#but right now i want soft cuddly quickly drawn shit

[starwarsite]

Naps are important in the Skywalker family and Obi Wan takes them very seriously

#star wars #star wars fanart #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi fanart #uncle obi wan #luke skywalker #luke skywalker fanart #leia organa #leia organa fanart #skywalker family #sketchdump #artistag #procreate drawing #i'll be back soon with more curated stuff #but right now i want soft cuddly quickly drawn shit #obi wan is the cool uncle ok

[windows98whore]

Welcome home

An: You’re tired and stressed from a shite day at work. Your husband is more than happy to release that tension for you. Just a short Drabble to cope with a bad day.

Warnings: Vaginal sex, comfort after a bad day. Cumming inside?

Word Count:

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo

All characters are aged up. Divider credits are at the bottom of the post.

Just imagine coming home, dog ass tired. It’s cold out, and you bundled up for the bus ride to and from work, then the grocery store. You drop the bag of groceries you’d forced yourself to get for dinner and kick off your shoes at the door before you start peeling off a fleece and a big coat to hang on the hooks by the door. Your hat and scarf come next, and you shake out your curls, rubbing a hand down your neck. Despite the cold, the way your hair had been pressed against your skin had left you damp with sweat. You didn’t bother calling out that you were home, Katsuki was used to you coming home around this hour, and if he wasn’t on a patrol or mission, he was almost always in one spot.

From the doorway you could see Katsuki planted in that familiar recliner in front of the tv, watching the news of course, a cup in his hands. He looks up when you saunter in and plop yourself on top of his spread thighs with a tired sigh. He sets his cup on the end table and scans your back, noting the visible tension in your muscles.

He doesn’t speak. Instead, he runs warmed fingers up and down your arms, helping you shed your blazer, leaving you in a simple button up. He takes his time, unbuttoning each button and pressing warm, soothing kisses down your neck and back, his lips soft against your shoulders.

You catch a glimpse of his silver wedding band glinting in the lamp light and thread the fingers of one of your hands into his. Palm to palm, the only sounds between you for a moment, is the droning on of newscaster on the tv. You enjoy the roughness on his skin, the calloused fingers once used for fighting, ever so gentle and sweet with you, when you need it.

He knew work was stressful. Knew you wanted to quit too, and go into another field or just work anywhere else. He didn’t prod, no use in having you repeat your usual rants about paperwork and bitching supervisors and never getting anything the way they liked it. He rubs a thumb on your palm and presses his lips against your back.

“Let me make you feel good.” He mumbles against your skin. He releases your smaller hand and sets his hands gently on your hips to lift you off of his lap. The two of you walk slowly, to the bedroom, and not long after you flop down onto your plush bed with a huff, Katsuki’s body follows right behind, moving to push your pencil skirt and panties down your hips in one easy sweep, until the expensive fabric gathers around your ankles. You kick them off, not caring where they end up right now.

Katsuki resumes his lazy kisses, alternating between kitten licks and gentle suckles. He expertly undoes the clasp of your bra and takes both breasts into his hands to massage at the supple skin with a soft groan.

“Beautiful.” He murmurs against your neck. He relishes the way your back arches and the sighs that tumble from your supple lips as he rolls your pert nipples between his fingers. He pinches ever so slightly, smirking when you gasp. Katsuki releases your right breast and flips you over to trail a hand down your stomach, rough fingers ghosting over your belly to your thighs.

He pulls you in by your hip, and ruts into your shapely ass, groaning at the way your ass feels against his hardening cock. He wants to give it to you, fuck you until you’re relaxed and cuddly and sleepy, but he takes his time. This is about your pleasure and he wants you to know that. His fingers dip towards you heat, and he parts your lips to rub a warm finger over your clit.

The pressure sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. You mewl his name quietly, which only spurs him on. “Good girl...” he’s whispering, voice deep from arousal. “Like that? Like how I touch you?” His words just add to your growing pleasure as he thumbs your clit, circling it expertly in just the right way. He runs his fingers down to your entrance, collecting slick between his pointer and middle finger.

As much as he’s aching to be inside you, he’s gentle, slow even, as he slides his dampened fingers inside of you. You part your legs instinctively, mouth open as you groan. He massages your velveteen walls, enjoying the way you roll your hips to try and bury the two fingers further inside of you. He pulls his hand back, twirling your clit with his thumb, before he slides back in enjoying the wet squelch of your juices against his fingers.

“That wet already?” He sucks his teeth, feigning surprise. He knew what he did to you, and just how to get you worked up. “I’ll make you cum, and then I’ll fuck you so good you won’t even remember your day. Deal?” His voice is like liquid pleasure and it shoots straight to your brain. Your clit twitches against his thumb and all you can make out is a quick nod. “Good.” He speeds up his wrist flicks, and changes his angle so that he each time his fingers disappear inside you, the palm of his hand kisses your clit. You’re a mess, moaning and turning into jelly right in front of you. “Why don’t you cum for me sugar. Cream all over my fingers.” He husks, curling said fingers against your g spot and making you see stars. You tumble over the edge into ecstasy, panting and shaking while your husband praises you softly, tells you how he loves how you cum with that pretty pussy of yours, how sexy your o face is, how he can’t wait to bury himself inside and fuck you dumb.

Katsuki always licks his fingers after he’s helped you ride out your orgasm. He sucks each digit into his mouth, staring you directly in the face with that cocky look in his lust darker irises. When he turns your head in his cum and saliva slick fingers, and presses his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, you shudder, able to taste your own cum in his mouth.

The blond normally likes to tease. Likes to have you at your breaking point before he gives in and fucks you so deeply tears spring into your eyes.

But tonight, he doesn’t. He turns you so he can be the big spoon, pushes his orange boxers down just enough to get his erecting free and slides into you, groaning at how your walls are already fluttering around him as he slowly buries himself to the hilt.

“Oh fuck...” you groan, which puts a cocky smirk on his face. Katsuki takes his time. He’s not fucking tonight, he’s making love to you. Making you feel loose and well loved and appreciated. He presses his lips to the shell or your ear to whisper just how tight you feel, and how good it all is, and how no one else gets him this hard and horny but you and your amazing body and mind god he loves how sharp you are. It had been your quick wit that had drawn him in. He rolls his hips, dragging his cock against your walls in a way that makes you twist free hands in the plush sheets beneath you.

Katsuki is a lot of things, but patient isn’t one of them. You’re more than aware of that, though, and when you feel him start to tremble from holding back, you quietly beg him to take you rough and quick, the way he’s dying to. The sounds of damp skin slapping fill the room. You’re moaning and groaning and keening for him, and that just sets him off more. He’s curses up a storm, and pulling you by the hips into him so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises to match the hickies he’s sucking into the copper skin of your neck.

“Fuck, babe I’m close. Where do you...Shit...where do you want it?” He asks breathlessly, voice raising so you can hear him over your own sounds of pleasure.

“Inside Suki. Cum inside me. Fucking cum inside, please.” You plead between deep suckles of air. Katsuki nods against your neck, mumbling that he’d do anything you ask, anything for you. He slips his hands between your legs and thumbs your clit, quickly sending you into your second orgasm of the night. The way you tighten around him has Katsuki following not long after, hips jerking wildly, only to stop and stutter, as he pumps you full of his cum. He lets out a breathy shudder, sliding his slowly softening dick in and out of you with a very satisfied groan.

Your head spins. There are goosebumps and bruises and hickies dotting your skin now. Katsuki presses his lips to each dark mark in a silent apology as he pulls out with a hiss.

He was right. You don’t remember much of your day anymore. All you can focus on is the familiar ache between your thighs and the way cum slowly drools from inside you, dribbling down your legs.

Katsuki takes care of you, silently. He gets a damp rag from the adjourning bathroom, and delicately wipes you down. Your eyes meet, and he looks like he’s considering something. You tilt your head in a silent question.

“I don’t like telling you what to do.” He hums, looking up at you through foggy eyes. “You should quit. Take some time to just lounge around. I’m sure we can find you a less shit job.” You smile fondly down at him.

“Actually I’m determined to make them regret treating me like shit.” Your determined look makes Katsuki smirk. He pats your thigh, a loving glint in his eyes. “Be the best employee they’ve ever had, so when I quit, they beg me to stay. Make them wish they’d never been rude to me.”

“That’s my fuckin girl.”

Requests are open! Shoot me an ask~

Divders are from @/firefly-graphics

#my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha fanfiction #bnha bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo x black reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo fic #bnha katsuki x reader #mha katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo drabble #98writes #my hero academia smut #this really hit the spot #literally wrote this while falling asleep #dynamight #katsuki bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo x reader

[mymindwide]

I’m gonna heal you

Pairing: Ashton x Female reader

Word count: 2059

Warning: none, this is full on fluff with one mention of a prevoius sexual encounter.

Summary: Your boyfriend fell sick, and you’ll see a side of him you haven’t before, while you two share cute moments because of it.

Author’s Note: It was written more than a year ago. Again something I didn’t think I’ll post, but here we are. :) (If you bump into any grammar mistakes, I apologise in advance, that’s because english is not my native language.) Nevermind, I hope you’ll enjoy it!

***

You have a very bad habit, but at least you’re getting better and better while practicing it.

For a while now when you wake up earlier than Ashton (which is almost every single day), and give him his morning kiss he doesn’t even notice it, and you like it that way. Whatever body part you can reach – it always depends on what position he’s sleeping in at the moment of your waking. Sometimes it’s one of his cheeks, sometimes a shoulder, his neck, his forehead. You couldn’t explain why it’s so important to you, maybe you’re just weird, and like watching and admiring him while he sleeps. Knowing how hard they work, it just feels good to see him not worrying about anything and just having a well-deserved rest, even for a few hours.

But this morning something didn’t feel right, not like usually. As your mouth gently touched his temple, his skin felt strangely hot against your lips. You knew you should check it again, but the thought itself made you sweat, because you were not sure he wouldn’t wake up this time. But you convinced yourself pretty quickly that it’s for the good of him, and if he runs a temperature indeed, he needs to wake up anyway to take something in as soon as possible.

You leaned back again and pressed your lips against his temple, and then you tried it with the back of your right hand while your left one checked your own forehead for comparison. Miraculously he didn’t wake up, or leastways didn’t show any sign of will to move or open his eyes, his breathing remained steady, although at this point you wouldn’t even care, because he definitely had fever. Murmuring a low “fuck”, you headed for the bathroom to pick up the thermometer and went back with it to the seemingly sleeping boyfriend.

“Sweetie, just keep it there and do not move, please. We have to measure your temperature” you put the thermometer in his armpit.

He muttered something with his eyes still closed, but on one hand, you didn’t understand, on the other hand you left him there to check what medication you have in the bathroom cabinet. You were happy to acknowledge that you were fully prepared for such disasters, albeit since you moved in with him, thankfully, you didn’t even need to open the medicine box.

You had a slight guess about the possible outcome of this fever measurement, therefore with quick steps you ran to the kitchen to make a tea for your newfound patient. Coming back you put the tea on the nightstand and reached for the thermometer to reveal the truth. 102,2 Fahrenheit.

“Double fuck” escaped your lips as you looked at the display of the digital thermometer.

“Do we have to? I’m not feeling too well” came a drawn-out groan from Ashton.

“No shit Sherlock…” but of course this assumption made you smile. “I wasn’t talking about wanting to fuck. I’m talking about you having a fever. 102,2 °F actually.”

“Oh” this seemingly woke him up as he pushed himself up on the bed.

“Whatever you were planning to do today with the guys, it is out of the question now. And take these in” dropping an antipyretic and painkiller pill on his palm you gave him the now not so hot cup of tea you’d made.

“Yeah I guess so. I’ll tell them” he said before swallowing the pills.

“I’ll be here if you need anything” you indicated the living room. “Lay back and try to take a rest or sleep back” you pecked his forehead.

You turned back from the doorway just to look at him once again, and the cutest sight caught hold of your eyes. Or leastwise your sick girlfriend heart considered it cute… he was sitting in the same position you left him a few seconds ago and just stared in front of him, wasn’t even blinking, you could almost see his brain still processing the info that he most likely got sick. End of the world. You felt for him, you really did, but he looked so lost it was cute. He looked adorably useless and that’s certainly something you have not seen him yet.

For you the bright side of the situation is that at least you really can be here and look after him, since last night you could cook while he was out with his friends. In the background you heard him run a shower.

“So much for resting… but at least it’ll help him cool that body temperature down a bit, so after all it’s not a bad idea at all” you thought.

You made yourself comfortable on the couch and already decided you’ll watch a movie that is entertaining enough to switch off your brain for a few hours, and you exactly knew which one is the perfect choice that meets your high expectations and requirements.

While you were considering your options Ash finished with the shower too and joined you in the living room wearing his leisure pants and a clean white t-shirt.

“Is everything okay? I mean besides the obvious.” you tilted your head back against the sofa backrest to look up at him.

“I have a headache and I start feeling my throat.”

“Sounds like the definition of miserable.”

“Right?! Thank you.”

“Would you like to join me?” you smiled at him grabbing a pillow from the couch that you laid on your lap tapping it a few times.

You didn’t have to ask him twice; picking up the plush blanket which is constantly lying at the end of the sofa he laid down, wrapped himself under the blanket; his head resting on the pillow in your lap, his posture facing the TV. Your fingers, as a pavlovian reflex, dived into his gorgeous hair, whisking away a few stray curls from his face.

“And what are we doing?”

“I was about to watch the greatest movie of all time.”

“The Pursuit of Happyness?”

“Nope, Avengers: Infinity War.”

“That Hiddleston again.”

“Hon, you know he’s going to be killed off in the 10th minute into the movie, right?” you had to laugh.

“Good. He deserves it.”

“What is it? Do I hear jealousy?” you got bloody happy and started enjoying your conversation even more.

“Abslttthhaa nauh” he mumbled something under his nose that reminded you of absolutely not.

"Last time I checked it's not him who's lying on my lap dying."

"Lucky for him, cuz that'd be the last thing he does..."

“Ashton, you’re killing me” you couldn’t contain your laughter.

“Wasn’t kidding.”

“I know” you grinned as your thumb stroked his cheek.

This new Ashton entertained you more and more. You leaned forward to blow tiny kisses on his temple and yoke bone leading a path to his ear.

“Also, last time I checked it wasn’t him who had his way with me on the kitchen counter the other day…” the tip of your nose brushed his ear as you whispered and the mention of your latest lovemaking made a smug smile spread across his face. “And do you know what else I remember?! I remember moaning a three letter name, but it wasn’t Tom… help me out… oh wait, that’s it, it was Ash...” you were trying to add a slight annoyance to the tone of your voice.

“Convinced enough?”

“I have no strength to disagree” reaching back for your right hand to take it in his, he towed it to his lips and planted a kiss on your wrist. Without saying anything he interlaced your fingers and just pulled it to his chest. As if his grumpiness had been cut off, he nestled a bit to find the perfect and most comfortable position, then got fully relaxed and your left hand slipped back into his hair to caress and massage his scalp, to play with his soft black locks.

“Alright, play it, I want to see if he resurrects for the millionth time” he egged you to press the play button to start the movie.

“Oh, we’ll see…” you smiled insinuatingly.

“You’re just joking, right?” he turned his head upwards to look at you. “No, you’re not. They just can’t get rid of that guy, can they?”

“Get comfortable baby, two and a half hour fun just awaits for us” you winked.

Although you watched the movie together, you were pretty sure Ash's thoughts were going somewhere else since you weren’t even like 40 minutes in, when he started playing with your fingers. Your eyes jumped back and forth from the TV to your hands, but eventually your attention ended up on what he was doing. His fingertips grazed your palm and fingers with slow, tender and deliberate moves; it felt intimate like never before, as if he touched your hand for the first time, he went from finger to finger, as if he wanted to get to know and memorize the shape of your hand, the feel of your skin.

Your first thought was “if he won’t stop I’m gonna cry”. But he didn’t stop and eventually and surprisingly you did not cry either, although this scene undoubtedly made you quite emotional, because you haven’t seen him this cuddly in a long time. He’s an affectionate man, but definitely not a clinging one. And you really enjoyed this situation; sometimes you crave this kind of attention like air.

A few more minutes have passed during which your focus returned back to the screen. You felt his hand stopped playing with yours, and with his eyes closing shut he turned over and nuzzling his face close to your belly he fell asleep pretty quickly. Getting your right hand back, now it could rest on his waist, while your other hand could keep caressing his hair, neck, shoulder, just with extra carefulness not wanting to wake him up.

By the end of the movie he still laid on your lap breathing smoothly, and watching him made you think about him being such a positive force. Not only in your life but so many others’, as well. Family, friends, members of other bands whom they met only sporadically…  You loved listening to their stories about Ash being nice and thoughtful and polite. That’s how he treats people in general, even strangers. It’s so effortless for him, yet you have no idea how he does that.  Always thinks about making others happy, but is he happy? Do you make him happy? You can only hope, because he deserves the world. At this point, an unpleasant feeling put a stop to your train of thought.

As much as you didn’t want to do it, and wished to stay like this forever, it was time for you to stand up since you started feeling your legs getting numb after sitting stock-still for the last two and a half hours.

“Ash” leaning over his face you started caressing his cheek with your nose.

Your technic was clearly successful, because he slowly turned over nuzzling his nose against yours demanding more contact. You kissed his cheek, his nose, the corner of his mouth, while he enjoyed the love showering on him.

Soon your lips met in very light kisses that became needier with every touch from Ashton’s side, as you felt his tongue brush over your upper lip. Your heart ached but you had to pull back an inch ending the connection between your lips resulting in a dissatisfied moan escaping his lips.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but if we go into this deeper, you may risk losing your nurse to a deadly disease” you whispered smiling on his lips.

“I’ll make it up to you… in a few days… when I get better” he said sleepily.

“Make up for what?”

“For the canceled double fuck.”

“I can’t with you, Irwin. I swear to you I’ll lock you up in the bedroom until you sleep enough.” you had to laugh tho.

