imagine being in another person's embrace. At that moment, there were only two people in the world, and I was madly in love with one of them. "That sounds quite proper to me. You should always kiss your lover goodnight." I stuttered a little, unable to keep up the playful banter as I looked at his lips. The smile that spread on his face made the butterflies in my stomach flutter. Archons, I was smitten. His thumb brushed my lower lip before he brought his mouth down for a chaste kiss. Testing the waters, he hovered millimeters above me, and I stole his lips in a deeper kiss. Having a lack of experience in the field, I matched the pattern he set. Just like dancing, I tried to take the lead and failed miserably. So I did was I was best at, adding the fun flourishes. I curled my fingers into his hair and snaked my hand up his shirt and across his chest. He matched my movements, caressing my face and tilting my head up to deepen the kiss. Every star in the sky dulled in comparison to the explosion of light that spread over my body. He shifted back, catching his breath. he smoothed my hair and peppered, kissing around my face before setting back. "Thank you." He laced our fingers together, pulling my hand to his mouth and kissing my knuckles. "Will you stay tonight?" I took our intertwined hands and kissed his knuckles in return. "I don't want you to leave just yet." "As you wish." He got behind me, adjusting the covers we had tossed around earlier. "Now, let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." I laid my head on my pillow and scooted back until we were slotted against each other. His hand wrapped around my shoulders in a reassuring squeeze. "I love you." "I love you more." It took a while for all the blood pumping through my body to relax again, but once it did, I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. Dreams of dancing through the clouds with Diluc filled my head, and I had the best rest of my entire life. Next to the man I dearly loved.

The End

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xxiaoyang · 4 years

Text

omo | yangyang (m)

yangyang is always eager to please you, so of course that's no exception when you want to try something new

words: 2.5k

warnings/tags: smut, omorashi, handjobs, dom!reader, sub!yangyang, noona kink, lots of build i cant stop when it comes to him

a/n: i couldn't get this out of my head and i just like thinking of yangyang being desperate. if you’re not comfortable with omo, don’t read

contrary to what most people thought of him, what with his mischievous antics and energetic personality, yangyang was a good boy. or at least, he was a good boy for you.

when you were first friends with yangyang you also saw him that way. he was quite loud, very energetic and playful, and didn't usually listen well to anyone else. he could be stubborn and he was very headstrong. but it soon dawned on you that yangyang wasn't just some troublemaker. he just needed someone who could handle him.

it took a while, but it wasn't long before you noticed the difference in how he acted with you versus the other guys. he always paid close attention to you when you spoke, and if you asked him for something, he'd do it. kun's eyes nearly popped out of his head the first time that happened. albeit at first he did it with a bit of hesitance and a mumbled complaint for show, but he was quick to help you anyway.

after that you never had an issue. you'd ask yangyang for help carrying something, there he was. told him to pick up his trash and put it where it belonged, he jumped to it. told him to keep it down at night so they didn't get (another) noise complaint, he quieted immediately.

and it was like you knew magic. none of the other boys could comprehend how you did it, assuming you must have had some dirt on him or he owed you big time. little did they know, it was all out of yangyang's pure will. secretly, it made him happy to help you and listen to you. in part because he maybe had a little crush on you and wanted to make you happy too, but also because the praise you gave him made him weak.

one night when he came over to hang out after a long day of filming, his face still made up from their schedule, you told him he looked handsome and that his makeup made his eyes even prettier, and it shot straight to his heart. and his dick.

and that's when he realized that maybe he's just a bit head over heels for you and would do anything you wanted him to.

that's how you ended up here, with yangyang's big pretty eyes holding yours with a look of concern and bewilderment when you decided to try something new.

it was just another sunday with your boyfriend, playing games, watching movies and cuddling on your couch, when he started wiggling and crossing and uncrossing his legs.

yangyang was like a child sometimes where he would get so wrapped up in games or shows that he'd neglect to do even the necessities like eat and go to the bathroom. he hadn't realized yet as he was invested in the game in front of him, so you took this as an opportunity to try something you'd always wanted to.

there weren't many things yangyang wouldn't try, as you had soon learned over the course of your relationship with the boy. he was very playful and adventurous and eager to please. you'd discussed any boundaries so it was with a spark of excitement that you decided to go forward with your idea.

he was playing mario kart online and wouldn't leave the race to go, saying he had to keep up his winning streak and smiling widely as his mii jumped up and down with a crown adorning its big head. you couldn't help but smile at him and card your fingers through his freshly dyed brown hair.