“But you love me.”

“Yes, yes I do. What a correct observation.”

“Good, because I love you, too.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Now come Captain Obvious, let’s sleep a bit more.”

And with this you took his hand in yours and led him into the paradise of peacefulness that is your hospital room for the next few days.

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #fanfic #fic by me #fic time #fluff

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

EZEKIEL ‘EZ’ REYES x READER ⨟ PROMPT

Anon #1 asked: Wait! You are taking requests!!! Can I please get 46 and 51 with Ez please! I can imagine them at a party or something and he pulls her up with a cute af grin, being all cuddly and sweet!!!

Anon #2 asked: Ezzzzzz with 87 and maybe he whimpers “fuck...” when you do it 👀👀

Anon #3 asked: I’m so sorry, this is the last I swear. 72 and 67 from the prompt list with the youngest Reyes tysm ily!!!!

Anon #4 asked: FUCK, the thought of Ezekiel Reyes telling me I’m a good girl 🥵🥵 I’m wet . I have the biggest praise kink, pls baby, tell me I’m doing so well ! Do you think you could do a little sum for me please 🥵🥺🥺🥺

Prompts:

46. “I wanna dance with you”

51. “You kill me every time you smile”.

72. “Club doesn’t go first”.

67. “You and me, forever”.

87. “Put on my kutte”.

WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUT

Word count: 2.3k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford ✨

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits: @xxrouxx

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“EZ it's okay, don' worry. I understand it”.

“I'm truly sorry, (Y/N). I swear to God”.

“Ezekiel. It's okay. Club goes first”.

“I promise we'll celebrate your birthday as soon as I'm back. I promise. I swear”.

“Hey, boy scout! We're leaving! Stop bitchin'”.

“Yeah! Give me a second!” He replies. “I have to leave you… I'm sorry”.

“Go, EZ. Call me when you're back”.

“I will”.

You can't lie. You're a little upset because he's not going to be in your birthday for first time in seven years. You met him at the jail in Stockton, when you were finishing your studies, working as an auxiliary nurse. You're best friends since then, and it's an special occasion. But at least, you have your other friends to celebrate with.

When they cover your eyes, inside the car, with a bandanna you know it's going to be a crazy night. You don't know anything about your birthday party, and you don't want to think about what they have been able to prepare. You just wait in silence to the car to stop. And when it does and Monique helps you to go out of it, you hear some murmurs claiming for silence. She guides you with both hands on your shoulders, until you're in the middle of the dark.

“Ok, wait! Don't take it off yet!” She says, listening how her steps go away from you. “Ok! NOW!”

You break in laugh, pulling down the bandanna, until you notice where you are.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

The whole crew is in the front yard of the clubhouse, reunited with your friends from work and your housemates. Your eyes are filling with tears, watching EZ running towards you to lift you up on his arms. You hug him tightly, wrapping his waist with your legs.

“Fuck, you're so dumb! I thought you weren't gonna believe me”.

He's laughing, infecting you, while he covers your face with a lot of kisses all around.

“Happy birthday, enfermera”.

“You fucking idiot!” You say pouting and hitting one of his shoulders, when your feet are back on the ground.

“Eh! Don' need to be this aggressive, just because it's your birthday!”

“I hate you…”

“Hey, club doesn't go first”. He whispers right in your ear, holding you tightly. “Do you remember what I said once, ah?”

“You and me, forever”.

“That's right. And now… let's enjoy the night”.

So you do. There are a lot of meat that Felipe brought, latin music flooding the crowded yard, beers going from one side to another, your friends dancing with the Mayans. Bishop has ask you for a dance. That man is like your father since you put a foot in his club, and he's pretty good with salsa. But when the song changes to another more sensual, the president pushes you into EZ. He's sitting next to Angel and Gilly, watching you the whole time with that charming smile he's always wearing when you're together.

Your hips moving to the beat, letting yourself go without worries, with sensual and delicate moves. You know how much the skirt of your dress is provoking him, because of the obvious romantic and sexual tension between both since ever, always keeping a secure distance to not fuck up your friendship. But you have had more tequila than you can afford. He reclines on the chair, enjoying the show, while his brothers speak oblivious to the situation. Licking his lips, EZ chuckles supporting the beer over a thigh rubbing his chin while you come closer.

“I want you to dance with me”. You say offering a hand that he doesn't doubt to grab.

Leaving away his drink, EZ lets you guide him to the middle of the makeshift dance floor. His chest stuck on your back, moving your waist to the rhythm of the song, and your arms raised up, back to his nape. His breathing colliding against your neck, following every move so close you can hear his heartbeat. His scent filling your lungs, his lips caressing your skin. You don't even know which song is playing, because dancing with him is in the only thing you're focusing on.

Closing your eyes, you feel his hands going down slowly by your sides to reach the folds of the skirt, raising it some inches, dragging gently his fingers above your skin bristling it.

“Fuck… Stop playing with ma' mind”. He begs you leaving a soft kiss on your neck.

You just laugh tangling your hands with his, turning to face him, too close of his lips. Almost touching them.

“No”.

“I hate you”. He mutters placing his hands on your lower back, smirking so naturally that makes your legs tremble a little.

“You kill me every time you smile”.

“Really…? Then, erase it from my face”. He challenges you with a too sensual hoarsely tone.

You kiss him. No doubts doing it. His lips tastes so good, that almost dizzy you. You can feel the same necessity he has to happen, as you have. Many years enduring it. And it's finally happening. Your fingers caressing the back of his head slowly, contrary to how your mouth works against his. Your tongue finding the other so desperate you don't mind the shortness of air. You know that everybody is looking at you sideways, not wanting to interrupt the moment, and you don't even care.

“Fuck… now I have two birthday presents to give you”. EZ chuckles, touching his nose with yours in a dearly gesture.

“And what are you waitin' for, Ezekiel?”

The Mayan twists his head, biting his tongue with a naughty smile drawn on his lips. He has that look on his face he could use after killing someone and before adopting a puppy from the dog kennel. Now it also means he's going to show you how much he desires you. Holding your hand, he guides you to the clubhouse, under some claps and whistles from the guys. Of course they felt the tension, since ever, and they also are like five years old. Bad combination. They stop making noise when you cross the hall, right to the dorms.

You know pretty well that room. It isn't the first time you sleep there, after a long day at the hospital, a nap on a day off… Always with EZ. He closes the door when you two are already inside, pushing you with his body to the bed and his hands cupping your face in. He's on top of you, one of his legs among yours, on of yours between his rubbing the erection under his jeans. His tongue fighting yours desperate, while his calloused hands go below the white dress, dragging them on your thighs making you moan low. His fingers reach the waistband of your panties stretching it slightly, biting his lips with your attentive orbs over his.

“Joder, joder, joder…” He curses in spanish. “Fuck… stop me… Please, stop me”.

Yes, you think that could break your friendship, but it's the fear talking. Not reality.

“EZ, I want you. Since ever”. You sentence, leaning up to catch out his breath by kissing him, too hungry for his lips.

He doesn't need anything else to put down your panties, until finding the floor. His right hand ventures among your thighs and the heat that emanates from there, growling in your neck when he reaches your center.

“Shit, baby…” He sighs sliding a finger inside you, making you gasp low right on his ear. “Should be illegal be this wet…”

“And it's your fault”. You quickly highlight, biting his lobe.

EZ wants to enjoy it, to make it slowly for you. But he has wait for too long. Digging his finger among your folds, rough and deep, he rubs his hardness against your knee anxious for feeling some friction. And you're not going to keep containing yourself, using your natural tone of voice to moan, not caring a fuck if the crew and your friends hear you. You want to show him how bad you need him. A second finger gets curled inside you, exploring your wetness masterfully, while his mouth devours yours with the taste of tequila driving you crazy.

But he needs more. So you do.

Much to your regret, after some seconds, he pulls them away to take off your dress above your head, showing him your bare breasts. Ezekiel is fascinated, having you naked when he's fully dressed, under his mercy and his desires.

“You're so fuckin' beautiful, baby”. He growls before catching one of your nipples with his teeth, stretching it up some inches before sucking it gently.

You're squirming below his caresses, spreading your legs to accommodate him between them. Now you can feel how hard he is, thrusting you with the fabric of his jeans rubbing your clit so delicious you could cum like that. Your hands takes off the kutte leaving it by a side of the mattress, taking the advantage of doing the same with his shirt. Ezekiel is so hot, you can't deny that fact, starting to lose control. His long fingers undone his belt and his jeans, undressing himself as fast as you need it.

“Put on my kutte, baby. I wanna see you wearing it and riding me”. He whispers against your lips, biting them dearly, watching him sideways jerking himself off.

You don't say anything sitting up on the bed to do it. And you have to recognize that looks good on you. Eze rest his back against the wall, after throwing away the pillow to get comfortable, looking you while he continues stroking his cock. You can see the veins in his arms marking the toasted skin, licking your lips, being one of your weak points in life. His hands and his arms. Crawling on top of his lap, he plays with his glans among your folds, showing you the smile that makes you feel more wet.

“Fuck, baby… Look at you”. He soughs, while the tip of your tongue tours up his chin and mouth. “Take it all, my Mayan. It's all yours”.

That sounds so good, drowning your legs down, digging his dick inside you.

“Shit, Ezekiel! You're so big…”

“Do you like it, ah?”

“Yes… baby. Yes…”

“Ride that big cock, cariño. C'mon… Ride me”. He begs you, kissing your neck with short ones licking your skin.

Your hips start to bounce his hardness, discovering you can go deeper as much as you spread your legs. His hands nailed on your waist with both thumbs pressing your abdomen, keeping your eyes with his and parted lips. His erection hits your soul every time you jump by a frenetic and constant dance of pleasure, feeling his teeth biting your collarbone and his tongue drawing some bruises above it.

“Shit… just like that, mi vida… justamente así. Such a good girl...”

Ez's voice lost in what you make him feel is everything for you, claiming for more, begging for your warm pussy welcoming him delighted. He creates a road of bites, starting under your chin, sucking it slowly until he reaches your mouth. His tongue explores it finding yours in a filthy and dirty kiss, slapping your ass without expecting, thrice with part of his strength. Arching your anatomy and leaning your head back softly you let your heavy moans flood the dorm, before he turns you over the bed. With Ezekiel on top of you, he grabs your thighs to open your legs as much as you can handle it.

“You wan'me deeper, cariño?”

“And faster… Fuckin' kill me, Ez”.

“Can you keep your legs opened for me, baby girl, ah?”

“Yeah… I promise, daddy”. You nod, getting desperate because he's moving his body to slow.

One of his big callous hands grabs tightly your throat, surrounding your back with the free one. And he does it. He goes deeper. Deliciously deep, with his abdomen hitting your wetted folds once and again, harder than the last. You're almost out of air crying out his name and some spanish curses every time he pounds you, maintaining your gaze burning in lust and pleasure. He wants to kiss you more than anything in the world, but he also wants to see your face and all the gestures your draw in it unconsciously, because of his cock thrusting your g-spot.

Biting his lower lip, Ez nails his knees on the mattress without pulling his dick out of you, but raising your trembling legs to his shoulders before lie down on top of you again. This position is new for you, but after the first push you know it's going to be one of your favorites.

“Wan'me to make you cum, mi amor?”

“Please, daddy, please…”

He chuckles giving you a smooth kiss, tangling your hands on his forearms. The rhythm becomes speedy and intensive, feeling the tickles in your low belly as you start to cry out rolling your eyes in white, when the orgasm wraps your body under his grip. He keeps going with every pound, seeing how red is part of his chest and neck because of the effort, starting to growl when he finds your lips again in a needy kiss begging you to hold for him just a few more seconds. You could wait for EZ all your life.

“Can I… cum inside you?” He asks you as well as he can, somewhat exhausted, close to the edge.

“Fuck… to bring another Reyes?”

He can't help but break into laughs, stopping his moves, as you do. The laughters floods the room for a second, imagining how bad could be for the world, but how good could be for you two. Of course, you've never talked about it. But, having a family together? You're in. And Ez is totally in too.

“Let's set the world on fire, mi vida”. He chuckles, lowering your legs to his waist to pound you again.

His body digging into your legs with somekind of fury, pinching your ass in the meantime of his cock punches your pussy without nonstop. He was so close, he can't even expect his warm jizz completely filling you with a hoarse and throaty moan, drilling your ears.

“Shit, baby…”

He falls deadbeat on your chest, whilst your fingers caressing the back of his neck, getting a little wet because of the sweat your bodies are wrapped in. Slowly pulling himself out, inside of your legs, he kisses a little tired your lips.

There's no hall of shame when you come back to the crowded yard, after having a short shower together, sitting on EZ's chair by you on his lap. Angel brings you a beer with pursed lips in a smile, not needing to use any words to make you know how proud he feels of you finally being his sister-in-law. He cheers your drink with his, before sitting again on his own chair. Resting your left temple on Ezekiel's shoulder, you have a sip of yours getting comfy against his body. His hand touring your thighs gently, joining the talk between his friends like if nothing happened seconds ago, taking pleasure of having you so, so close.

And you can't help, seeing him smile, but grabbing his chin with two fingers to lean him down so you can kiss him again. You feel like an addict, and by the way he has to drag his hand on your skin, he is too.

“I'm… assuming you wanna be my girl”. He mutters caressing your nose with the tip of his.

“Well, I need a Reyes to handle with a baby one”.

He chuckles shaking his head and closing both eyes for a while.

“Would you… really like it? The idea of having a baby with an ex-con, part of a motorbike cl—?”

“The idea of having a family with my intelligent, handsome, and super interesting bestfriend? Yes, Ezekiel. I would love it”.

“You forgot to say ‘best chef in the world’”.

“And best lover”.

“My ego es happy right now”.

“Good, that's one of my missions”.

“Te amo”. He whispers, hearing a loud ‘aw’ coming from Bishop, Tranq and Taza. The oldest with the most childish minds of all.

You laugh loud curling your legs above your boyfriend, hugging you tightly and filling your face with kisses.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader

[ajokeformur-ray]

Dracika headcanons ~ 🖤🦇

Y E S, I’m back on my bullshit (like I ever stopped😂) and this is me feeling my way with Dracula and seeing what he and I have together; as well as sharing some moments we’ve already had with each other in the time we’ve known each other.

Full disclosure: I am well aware that he would snap my neck and drink me like a capri sun in reality without a second thought. I know that we are 100% incompatible but I really don’t care. Believing that Drac would be, at least, fond of me makes me go 🥺😭🥺😭💖✨💖✨🥰💖✨ so that’s all that matters skskskskks. I’m so sorry if anyone’s sick of this, I really do understand, but I like to have all my self-shipping stuff on the same blog, which is why I’m posting it here and not on my side blog (on which requests for him are open👀).

Word count: 2, 421.

OMG MY UWUS ARE DROPPED I’M SOFT I’M CRY I’M LOVE 🥺😭🥺😭💜💜💜 LOOK AT HIMMMMM ~ 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I legitimately can’t stop staring I’m captivated someone help but also leave me here... I’m suffering but I’m enjoying it... 🥺

As yet, Dracula and I haven’t spent too much time together. We’re still very much wondering what’s going on and why it’s going on and how everything is going to work. All we’re really aware of at this stage is that, for some reason, we’re drawn to each other. We’ve mostly just been... watching each other and getting to know one another through observation and gut instinct rather than... sitting down and talking. I think this is how it will be for the most part with us, though. We’re an odd dynamic but the both of us are quickly growing to like it.

He and I don’t spend much... time together, at least not yet as I’ve already said, but we spend a lot of time in the same room. I’ll do my thing and he will do his thing and occasionally one of us will glance over at the other. Quizzical looks are exchanged and Drac may ask if I’m all right, but other than that, we don’t talk, either. We’ve been silent company to one another for much of this time. I think that may be the main part of our dynamic - comfortable silence. I don’t really know what to say to a five hundred year old vampire because I don’t want to make my stupidity as a person with a lack of life experience obvious and Drac prefers to not talk at all when he’s busy doing something. He very clearly expresses his irritation at this through his body language and I’m not so good at handling when people are annoyed at me so I’d just rather not speak unless I have to.

When I go to bed, I always ask Drac to join me. He could come into my bed without an invitation, but as he puts it, “consent is unnecessary but delicious” so he waits for me to ask him. It never takes me long and tbh I’m not fully comfortable going to bed, especially with my night time phobias, without him there in the room with me anyway. As soon as I’m lying down and comfortable, Drac’s standing at the foot of my bed. He’ll crawl up my mattress (my bed’s against the wall so when I’m already in bed he has no other way of coming in unless he wants to climb over me and that’s too graceless for him) and I’ll pull the covers back for him. He slides in so quickly that my very squeaky mattress (it’s in desperate need of being replacing but I can’t afford it) doesn’t make any kind of noise. “Oh, bedtime for the human, is it?" My only answer is to turn and nestle my face into his chest. He wraps his arms around me and sleep finds me quickly. If I try to look around the room, he’ll hold my head where it is with a hand and he won’t let me look. He reasons the more I look, the more scared I’ll become, so he’d rather prevent me from looking at all. He’s the most dangerous creature in any room, anyway.

During the day, Drac sleeps so, of course, I’m left alone. He lays down with me when I go to bed and he leaves when I’m finally asleep (700 position changes and a deal with Satan later😂), but when I get up, he’s beside me and now I’m the one leaving when he’s finally asleep. I sleep when I’m tired and I don’t have much of a sleeping schedule so it’s not unusual for me to be up until four or sometimes five in the morning, and a bonus to this is that I get to spend more time with him. The nights are just for us; when the world slips away, he and I find each other.

When I’m away from Drac and I’m missing him or just needing his energy around me, I wear this jumper. It’s a small inside joke between us.

Drac’s reaction to my jumper was:

He appreciates the way it’s spelt (and so do I) and he’s been eager to get me out of it.👀

Drac is 6′4 and I’m 5′7 so the height difference is... amusing. At least to him. He calls me his “little bat” when I’m going to sleep or when I’m being cuddly (a luxury he doesn’t allow often; it’s usually saved for when I’m in some kind of distress), and when he’s feeling romantic or apologetic, he calls me “luna bella”.

He and I go on nightly walks down the beach together. I love to walk along the three metre high wall so I can properly feel the wind in my hair and some semblance of freedom, and if I lose my balance, he’ll just chuckle and tell me to be careful. Not in as many words but he’ll make a quip about the fragility of mortals and it sends the message through. If I do fall, he’ll catch me before I do. All of me is safe with Count Dracula. He likes to say he won’t catch me but I pretended to slip properly once just to see what he would do and he reacted very quickly so I think it’s safe to say he’s full of shit.😂

I got very attached to him, very quickly once I got over my fear. Even when I’m with him, I miss him, and Drac can always pick up on it. He finds it hilarious and doesn’t understand why I miss him despite our closeness a lot of the time, but there’s no way to explain it. Even so, I know he misses me too, because he’s with me more often than we’re away from each other. Drac has an odd love language but I’m slowly coming to learn him.

The night I realised I wasn’t scared anymore and I wanted him with me, I called him to me. All I had to do was say his name, and he was there. He was obviously in the area and he must have heard me from close by. I was in bed, ready to sleep, and he waited for me to speak. His eyebrows were raised and there was a slight smirk on his face.

“Can you...can you stay with me? I’m not scared of you anymore but I also... don’t really know what to do.”

“You don’t know what to do, so you called me? Are you really not afraid of me?” His smirk kept widening, as did that look in his eye.

I hesitated but I still said, “not anymore.” and I pulled the duvet back on the side which would become his. “Join me?”

“This is a surprise. I did not see this coming.” He could smell my weariness but we didn’t speak much after that point. He laid down beside me and I slowly, carefully moved to cuddle him. And by that I mean I smushed myself into his side and he let me, but he didn’t reciprocate.😅😂

Drac tried to move away just at the point I was on the edge of sleep and I clung to him; I wouldn’t let him leave me. I had to show I trusted him, the way he wanted me to, and I guess falling asleep beside him was the best way to do so.

I kept moving around and it irritated him so eventually he tugged me to lay on top of him... he wrapped his arms around me and held me to him. His cold embrace is the safest cage I’ve ever been in. I woke and he wasn’t there but I could feel his energy around me. He won’t ever leave.

I don’t think he could ever love me, not in the way I love him, but I know he’s very fond of me and that’s enough. The fact that he is with me as often as he is, is proof enough that he, at least, has a soft spot for me.

I show him every day that I love him because I don’t really know how to say it to him. He’s five hundred years old so the usual methods of confession seem a bit... pointless. He needs more than words. I do this in subtle ways... for example, having my hair slung over my shoulder and I’ll lay down on it so my neck is bared. I fall asleep on him. I ask him to be with me while I sleep. He has free-for-all consent to drink from me but as yet, he hasn’t. I suspect it’s because he dislikes coffee...🤔😂

Usually, I lay atop Drac when we cuddle, but there’s been a few times he lays on me. Sometimes I’ll wake in the night and he’s looming over me. My lamp looks like a golden halo around the top of his head, and in my sleepy state I loop my arms around his neck and tug him down. He could so easily break out of my hold but he doesn’t. He lets me tug him down and I snuggle into him and press kisses all over his neck, leaving mock bites. He appreciates the irony.

Dracula calls “darling” or “my love”. He never uses my name; it’s always a term of endearment. I’m not sure why. If he’s telling me to do something, then it’s “dear”; comfort is “darling”, and the other names are as I’ve said.

I only call him “Drac”... “Dracula” if he’s annoying me. “My love” is a general term of endearment; we share a like for that one. Sometimes... and mostly at night (our real time together), I call him “my Drac”. It makes him smile... I don’t get much of a reaction, just a twitch of his lips, but I adore it.

When I’m upset, Drac doesn’t hold me. He doesn’t shush me or try to comfort me. He just... stays. With every passing moment, he takes a step closer until he’s standing right beside me and then he allows me to take whatever comfort I need. He’s not entirely sure how to comfort me, we’re still learning each other, but he follows my lead. As long as he’s in the room, as long as he’s close by, I can usually pull myself together on my own; I’m used to doing that so it saves him the effort. If I talk, he listens. If I don’t talk, he speaks. Whatever I need, he’ll do. He can read me well. I’m still learning him; there’s multiple options to everything he does and says and I love that about him.

With me being afraid of the dark and Drac being afraid of the light, I’d say we’re perfect for each other.😂

And speaking of...

Both of us know and live with fear far more than we should. We have our reasons (which are illogical), and the fear we see in one another is partly why we’re so drawn to each other. I recognise the fear in him (it’s the opposite of my own fear) and he recognises mine. We understand each other on this level and we do what we can to keep each other safe. 

I definitely have a Protecc™ streak for Drac; my blackout curtains are perfect for keeping him safe, and though Drac hates my night light, which makes it daylight in my room, he never wants a repeat of that one night last week so he accepts it. He knows I’m scared sometimes even with the light, so he holds me tight and he won’t let me go. 

Both of us are exposed to our fears every day and both of us face them anyway. We’re brave on our own but together it feels like we only increase that strength.

He’s so cute🥺.

He picks up on how the modern world works through consuming the blood of others’ (which I wilfully turn a blind eye to lmao I’m not about to tell him who he can and can’t eat; my morality has always been grey), but I help him with it too. Sometimes I can’t explain stuff to him so I’ll just show him what I’m talking about. He’s a quick learner. We watch Netflix every night together and sometimes he’ll take Poe or Wilde off my bookshelf and read me to sleep. I love his voice so much.

I love him. He’s safety from my fear in the dark. When I go to bed at night, I always consider sleeping in the dark but he sits on my bed and watches me. “That’s it, turn the light off. You’ll only turn it back on again. That’s what you do, that’s what you always do. What’s the point, darling? Just come lay down a while.”

Dracula is safety and comfort. He’s a smile and laughter because he’s very sassy. There’s something... about him which makes me mentally sleepy. I don’t know how to explain it but he just... makes me want to relax. I do relax when I’m with him and I think that’s why I spend time with him as often as I do, and why I’ve re-watched his series about eleven times in two weeks (to date).

He used to scare me (and he’s been warned that if he ever jumps out at me like he’s known to do to others, he will bring that back temporarily. He’s also been warned not to raise his voice at me, for the same reasons) but now he just makes me feel safe and relaxed and comfortable.

One day, Drac will step into the light and I will step into the dark. And in the space between us where the shadow lies, our hands will join, our fingers will interlock... and we’ll walk forth into what’s next together.

He came into my life at a time when my fear was and is at an all time high, and I think he’s here with me to help me to learn to deal with it. Maybe along the way, I can do the same for him. No one deserves to live in fear and isolation for 500 years, no matter what their dietary requirements are.

I love all of Dracula. I can say that with complete confidence now; I cried out of love for him earlier today and when I sleep tonight, I’ll tell him. Whether he loves me, I have no idea, but I think... I may be someone who’s gotten closer to him than anyone else has for a very long time.

#dracika #self-shipping

[artificialqueens]

Off Limits, Chapter 5 (Bitney) - Veronica, Albatross

A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order.)

Chapter Summary: Courtney obsesses about the previous night, and finally demands some real answers from Bianca. (With a brief cameo from Shea as the Lesbian Whisperer.)

Thanks as always to our lovely beta and Executive Vice President of That’s So Aussie™️, @opalescent-cheetah. (Yes, that’s a promotion.)

***

Courtney stirred, rolling into the scent of Bianca’s shampoo on the pillow, eyes fluttering open. She blinked, slightly confused, before realizing that she was in the bed alone. Sitting up on her elbows, she saw Bianca at her desk, hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, black-framed glasses on her face, reddish-brown hair pulled into a messy bun. Courtney smiled slightly; as beautiful as she found Bianca when she was dolled up and looking like a million bucks, there was always something sweet and comforting about seeing her like that.

“Hi,” Courtney said, biting her lip.

“Hey.” Bianca barely glanced her way, turning a page in her textbook.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yup.”

Courtney cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious, becoming more and more aware of the fact that Bianca clearly didn’t want to talk. She thought, the night before, that they’d finally made some progress. That they were finally a small step closer to becoming...whatever they were supposed to.

But now, in the harsh light of day, she wasn’t so sure. After a few more moments of awkward silence, Courtney got the hint, swinging her legs off the side of the bed and gathering up her dress, shoes, and bag.

“Um...I’ll wash your T-shirt and get it back to you-”

“Thanks.”

Courtney let out a little sigh and exited, crossing through the living room, startled by Alaska’s voice saying, “Morning,” from the sofa.

“Lasky!” Courtney exclaimed, surprised. “Did you sleep here?”

“Yeah,” came the quiet, drawn-out reply. “I didn’t want to intrude on whatever...you guys had going on.”

Eyes widening in sympathy and guilt, Courtney rushed over to the couch to apologize.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” she cried, flinging herself onto the couch.

“It’s okay,” Alaska assured her with a remarkably sincere smile before inquiring, “How’d you sleep? It’s so hard to imagine Bianca being all cuddly.”

Feeling her cheeks beginning to grow warm, Courtney glanced away with a soft smile as she mentioned vaguely, “She was alright.” Then thinking better of it, added in a rushed, “Nothing happened, by the way.”

“Uh huh. That’s what she said,” Alaska said with an indulgent nod, then admitted slyly, “I didn’t really believe her, though.”

Cocking her head to the side, Courtney asked, “Do you believe me? Because nothing…” she forced herself to repeat, trying not to sound bitter, “nothing happened.”

It wasn’t just the “nothing happening” that made Courtney feel frustrated. It was also how easily she’d chickened out and let Bianca off the hook the second she’d realized that she wasn’t angry. She was so relieved that things were okay between them that she’d stopped pressing her for any real answers. And this morning, it seemed like her window for any kind of honesty had slammed shut. Bianca’s walls were up once again, and maybe they always would be.

“It honestly doesn’t matter what I believe,” Alaska informed her, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. She plastered on a reassuring smile as she stressed, “As long as you’re good.”

“I’m good,” Courtney affirmed just a little too loudly and quickly. “I just feel so bad that you had to crash out here. You could have had your bed. Or my bed!”

“It’s fine,” Alaska laughed. “Besides, there’s never any way of telling what kind of creature Willam’s gonna bring home from the club.”

Giggling away at the light jab, Courtney agreed, “That’s true…” Still, her guilt persisted despite the attempt at deflection and she had to backtrack, “Anyway...I’m sorry.”

A hint of sadness tinged Alaska’s voice as she shook her head and admitted with a rueful grin, “It’s really fine, I promise. Sleeping on the couch is not the worst thing that happened to me last night. Not by a longshot.”

The statement caught Courtney’s attention immediately but before she even had the presence of mind to question her further, the sound of her and Willam’s bedroom door being opened pulled her focus away from Alaska. In an undeniable state of anger, Willam marched straight from the bedroom towards the bathroom, all but slamming that door shut to boot.

As if to confirm Courtney’s growing suspicions of a falling out, Alaska immediately brought a hand to her head and let her shoulders sink in defeat. Clearly something unpleasant had happened at the club.

Placing a consoling hand to her roommate’s shoulder, Courtney carefully inquired, “Are you okay?” When no response came, her voice dipped even softer as she asked, “Did something happen? Do you need to talk-”

Straightening her slumped shoulders and slapping on a shaky smile, Alaska attempted to ease her concerns. “No no, don’t worry. I’m just being dramatic.”

Though far from convinced, Courtney knew it’d be best not to press the conversation any further. Nodding her head, she gave an agreeable, “Okay,” and let the topic drop. Before she left Alaska alone however, she pulled her in for a tight, comforting squeeze and assured her, “I’m here if you change your mind.”

She received a grateful nod of the head, but other than that, Alaska gave no indication she would take Courtney up on the offer. Not that Courtney blamed her. She doubted if she could even bring herself to fully discuss the mess she had gotten herself into with Bianca. So leaving the situation as it was, Courtney slipped into her bedroom to curl up and try to forget what a mess she’d made of things. Which turned out to be far easier said than done.

***

Courtney couldn’t focus during rehearsal. All she could think about was Bianca, and their stupid, confusing game of hot and cold. Even though it seemed like they made up, her icy demeanor this morning made Courtney unsettled. And worse, every time Courtney closed her eyes, she saw that look on her face in the bathroom. That intense, angry glare.

She’d seen Bianca angry before, but it had never been directed at her, and remembering it made her feel as weak and insecure as it had last night.

And then on the other hand, there was Adore. Being with her had been such a relief. No games, no guessing, just a beautiful and charming girl who wanted her and wasn’t afraid to show it. And in her arms, at least in the beginning before Bianca ruined everything, Courtney felt so good. So why was that one look, those few angry words, enough to stop all of Courtney’s fun? Prevent her from enjoying a casual hook-up with a compliant, enthusiastic, sexy stranger.

She couldn’t help wondering if Bianca would have done the same thing had Adore been a man. Not that there’d been much likelihood of that happening. At least, not last night. But was Adore right? Was she just jealous? It certainly seemed like that was part of the story.

So, she stumbled through ‘Wilkommen,’ mind spinning, and then completely blanked on the choreography during ‘Don’t Tell Mama.’

During the break, she slumped against the wall, sighing, trying her best to breathe deeply and get her shit together, when a hand on her shoulder made her look up.

It was Shea, a senior who was playing the Emcee, who had clearly noticed her fuck-ups, because she had a concerned look on her face as she asked, “Rough day, huh?”

“Um, yeah,” Courtney admitted. “Soz.”

“Don’t apologize. We all have our shit. Wanna talk about it?” Shea asked.

“Well...it’s complicated. I’m kind of having an issue with this...girl I like,” Courtney said, surprised at how easily the words rolled off her tongue.

“My specialty,” Shea told her, grinning wryly. “Go on…”

Courtney bit her lip. It could be good to unburden herself. It had certainly felt good to confess her feelings to Adore last night. So she took a deep breath, the whole story tumbling out quickly.

“She’s my roommate. And like, things have always been a bit...confusing. She flirts with me constantly, but it’s always in a way where it seems like she’s half kidding. And for awhile, that was fun, but lately it’s like she’s been pulling away, which is just-” Courtney sighed, trying to hold back tears as she continued. “She keeps finding ways to basically tell me that she doesn’t want anything more than friendship. So, fine, I got the hint. But then yesterday...”

Courtney trailed off. Somehow recounting the story made her even more unsure. Was she really seeing any of this clearly?

“Yeah?” Shea prodded.

“Well...we were at Sierra’s, and I met this girl, and I really liked her, and it was just...easy, you know?”

“An easy girl at Sierra’s? Sounds like a perfect night to me,” Shea said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, it would have been. But then Bianca like, interrupted us, because according to her, she was concerned that I was too drunk. I don’t know, she really got into my head, and we fought, and then I couldn’t enjoy it anymore. So I ended up leaving the club and we made up. I think? I fell asleep in her bed, and it was...I don’t know, it felt almost like we’d had some kind of a breakthrough. But now today she’s being weird again. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you...okay, keep in mind that this might be a radical suggestion,” Shea said, “But have you considered talking to her? Maybe telling her how you feel?”

“I’ve tried!” Courtney exclaimed. “I’ve tried so many times. Or...I don’t know, it feels like I’ve tried.”

“Have you tried...while you’re wearing that?” Shea asked, eyes looking down pointedly at Courtney’s rehearsal clothes, a skimpy spaghetti-strap tank top and pair of tiny shorts. When she met Courtney’s eyes again, there was a wicked smirk on her face.

Courtney laughed, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.

“I’m not kidding,” Shea insisted.

“I appreciate your support,” Courtney giggled.

“Look. Go home, don’t change-”

At that, Courtney laughed again.

“And tell her how you fuckin’ feel,” Shea finished. “Open the door, invite her in...so to speak. If nothing else, then at least you’ll know that you were honest.”

“Well...you’re not actually the first one to give me that advice.” Courtney recalled Adore last night, telling her practically the same thing.

“There you go. Time to listen. Also...try to relax and forget about this shit while you’re here.” Shea slung an arm around her shoulder, continuing bluntly, “Or you’re gonna keep forgetting the choreo and Jonathan’s gonna replace your ass.”

Later, as Courtney walked home, she found herself getting more and more convinced that this was all just a giant misunderstanding. There had been so many signs. So many moments when Courtney was certain that Bianca liked her. And she became more and more determined to finally crack through Bianca’s walls.

How to do it was another question entirely. But she supposed that listening to Shea and keeping the short shorts on wouldn’t hurt.

***

Bianca knew that she’d brought this situation upon herself. She knew from the beginning, really, that she was in dangerous territory. But she’d blithely ignored the signs, the red flags, everything telling her that she needed to reign it in--and now, of course, everything was a mess.

Part of her was a bit resentful. Why should she have to deprive herself of some healthy fun? It wasn’t her fault that her straight (okay, bicurious, if she was honest) roommate found her so goddamn irresistible. She hadn’t done anything wrong--just some playful flirting, which she’d been clear from the beginning wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. She’d actually gone out of her way to overstate the boundaries.

But the smarter part...the more realistic part, knew that she was slightly full of shit. Knew that she’d done nothing, really, to stop the runaway train. And worse, that she’d allowed the situation at Sierra’s to get the better of her; her reaction to Courtney and Adore was entirely inappropriate and totally unjustified. She’d managed to squirm out of the conversation last night, probably due mostly to Courtney’s convenient intoxication. And this morning, too, managed to avoid any direct, uncomfortable questions. But Courtney wasn’t dumb, or a pushover, and she knew those questions would come sooner or later.

Bianca hated uncertainty. And right now, everything felt uncertain, which was both aggravating and deeply unsettling. The only good thing today had going for it was that by noon, everyone had left, and she had the place to herself.