"okay, baby, just let me know if you want me to take over. i'm good at this too, you know." you said lightheartedly.

he put in his vote for the next course and turned to you with that sweet close-mouthed smile and nodded, bouncing a bit as he turned back and waited for the next race. that's when he started squirming again, bringing his thighs together this time and keeping them locked tight. the corner of your mouth raised at sight.

you waited until the race started and he was nearing the third lap to start tracing lines up and down his spine over his t-shirt. when your fingers grazed the exposed skin of his neck his entire body shivered and he let out a breath, not yet turning his attention from the game.

perhaps you needed to take it up a level?

he was sitting on the edge of couch hunched over, so you crawled into the space behind him, a leg on either side of him, and gently rested your chin on his shoulder.

he hummed at the feeling of you pressed against his back. he would always deny it but he loved being little spoon.

"hi." he said it in a way that was so cute and innocent you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him and peck the side of his head.

"what?" he giggled as you tickled his neck with your nose.

"you're really cute, you know that?"

he kept his eyes trained on the screen, watching as the game randomly shuffled to pick another course, pretending that didn't make his heart flutter. "of course."

you kissed his neck again and he squirmed.

yangyang had a lot of sensitive spots on his body, another thing you'd learn after you started dating. two of them were his neck and his ears. it made him jump when people got close to them, especially you, but for a different reason.

you thought about this as you continued your attack on his neck, watching the way his fingers twitched over the controller. he kept racing, easily making it to first place just after the race had started.

you took this opportunity to slip your fingers under his baggy shirt and rub circles around his tummy. that was another sensitive spot. you smiled behind his back, aware of the effect you had on him.

at that he wiggled in your hold, becoming increasingly restless as he tried to hold himself. he really had to go. how long had he been holding it? how should he tell you he needs to get up? he couldn't stop now. this is the most first places he'd ever gotten online. as much as he trusted your mario kart skills, it wouldn't feel right if he didn't get all the wins himself.

in the middle of his internal debate he felt your nails drag up his side from his hip, slowly and lightly up to his nipple and he jolted, almost throwing himself off the course and the couch.

you suppressed a laugh as you watched him struggle from behind.

"w-what are you doing, noona?"

the name he used when you two were alone. it was something he used because he liked how it made him feel. another thing people didn't know about yangyang is that he liked feeling small. he liked being the younger one and he liked having someone else in charge of him. that someone being you. the name made him feel good, like when you called him baby.

your heart flipped at the soft tone, imagining how sweet his face must look in this moment.

"just wanted to be close to my baby boy," you spoke softly into his ear, "is that okay?"

he felt warm. his cheeks must have been tomato red by now and he was starting to hurt. he had to go really bad already and your touches were making it harder to hold it.

he didn't want you to stop though. it had been a while since he'd spent time with you like this and he always loved your hands on him. he didn't know what to do, so he just nodded and stayed put.

you left him alone for another race, only watching and cheering him on over his shoulder. it was when he focused on the game again that you decided to kick it up a notch.

your hands that had been resting dormant in his lap now inching their way toward his hipbones, you waited for the perfect moment to attack.

when he was almost done with the third lap, you squeezed at his hips, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear as he squeaked.

he whipped his head to look at you and you smiled at him innocently. his eyes flicked back to the screen to make sure he finished first and then he returned his attention to you.

"noona, that tickles..." he trailed off, beet red and breaking eye contact. perfect. he looked perfect.