Taking a long, relaxing bath when you share a bathroom with 3 other girls is a rare luxury. Unfortunately, in spite of the privacy and severely depleting her Lush supply, Bianca felt no better after her extended soak. She tried another tactic as the tub drained: vigorous exfoliation in the shower, scrubbing her body from head to toe until her skin felt raw. Unsurprisingly, that didn’t help either. Whatever was bothering her was clearly more than skin deep.

She emerged from the steamy bathroom still anxious, still defeated. And so, finally resigned, she slunk back to her bedroom and pulled out a book that her Global Communications professor had recommended, settling onto her bed and hoping to at least get something productive done today.

The soft knock on her door a little while later made her stomach drop. Shit.

“Come in,” she said, resigned to the fact that this was happening, folding down the page she was on and sliding her book onto the dresser.

Courtney pushed open the door, hesitating slightly. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, like she’d been hurrying in the chilly autumn air, and she was dressed in distractingly skimpy rehearsal clothes.  

“Are you busy? I wanted to talk.”

“Nope.” Bianca tried to sound nonchalant, crossing her legs and tilting her head innocently. “What’s on your mind, dollface?”

Courtney strode forward and sat on the bed.

“Last night.”

“Yes?”

“Well. You said that you were worried that I’d drank too much. Right?”

“Yeah, I thought that you were-”

“But then why were you so mad?” Courtney’s direct, unwavering gaze made Bianca slightly uncomfortable.

“Well…”

“Because you weren’t acting concerned. You weren’t acting like you were worried about a friend’s safety. You were acting angry.” Courtney didn’t wait for her to respond before adding pointedly. “Some might even say jealous.”

She folded her arms, waiting for Bianca’s answer.

Bianca said nothing, instead choosing to stare at her with an expression just shy of a glare. In a way, she’d been prepared for this line of questioning. After all, she’d been there. She knew what happened. But she wasn’t prepared for the questions to come this fast, be this direct.

This was a whole new side of Courtney. No longer the soft, agreeable little doll that she’d become accustomed to. The girl staring at her was unapologetic, prepared to take no shit. It made Bianca panic; and when Bianca panicked-

“We're done with this,” Bianca declared stonily, reaching for her book.

Courtney stopped her, actually jumped up and snatched the book out of her reach.

“No, we're not!”

“Courtney,” Bianca said warningly. She expected that and a fierce glare to be enough for Courtney to back off, yet to her mild surprise Courtney merely shook her head.

“We need to talk about this. I deserve an answer.”

“There's nothing to fucking talk about!” Bianca shouted in spite of trying to keep her voice steady and emotionless. “I already told you why and if you don't want to believe me, that’s on you. Now give me my book.”

She held her hand out expectantly, determined not to give up without a fight.

Exasperated, Courtney tossed the book aside and cried out, “Why do you keep pretending that it didn't happen?”

“What didn't happen?” came Bianca’s mocking reply.

“That you got jealous!” Courtney snapped back, then paused, taking a breath before admitting, “And I get it, okay? I was too, after I saw you flirting with that ranga.”

“What’s a ranga? Is that so Aussie?” Bianca asked with a devious grin.

“Don’t try to be cute. The redhead you were talking to. At the tables?”

Bianca frowned, trying to remember, then realized who Courtney meant. “Oh…her...”

“Yeah, her.”

“That was a two-minute conversation,” Bianca said defensively.

“Well...” Courtney began, chewing on her lip, fingers nervously fidgeting as she continued, “That’s the point. I saw that and it made me feel...I don’t know, jealous and hurt, even though I knew that wasn’t really justified, or fair to you. You’re allowed to flirt with whoever you want, right?”

A tightness began to creep into Bianca’s throat. Was Courtney saying what it sounded like she was saying?

“But, then Adore started paying attention to me and suddenly I felt okay again,” she continued, and inexplicable anger took over, crushing the hope that had begun to bloom in Bianca’s chest.  

“Great, good for you,” Bianca growled. “Why don’t you call her, then?”

“I don’t want to call her! I want you to admit that you saw me leave with her and you followed. You weren’t worried about my safety, you wanted to stop us from doing anything. Why can't you just admit that?” she asked desperately. Her eyes were pleading now and her voice started to crack.

And Bianca, of course, had no answer. She looked away, swallowing, then back at Courtney, still searching for something to say. But Courtney beat her to the punch once again.

“I think...maybe you like me,” she spoke softly. “Don’t you?”

When no answer came, once again, she tossed the book down and reached out, a hand on Bianca’s forearm.

“Well, I like you. If I didn’t like you, I’d have stayed in the club with Adore. That would have been the easiest thing. But I didn’t, because I care about you. And I think you know that...so why can’t we even talk about it like fucking adults?”

It wasn’t enough, was all Bianca could think. Courtney’s possibly temporary interest was not a reason to potentially fuck up a friendship, not to mention make their living situation extremely precarious.

Sneering, yet still not moving away, Bianca told her, “Nothing about this would be a good idea.”

“Why not?” Courtney couldn’t help saying, eyes rolling.

“Uh, about a million reasons,” Bianca said. “We’re roommates, we’re friends, and if things go south--scratch that, when things go south, it’ll be a fucking mess.”

“Could be worth it,” Courtney said, a smile pulling at her lips. “And I mean, I have heaps of other friends, so…”

Thoroughly annoyed by Courtney’s nonchalance, Bianca then went for a low blow by reminding her, “Okay, how about the fact that you've never been with a woman before?”

“So what?”

“So, I don’t even know if you’re gay. Or what you are. Maybe you’re just...confused.”

“Yeah, maybe!” Courtney burst out. “Maybe I don’t know what I am either. But labels aren’t really my priority right now. All I care about, all that matters, is that I like you.”

“What is the point of this conversation, anyway? Do you really think you can debate me into fucking you?” Bianca asked.

Courtney’s smile turned bittersweet, a sigh leaving her. She scooted closer to Bianca, their knees now touching, speaking gently and carefully.

“No, you’re right. I just wanted to tell you that I can’t stop thinking about you. And I don’t think it’s just some fleeting curiosity. I like everything about you...how smart you are, how funny, how even when you're teasing or mad at me like last night, I still wanna be close to you. I always have. You’re just so...so beautiful,” she finished, eyes soft and misty. No longer fighting, or trying to prove a point. No longer indignant or demanding an answer. Just looking at Bianca in that irresistible way, like she’d hung the moon. “And I think...it could be really great, if we gave it a shot.”

Bianca’s mind raced. How did this conversation go so off the rails, so quickly? What was she supposed to say to that?

“Maybe I’m wrong, though,” Courtney conceded lightly. “Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe it’s all in my head.”

“Courtney-”

“If you tell me I’m wrong, I’ll leave. I won’t bother you about this again. So. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Courtney looked at her, challenging but still somehow soft and vulnerable. This was Bianca’s out. This was a gift, and they both knew it. And the smart thing to do would have been to take that gift and just tell her that she was wrong. Sorry for leading you on, dollface. Hope we can still be friends.

Instead, Bianca was an idiot.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because. You’re not wrong, but-”

The smile that spread across Courtney’s face, lighting up her eyes, was yet another reminder to Bianca of how thoroughly she’d fucked this up.

“But listen,” she continued, “I told myself a long time ago that I would not, under any circumstances, be the kind of asshole who tried to seduce straight girls.”

“I’m not-”

“I know, I know, you don’t know what you are. But that’s the point, Court. I don’t want to be like, taking advantage of the fact that you’re confused right now. Okay? I just…” Bianca sighed. “God, I really should have just let you fuck that green-haired slut, huh?”

Courtney chuckled at that.

“I just...I made a promise to myself. That no matter what, I wasn’t gonna lay a hand on you.”

“Hmm.” Courtney made a small noise, backing off a little bit. “Okay.”

It was too easy, and her eyes still had that sparkle. So Bianca’s heart was still in her throat.

“I understand what you’re saying, B. And I would never want to make you feel like you have to break a personal promise.”

Bianca began to get the distinct impression that she was being mocked, in spite of the sweet and empathetic way that Courtney was speaking--or maybe because of it.

“But, if you’ll hear it...I do have a small counterpoint,” Courtney added.  

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked. “I don’t want to nag you. So if your mind is made up, I-”

“Just tell me your fuckin’ counterpoint.”

“Okay.” Courtney inched forward, “Here it is.”

Bianca’s eyes shifted to her knee, where Courtney’s hand had settled. Her breathing remained shallow, body unmoving. When she looked back into Courtney’s glittering green eyes, felt the soft hand slide up her thigh, her breath hitched.

“Do you want me to stop?” Courtney whispered.

Her pulse now racing, Bianca shook her head slightly, watching Courtney’s beautiful face as her eyes went soft. She leaned closer, lips hovering over Bianca’s, so close that Bianca swore she could taste her. Her free hand tangled into Bianca’s hair, fingers running through it as she cupped her cheek.

When their mouths were mere millimeters apart, Bianca’s eyes finally fell closed, lips parting in anticipation, hands moving to Courtney’s waist. Courtney brushed their lips together, so soft Bianca thought she may have imagined it.

*

Courtney had been dreaming of this for so long; it was hard for her to believe that it was really happening. She took her time, thumbs stroking Bianca’s cheeks, nose nuzzling into her gently before finally pressing their lips together. Her mouth was pillowy soft and warm, and Courtney couldn’t help smiling against her as she deepened the kiss, tongue slipping inside her mouth to luxuriate in the taste of her.

“Court, wait...are you really sure this is what you want?” Bianca asked, pulling back just a little to search her eyes.

Still panting, Courtney took a moment to compose herself, enough to look into Bianca’s eyes and say, “Dead sure.”  

“Ugh, that’s so Aussie,” Bianca stated, and Courtney laughed, pulling her close again.

“Shut up,” she whispered, going in for another soft kiss.  

And then, like a dam bursting open, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Bianca’s shoulders and climbing into her lap. A low moan left Bianca’s lips as she rolled her hips forward, which emboldened Courtney to continue, rocking against her. Her lips trailed down Bianca’s jaw to her neck, finding the tenderest spot to graze with her teeth before sucking gently.

*

“Shit,” Bianca murmured, fingers digging into Courtney’s waist.

Why on earth had she been fighting this?

She supposed that from the beginning, the fact that Courtney was straight had addled her mind. Made her off-limits in a way that allowed Bianca to pretend that she was keeping her distance. And the fact that this ‘straight’ girl seemed so into her? That made it better--an exercise in self-control, which Bianca deluded herself into thinking that she was winning. At least until this weekend.

Now though, with Courtney finally in her arms, enthusiastically devouring her neck, pulling at the buttons of her top, she finally allowed herself to relax.

“You’re really jumping into this lesbian thing with both feet, huh?” Bianca asked breathlessly.

“Is there any other way to do it?” Courtney murmured, licking up her throat, then pushing Bianca’s top open and letting out a gratified sigh.

The way she drank Bianca in with hungry, greedy eyes made hairs stand up on the back of her neck. And then she reached forward, hands sliding up Bianca’s torso, cupping her tits.

“God, you’re so sexy,” Courtney breathed, running the back of her fingers over Bianca’s achingly hard nipples.

“Shit,” Bianca groaned again, arching up. The frantic pulsing between her legs begged her to take back control—to fling Courtney onto her back and make her forget her own name. But part of her was also thrilled by how self-assured Courtney was, how quickly she’d been able to work Bianca up to the point of pain.

“Do you like that, B?” Courtney asked softly. Her body weight pressed down as fingers continued to casually toy with her nipples.

Bianca looked up at her, bleary-eyed with lust, and admitted, “I’ve never been so happy to be wrong in my life.”

Courtney giggled adorably, laying a light kiss against Bianca’s temple.

“Hold that thought,” she then said, jumping up from the bed.

Bianca lifted herself onto her elbows and blinked at her, a bit dazed, as she rifled through her dresser.

“What...what the hell are you looking for?”

“Just something to...aha!” Courtney pulled out a pair of black tights and ran to the door, tying them around the handle.

“We haven’t really established that code,” Bianca said.

“She’s smart. She’ll figure it out.” Courtney shut the door firmly, turning back to Bianca with a wicked grin. She whipped off her shirt (and bra) in one fluid motion, tossing them to the floor, then took her sweet time sauntering back to the bed, asking, “Where were we?”

Bianca cleared her throat, trying to tear her eyes from her perfect little tits before answering hoarsely, “You were teasing the shit out of me.”

“Oh yeah,” Courtney said brightly, climbing back on the bed and straddling her quickly. “Thanks...”

#rpdr fanfiction #bitney #bianca del rio #courtney act #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #willaska #shea coulee #college au #lesbian au #friends to lovers #fluff #almost smut #off limits #just friends #veronica #albatross

[lemonietrinket]

Flirt ||| Wonpil x Reader

summary: wonpil is acting strange. and you have a... small theory as to what he’s doing but that would mean accepting that your feelings are mutual. and can you believe that? no. not yet. but maybe someone will help you to.

genre: flirty... fluff? i guess some attempts of (niche) humour warning(s): occasional foul language (1x s**t) word count: 2038 song(s): baby - astro an: sorry it took a little while anon! i struggled to start this one for some reason? anyway i hope you enjoy it! it’s a lot longer than i intended. again. oops.

non-idol!au

~~~

you couldn’t tell what was up with wonpil. it wasn’t like he’d been acting this way for weeks or even days—in fact, this strange air that had overtaken him had only begun an hour ago, when you had arrived at their place with another of your friends—and yet he seemed such a different person to what you normally saw of him. sure he was affectionate, and cuddly, and could often say odd phrases that could be wildly construed as meaning things he most probably did not. but not to this level. because now, catching the abnormal glint in his eye, you could have sworn he did mean it. and you were torn between wanting to shy away to save your heart the pain of bursting, as well as never wanting him to stop.

because truth be told, these displays were the boldest indicators that he actually liked you back. he wasn’t just holding onto your arm because that’s what he did with people he was close with, he was holding onto your arm because he wanted to be close to you, and his hands only drifted away gradually as if he wanted to return. he wasn’t seemingly biting his lip out of deep thought anymore either—how could he be, when he seemed to make such strong yet brief eye contact with you while he did so? he didn’t clear the corner of your lip with a napkin like he usually did if there was a crumb there, he did it with the tip of his thumb instead, with a napkin right there—

and quite honestly, you didn’t know what to do about it all. it was as if your dreams were being presented to you on a platter, and all you had to do was be bold enough to take them but in the end you could never truly be sure enough to do so.

it had continued all throughout the evening. whenever you spoke to him even on the smallest and most insignificant of matters, those deep spools of onyx stared right into your soul, and seemed to settle there comfortably, while his usual bright smile was replaced by a dimmer one. you had worried if he was upset at first, until the possibility dawned on you that that was what a wonpil smirk looked like. it unnerved you that you’d never seen one before, and you quickly shrugged it off. 

though your mind continued to question what the hell he was up to.

with cheeks flushed and eyes focused on your meal, you avoided your friends’ stares, until one finally gathered the confidence to ask. 

“you alright, y/n?” it was younghyun. which meant you should really respond.

plastering the most convincing smile you could muster on your face—which surely couldn’t have been too unconvincing since you were slightly delirious with the possibility of your dreams coming true—and raised your head confidently to answer him. “yeah! i’m fine, just tired!”

“right, you look a bit hot,” sungjin continued, gesturing to his cheeks to represent yours. 

feeling the eyes upon you, it took you a few seconds to work out what excuse to use. unfortunately, those moments were all that wonpil needed to strike again with his sudden flustering confidence. “too right they do,” he said simply. 

jae broke into laughter as dowoon subtly choked on his ramen. your friend meanwhile, having been close colleague to you for a couple of solid months (which was not long enough to know anywhere near a hundred percent of what anyone was really like), giggled and teasingly piped up, “oooh, someone’s got a crush!”

you rolled your eyes at how cringey she sounded, as well as to cover for just how the mention of wonpil liking you in that way made your face no doubt heat up even more. sungjin though spoke up quickly to clarify, whilst the others just laughed, “no no, he means like they do look hot—not hot as in attractive, hot as in genuinely... high temperature.”

with the others distracted you felt your eyes drawn to the man sat directly opposite to you, and what you found there was truly heart-stopping.

he was smiling. which was bad enough for your stability, as whenever he beamed you felt your spirits lift and the world brighten, as if nothing bad could happen, and that you were truly cared for by somebody. but this time, once again, that smile had that bold undertone. that gleaming gaze. if you would ever a simp, it would be for this man and this man alone.

however, things didn’t end there.

“you should get some water,” jae suggested, chuckles dying down as he nodded in encouragement. “it’ll help, park’s word.”

“good idea, i’ll come w—”

younghyun had begun, but before he could even put his empty plate on the coffee table, he was forced to halt in his tracks.

“no, i’ll do it!” wonpil interjected, “i’ll help them.” 

within moments he was up on his feet, food practically discarded, his bandmate left to lean back in his chair, wondering what had just happened. or at least that’s what you thought of the situation.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

absentmindedly, you had trundled after wonpil as soon as he’d offered to accompany you, simply because you couldn’t imagine not going with him. wherever this man went you would go. but no, you weren’t totally, utterly in love—pah, of course not.

reaching the kitchen, when you saw there was enough space, you scarpered around him and straight over to the cupboard to get yourself a glass. jae had been right, you really did need something to cool you down.  the room remained silent as you heard the conversation in the living room pick up once again, muffled by your overwhelming heart beat. you avoiding his gaze by keeping your head towards your glass and your back turned. wonpil didn’t seem to make any attempt of moving across from the opposite stretch of counters like you expected he would. nor did he speak for the longest time, which worried you more than all of the ‘flirting’ (you weren’t sure if you should pin it as that just yet) combined. 

eventually though, the quiet was broken. 

“why were they all laughing?” he enquired, voice a dab closer to the usual soft pili you knew inside and out. 

you figured that indicated the ‘flirting’ explanation was less probable. either way, you explained while pouring water into the glass. never did you think you would be staring at the quickly popping bubbles of a boring old drink over the most gorgeous man you ever met. “because it sounded like you were saying that i was attractive-hot, rather than hot-hot,” you chuckled half-heartedly, “don’t worry, it happens to the best of us, english sucks.”

there was another moment of peace and you figured he wouldn’t talk and expect you answer for a bit, so you took a sip of water. the ice met fire and you could feel your heartbeat begin to slow from its incessant march.

that was, before his voice returned, a lot more shy than just mere minutes prior. “but... that is how i meant it.”

you choked on your drink, and within a single second you were ready to implode all over again.

he rushed to your side and it was like your cheeks couldn’t get any redder. his hand tapped your back lightly as he repeated apology after apology. though through your coughs, you smiled—properly this time. because your normal wonpil was pretty much back. big eyes wide and shining, voice sweet rather than sultry, and at your side.

“it’s ok, i’m fine,” you urged, clearing your throat before taking another sip to help more effectively this round. 

he waited for you to finish this time before speaking in a whisper, “i’m why you’re blushing, aren’t i.” 

he looked so earnest, so sincere.

“n-no.” you cursed your cowardice. this would have been the moment to admit everything, to tell him of all the feelings you’d failed to confess for so long. 

“its ok, i know, you’re the reason why i am too.”

not that it really mattered, as he already knew. 

thoughts running along cogs in your head, it took you a few moments to gather what he was inferring. 

but it was true. so focused inwardly, on keeping yourself together, you hadn’t even regarded the face of the man you liked so dearly. whipping your head across to him, you found his cheeks flushed rose just like yours, though admittedly less rampant. 

“you... you know?” you stammered, forcing yourself to inhale. you needed to stay alive at least long enough to hear the rest of what he had to say, otherwise everything up to this point had been for nothing.

at this point however, he looked sheepish. guilty even, with his lips pressing firmly together as his eyes began to avoid yours, flitting around the kitchen haphazardly.

“yeah. i... kinda found out yesterday.”

“yesterday?!” you exclaimed. “how?” you didn’t let him reply as you immediately moved on. “wait, that’s what this was all about? all those lingering touches and gazes and the... the cleaning of my lips without a napkin?!”

he nodded.

“pil, you shit!” a laugh broke through your curse.

wonpil began to whine nonetheless. “look! you made me flustered this whole time! and i-i wanted to be confident to you! for once... like younghyun! he’s confident to people he likes—”

“you made me flustered too! this whole time! outside of like... whatever happened today,” you insisted. however, your voice lowered soon after as you turned away from the counter to face him fully. “wonpil, i only want you to be yourself though, ok? you don’t have to be like younghyun, i love you just the way you are.”

his head lifted to reveal that characteristic smile slowly growing upon his lips. “you love me?”

your eyes widened in horror at what you’d let slip. breath hitching in your throat and leaving you completely unable to explain what had just happened, you needn’t have worried so much. wonpil’s bright smile only continued to beam and soon, his arms were around you.  you clutched to him out of reflex, inhaling deeply and letting his presence calm you at last. his hair was soft by your cheek, grip tight at your shirt as he nuzzled his nose into your neck. 

“i love you too,” he murmured after relishing in the peace, and with your heart fluttering you embraced him tighter. it had been such a convoluted way to end up with your dreams right in your lap but you didn’t care. he was here now. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

“ha! i win, hand over suckers!”

several sighs and groans merged behind you, and you pulled away slightly to see what on earth was going on. there you found your friend, stood proudly at the front, with her open palms being filled with the eventual equivalent of a wad of cash. only sungjin didn’t seem to be taking part. when her hand was pushed towards him, he shook his head.

“no i didn’t take part.”

when she looked quizzically over at him, younghyun stated, “would have been his fourth time.”

unfortunately it didn’t add much clarity. “what?”

you heard wonpil whine, arms still loosely looped round the small of your back and you offered him an apologetic smile.  taking a deep breath, you pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, and laughed at how his blush began to slowly return. 

“you want to get out of this joint?”

he giggled. “yeah, it’s dull. ice creams?”

“perfect. move it losers, we’re coming through,” you chucked over your shoulder jokingly, and with an arm around him you lead the two of you out of the kitchen. the small crowd instantly parted for you to make your way through but not without a couple of cheers, mostly from jae. 

although as you passed, you felt the overwhelming urging hand of curiosity push you to ask wonpil, “hey, how did you know?”

“w-well—”

“to be fair, everyone knew, so it only seemed fair,” interjected a deep voice from the sidelines. 

“dowoon?!”