"mm? but you like when i kiss your ears?" you gave him room to respond but he kept his eyes down. "what's wrong, baby?"

he melted at the name. he shook his head with a small smile and went back to the game, just barely getting his vote in on time.

"just surprised me." he mumbled when he thought you couldn't hear him.

your boyfriend was restless now. you felt his muscles tensing and relaxing under your hands as he tried to hold himself.

careful not to be seen, you slid your hand past his pelvis to hover over his length. when he was fully immersed in the race, you brushed your hand over him, increasing the pressure as you made your way up to where his bladder is.

yangyang gasped and hunched over, waves of heat rolling over him.

"are you okay, baby? does something hurt?"

he could feel himself growing hard, the flow of blood adding more pressure to his core. for some reason he felt embarrassed, not wanting to tell you how badly he needed the bathroom. maybe he could just excuse himself for a minute and let you take over for him.

but you weren't letting him go any time soon. you held him in your grip, rubbing your hands over his stomach. it was bloated from his full bladder and you knew he only had a few more minutes in him.

not giving him the time to come up with an excuse you spoke up, "you can keep playing. i just want to touch you."

he wasn't sure why he couldn't get up or just be honest and tell you he has to go. he was sure that if you touched him more he would have a very embarrassing accident. still, he didn't budge, only nodding and continuing the game.

you made sure to wait for the next race to start before initiating your next attack. sneakily you worked your way to his balls, cupping them and gently rolling them the way he loved.

your boyfriend cried out, the controller slipping from his hands as one flew to your wrist.

"noona! i have to-"

"i know, baby, you can keep going. don't let me stop you," your voice lilted. you were having a bit too much fun with this.

he was sweating now, feeling the slow creeping up his dick. if he didn't get up now he was going to piss himself.

"no, you don't understand, i need to-"

"i do understand," you cut him off once again, wanting now to make your intentions clear to him. "you think i haven't noticed you wiggling around in your spot for the last half hour? or how much water you drank?"

he was confused. "then why..."

"because i want to try something with you, if that's okay," you prodded, offering him an out.

he sat for a second pondering it before speaking up. "what do you want me to do?"

a wide smile stretched over your face, pleased with your ever obedient boy.

"just keep playing, i'll take care of you."

he swallowed and nodded once, adam's apple bobbing in his neck which was covered in a sheen of sweat.

his eyes were frantic as they went from you to the tv, finally landing on the screen when you gave him the okay. somehow he had still come in first. he knew then that wouldn't be true for long.

he tried his best to play, he really did, but his eyes were closing on their own at the feeling of you all over him.

your hands were working his balls while simultaneously rubbing circles into the head of his dick. the pressure in his pelvis was beginning to hurt, now feeling an orgasm building in him.

"keep going."

he hadn't realized be stopped, his character abandoned somewhere off the track.

"noona..." his voice strained in his throat.

you scattered a handful of kisses across his shoulder, picking up speed with your fingers on his cock. he let himself fall against you, leaning on you entirely.

it was too much. his entire bottom half was throbbing and he knew he was about to burst. he wasn't sure which one was coming first, if it would be his orgasm or otherwise, but something was coming.

yangyang thrashed in your hold and let out small, pathetic cries.

"please! please let me go. i really can't -ah!"

he looked like a hot mess, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his neck flushed red to his chest, panting and heaving.

"then let go, baby. it's okay."

you really wanted him to do this? to let himself go all over you and himself? it was humiliating, but it made his cock leak in your hand.

"but, it'll make a m-mess."

"don't worry, we can clean it. let go for me, baby boy." your voice alone could have pushed him over the edge, but it was your hand smoothing over his bladder and pressing down that broke him.

yangyang yelped as he felt himself let go, no longer able to hold it in. hot liquid soaked through the fabric of his sweats, your hand still stroking him through it the whole time.

when his bladder was about half empty you pulled back to suck on a spot on his neck, a hand twirling around the tip of his dick, his orgasm hitting him like a truck.

tremors racked through his body as a mixture of cum and piss left him in large spurts, his bottoms completely ruined. he couldn't bring himself to care as you whispered praises to him, riding out his high.

it felt like a whole minute later when the stream finally stopped, his breath almost knocked out of him and his body feeling totally spent.