~~~

an: i’ve just realised that this may not work in korean? so... in this world they all magically speak fluent english too yay.

masterlist

#day6 #day6 wonpil #kim wonpil #wonpil day6 #wonpil x reader #wonpil fluff #wonpil x reader fluff #wonpil oneshot #wonpil imagines #wonpil imagines fluff #wonpil oneshot fluff #day6 fluff #day6 x reader #day6 x reader fluff #day6 imagines #day6 imagines fluff #day6 oneshot #day6 oneshot fluff

[shreddedparchment]

Shattered Glass Pt.03 - Final

Broken Hearts

07/15/2019

Pairing: Tony x Reader, Steve x Reader   Word Count: 6,447

Masterpost    Warnings: smut, language, ANGST, heavy drinking, neglect

A/N: This was a ride. I don’t end many fics this way but this one felt right. I think next time I write a Tonycentric fic I’ll make sure that Pepper isn’t in it in the way she was in this one. I’ll definitely need to do another Tony fic. This began as part of @moonbeambucky ‘s challenge. Again, I just pounded this thing out. Forgive any errors. I didn’t edit this AT ALL. I’ll need to come back. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“What happened to your arm?” Nat gasps, quickly moving forward to relieve you of the bulking suitcase you’re carrying and the one Tony’s sliding behind him.

“It’s my fault.” You tell her, cheeks burning as you remember your recklessness.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait for my signal, Princess. I’ll go in from the left. You go in from the right. We take them out a section at a time and work our way into that final bunker. I’m sure the big cheese is in there. Waiting like a moldy lump of gorgonzola.” Tony whispers into your comm.

“Doesn’t that just mean it’s ripe?” You check but you become distracted as the head honcho himself. “Tony, isn’t that-?”

“Son of a bitch.” Tony mutters, recognizing the bearded man. His olive skin, dark graying hair, dark eyes. He’s scarred on one side of his face, his right arm useless and held in a sling. “That’s the asshole that held me in a cave for three months.”

Abu Bakaar. You know him only from the briefs in the files that Tony has.

“How the hell is he still alive?” Tony growls.

You can hear the hate in his voice, the fear. “I can get him, Tony. Before he escapes again.”

“What? No. Stick to the plan.”

“He’ll get away.” You complain.

“Y/N, stick to the plan.”

“I’m going in after him.” And you dive forward, your target set, your path unknown.

“Shit, no!” Tony yells and with no other choice, he follows you into the lion’s den.

~~~~~~~~~

“Why didn’t you two ask for backup?” Nat chastises as Sam and Steve wander in from the hallway that leads to the gym.

They both stop as they spot the pair of you, moving towards you both like Nat did, with concern in their eyes.

“What happened?” Steve asks, noticing the sling holding Tony’s arm.

You bite your lip, then reach up to bite your thumb’s nail as you fuss over his injury. If you hadn’t been stupid, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

“I’m fine.” Tony insists. “Let’s just get this debrief over with so that I can go take many, many pills.”

Sam and Steve move up towards the long tables where debriefs usually occur.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you call Vision and Wanda?” Nat asks and doesn’t care to hear a response knowing the A.I. will do as she asks.

She’s already rushing to set up the computer.

“Tony…” You begin, moving towards him and reaching out for his uninjured hand.

He holds it up, stopping you, giving you no chance to grab his hand.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He insists.

When he drops his hand, you reach for it again, but he moves away from you, trailing up towards the table and taking a seat at the opposite head so that he can look at the large display without obstruction.

You linger by the steps, wringing your hands as a black hole begins to settle in the base of your stomach.

You sit to Tony’s right, staring at him in search of the soft cuddly man from the island.

Even after his injury he’d been so sweet with you, caressing your head as you set his arm—just a dislocated shoulder but it really hurt so you’d put it in a sling to force him not to use it—as he assured you that he was fine.

He won’t even look at you now.

You meet Steve’s eyes, sitting across from you, and find him frowning. Eyebrows drawn together as he watches the way you slide your hand towards Tony’s, but he pulls it away making a show of scratching the back of his head or adjusting the sling on his arm.

Your ears burn when you see Steve notice this and quickly pull your hands down into your lap and divert all of your attention to the display.

You’re not listening as Tony explains the layout of the base and the different outposts. He talks about the initial scouting you two did and you remember all the romance in the moments between it. The touches. The escapes to your room and the sex among glittering seafoam crested waves. Soft spoken promises of devotion.

“Y/N?” Steve calls, pulling your mind back to the present.

“What?” You ask, startled.

“Bakaar? Tony says you saw him get away?” Steve asks, his fingers rapping on the table.

He’s tense. He’s trying to hide it but you can see it on him.

“I uh…” You glance at Tony and find his chocolate browns almost black as he stares you down, frowning lightly because of course he can see you analyzing Steve.

You scoot closer to him and reach under the table, stroking the thick muscle of his thigh but he clears his throat and gets up, pacing to the railing behind him to lean against.

“Yeah. He was on a boat and out of sight before we could follow. It was my fuck up. If I’d waited like Tony wanted to, we might have had him.” You confess, hating yourself for screwing this up.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.” Steve assures you and maybe it’s because you and he haven’t really talked since your split but you’re grateful for his kindness and give him a small smile.

“It really was.” You promise him.

“Alright, he got away. We’ll keep an out for him. F.R.I.D.A.Y. send up all the usual red flags to all the big wigs. Get those satellites scanning. Find Bakaar.” Tony orders.

“Right away, boss.”

“Good? Okay. Nobody bother me. I’ll be drunk and drugged up in my room.” Tony announces then moves off towards the stairs.

You watch him as he goes, a small rise of panic in your chest at his upset with you. “If I can do anything, please let me know.”

Nat gives you a nod as she gathers up the mission reports and slides them to Steve, shutting off the computer as you rise. “Will do.”

You turn and scamper after Tony, eager to mend whatever break you’ve caused. “Tony?”

Steve waits for it, for their commentary on the way you seem to dote on Tony’s moods. He’s waiting for Sam to point out that you must have really fucked up in order for Tony to be so cold when he’s really only ever been full of affection for the woman he’s with.

An arm around their waist, hand holding, winks, even the occasional kiss on the cheek.

He can see that you and Tony have started seeing each other. It’s in the way you move, the looks you give him. It’s why Steve had stepped aside.

The moment Tony had told him that things with Pepper were going belly up, he knew that he’d eventually have to step aside so that you could have what you finally wanted.

Tony wanted you too, Steve has known that for a long time. Letting you go had been hard. He still wants to give in, go back to you, claim you as his own but he can’t because you want Tony.

He’d thrown himself into Betsy’s affections and that’s where he’s been for the past month.

So, the fact that Sam and Nat, Wanda and Vision already up and gone don’t comment on your anxiety throws him.

“What’s going on with them?” He asks and waits for one of them to answer.

“Vision and Wanda? They’re always like that. If you ask me, someone should have a talk with them about keeping the PDA a little more behind closed doors.” Sam complains.

Nat smirks. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t had a date in six weeks.”

“Four. Four weeks. Stop telling people it’s six weeks. That coffee with that nurse in the mess hall counts.” He says, pointing at Nat as she turns to look at Steve with that same smirk.

“What are you worrying about now?” She asks him, noticing the pucker between his eyes.

“I didn’t mean Vis and Wanda, I’m talking about Tony and Y/N.” Steve clears up, pulling the reports closer to adjust into a neater pile.

“Tony and Y/N?” Sam asks, getting up and shaking his head. “What about them? The mission was tough. I’m sure they’re just tired. Tony’s always a grump after a tough mission.”

“He’s being a little cold. So what?” Nat shrugs. “She did rush in and get his arm dislocated.”

Steve hesitates because he doesn’t want to say something and be wrong. But…no! It’s as clear as day to him that you and Tony are finally dating.

“Anyway, it’s kinda your fault for saying no.” Nat accuses him.

“My fault?” Steve asks, confused. “Saying no to what?”

“To the mission. I was already assigned to that conference in Washington. Sam had his V.A. thing. Rhodey is always running missions for D.C. Wanda and Vision were going on their vacation. Clint finally went home. Tony said he asked if you’d go with him and you said you couldn’t. Too busy with Betsy, huh?” Nat wiggles her eyebrows, but Steve is too busy reeling from this flat out lie that he doesn’t respond to the Betsy comment.

“He asked me to go with him?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Sam nods. “And if you’d gone, maybe Tony wouldn’t be in such a bad mood. I don’t know why we’re still sending Y/N out on missions when she can’t keep her head on straight long enough to consider everyone else in the room. I had to ask her to be nicer to Betsy after that one dinner, remember? That night you brought her?”

“What?” Steve remembers you throwing a small fit. Betsy’s confusion from it but it had blown over so quickly that he hadn’t spared it another thought. “What did you tell her?”

“I just told her that she wasn’t being very nice and if she wasn’t going to try that maybe she should stay in her room until she felt like being nicer.” Sam shrugs but then steps back as Steve stands suddenly, glaring at him with an anger that Sam has only ever seen trained at misbehaved recruits.

“Have you or have you not seen Tony and Y/N together?”

“Steve, what are you getting at?” Nat asks, a little exasperated with him. Steve can see the annoyance in her face.

“Tony…Y/N…they’re seeing each other, aren’t they?” He asks.

“What?” Nat shakes her head, utterly confused by his words. “It’s only been two months since Tony and Pepper split.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “I mean, if he was seeing her, talk about a downgrade.”

Steve slams his hand down on the table. It groans and shifts from the strength of his hit but the fire in his chest is scorching.

“What the hell is your problem with her, Sam?” Steve demands, rage building at the clear dislike Sam has for you.

Would he still be treating you like this if he knew how Steve feels about you? Steve wonders.

“I don’t necessarily have a problem with her. I just—if you ask me, she needs more training. She’s not ready to be on the team.” He assesses.

“So instead of offering to train her you decide to spit insults at her behind her back?” Why does this happen to you? Steve doesn’t understand it. What is it about you that sets people on edge?

“It’s not that I’m…listen, I don’t dislike the girl. She and I just don’t flow on the same wavelength. I think I’d get frustrated trying to train her.” Sam admits, sending another wave of anger through Steve making his vision flash red.

“That isn’t teamwork, Sam. And you should know better.” Steve chastises him then grabs the reports and walks off before either of them can say anything more to stop him.

As he makes his way to his room, he realizes that your happily ever after with Tony might just run into a few snags because Tony, like he had done, seems to be hiding you from the rest of the team too and this discovery fills Steve with a wicked amount of apprehension and fury.

Steve sticks around. He lingers in the common spaces and as sneakily as possible, he looks for you.

He waits for you and Tony to come out together because he does follow you to Tony’s den and you spend days locked up in there with him.

Yes. You and Tony are together…at least within the confines of Tony’s den.

In the two weeks since Steve has started his search for proof of you and Tony’s relationship, only twice has he seen you and Tony together among the others.

Once, at another of Tony’s usual galas, he takes you to the dance floor and he twirls you around the floor teal illuminated floor.

You look beautiful in a stunning red satin gown. It clings to your form in all the right places and if Steve didn’t have Betsy on his arm, he might have given in to his urge to ask you to dance too but out of respect for you and Tony, he doesn’t.

He watches you light up in Tony’s arms, ecstatic to be his girl but as soon as the song ends, Tony drops you off at the bar and takes Nat out to dance. Then Wanda. Then Maria.

Steve watches you sit at the bar and stare as Tony takes out several more women out to dance before drifting off to mingle amongst his guests.

He doesn’t find you again that night and you get steadily more and more drunk.

Betsy wants to leave so Steve walks her out and gets her into one of Tony’s chauffeured cars, kisses her cheek, then hurries back up to the dance floor.

He doesn’t see you at first but as he casually moves through the party goers, sliding along the limestone floor, and banquet tables, he scans every corner of the room.

As he passes the bar, he sees your glass sitting just where you’d been, glass nearly full of what would have been your fifth whiskey of the night.

With his hands shoved into his pockets, he follows the route you would have most likely taken and considers the bathroom.

Purpose driven steps pull him towards that small hallway where the bathrooms wait. He holds his arm up on the doorway as two giggling socialites gawk at him in his formal wear, then he slides the door shut behind him as he moves towards the women’s bathroom.

He stops before the door, hesitating.

Shit. He should have grabbed one of those girls to check for you in there since he can’t go.

He raises his hand, lifting it to knock on the heavy wooden door but stops when he hears a familiar whimper.

He turns to his left, moving down past the men’s bathroom towards a closet at the end of the hall. The door isn’t shut all the way and he peeks in and wishes he hadn’t.

Your pretty dress is pulled up, gathered around your waist, laying on what must be Tony’s tuxedo jacket.

He’s kissing your neck, sucking on the skin that Steve remembers tasting himself. Sweet sugar and dewy honey. Tony’s movements are quick and rough, a frantic pulsing of thrusts as he yanks down the top of your dress and your breasts spill out to bounce with the urgency of his need.

Steve’s shock robs him of words for thoughts and speaking. He reaches to shut the door, but he seems to be catching the show just as it’s over.

You give that familiar tremble and your body clings to Tony as you’re awash in ecstasy. Tony clutches you close, thrusting into you a few more times before he buries himself deep and hits his peak too.

Your arms fall over your head and the thought pops into his head before he can stop it.

Too rough. Steve hates to see your body used because to him, that’ what it looks like.

There’s no love in what he just saw. Only lust. He very nearly decides that what Tony can give you is nothing more than pain and the very next morning he’ll convince you of it and hope that you come away with him…then Tony nuzzles his nose into your cheek, into your hair, kissing you softly with fluttering pecks.

Steve stares because yes, what he just saw was nothing but lust but there in the vestiges of whatever Tony had just done to you, is the love.

He knows it because he’s felt it. He gave you those same caresses, those same kisses.

Tony finds your lips and kisses you slow and genuine, his eyes boring into yours though your eyes are hazy with whiskey, telling you without words how much he loves you.

Steve shuts the door, silently, and heads back into the ballroom, staring up at the stained-glass ceiling for what feels like a long time as he considers both sides of this argument.

Tony is clearly keeping you to himself. Truly to himself. All night he’s ignored you, refusing to show anyone what you really mean to him. Why?

Is he ashamed? He has no reason to be. You’re…a little reckless at times, quick to anger, but you’re passionate and playful. You love with your whole heart and the damages of your youth are not are a struggle but one that Tony should be willing to carry.

If he loves you, he must have comforted you in the night when you wake up from those nightmares, right? He must have held you and kissed you and assured you that you were good and just right the way you are, right?

The door behind him opens and Tony emerges, tuxedo jacket back on but wrinkled. He looks around, smoothing his hair before spotting someone at the other end of the room. His head tilts to the right and he hurries across the dance floor.

Steve waits for you to follow but after five minutes, when you don’t, he sighs and ducks back into the hallway. He checks the closet again, hoping that you’re in the bathroom instead but he finds you there, sitting against the wall with your head resting against the cool stone. You’re decent at least, so there’s that.

Your head swivels in his direction and after a moment your eyes shine with recognition.

“Steve!” You gasp, smiling, stupidly happy to see him. “Hi!”

“Hey, doll face. Come on. Let’s get you home.” Steve moves over to you and you reach up to wrap your arm around his neck instinctively.

You smell like a liquor store and Steve finds that the rage in his belly just won’t quit. He feels sick to his stomach. Angry enough to punch someone.

He lifts you, holding you close as he kicks the closet door open and then heads for the ballroom.

“He just left you in there?” He asks, not really even sure if you’re listening.

“Tony said he’d be right back for me.” You argue, drunk but not as drunk as he might think maybe.

“Well, it’s been almost ten minutes.” Steve argues back.

You groan, an angry grimace thrown his way, but you’re already dozing on his shoulder and he doesn’t want to wake you.

It takes skill to get you snuck through the ballroom without the team seeing you. He doesn’t want Sam judging you or Nat frowning at you disapprovingly. Wanda would probably offer to help but then chastise you gently even through your sleep.

And for some reason, Steve wants to see the panic in Tony’s eyes when he doesn’t find you shut away in that closet.

Used and discarded. He thinks, though he knows he’s being unfair.

He was no better, keeping you to himself, shut up in your room.

His heart aches with guilt at the thought. He should have shoved you in all of their faces.

Steve has nearly made it to the front doors, having avoided most of the notable guests when he hears Tony’s voice, strained and stressed.

He’s hidden in an alcove in the large foyer. Steve hurries forward, eager to get out of the building before he’s seen when a second voice reaches his ears.

“This is the problem. This right here, Tony. You talk about commitment and the future like you’re ready but you’re not. You keep playing these games and I can’t wait around for you to be ready to grow up.”

“Pepper-Pep-Pepper, wait. Alright? Wait. Look, I’m working on it. I’m…I know I’m a mess.” Tony says.

“You’ve said all of this to me before, Tony. And you’re right. You’re all over the damn place. How do you expect me to start a life with someone who can’t even remember to pay his taxes? Or be there when he says he’ll be there. I waited for six hours. Six! You didn’t call. You didn’t even try and get word to me that you were caught up doing all these crazy things that you do, and it’s not like you were saving the world, Tony. I know you weren’t. You were stuck in your lab, fiddling with your toys, oblivious to the world around you. What are you going to do if we have kids? I need an adult-” Pepper pleads.

Tony tries to cut her off, “Pepper-”

But she speaks over him, shutting him up. “-someone who is willing to deal with his problems and not run from them. Someone who can put me first. Put our life first before all the bullshit this job of yours asks for. If you want this to work, you need to get your shit together, Tony. I can’t wait forever, and I’m very nearly done waiting.”

She’s near tears, and Steve can hear that. As he pushes through the door, he can hear Tony calling after her. Chasing her. With you, forgotten in a closet.

Steve waits for two hours, leaning against the wall outside your door.

He hadn’t undressed you. He hadn’t cleaned you up. He’d put you to bed, aspirin and water left for you to drink, then planted himself outside to wait.

Every minute that passed felt like an age. How long would you have been waiting in that closet if he hadn’t gone back in to look for you? How would you have felt when you came to and realized that Tony had forgotten you in there?

His newly acquired knowledge, the fact that Tony is still pleading with Pepper to take him back, makes the entire night so much worse. You don’t know what’s happening. To you, this isn’t as bad as it really is.

He hears him before he sees him. Fast, agitated footsteps on the cold dark concrete of the hallway, approaching from the stairs.

Steve doesn’t let himself look up. He keeps his eyes trained on the spot before him, right where the wall meets the floor. He chews on his tongue, urging himself into a calm.

The feet stop, and the musk of Tony’s cologne wafts towards him, churning his stomach.

Tony has always been a friend. A comrade. Someone that Steve can rely on. Although they may not have hit it off right away, over time, they grew close.

Now, Steve is fighting every fiber of his being to keep from breaking Tony’s nose.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asks, the jealous spike in his voice too much for Steve.

He scoffs, standing up straight but tightening the cross of his arms over his chest.

“I don’t think she was ever going to let you go without giving it a real good try first. It’s who she is. She wants something, she’ll get it. And she may be naïve but she’s not stupid, Tony.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing with her or if it’s some type of deal that you two have struck like she and I had but I do know that she loves you.”

“What’s your point, Rogers?” Tony asks, chest puffing out in his irritation.

Steve walks close, stopping when he’s standing right beside Tony to look down at his offended expression.

“My point is you should really be careful where you and Pepper have your lovers’ spats. If Y/N hadn’t been passed out drunk when I carried her out, she would have heard enough to know that you want Pepper back.” Steve lets that sink in, waiting for Tony to speak but he only looks away, towards your door.

“I wish I could ask you not to break her heart, but I think that’s inevitable now. If you’re not going to choose her…end it now. Before she can plan a future that she’ll never have. It’ll only hurt more when you rip it away from her.”

The second time Steve sees you and Tony not holed up in his den, is at a team dinner. Nothing special happens. No big reveals and no upsets. The only upset lies with Steve because he has to watch Tony push you away.

“Where’s Betsy, Steve?” Sam asks, smiling from ear to ear as he settles his elbows onto the table.

“We’re taking a break. She’s working on a big project for Fury and she doesn’t think she can give me the time I deserve.” He says, easy.

It isn’t a lie. Betsy is indeed busy with a plan for Fury, but the break is more from her loss of interest. Steve doesn’t blame her. Since the night of the gala, he’s been distracted. Less attentive.

He’s been watching Tony like a hawk and he’s seen him more than a handful of times in the weeks since the gala meet up with Pepper. Whether it’s to talk about business or their person lives, he doesn’t know.

What he does know is that you’re still very much a secret and Steve is starting to realize that it’s more for Pepper’s benefit than yours.

“How’s Pepper, Tony? Haven’t seen her around lately.” Steve asks, throwing the name out deliberately to get a reaction.

He hates that the name makes your eyes flood with confusion. You look up at him, full of wonder and anger because of course you’re going to hate him for bringing up Tony’s ex, but he has to make you see or make Tony confess.

Tony’s face is stoic, though his eyes betray a shift of anger. “She’s fine. We met up for breakfast two days ago.”

“You did?” You blurt out, suddenly nervous, eyes trained on Tony.

“Yeah.” Tony tells you, but he doesn’t look at you.

“That’s so great, Tony.” Wanda offers. “Any progress? We’re all rooting for you two.”

Steve watches you, frowning as your eyes pool as you stare at center of the table, hands tightly fisting the soft fabric of your skirt. No one else has noticed but the dishes on the table have begun to hover. No more than a few centimeters but enough that if one is paying attention, they’d see it.

“No. Nothing like that. It was for the company. She had some questions about some old projects I had started when I was still CEO.” He tells her, and though everyone else forgets the topic, you clearly don’t.

“Oh, I’ve got an update for you on Abu Bakaar, Tony.” Nat says, sliding out of her seat to grab the clicker for the large display at the end of the table.

Vision slides over and Steve can’t tear his eyes off of you as you sit there, rigid, to Tony’s left.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. the lights?” Nat asks, and the lights dim.

While Nat brings the monitor down and everyone at the table shifts to look over at what she’s doing, Tony finally looks at you and reaches out for your hand but you yank it away, sliding away from him hard, twisting your body around to look up at the monitor.

Steve can see that you want to cry and the tick in his jaw snaps audibly as he shifts his eyes to Tony and finds him watching him right back.

“We picked up his trail in Malaysia.” Nat clicks her remote and pulls up several photos of the weathered man outside a high scale bar. “Not really doing much. Trying to lay low probably but he’s out of practice.”

She clicks her remote and a new set of pictures crop up.

“He moved north into Cambodia, then Thailand, Laos, Myanmar, into China,” With each new place, new pictures are pulled up of him in cars, buses, sitting by bodies of water and large ornate buildings. “And our last scout puts him in Nepal. He’s hiding out in some village on the Himalayas. Beautiful but not luxurious. He’s taking the hiding more seriously now. I was thinking we could go in, all of us.”

Steve is focused on the mission, listening carefully to the description of Bakaar’s route for a pattern as to why he’d go so far north then divert back to the south west.

“Y/N…” With your name called, Steve’s attention is brought back to you and he finds you sitting up straight, staring at the screen with a frown. You turn to Nat. “…I know you faced this guy before but if he saw you, do you think he’d recognize you?”

Steve already doesn’t like where this is going.

“No. Not if I wear the right clothes.”

“What are you thinking?” Tony asks Nat, wary eyes flashed your way at the foolhardy spark in your own.

“He knows us, Tony. All of us. The whole world does. I can blend in and Steve is good at being quick but if we want to get this guy, we’re going to have to get close.” She looks at you and smiles. “Can you do it? He won’t know we have you. What you can do? It’s perfect.”