"wow," you giggled, "that was a lot."

yangyang was nothing short of humiliated, turning his head to hide in your neck.

"that wasn't so bad, was it, baby boy?"

no. it was the most relief he'd ever felt in his life. but now as he was drying off and feeling his clothes stick to him, he wanted a shower.

"felt really good. just sticky."

you laughed at your boyfriend's cute tone and he joined you, still lying against you while he steadied his breathing.

"you did great. let's go get you cleaned up, cutie."

he let you lift him to stand and guide him to the bathroom to run a bath for the two of you.

"can i take care of you now?"

you smiled, "sure, baby."

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babbushka · 3 years

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number 33 on the sfw prompts with flip would be so cute!!

1.5k, no warnings, just bickering married couple fluff!

It’s a gorgeous Spring day in your slice of paradise that is Colorado. The sun is shining, the sky a powdery blue, there’s a gentle breeze that makes all the tall grasses and wildflowers sway, and the birds chirp a melody that you can’t help but whistle along to. It’s one of Flip’s rare days off, an attempt by the CSPD trying to balance the amount of overtime he gets from his long cases, and he’s decided the day should be spent outdoors. You don’t blame him, he’s a mountain man after all, and he can only be cooped up inside his stuffy office for so long.

So you’re reading one of your books outside on a large picnic blanket in the backyard of your big house tucked away in the mountains, peeking up now and again as your husband steadies himself for a moment or two before firing at the target he’s set up way on the other side of the property. He fires, and you don’t even need to look to know he’s shot a bullseye. Clapping for him, because you know he likes to hear it, you can’t help but smile fondly.

Flip subtly sneaks a peek at you, trying his best to not look like he’s desperate for your praise and approval, but then he sees you stealing a sneak at him, and he lets out a deep rumbling chuckle that has you raising an eyebrow and asking, “What’s so funny?”

You set your book down when he shrugs one of his shoulders, a cheeky smirk tugging one of the corners of his mouth, making those dimples of his that you adore appear. He adjusts something on his rifle, fiddling with the new scope you got him for his birthday that just passed, and smiles to himself, shy and cocky at the same time, if such a thing were possible.

“It’s just strange to think that this is my life, that’s all.” He raises the scope back up to his eye, positions himself properly, and you both hold your breath for the moment that he fires, listening to the sound of the bullet whipping through the air and tearing through the target.

“Good strange? Or bad?” You ask when he puts the rifle back down, throws another one of his charming smiles your way.

“Good.” He nods, says it so stoic and deadpan that if you hadn’t been married to him for as long as you have, you’d think he’s being sarcastic. “Definitely good. Feels like a fuckin’ dream sometimes.”

He sets up the rifle again, carefully, stoic, and takes another shot. The breeze must have knocked that one a little off center, because Flip’s clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth the way that he does when he’s annoyed by something.

“Example.” You smile, propping yourself up on your side, your head resting on your hand where your elbow is bent and set atop the plush blanket.

“Marrying you. No fucking clue why or how you said yes.” Flip’s decided it’s time for a cigarette break, or at least that’s what he tells himself when he walks with his bowlegs on over to you, setting the safety on the rifle and leaving it over in the grass where it can’t be an issue. “I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror. I never thought I’d get this far.”

“You were something of a nervous wreck back then, weren’t you?” You open your arms for him, a teasing playful wink crinkling the corner of your eye, “In your own special way.”

“Don’t bully me.” Flip immediately settles himself down on the big blanket next to you, lights up a cigarette and pulls you into his arms, sucking down the nicotine as fast as he can while you chuckle at him. He pinches your nose and gives your face a shake, mesmerized by the sound of your laugh. “I was young and you were the most beautiful fuckin’ woman I’d ever seen. Still are.”