Steve hates the smile on Nat’s face. The want to throw you into the thick of what might very well be an ambush?

“No.” He says, stern, decided.

“What?” Nat asks, turning to him.

“Yes. I’ll do it.” You tell Nat.

“No.” Steve says, turning to face you.

He can see the defiant upturn in your face, the clear anger in your eyes. You’re jumping at the chance of danger after all that Pepper talk from before.

“It’s too dangerous.” He tells you.

“I don’t care. I’ll be good in there. I can do it.” You glare at him.

“I said no, Y/N. You’re not thinking straight.” He accuses.

You shoot to your feet, the dishes that had still been hovering falling at the same time as your focus is diverted.

“I don’t care what you say, I’m doing it whether you want me to or not.”

“It’s a trap.” Steve explains, getting louder. His chest aches with fear at the thought of you sliding into the village, getting yourself close enough for them to trap or worse, kill. “Those pictures, the path they’re taking, Bakaar wants to be found. You’re not going.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” You shout at him, hands fisted, lip shaking with rage.

“The hell I can’t! I’m Captain of this damn team and you will do what I say. We are not using you like some tool to sneak in. You’re not some hidden weapon for us to thrust out when we want to use you and put you away when we don’t.” Steve’s aware of the argument he’s making.

He knows that to you and to Tony, this will all mean so much more than just the mission, but he can’t help it. The thought of you exposed like that terrifies him and he is not going to let you do it.

You scoff, tears pooling in your eyes again as his argument hits the sore spot he was aiming for. When you speak, the hurt he just caused you cuts him as your voice drops back down to a low and calm cadence.

“You of all people should know Steve that I’m everyone’s dirty little secret.” You turn to Nat as Steve swallows hard and he watches as you make up your mind. “I’ll do it.”

Nat seems to understand that something more is going on here, and though she might not know exactly what, she knows that it’s serious.

As you move around Tony, yanking your hand away from him as he tries to catch you on your way around him, Nat finds Steve’s eyes and silently asks him what the hell she’s missing.

“How long have you been meeting with her, Tony?” You’re almost afraid to hear the answer.

Your gut screams at you, has been screaming at you, that things are not as perfect as you wish they were.

You’ve known for a while that Tony has been keeping you hidden, refusing to let anyone see that you’re his and that he’s yours…thought, maybe that’s because he never was?

“Since the beginning.” He says.

You stop your pacing and look over at him, sitting on the top step of the stairs that lead down into his lab. Wringing his hands, muscular arms straining with the tension of what this conversation means for both of you.

“Since the beginning.” You repeat and resume your pacing. “How long were you going to string me along?”

“That’s not what I was-”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Tony!” You scream, broken by his denial because it’s so far from the truth. How dare he even attempt to deny it. “You’ve been meeting with her since the beginning and what? You were going to introduce us and hope for the best? Maybe get a little ménage à trois?”

“No!” He insists, getting a little loud too. “Would you just-”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” You don’t mean to do it, but your temper gets the better of you and the cup of coffee you’d been drinking in the morning, happily sipping as Tony kissed your head, flies towards him.

You reach your hand out, stopping it before it hits him, and it falls to the ground and shatters.

“Fuck.” You sigh, moving to sit in his rolling chair to try and calm yourself.

You look at him and he’s staring at the floor, face screwed up with guilt and hurt.

You sob, allowing your emotions to bubble but focus on the ones that aren’t violent. It’s so difficult for you to control your ability. Even after so many years. You know you’ve neglected it, pushed it down because it’s what took your whole world and turned it into a nightmare.

You’ve never gained anything good from your power and you wish you could just shove it deep into a box and bury it with your parents.

“I can’t find any good reason for you to have done this to us, Tony. Why? Why would you make me feel this way if you wanted her back?”

“I wanted you.” He says, “I’ve wanted you for so long. I-I do love you, Y/N.”

“But not enough?”

“It’s not that.” He says.

You get up and move to him, dropping down to your knees before him, resting your hands on his. “Then choose me.”

For a fleeting moment, your mind is plagued by Steve’s own voice, begging you for the exact same thing you’re begging of Tony and you feel the weight of his grief double your own.

Did Steve love you then? Really love you?

“I can’t.” Tony sighs, reaching up to cup the sides of your face. “You and me won’t work, kid.”

You cry, face crumbling at his touch. It puckers and floods. You look down at his lap, hating the truth of his words. You already knew that he wasn’t going to choose you.

“But why?” You ask him, reaching up to cling to his hands.

“I’m not…I can barely take care of myself.” He confesses. “You and me, we’re both broken, and I can’t be there for you the way you need me. I wish I could give you what you want. What you deserve but I-”

You pull his hands away from your face, sobbing loudly, hating him for this but also wishing he’d crush you to his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, reaching for you and pulling you close so that he can kiss the side of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.” You gasp at him, pulling away from him to walk around him and move up the stairs. “I hate you.”

But you don’t. And that’s what kills you.

You pass Wanda and Vision on your way up the stairs to the common room and they stop at the sight of you falling to pieces. A mess of tears and snot.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Vision asks.

“Of course, she’s not.” Wanda chastises him.

“I’m sorry. I only meant it as an offer of assistance.” Vision explains.

You leave them behind, as you reach the common room landing. The meeting very much over but workaholics Nat and Steve still huddled in front of the display looking at the same photos over and over again to see if maybe this mission might really be a trap.

Steve looks up first and when he spots you, he straightens up, moving around the table and down the steps to stand a few feet from you as you continue to break.

Nat gasps quietly, suddenly worried about the state that you’re in and that argument from the meeting clearly playing itself over again in her head.

“Y/N?” She probes carefully, moving down the steps but stopping there because your eyes are on Steve and Steve’s eyes are on you.

He watches you, staring with a regretful but smug fix of his brow. Dark, storm blue eyes knowing.

“How long have you known?” You ask him, somehow finding the strength to speak.

“Since the gala.” He admits and you nod, understanding now that Tony had really forgotten you in that supply closet.

You’d thought it was a dream. A hazy nightmare where the man who claimed to love you avoided you the entire night, then dragged you into a closet to fuck you and then forgot about you.

As you meet Steve’s eyes, you succumb to the truth that this is not a nightmare. It’s only your life.

A life where you give up the love you deserve for the love you desire and have now lost them both.

“Steve…” You plead, moving closer to him by a single step. Does he know how sorry you are?

Steve takes a breath. His wide shoulders rise and fall with the weight of his sigh, expelling his own heartbreak as he opens his mouth to speak.

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Study buddy (Smut)

I often imagine Sehun being the Flirt Master who can get any girl... 

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5543 words

Warning: Rough sex, Public sex, Dirty-Dirty talk, Voyeurism

AU: College!AU

Study buddy

Four standard assumptions of perfectly competitive models – One. Economies of scale are… small relative… to the size of the… market. Two. Output… is homogenous. Three. Information… is… soft- and… fluffy. Four. I want to marry you… sweet, cuddly turtle-bunny-cushion. Something hits the elbow you’re leaning your head upon and you shoot up, slightly panicking. Shit. You had fallen asleep. It was only for a minute; you defend yourself in your mind. Nobody saw you, right?

You lift your hands to rub your eyes but stop yourself in the nick of time. You have almost forgotten that you are wearing black eyeliner and mascara. Thank God you remembered just in time – It would have been a catastrophe if you didn’t.

You look around, pinching your eyes a few times instead and examining the endless array of tables that is populated with college students and their college books, notebooks, markers and pencils. During the exam periods, it’s difficult to find a spot left empty. Outside the College library, there’s typically a line of students waiting to claim a seat, even at this unholy hour of nine pm.

You whine silently, staring at the thermos flask in front of you which you emptied about an hour ago. No more coffee. How are you going to survive another three hours of studying when you’re out of fuel? You shake your head, taking a deep inhale afterwards. Ah- you remember. What was that thing?

You look beside you, finding a bottle of water that is laying on the table. Where did that- You look at the other students on your table, all looking down at their books and concentrating diligently on the matter they’re studying. The water bottle has a piece of notebook paper slid underneath the plastic label, you notice. Curious, you pick it up and remove it smoothly from underneath. There’s a note on it.

Water works better to battle fatigue than coffee does. Two litres a day keeps your body hydrated and you’ll feel less tired. Fighting!

The note ends with a self-drawn wink emoticon. Who- You peer your eyes over the students at your table, now finding a- Omo. Hot guy at two ‘o clock smiling at me. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, perfect facial structure, charming smile. You quickly look down at the note again, trying to hide yourself from his piercing stare. Is it his note?

You glance up once more to the guy sitting two seats away from you at the opposite side of the table. He’s still smiling at you. Really handsome! The stranger shakes with his own water bottle, hinting that it was him who rolled it at you. He’s kind, too. You bow to thank him but he still doesn’t let his eyes leave you.

You contemplate for a minute whether to reply to his note. Would that be weird? You wonder. You grasp all your courage together to do so anyways, ripping a piece of paper of your note pad.

Thanks, although I doubt water will save me now. Do you happen to have an instant solution?

You crumple the paper up into a ball and roll the ball towards him. Scared to face him as he opens it, you try to focus on the study material in front of you again. Price takers believe or act as if they can sell or buy as much or as little as they want without affecting the price. In effect they act as if prices are independent of their behaviour. You feel a little tick on the side of your head, followed by the sound of a piece of paper dropping on the wooden table. The stranger has folded an airplane out his note, this time.

No. Sorry :(

You sigh slightly, reaching for the bottle of water and taking a few sips. Maybe because you’re too tired and distracted, you decide to reply to the stranger once more, throwing another crumpled up paper ball at him.

Thanks anyways. For the water and for waking me up. Fighting!

Fifteen minutes pass, you’ve advanced a bit in your studying and it seems to be going well. Occasionally, you steal a few glances at the guy who woke you up. You’re not sure if you’ve seen him on campus before. He’s definitely not from your department; you would know if that was the case.

You rest your head on your palm, your elbow leaning on the table. You start reading the next page, your eyes blinking more often than usual. A firm has market power if it finds it profitable to raise price above marginal cost. The ability of a firm… to profitably raise price above marginal cost… depends on the extent… to which consumers… can substitute… to other... handsome guy… at two ‘o clock…

You’re much faster than the first time to regain your composure, spotting the second water bottle that woke you up. Aish! This is so embarrassing. There’s another note slid underneath the label.

There is one way but you might not be up for it…

This wakes you up. If not just for your interest that’s reaching a peak, it’s for the guy you were dreaming about that’s still trying to help you. Excited, you pick up your pencil, scribbling a new message on it.

Really? Tell me! PS: Be careful, you’re going to run out of water bottles at this rate.

Instead of crumpling the paper up, you now slid it back under the label of the second water bottle, giving it a gentle push to roll it back at him. When you see it hits his arm, you quickly look down at your book again.

You expect another airplane, but alternatively you see the second water bottle rolling against your college book.

Don’t worry. Stole them from my study buddy next to me. He’s got no clue. Admirable concentration that guy has! Bet he doesn’t even need them. You look great today, despite being tired. Shame of those earrings though, they don’t compliment your beautiful eyes well.

You blink at his message a few times. Especially at the last part. Has he seen me before? You look down at what you’re wearing. Casual chic sapphire dress. Not any different from what you usually wear during summer. Then you think about your earrings. You can hardly remember which ones you’re wearing.

You hear your phone buzzing on the table. You hover your eyes over the display, discovering a new text message from your best friend who’s sitting five seats away from you.

IS THE OH SEHUN SMILING AT YOU? OMG LUCKY GIRL HE’S SO HAWT!!!!

Oh Sehun? You swear you’ve never heard of him before. Or maybe it does ring a bell somewhere in the back of your mind- you’re not entirely sure. Probably your friend has mentioned him to you before, once or twice. Also, what’s with the caps...

Why, who is he?

You hit send.

!!!! OH C’MON HE’S ONE OF THE MOST POPULAR STUDENTS FROM THE MUSIC AND THEATRE ARTS DEPARTMENT. ALL THE GIRLS WANT HIM. 2ND YEAR STUDENT OH SEHUN??????!!!!!

You nod at the text message, concluding he is one year older than you since you’re still a first year student. Before you even get the chance to type a reply, you get another text from her.

GO GET HIM!!!!!!!!!!

Is it just you, or is she overreacting, you wonder. She’s crazy. You put your phone away in your backpack that is standing next to your chair on the floor, not bothering to reply. So his name is Sehun, hmmm? You tick the wooden table with your nails.

Do my earrings really not suit me? You take them out and observe them up close, dangling them between your fingers. Silver coloured earrings with blue jewels, is it that bad? Maybe the wrong type of blue? You look back at the stranger at two ‘o clock, now identifiable as Sehun. He’s folding another piece of paper. You try to guess what he’s making, but it’s not until it reaches you with a swift throw, that you discover it to be a butterfly. On its wings, you find his new message.

I was right. You’re even prettier without them. What are you studying?

You’re not slacking off; you’re just being honest with yourself. You’re too tired to study and you’re too interested in Sehun to let go of him, so before you realize, you start an entire message exchange with him using crumpled paper balls, each time receiving a response with a new figure he folds; flowers, animals. Hottie seems skilled in origami.

Stealing water bottles from the guy next to you? Bad boy! Economics. You?

I’m elaborately studying how not to enjoy myself. Thank god you’re here. Economics? You must be a very smart girl. Your passion?

No way! I study economics because well… I’m good at it and that’s where the money is, my dad tells me.

So you’re not studying what you love? What would you study, should money not be a burden in your life later on? PS: What’s your name?

Dancing! I’d go to a dance school. PS: It’s (y/n). Yours is Sehun, right?

That’s interesting, (y/n). Cute name btw. Yes, I’m Sehun. Which dancing style? Also, pass me your eraser, I can’t find mine.

Street dance and contemporary dance. Sorry, I know it looks childish… But it’s a really great eraser!

How am I supposed to use this? It’s a Panda! It’s too cute to use! I need my own Panda eraser. It’s amazing.

What are you, a girl? Just use it! Start with its feet then. :D

I can’t believe you used his entire butt… If I’m a girl, are you a boy?

His butt is still white, ok? :’) Just shaped a little flat… Also, I’m definitely not a boy. If anything I am at least a man.

It’s not up to you to decide whether you’re a man or a boy, that’s up to the woman… ME!

Oh that’s rude!

Why, want to be the woman again, (y/n)? J

Yes! You be the boy-

Hey, hey, hey. Don’t label me yet. As a woman, you owe it to me to give me the opportunity to prove myself otherwise~

Now how would you do that, Mr. Oh?

That message has been left without reply by Sehun since ten minutes. Did I go overboard by challenging him… or is it because I used his family name? Maybe he doesn’t like me. You rub your temples with your index fingers, staring upwards to the delicate latticed skylight made out of heavy glass.

The college library is impressive. It has been designed as an atrium, with a large open space in the middle where tables occupy the whole of the centre. Surrounding the study room are columns of book stacks, levelling up four tiers that are closed in via balconies which rise to the skylight.

What are you so disappointed about, (y/n). You don’t even like this guy for real. You just think he’s physically attractive, you admit to yourself. That’s all. You roll your eyes, grunting silently. Another two hours before you allow yourself to give up on studying for the day.

You glance back at Sehun, peeping at what he’s doing. He’s texting. Probably found someone more interesting to talk to. You let your head fall onto your notebook, not even realising how hard the guy in front of you has been pitying you. He raises an eyebrow at you, then nudges you.

“You better go home. You need some sleep”, he says. You jerk your head up, shaking it strongly in protest.

“No, two more hours!” You murmur and empty the first water bottle Sehun gave you. The guy in front of you hisses, but you try to ignore him. Come on. You encourage yourself. That’s when you suddenly remember- Hey, didn’t Sehun know a way to keep me awake? You stretch your arms in the air quickly before ripping off one last piece of paper from your note pad.

Whatever it is that can solve my tiredness-problem, I’m up for it. I need it. Desperately!

There goes nothing, you think as you throw the crumpled paper ball at Sehun. You follow the ball with your eyes until it lands in between him and the table. For a moment you think he has to search underneath the table to find it, but as he picks it up, you realize that it was just resting on his crotch.

The second he reads your note, Sehun smirks at it. It leaves you somewhat confused, he had been ignoring you and now he seems happy to be hearing from you. What in the world? You scratch your head.

Unlike his previous answers, this one arrived exactly like yours, in a crumpled up paper ball. Before opening it up, you steal another glance at him. His eyes are fixed on you, barely blinking and accompanied with a grin. Unlike the first time you noticed him watch you, he seems more confident, more familiar, it is hard to point out for you how different it is exactly. You open the note, finding a rather unexpected answer.

Want to take a break? I think we both deserve one. Leave behind your stuff and FOLLOW ME. Maybe you don’t know this yet, but we’re allowed to leave our seats, you know? From the moment one of the librarians notices we’re gone, we have exactly twenty minutes before they think we’ve left and take away our stuff so they can give our seats to someone else. Let’s have a chat!

You hear Sehun stand up from his seat the moment you finish reading his message. For some reason, you’re excited. He seems a lot of fun to be around. You decide not to waste too much time and get up from your chair, witnessing Sehun has already reached the staircase. You run after him, more precisely you speed-walk after him, staying at a safe distance of several meters.

Your nerves are killing you and you’re not sure why. You recall your best friend telling you how all the girls want him and you feel your heart starting to beat faster; it has been a while since you’ve been alone with a stud like him. You’re curious about him. You’ve only had contact over sheets of paper but you would have no idea what he sounds like or how much his personality differs from his origami exchanges. You would compare it to finally getting to meet a guy you’ve been talking to over the internet.  

You trace the fingers of your left hand over the rails of the balcony as you walk beside it, looking down at the study hall from the top floor and spotting your best friend who is making hand gestures from afar. You’re unable to decipher the weird hand movements she’s making, so you look forward at Sehun, who’s walking confidently with his hands stuffed in his front pockets.

Cute ass. Handsome back posture as well. It’s the first time you take the opportunity to observe thoroughly what he is wearing. Brown dress shoes, blue jeans with holes, white shirt. From the back, he certainly gives off the vibe of a man, you remember the conversation you had with him about being a boy or a man.

It seems almost random when Sehun takes a turn and disappears into one of the columns of book cases at his right. You realize you were too busy eyeing his magnificent bum for you to register which column he walked into, so you’re not all that surprised when you suddenly feel a hand grab your wrist and Sehun yanks you into one of the columns.

“Hey Panda-killer babe, it’s here”, Sehun whispers laughingly and loosens his grip on you slightly as he pulls you further into the column.

The columns aren’t very deep nor wide. Maximum two meters wide and ten meters deep, you estimate. Sehun lets go of you once he has gently dragged you to the middle and you trace your eyes over the titles on the books that are displayed.

“What section is this?” You ask, first attempting to figure it out for yourself. You’ve never been on the top floor of the library before. Books on economics are on the second tier.

“Our section”, Sehun replies. You turn around to face him, finding him leaning against the shelves at the end of the column, close to the wall. He beams his brightest smile at you and you comply, strolling to the end of the column and doing the same. It doesn’t really matter which section it is, you’re here to relax, you realize.

“Right”, you say and you go to stand against the shelves opposite to Sehun, your hands squished between the books and your butt as you lean against the shelves yourself. “I hear you’re in the music and theatre arts department?” you ask.

“Someone’s got resourceful friends”, Sehun laughs. “Tell me, what else do your sources say about me?” Usually you aren’t as straightforward, but because of the paper conversations you’ve had with him, you feel self-assured and comfortable around him to be honest with him.

“That you’re hawt and that all the girls want you”, you say fearless, cracking a smile. “That’s about it”. Despite knowing Sehun for an hour, you have faith that this answer will satisfy him. He looks like the type who knows what he’s worth. Overconfident, having a bit of an ego.

“Interesting sources you’ve got. So what about you? How do you perceive that observation from your friend, (y/n)?” You did not expect this answer, or better, this question. You stare in front of yourself, having to think twice before you realise what he’s asking exactly. Is he asking me whether I think he’s hot? Whether I want him?

Your brain freezes. Never before did you transform so fast from confident to shy by the words of a guy. Unconsciously, you bite your lower lip, tracing the lines of his salacious body and handsome features with your irises. Your heart beats faster again, this time accompanied by your body which starts to tremble nervously. Ooh fuck he’s so freaking hot, is the only sentence your mind can produce but you’re too scared to say it out loud. Even you realize that, in your mind, you’re sounding desperate for him.

“I’m guessing that means you agree”, Sehun says and pushes himself off the book case behind him. In a split second, you feel his hand cup your cheek and his lips crash onto yours. You’re a bit shocked at first, but soon you follow and close your eyes. His lips move slowly, brushing feather-light kisses on yours, allowing you to tune in on the kiss easily. So soft~ And he smells so good.

Sehun rests the fingertips of his free hand on your waist, caressing it soothingly whilst he deepens the kiss. As he tentatively traces your tongue with his, he lets go of his other hand on your cheek and gently draws a line from behind your ear, down your neck, over your soft spot to the middle of your breasts until his digit reaches the piece of sapphire blue fabric you’re wearing.

You don’t recall kisses to be that- fucking delicious. He tastes so goddamn…- You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and unbeknownst yourself, you increase the speed of the kiss, trying to conquer his tongue lustfully. You let your fingers glide through his hair, allowing the maximum of your senses to be absorbed by him fully; his fragrance, his touch, his kiss, the sound of your hungry kisses, everything. Everything is focused on him, him and you.

You hear Sehun fiddling in the bookshelves with the hand that just ran over your sweet spot. Perfectly in sync with the moment where he pulls out a book from the shelves, he pulls away from you and leans against the wall at the end of the column. You’re dumbfounded on how he brutally stopped the kiss, witnessing him opening the book somewhere in the middle, looking down at it and ignoring you, not uttering a single word.

You’re offended by his strange behaviour and want to lash out on him for playing you like this, but before you can collect the right words in your mind, you hear the sound of high heels clicking. You behold the balcony, discovering one of the female librarians pass by. Instantaneously, your anger disappears. He just has good ears. You wait until the librarian is a few columns further before you mock him about it.

“Scared to get caught?” you tease, seeing Sehun stuff the book into the shelves next to him instead of positioning it back into its original location.

“Less than you are”, he says and tugs you over to him so that he traps you in his arms, your back leaning against his chest. With his knuckles, he starts caressing your waist at both sides, repeating the up and down motion that tranquilizes you. “Aren’t you scared of what this bad- boy can do to you?” he whispers in your ear, his voice hoarse and raw. You realize he’s referring back to your own words earlier on, but coming from his mouth, you know he has assigned a different meaning to it. To magnify his statement, he nips at your earlobe once, followed by his lips that delight the back of your ear. “You asked me how I’d prove I’m a man”. You’re becoming enticingly ensnared by him, closing your eyes, hearing his every breath pass your ear.

He has successfully captivated your mind and thoughts with words and sexual advances for you to become so stimulated that you don’t answer him, so Sehun decides to work you up a little more. “For you, I can be both. A real man- and a bad, very bad boy”, he says. He initiates kisses behind your ear, puckering gentle ones on the same trail down your neck as before. Oh that feels so fucking good. His kisses are deliberately using a hint of saliva, making you quiver each time he moves on to the next spot, the cold air brushing over the wet, exposed skin making you throb.

You let your head fall back and rest on his shoulder, your breath hitching. When he arrives at your soft spot, you let out a low moan, encouraging him to gently tug on the same skin with his teeth, his tongue flicking over the flesh locked in his mouth. Ofttimes, you exhale deeply at the movements of his soft lips, wet tongue and hungry teeth mixed with his knuckles that keep fondling your waist at a steady rhythm. You feel your insides quiver, clamp, relax and then release, guiding the wetness to your folds. In harmony with your body’s reaction, you violently exhale Sehun’s name.

“Sshhhht”, Sehun whispers in your ear to remind you to be quiet and continues on. You’re both still in the library, after all; there are people down there. Temporary, he lets go of one hand on your waist to pull the zipper on the back of your dress downwards, but only slightly. He’s providing himself better access to your neck and shoulders, finding a second soft spot that makes you bite back a moan.

“We should go somewhere else”, you breathe, desiring more of him. For a second, you believe you can take the lead and turn around to kiss him intensely, but Sehun holds you in your place so you can’t move. Alternatively, he grinds his bulge against you as payback, making you lose control over your breathing. He’s extremely hard.

“Open your eyes”, Sehun orders you and you gasp for air when you do. Not only passer-by’s but also people on the other balcony, the one on the opposite side of the library, are able to see you, should one decide to search for a book there. You are experiencing a cocktail of feelings; arousal, desire, fear and anxiousness. He’s having your mind in the gutter.  

“Feel that?”, Sehun asks, his digits now back on both sides of your waist, his index and middle finger slowly lifting your dress up. “It’s called adrenaline”, he whispers and kisses the most sensitive soft spot you have in your neck. “It keeps you awake-”, he says raw and traces his fingers upwards on your thighs. “and can last for hours”, Sehun glides one of his hands over your panties to the centre above your core. “There’s nothing-”, he sinks his hand into your panties without warning and dips two of his fingers between your folds, reaching your clit. “a good fuck can’t fix”, he groans in your ear.

Involuntarily, you release an audible moan and close your eyes again. Sehun uses his free hand to guide your jaw towards him so he can kiss you lustfully, his fingers now hunting for the right rhythm, pressure and movements that will drive you insane. He guides himself by the way he feels you tremble in his chest, how sloppy your kisses become and how the vibration of your breathing increases vigorously.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet” Sehun murmurs. You crave Sehun so badly, you can’t believe you’re unable to subdue your thoughts and are acting with audacity. At this rate, you’re putting your hopes on him to keep an eye out for passer-by’s. You can’t focus on them anymore, you can only focus on Sehun. On you, in you; you need him. What has he done to you? You moan. “You’re so responsive, you’re driving me crazy” he whispers. “The filthy things you make me want to do to you”.

You let out a small cry when he slides his fingers into your core, his thumb taking over the clit work. He thrusts with them at a steady pace, but one that differs from the pace he’s holding over your clit. You arch your back, your head crushing harder into Sehun’s shoulder. You try to hold your moans to a minimum, but by now you’ve given up on trying to withhold from the heavy and unsteady breathing. It is simply impossible.

Sehun grinds his hardness against you once more and you can’t resist letting out a moan. “Sehun” You manage to alleviate it only a bit.

“Yes baby?” he whispers and he starts sucking a hickey on your neck. With his free hand, he now roams over one of your breasts, kneading eagerly. Despite the multitasking, Sehun doesn’t lose track of the rhythm he’s working on your core and clit. You’re growing closer to reach your high by the second, your breathing transitioning to low whines as the new standard. “You want to cum?”

You try to nod but your body is out of your control already, so you try to whine a silent yes in between. When Sehun catches your plea, he increases his speed and tries to deepen his finger-thrusts on you. A few thrusts in and you reach your high. You scar your lip, biting on it to withhold your moans but they partially still manage to escape through your teeth.

Sehun’s grip on you loosens and you turn around, claiming those hungry kisses you’ve been wanting to steal from him before. Maybe out of desire, maybe out of gratitude that you do so, probably both.

“Baby, your ass is perfect”, Sehun says as he lets his hands caress the rounds of your butt cheeks. He traces them down to move under your dress for the second time, this time locking two of his fingers at the sides of your panties, a finger at each side. Gently, he pushes downward until your panties find their own way to the floor of the book column.

You are getting impatient. For some reason you think Sehun’s slacking off and he needs to understand that you’ve only got twenty minutes to recharge, so you decide to use that time wisely. You start fiddling with his jeans, unhooking the button faster than even Sehun would expect you to be able to. He smirks at the eagerness and quickly helps you. If it wasn’t for him being in the library, he would get rid of his pants completely, but he has to make do with the pants hanging loose on his hips and his erection pulled out of his underwear.

Sehun can’t wait to quench your thirst for him and he lifts you by your thighs, fastening you onto his hips. He makes a one hundred and eighty degree turn, locking you in between him and the end of the column wall. He knows time is precious so he doesn’t even seek for your approval, he knows he has it, and lines himself up before thrusting into you hard. You bite on the same bruise on your lip to withhold your moans routinely.

“Fuck, you’re tight”, Sehun groans and starts to move his hips. You try to meet him with yours but that isn’t as easy as you’d expect, squished between both him and the wall. One of your arms rests over his shoulders whilst the other greedily fists his hair. You haven’t been able to take a glance at his length, but you can tell its thick by how you feel your core stretch for him.  

With every thrust, your body adapts to him, allowing him to ease in and out more pleasurably each time. You try to control your breathing, focusing solely on that and one spot below where he leisurely torments you. You’re even too enthralled by all the sensations to realize you both let out a groan at the exact same time.

“Faster”, you plead and Sehun adheres to your request instantly. He thrust deeper, harder, faster and you soon find your mouth on Sehun’s shoulder, hoping to suppress your moans that way. Your entire body feels warm and you try to cling onto Sehun harder. The feeling of fulfilment is mind-boggling.

“You’re so much better. Than I imagined”, Sehun says between thrusts. “Fucking. Good”. “You feel so. Freaking. Good”, he repeats. Your body is wounding tight, craving release. Sehun notices this by how you’re trying everything you can to keep your moans in check so that they’re not too loud, but he’s facing the same problems himself so he forgets to encourage you to keep it down. “You’re. Such. A. good. Girl”.

“Sehun”, you cry silently. It’s another plea.

“I know baby. Hold on just a little longer”, he says and now solely hits all the right spots.

“Please!” you cry once more and a thrust later, you bite on his shoulder. An explosion erupts in you and your groan is still audible despite your efforts. Your walls clench around Sehun and he rides out your high, trying his best not to cry out himself from the perfect pain and pleasure combination you’re giving him. Your body is now being relentless with him, too.

“Ooh, (y/n), fuck!”, Sehun breathes heavily, riding out his own high. He pulls out afterwards, brushing his nose against your face that is still nuzzled into his shoulder. You jerk your head up to face him, his cheeks visibly flushed like you imagine yours to be.

“You did really well”, he compliments you, still holding you up between him and the wall. There’s a certain innocence in your eyes that tempts him to kiss you slowly and passionately. He knows he has been very dominant and rough with you. You might not be in love with him, nevertheless you welcome his kiss wholeheartedly. You agree that it’s a perfect way to end your small adventure.

You pull away slowly, flashing Sehun a smile, when suddenly, you let out a loud scream as you jump off Sehun. Your scream is so loud, that there’s no doubt the three hundred people in the study hall below hear it. At the end of the column, you see a dark, short-haired guy looking at you and Sehun.

Sehun turns around and witnesses the guy run away, then starts laughing.

“What, this isn’t funny”, You panic. “He saw us!”

“Don’t worry, that’s my friend Kyungsoo. He won’t tell anybody”, he assures you and caresses your arm to calm you down.

“You!” You give his chest a lazily push, slightly annoyed that he doesn’t mind as much as you do. You grab your panties, put them on quickly and then start making your way back to your table.

“Hey”, Sehun calls you before you reach the balcony. You turn around, giving him the attention he’s asking for. “I really enjoyed it”, he says softly. You smile. You’ve never dreamed of doing something like this before. You realize that some people might’ve caught you both, but you feel that for once, it was worth it.

“So did I”, you beam back.

“If you want, I’m in search for a new study buddy”, Sehun hints at you.

“Thought you had one? He has lots of water”, you point out.

“Yeah… well… I mean a study buddy for at home?” He tries again.

“I’ll think about it”, you smile and turn on your heel. One minute left. Four tiers down. This is going to be the sprint of a lifetime.  Fighting!

#sehun scenario #sehun smut #exo smut #exo scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenario #sehun #oh sehun #exo sehun #exo scenarios #sehun fanfic #sehun fanfiction #oh sehun smut

[ezra-blue]

Getting a valentine for the first time

You know, I was going to post this on AO3, but that’s just going to have to wait until tomorrow.

First and Third

Word Count: ~2200

Rated: T, for mentions of sexytimes. Warning for fluff so thick you could choke on it.

Firstand Third

Thefirst time, Gojyo was just plain happy to be surprised. He wasn’tsure he deserved it, but he wouldn’t say no. He couldn’t think of anyreason for Hakkai to leave him a present on a blustery February day.The box of chocolates on the table had his name on the tag, so theywere obviously for him. He devoured every single one of them whileHakkai was putting the laundry out on the line. Hakkai returned tofind the empty box on the table, and smiled at Gojyo over the emptybasket.

“Didyou enjoy your present?”

Gojyo returned asheepish, languid grin. “They were real good. Sorry I didn’tshare.”

“Oh,no, those were all for you.” Then, he’d crossed left the clothesin the basket sitting on the table and crossed the room to kiss himon the forehead. “But perhaps you can give me a taste?”Hakkai leaned down and kissed him square on the lips, and Gojyo losthimself in the kiss. Gojyo had no idea why Hakkai was being so niceto him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask questions whensomething in the quirk of his smile made promises Gojyo intended tokeep.

Afew weeks later, Gojyo noticed Hakkai watching him throughout theday, as if waiting for something. When he left that night to hit thecard tables, Hakkai looked immensely disappointed. Not sad, notlonely, just disappointed. Gojyo tried not to think too hard aboutwhy, since he couldn’t remember doing anything wrong, but made sureto win a big pot to bring home to him in case that was the problem.From the way Hakkai sulked about for the next few days, lips drawninto a thin and tight smile like the drawn strings of a purse, andfrom how he was equally as generous with his love and affection asthe same tightly-drawn purse might be generous with its contents,money wasn’t the problem, but Gojyo had no idea what was.

Hakkaigot over it, whatever it was.

Thesecond time, the next year, it was a bottle of plum wine and awell-made dinner to surprise him on another cold February day. Gojyohad no idea what he had done to deserve it, but he wouldn’t let thissort of treat be lost on him. Steak – Hakkai must have worked someextra compensation out of Sanzo – and sauteed shisho, all served inbeautiful rich brown sauce over rice noodles, and Hakkai let him haveseconds and as much wine as he wanted, smiling dotingly from hisplace, and Gojyo forgot he was in his own ramshackle little kitchenand lost himself in Hakkai’s adoration. Drunk and full and happy, helet Hakkai take him on the floor, singing his praises as his loverrode him to paradise.

Then,a few weeks later, again. The expectation, the disappointment. Hakkaiactually didn’t talk to him for a few days. Gojyo was on the verge offreezing to death on a cold shoulder when Hakkai finally broke theice with a gentle, “alright, then,” and tried to pick up asif nothing had happened. Which suited Gojyo fine, because as far ashe could tell, nothing had!

He’dapologize if he knew what he’d done wrong, but even though he was newto this “fucking one person on the regular” shit (hadpractically signed his soul off to him the night he shoved his gutsback in and took a mortgage on the loan the night Hakkai had savedhis life), he thought he was doing the right things! He only flirtedat bars, he shared, they talked about shit now, they were two sidesof a coin. He would do anything for Hakkai, he was still sometimesembarrassed at just how hard his heart beat when he thought abouthim. That’s what love was, if he was ever worthy of it.

Loveor no, Gojyo wasn’t sure where this hot and cold behavior was comingfrom, but Hakkai was weird. It was something he’d come to accept.Maybe Hakkai would just be weird sometimes. He thought he couldhandle that, even if it did bother him.

Thenext year, when February arrived again, they were somewhere on thepath along that road trip from hell, stopped over in a little market.Gojyo was “helping” (read: acting as pack mule and chain-smoking)as Hakkai traversed the stores, but as they filled out the list, henoticed Hakkai looking around for something. Gojyo noticed, andhopped a step closer. “What’s left to get? I’m pretty sure we goteverything Cherry-chan asked for.”

“Ah,nothing on the shopping list!” Hakkai glanced over his shoulder,smiling wryly. “I wanted to get you a little treat. For the two ofus, to celebrate.” His smile dipped, nearly imperceptibly. “Youknow.”

Gojyodidn’t. He frantically searched through his head to remember what wasspecial about February, what they were celebrating, but not a damnthing came to mind. He recalled Hakkai surprising him with chocolatetheir first February together and a really nice meal the second, buta celebration? He didn’t have the first clue! He clammed up tight,mumbling out, “Whatever you think is best, y'know. I ain’t picky.”

Hakkaichuckled and turned back around, only to pause at the next window.“Ah.” He stilled, and Gojyo stopped at his side, taking advantageof a moment to light a cigarette. Hakkai was admiring somechunky-looking woven blankets in the store window. “If only we hadroom in the budget Sanzo gave us for some of those. Camping out canget cold, especially at this time of year.”

“Pfft,budget.” Gojyo rolled his eyes at the thought. “Give thattightwad a few months, see if he doesn’t loosen up on that shit.”

Hakkailaughed again, soft and meaningless, but walked on. “Perhaps.”Gojyo studied the blankets a minute longer: the weave that lookedlike a comfy sweater, thick, cuddly-looking olive green yarn. Hakkaihad been complaining (in his subtle way) about the cold, maybesomething like this would be nice. Besides, Hakkai was celebratinghim for no good reason, maybe he should celebrate right back.

Hakkaicouldn’t do much in such harried conditions, but he somehow scrapedtogether a tiny chocolate cake and hid it from Goku long enough forhe and Gojyo to share it in the privacy of the kitchen alcove beforesharing a few sweet kisses (and no more, sadly, because Sanzo wouldhear them and give them grief), but when Hakkai retired to sleep,Gojyo slipped out, found a card house, and made to multiply thepaltry change left in his pocket.

Whateverfancy blankets cost, it was way more than ten yuan and a ramen shopcoupon. Hakkai was worth whatever this was going to take.

Overthe next weeks, Gojyo surreptitiously gambled his funds up, butbetween the days without civilization and the occasional hit of badluck, it actually took him a month all told before the money in hispocket had enough heft that he felt confident approaching a vendorselling very similar blankets in a town unfathomably far from thetown where Hakkai had first pointed them out. The one hefound wasn’t the same blanket, but it was similar, and luckyhim, there was one left. When Gojyo picked it up off of the table, itwas as fluffy as a cloud looked, and quickly warmed in his hands.Perfect. White might not clean as easily, but he was sure if anyonecould keep a white blanket clean in the wilderness, it was Hakkai.

Hakkaiwas settled in their inn when Gojyo arrived back, warming his feet bythe fire in the communal lobby and looking pensive. Gojyo realized itwas that same funk he sank into the last two Marches. No way, nottoday. He crept up behind him, walking as softly as possible, butHakkai still spun around right as Gojyo moved to drop the blanket onhis shoulders. He only succeeded in dropping it directly on Hakkai’sface. Hakkai made a soft, surprised noise and fumbled the blanketaway from his mouth.

“Gojyo- what’s -”

Gojyorecovered and fixed the blanket to wrap it around Hakkai’s arms likea shawl. “Surprise! I saw you lookin’ at blankets, and youalways get so cold when we camp out, so thought I’d pick it up forya!” He expected ‘thanks’ and an eager smile, the way he didwhen he noticed Gojyo pick up his socks or put his empties in therecycling bin at home. Instead, Hakkai looked a little devastated,and Gojyo was crestfallen. “I, uh, thought you’d be happy.”

“I…I am, I’m just… surprised.” Hakkai lifted the blanket in hishands. “You remembered White Day.”

“WhiteDay?” Gojyo thought he’d heard of that, but wasn’t sure what itmeant. No point in pretending. “Uh, sure. If I knew what thatwas.”

“Youdon’t know?” Hakkai lifted his face, his unreadable expressionshifting into surprise. “It’s paired with Valentine’s Day. Twosides of a romantic holiday.”

Valentine’sDay? Gojyo cocked his head, and Hakkai raised a hand to his mouth.“You didn’t know? My goodness, you didn’t know.” He shookhis head slowly, caught between a smile and shock. “Oh, Gojyo,I’m so sorry…”

“Forwhat?!” Gojyo crossed his arms. “I have no idea what you’retalking about!”

Hakkaiwas fighting back mirthful laughter, but composed himself enough tosay, “On St. Valentine’s Day – February 14th – women presentmen with chocolate. In the West, it’s a day for partners to show howmuch they care for each other. When I was a child, all the girls inthe orphanage were forced to give candy to the boys, even to me.”

Gojyohad never heard of this, or if he had, it was lost under years alone.He knew for sure nobody before Hakkai had ever just given himchocolate, let alone on February 14th. “And what the hell isWhite Day?”

“March14th. Men have to return presents to any woman who gave himchocolate, usually something white, like white chocolate for thebasics, or lingerie for a woman with whom they’re intimate. It’smeant to show how much he values her.” Hakkai bit back a laugh,rubbing his forehead as his cheeks turned pink, but he sobered as hewent on: “I wanted to celebrate these days with you like I hadbefore. I wanted to make you feel loved and special, but when you gotme nothing in return, I… I thought you’d forgotten.” His chindropped, touching the blanket where it was cast around his neck. “Orthat I wasn’t worth it.”

Horrorlashed through Gojyo. “Hell no! Shit, of course you’re worthit!” He circled around the chair and got down in front ofHakkai, grabbing his hands as he twisted back around to follow. “Ididn’t know, okay? I would'a gotten you stuff if I’d known!" 

"It’salright!” Hakkai cupped Gojyo’s cheek in his hand. “Isimply feel dreadful for punishing you before, for not knowing!”He ran his thumb over Gojyo’s scars and jawline. “I should haveknown.”

Gojyowinced and shook his head, then pulled his hands from Hakkai’s andtwisted them up into a pleading knot. “What do I do to make thisup to you?”

Hakkaiconsidered for a moment, then shook his head. “You don’t haveto.” He leaned forward and slid his fingers up into Gojyo’shair. “Why don’t we count this as the first one?”

Gojyofelt his heart lift a little, and grinned. “Fresh start?”

“Everyonedeserves one. After all, you gave me mine, and much more than I everasked for.” Hakkai leaned forward to kiss Gojyo on the cheek,then smiled his contentment and gazed into Gojyo’s eyes. “Andyou’ve gotten to a very good one.” He traced the edge of theblanket. “This is surely worth much more than three times morethan what I gave you before.”

“Threetimes, eh? Is that the standard?” Gojyo smirked to himself, asHakkai nodded.

“Aman should give a woman something three times the value of what shegave him, so it’s said. It’s not how it was done in the orphanage,but–”

“Yeah,three ain’t enough.” Gojyo stood up, smirking down at Hakkai.“You’re worth way, way, way more than that to me.” Withoutwarning, he scooped Hakkai up into his arms, letting the blanket fallaround him like a bridal veil as Hakkai, flustered, seized Gojyoaround the neck. “Maybe eight times. Maybe eight-hundred.”

Hakkaisounded somewhere between embarrassed and chiding, the scold allwrapped up in a whisper of his name, but Gojyo shook his head.

“That’swhat you said this is for, right? How much I love and value you? Iwouldn’t be here without you. So, how about a demonstration?”

Hakkailaughed, and settled into Gojyo’s arms. “Anything you like.”

Forthe first time, Gojyo realized what it was to have someone offer outhis very heart to him. From here on, though, he would always makesure to accept it with careful hands and return the gift bigger andbetter. That’s what love was.

#fanfiction #my writing #585