Sunlight dapples through the leaves of the shady tree you’ve set the blanket down next to, and all Flip can do is stare at you. Sometimes it’s all he can ever do, too in love with you to come up with the words to say just how he feels. Thankfully, you only tug on his ear sweetly, and sigh out happily.

“I wanted you to let me wear your ring so damn bad, Flip, you don’t even know.” You chuckle to yourself, and he does, he knows now. Maybe not back then when he was stupid and oblivious, but now he knows.

“You’ve got one now.” Flip snatches your hand up and presses a kiss to the big diamond right there on your ring finger, the one he worked for so long and so hard to save up and buy you, not wanting to settle for anything less than the best.

“Damn right I do.” You grin, rolling away from him just far enough to lay on your back and look up at the fluffy white clouds that pass along the sky, off to who knows where. “I’m the one living the dream here. Handsome strong husband, beautiful house, money to burn, happy healthy kids? What more could a girl want?”

Flip joins you, the two of you lying side by side on the blanket, pointing up at clouds and announcing what you think they look like. He could lay here forever, Flip thinks to himself as he watches the way the clouds cover the sun now and again, watches as your face gets more illuminated and then less, you squinting against the rays of light with a big happy grin.

He dips down to kiss you, deeply for a moment, sighing against your tongue in his own happy lazy way, before he pushes himself away from you, and goes back to his spot on the grass where he picks up the gun and resumes his target practice. He’s got to keep his skills sharp, after all, especially with hunting season coming up.

“Bullseye.” He says aloud after hitting three more rounds of yet another perfect target, before turning around and putting his hand on his hip, “What, no applause?”

“You’re an idiot.” You laugh, before clapping and even giving him a whistle or two for his trouble, and he bites away his grin, clicking the safety back on his rifle and making a beeline straight for you.

“Oh yeah?” He scoffs, and now you’re up off the blanket and running away from him as your laughter is carried by the breeze, and he’s chasing you down towards the fields of wildflowers that sit on the outskirts of your property, “Take it back -- c’mere -- !”

“Phil! For fuck’s sake -- ah!” You laugh and laugh as he runs after you, letting out a little shout of surprise when he manages to wrap his arms around you and hoists you over his shoulder, your stomach swooping from being upside down. He really was a lumberjack, wasn’t he? You laugh and smack against his back, and he only smacks at your ass in response.

Flip does this sometimes, when he’s in a playful mood like this, he’ll just snatch you up and tote you around, parading you through the house. He didn’t do it so much when you were pregnant, because he was mostly too afraid of hurting the baby, but the babies have long been born now, and this mock-wrestling that you do together can resume, and Flip’s going to take every opportunity to do just that.

It’s a perfect day for it too, he figures, not too hot, not too cold, not rainy or too windy. He’ll keep you outside for as long as he can manage, because dammit the opportunity to see you out in the splendor of nature like this only comes around every so often. So you don’t complain too much when he wrinkles your dress, or accidentally kicks off one of your shoes that you’ll make him go find, because even when he’s scowling and his brow is furrowed in the way that it is, there’s a sparkle in his eye that you wouldn’t dare put out.

Back at the blanket, he dumps you onto it with a thud, and you swat at his thigh for the trouble, winded and so so so in love. He crowds your body against the trunk of the shady tree with his own, caging you between his arms, and you roll your eyes as your arms slink around his shoulders, lightly panting from all the running as you rub your nose against his own.

“You are one sharp shooter, Mr. Zimmerman.” You say teasingly, your lips ghosting over his.

“That’s better.” Satisfied for the moment, Flip indulges in the warmth of your sun-drenched body, kissing you beneath the big tree, and he figures he doesn’t mind all the time cooped up in the office if it means he gets days like these.

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Tagging some Flip lovin' friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman/you #adam driver fanfic #adcu #flip zimmerman fluff #my writing

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